Sweet DreamsI want to see loveI want to feel it's touch me softly across face at firstI want to smell love ,the way you smell the gulf before you see itI want to treat it on my dry lips and have it hug my soulI speak of things I know cause I once felt that kind of love A warm day many years ago ,time really don't matter it is just my floating pass, things I can't touch or remember well or just the parts, that make my old world part of my new oneBut love I remember how it left the teat in my lips like salt ,not like one you get from table salt but you get when you eat something that was made with sugar and salt, fist the sweet treat and the the salt that brings you back slowlyI love being in the world where air is lighter and it is hard to keep your feet on the ground , your love songs touch you deeper and food treat better,all of this is because you feel loveYes I do love to feel that nothing can go wrong and maybe she/he feels the same , that they will see brighter colors and the would will seem cleaner , and maybe just maybe the world wants to show it all to you and can act like you're seeing it for the first time.And sometime dreams are all we have, dream it will get better,dream that someone will understand you,dream that people will stop thinking you're a fool, dreams are the one thing we can count on, they will always be there.To us when no one will not, to hug us when we need a hug and to love us no matter what.Clayborne Arno HarrisApr 11, 2019

7/30/2024 7:35:16 PM Well, well, well... A very deep and sometimes disturbing subject indeed!   I've had the need to take some time off.  I've been duped and while it is hard to admit that a woman of My age and intellect has been bamboozeled, I'm comforted knowing that this type of thing happens to many of us, most especially when we are vulnerable due to life circumstances or state of mind and that I shall be wiser for the game played.     While undertaking the supreme challenge of finding a right sub for Myself, I happened upon the GREATEST ONLINE MINDFUCKER that ever was and I discovered he has been playing around here and Fet for over 20 plus years and at least 39 profiles on CollarSpace to date!!!   VICTORY!  I finally was able to find them out though I must say I was led on a not-so-merry chase full of intrigue and suspense, aliens, judges, the government, medical organizations and secret societies! LOL  It takes all sorts.   After all, I have to laugh at Myself and how vulnerable My state of mind must be to have gone down that rabbit hole. I would not change the knowledge gained through the experience though I am seriously butt sore.   NEEDLESS TO SAY, ANY DOMINANT SLAVE OR SUB MAN READING THIS WILL PROVE YOURSELF OR PASS ME BY.   I have a phone, pictures, telegraph, google chat, skype and every other possible means of communication and verification including but not limited to a car! We chat, we verify, we meet or part.  

The Brightest Mark of Ruin   She had warned him. Not with raised voice or trembling lip. The way a storm warns you: a change in pressure, a stillness that precedes something absolute. She had looked at him with those eyes that always saw further into him than was comfortable and said, quietly, with the patience of someone who has never needed to repeat Herself: "Your body is mine. Your word is mine. Everything you signed your name to belongs to me now. Cross me unforgivably and I will not punish you. I won't need to. You will lose everything we have built, and it will be like poison in your veins." He had meant it the way weak men mean everything: completely, warmly, right up until the moment it cost him something. There was a contract. A real document, negotiated with Her characteristic precision, each clause a brick in something She was genuinely building. He had signed it with both hands steady and the particular glow of a man who has just been given more than he deserves. The ink was barely dry before he started deciding which parts applied to him. The protocols She had built as architecture, the daily rituals that kept him tethered and honest, he let them erode with the indifference of someone who has confused being trusted with being unsupervised. Then he put his hands on someone else. Not a stumble. A decision, made repeatedly, to take what belonged to their bond and spend it somewhere cheaper. He came home from it and looked Her in the eye and said nothing, and that silence was its own act of violence. When She found out, She came to him without hysteria, without tears, with complete and devastating composure. She asked him once for the truth. What he did next cannot be softened. He became physical, used his body the way cowards do, and drove Her from the home and safety that had been Hers. She left not because She was weak but because She has never once in Her life tolerated the intolerable. She did not come back. She didn't need to. The community moved the way water moves around a stone. No tribunal, no dramatic exile. People simply became unavailable. Conversations ended when he entered them. The doors didn't slam. They simply stopped opening. And She had not campaigned, had not made calls, because women of genuine authority do not need to destroy you manually. They tell the truth once, to the people who matter, and the truth does the rest. He still tries. He appears at the edges of gatherings with the careful posture of someone who has rehearsed his normalcy, performing the shape of a man who has grown and arrived humbly at the gates of a second chance. Every experienced Domme in the room clocks it within minutes. The hollowness. The grasping. The unmistakable vibration of a man whose submission is a strategy rather than a truth. They decline, one after another, sometimes without a word, sometimes with a look that says they know exactly what they are looking at. This is Her work, and She isn't even trying. The contract still exists. She has it. Every line he failed, every clause he desecrated, every promise subsequently dismantled brick by brick. It is not a document anymore. It is an accounting, and it will follow him into every room he tries to enter, every connection he tries to build, every carefully managed first impression, until he has repaid what he owes in full. Everything must be returned to Her as was originally decreed for the poison to ebb. To the world he dirtied by what he did to Her, to the fidelity he shattered, the safety he violated, the home he poisoned : These things do not expire. They accrue interest. She is woven into the world he still wants access to. Her judgment lives in it. He cannot go anywhere She has not already been, cannot reach anyone She does not already know. She is not a chapter; She is the book, and he is a footnote in a hand everyone can see was shaking. She is not thinking of him. That is precisely the point. He is living inside the shape of Her absence, and it fits him like the life sentence it is.

Public Service Announcement For those who have a tendency to delete their own profiles multiple times in a few weeks just because they're getting contacts from people of a less desirable gender, age, role, or location there is the option to set Mail Controls so that messages from people of:   certain genders- either any, or who identify as certain kinky orientations outside of specified age ranges outside of your country of residence part of a couple's profile a situation where they have no profile available at the time of contact ... go into the Bulk folder, and thus you don't get a notification that they've contacted you. Depending on how hard-core you are about your filters, you can delete every message that appears in there unread.You can either follow the link I included above, or you can find the Mail Controls button at the top, right-hand corner after clicking on "Read Mail."Now, if you tend to dig into your Bulk Mail no matter what, um, good luck with that.

My best friend has self terminated on Jan 26.I have always been one to put my best face forward, but I am not sure how I am going to be able to do that in the days to come. I had no warning, and I cannot understand why he has not reached out to me. To talk to me. I feel that if he had reached out to me I'd have talked him back from the ledge. I was supposed to buy him a beer when I saw him next, and him to buy me one in return. We were supposed to talk about the old days. Is this what growing old is?  To take all thsoe who you love, and those who love you in return? If so, I do not want to grow any older. I am done. I'd rather sleep a thousand years and hope that the passage of time deadens the pain in my heart. I am in my 40's and should not feel this pain. I should not be feeling this pain. I feel it is too soon. Family.... I get it.... but my brothers in arms.... It's too soon. 

As usual , My inbox overflows.  There are many reasons why I may not reply to a message.  My time is limited. If I allowed it, responding to messages could be a full time job.  There have been plenty of times I have accidentally or internationally opened a message  and found I wanted to reply. However,  I  didn't have time at that moment.  Later to find the message was too far lost amongst the rest. Recently I strolled through the pages of messages and came across a very well written message  from a submissive  who seemed to have potential.   If you send Me a message which is not acceptable . One which does not show respect it will surely not get a kind reply if it gets a reply at all. If I was communicating with you and you did not comply with My demands you can assume I stopped communication.  If I was communicating with you and some time has lapsed there is a good chance your messages are lost in the masses.   If you want My attention write an amazing message to Me. Include a respectable,  recent, clear photo of yourself. Expect to share your email address and phone number if I ask for it. I will not text you.  I will not be sharing My phone number with you,  unless I decide to.    I  will only ask for your phone number if I wish to interview you further via phone. I use no apps, except whatsapp for international.    I am not here to serve you! I expect you come to Me to serve Me.

Why are there so many scammers on here? Listing their weight at 57 pounds among other obvious falsehoods is a dead giveaway. Why do many state they are willing to relocate but in their profile they put local only? Why can't someone after receiving a very heartfelt reply to their profile simply send a not interested reply back? Not interested,WOW that took 10 seconds. Why do i keep trying? Because finding someone will not save me. i am alone but not lonely and am very greatful for the life i have and if its not meant to be so be it but i have a glass is half full mindset and if it is meant to be it will the the icing on my cake of life. Just saying!

Superior Integrity Honest Protective Dominant Sadistic Arrogant Corrective Controlling Intense Sarcastic Creative Raunchy Deviant   Step up correct or do not step up at all.

On Being Tended To There is a particular kind of vulnerability in being sick that I have never made peace with easily. I am not a woman who softens gracefully under inconvenience. I do not do helpless well. A migraine, specifically, is an affront, the kind of physical mutiny that my body stages without my permission and that I resent with the focused irritation of someone who had other plans for the day and does not appreciate the interruption. What I have made peace with is this: being cared for well, by someone trained to my specific requirements, is its own kind of power. It is not weakness to lie in a darkened room and receive exactly what you need. It is, in fact, the point. I wake with it already behind my left eye, that specific pressure that announces itself before I am fully conscious, before I have had a chance to negotiate or refuse. The light from the curtain gap is already too much. I do not have to say anything. You are already moving. This is what attention produces, real attention, the kind that is trained and deliberate and treats learning me as the serious undertaking it is: you read the quality of my stillness the way a sailor reads weather. You know before I speak. The curtains are drawn the rest of the way before I ask. The room drops into the particular darkness that a migraine demands, not full black but the soft gray of a room that has been told to be quiet. You move through it without turning on lights. I notice this. It matters. The water arrives cold, with the specific glass I prefer, on the nightstand without a sound. My medication beside it, already sorted, already the right ones in the right order without my having to inventory my own suffering aloud. You have learned my protocols the way you learn everything about me: carefully, completely, understanding that the details are not optional and that getting them right is the baseline expectation rather than a performance deserving praise. You adjust the pillow without being asked. I note this too. The house goes silent. Not the silence of absence but the managed silence of someone who has taken on the task of keeping the world at a specific volume so that I do not have to. Inside there is nothing: no television, no movement that is not careful, no presence that asks anything of me. You understand, or you will understand, that tending to me when I am unwell is not about hovering. It is about calibrated invisibility. Being precisely available and precisely absent in exactly the right proportions, which requires more intelligence than most people give it credit for. I am not interested in someone who needs to be seen caring for me. I am interested in someone who simply does it, correctly, without making their effort my problem. You bring a cool cloth without being asked and place it over my eyes with hands that are exactly the right temperature and exactly the right pressure. Not tentative. Tentative is more irritating than bold when I am in pain. You do the thing or you do not. You do not do it halfway and then hover at the edge of the bed waiting to be told you got it right. You already know whether you got it right. If you do not know, you are not ready for this. I sleep for a while. When I surface you are in the chair, not at the bedside, not making your presence into a demand I have to respond to. Simply there, available the way a room is available: quietly, without agenda. The water has been refreshed at some point without my noticing. This pleases me more than you will ever hear me say. By afternoon the worst has passed into the dull aftermath, that wrung-out flatness that follows a bad migraine like a gray tide going out. You bring food without asking whether I want it, because you know that I will refuse food when I should eat and that part of your function is to override my worse instincts with gentle, firm consistency. It is exactly what you know I can manage: nothing that requires effort, nothing with a smell that will undo the fragile progress of the afternoon, presented without ceremony or the implicit pressure of someone waiting to be thanked. I eat. I do not thank you. You do not require it. Later, in the thin early evening light, you sit at the foot of the bed and work your hands over my feet with the focused attention you bring to anything you do for my body, slow and deliberate, the kind of pressure that does not ask anything back. I lie with one arm over my eyes and the understanding that I want from you in these moments is not sympathy and it is not performance. It is competence. It is presence without weight. It is the specific quality of someone who considers this a privilege rather than an inconvenience, who moves through my discomfort with the steadiness of someone who has made my comfort their entire purpose for the day and requires nothing in return. You do not ask how I am feeling every twenty minutes. You do not make small sounds of concern that require me to reassure you. You do not treat my pain as an opportunity to demonstrate how caring you are. You simply handle it, quietly and correctly, and you let me be unwell without making my illness into a performance we are both starring in. This is what I require. Not grand gestures. Not visible sacrifice. The quiet, intelligent, sustained attention of someone who has studied me carefully enough to know what I need before I need to say it, and who finds their satisfaction not in being acknowledged but in the simple fact of having gotten it right. If you can do this, on the days when I am at my least, when there is nothing glamorous or cinematic about what is being asked of you, when the task is simply to be useful and invisible and exactly correct, then you understand something essential about what this life actually is beneath the surface of it. It is not always the collar and the candlelight. Sometimes it is the cool cloth, the right glass, the chair in the corner, the silence held like something precious.   Get that right, and you will have understood something that most never do.

Fantasy wish fulfillment for discerning kinky ladies.Introducing some of my BDSM/LARP roleplay characters! These are from the gripping, sexy, horny, fetish narratives I spin, (e.g., whisper in your ear) that you may actually find arousing and be more than willing to feature in!   Sir Max Master "Master of the Darkly Amusing, Holistic Therapy Centre for errant, idle or bored Gothic (and other deserving, kinky, sub, deviant, vampire or otherwise naughty..) girls & young ladies"... (You will be straightened out!) DdYbadcock ...self explanatory really! You will know if you want him! UncleFcker ...similar to the one above but you are the naughty, compliant or somewhat dim, fuckable niece, this time! Yes Sir! No Sir! ...a discipline officer who could be in a military or 'bad-girls' prison scenario! Pretty much anything could happen!  Colonel Kunst This is a .mil detention and interrogation scene, you will be given a 'secret' to keep, then abused, interrogated, searched, tortured and generally given a rotten time etc. You have to hold out and not give the secret away for at least 24 hours. No safe word, but if you spill the beans you lose and its all over for you! Prof Humbert the Art Tutor This is a character I developed for art students, you will have to keep working into it!... Dark Lord ..your guru, spiritual guide and mentor for, 'nude mindfulness meditation,' sessions! This will help you develop compassion, help stress reduction, promote inner calmness, even possibly be jizzed on! ..the science behind it is irrefutably convincing!  Pervy School Teacher Max Max will take you for your reading out loud, religious and other remedial classes! Discipline could be of the traditional kind but more up to date versions are available! You will have to ask permission to go to the loo and may have to get changed for p.t. or swimming in front of him! Endless fun possibilities in this one! Mr Cokewold This will be good fun for the wife or female partner! The cuck of the house will be suitably handcuffed to a radiator or at the foot of the bed or wherever. I daresay that he will probably have fun being subjected to this terrible ordeal of watching... need I say more... (For pedants, cokewold is the original olde englishe term for, you guessed it!...) Mr Bit_on_the_side Self explanatory for the neglected Mrs or female partner currently suffering from an unfulfilling partnership who misses that occasional fling that can involve i.e., CP or more involved fetishy activities including those of a horizontal nature!   A Pirate Ship's Captain Captain Hardcock runs his pirate ship with a grip of iron, ..much like he likes around his ever hard dick! You are Miss Prostitute the willing Captain's Cabin slave-boy/girl (it can be an androgynous role) and you are there to see to all of his needs! You will need to make sure that the Captain has his heavy cock and balls milked and sucked when he wakes and at regular intervals through the day. you will need lube for all the bumming that may cum with this one! Master (..that's Massa to you!..) Stonewall 'everhardon' Jackson As Master of the local sugar plantation for the global Del Monte corporation and thanks to the Helms Amendment to the Fugitive Slave Act (and a recent Supreme Court decision under President Trump himself!) you, a runaway ethnic, colored slave, have been delivered to me for remedial education and correction.... (...this one is specially for special colored ladies of a submissive, african american, other coloured, ethnic, raceplay and slave liking orientation!)  Mr Arm-Candy More of a service than a fetish; this one is for ladies who need a gentleman to escort them to anything from conventional functions & nights out, to the more louche and depraved milieu of fetish clubs and parties! Animal Magic* This is a fun one I did with an animal loving gothic ex once and I have since found out its a common roleplay fantasy with women and girls! Basically you like four legged friends and have a fantasy that you would like your lover to pretend to be a k9, alsation, big dog, aardvark, pony whatever and you want to pet and entice him into mounting and fucking you in a doggy or other animal way! Woof Woof! That's fine with me!  Reverse Animal magic* ...yes I do petplay as well and you can be my pet, puppy, kitten, aardvark, pony etc ..we will have such fun! (*Special animal penis dildoes optional in these!)   Some otherswill just pop up subject to our chemistry! ...that could be intriguing! Interested? Just write to your preferred character above, today!  MadderMax is endorsed by BDSM Test Result!  == Results from bdsmtest.org id=2351389==  98% Voyeur 97% Daddy/Mommy 97% Degrader 95% Rigger 94% Experimentalist 92% Ageplayer 91% Owner 90% Dominant 89% Brat tamer 88% Primal (Hunter) 88% Exhibitionist 87% Master/Mistress 86% Sadist 76% Non-monogamist 18% Vanilla 17% Girl/Boy 15% Switch 6% Primal (Prey) 6% Brat 6% Masochist 4% Pet 3% Degradee 3% Rope bunny 2% Submissive 0% Slave    ..thats all for now!   

I am building a House, an organization for many slaves, many. I offer a concept that is foreign to most, because most seek that one-on-one dynamic. As a result, not all but many flounder for years looking for the 'one'.What is offered is a home to those that cannot find the 'one' or no longer feel life must only be about the the 'one'. With this opportunity comes the offer of being able to call one 'Master', to fill that need, as they enjoy the larger chance to be part of something more than being alone within itself.Can I be a great Master to one? Definitely. It is very pleasing.But, I wish to be more, and more than just to one.I am trying to offer more to more, a home to many.Some would rather remain alone. I respect that.This is not for them. I offer something in lieu of nothing.More than that. I offer something for their 'one' and themselves, if they are so inclined.More than that, I offer community to the M/s community.A chance to be more, much more than just being alone or a couple.A opportunity to grow more than just themselves, to grow their world around them as they grow.To do that one must consider broadening, not limiting ones' possibilities.Master would love to see all grow with Master and the others in the House, as all enjoy the process of growth, of being more of what one seeks. To self-actualize both the light and darkness within.

Maintenance.... If yall do not have an updated profile how do you expect Me to trust you?  Your age, location, etc would do well to be updated prior to contacting Me.  Collar updates regularly enough and if not an update within your profile you can certainly update your JOURNAL to proper information. If we set a time for speaking, meeting, doing and you don't show up and no reason given...what is the point?  For those of you who have My personal information, chivalry is not dead.  If you are not smart enough to figure out how to apologize, what is the point?  With that said, I am not in the habit of opening closed doors.  What is the point? Remember, VERIFICATION.  You don't get close to Me and My home without exposing yourself to Me.  BIGGER and Better! I would love a mechanic type of person from time to time.  I'm a vehicle enthusiast and have some knowledge but not nearly anything to brag about. I would love to rebuild an engine side by side as project.  Last year I sold My beautiful vintage truck.  Sigh. I DO so love MUSCLE cars though just about anything that comes acrosss on Mecum will do.  To have ones breath taken away by the pull of a powerful engine is mightily exciting.  The first car I ever drove was when I was knee high and it was a lovely Mercades.  Then onto the Jaguar...  My first car was a custom 500 with a suicide knob...and boy could that baby go! That was the car of My first speeding ticket!  I was crusing down Interstate 93 doing 120, when I moved My hand away from the side rear view mirror and to My chargrin there was a state trooper, hot on My tail, lights flashing (no siren) just keeping pace with Me.  I won't forget that troopers face for the rest of My life.  He didnt make eye contact and just said, "I have a ticket for you and you will need to pay it by this time or show up in court.  If you show up in court, I will tell the judge that you were doing WELL OVER 80 MILES PER HOUR and you will have your license taken away."  I paid the ticket and got a radar dectector.  lol Still, I have a relative hot spot for all things mechanical.  This brings Me to My love of steel...but THAT is another topic for another day!      

I have been in severe physical pain from a recent surgery. I chose to let myself feel it seep through my body so I could concentrate on it. Meditate on it. Use it to help me find clarity and wisdom. Every time I felt like I could not find a comfortable position to lay, or awakened with fresh discomfort, I tried to memorize it since it is my only chance to catch a glimpse of what a sub does. After all, I am not interested in allowing anyone control or opportunity to inflict pain in any scene. I do not like pain but when the choice is between emotional, mental or physical, I believe it is somehow useful to let the physical carry you over the threshold. I wanted to be able to relate to what a submissive man seeks when he is reaching for that space between physical endurance and challenging his mind to accept his position despite all of society impying that he should never give in to his submissive needs.   I also wanted to use this opportunity to accept the decisions I am making that are emotionally difficult. The real truth about me as a Domminant woman is I desire true submission on MY terms, not his.    

what a typical day would be like as My slave.   I work from home during the week in a typical 8 am to 5 pm online system. you would wake slightly before Me and rise from your sleeping that should be a pallet or cot next to My bed. you will then prepare My coffee and have it ready for when I wake. you will Serve it to Me on one knee. there is more to the Ritual than that but I am keeping to basics for now.   Once I have taken the coffee, you kiss each of My feet and then My cock, affirming to Me that you are My slave. When I get up, you will ask if I need to piss and how I wish to do so. That can be in your mouth to swallow or on you to wear for a brief time or longer as I wish.   I will start My work and you will fix My breakfast and your own. Again you will Serve Me and wait for Me to give you permission to eat yours.   Then will come inspection of slave to see if there is anything that needs to be addressed such as shaving and such. slave will then shower and clean himself accordingly and report back for Tasks of the Day.   Most days will have Tasks already assigned, such as Monday, the bedding is changed and washed. Every day has the Task of properly dressing the bed and dusting various shelves and stuff.   All Tasks should be finished by lunch time. slave reports back to Me to have Tasks evaluated. Failures to meet standards will warrant punishments later that day.   Lunch time has the slave preparing and serving lunch. Usually something simple and easy. Follows the same Ritual as breakfast.   After lunch, slave will have an hour to do his own personal hobbies and such. After that, the slave will do his workout program to increase his fitness.    After that, slave preps dinner. Not all dinners will be cooked by the slave as I do like to do some cooking. Dinner Ritual is the same as other meals. slave will likely sit on the floor near Me while eating.    The evening is when I relax with My hobbies and fun. slave will be near and quiet possibly with a few minor Tasks.   At the end of the day, any punishments that the slave has earned are reviewed and applied.   Bed time.    A note is that the slave is always available to Me should I want to piss on or in him, as well as to suck My cock, kiss My feet, lick My pits and ass, and of course being ass up for when I want to fuck.

Personal growth is the evolution of the mind to catch up with our soul. It comes in stages. For some it takes a while for others it's their daily obligation to themselves. One must sit back each evening after the sun has set and before the stars have risen. Take advantage of this purgatory moment in the heavens to lose oneself inside their being. Drift through the thoughts of the day gone by and squarely face it for all it was as we search for the answers of what it could be. Inspect ourselves for the quality we expect and demand of ourselves. Find errors in our ways and vow to be more mindful of tomorrow. For tomorrow is only a day away.  And hence the process proceeds as the journey continues.  Never ending, never arriving at our destination but always traveling.  Being mindful of the journey and appreciating the ability we have to be able to travel. Sometimes alone, sometimes in the company of others. At times even in the company of others but alone and lost within ourselves. Yet always traveling. The road blocks we encounter may sometimes lead us astray but never stopping us unless we allow them.  It is not only our obligation to meet them head on but to also overcome them with speed and efficiency. If not for us for the others in our lives. So take the moments when you can. Lose yourself and search your very depths and face your humanity as often as possible. Find the strength to look at yourself flaws and all and the courage to admit your weaknesses. Mistakes are just flaws not repaired.  Just like a pencil has an eraser to clean an error, let acknowledgement be yours.

You are too uptight and Never said you had to have multiple partners but you are way to dominant. You can deny this all you want but it is very clear and apparent. You might think you can submit in a committed relationship but you can’t. You won’t. It’s him conceding to your will and happiness. And that’s not submission. Its role play. And your excuses and justifications do not make this any less true. I’m sorry you don’t want to hear this and ignore its validity but it is true. You simply don’t care and then wonder why it’s so hard for you to find someone. Someone wrote this to me, all because in response to a statement he wrote, I responded I dont just play with anyone, I am not a slut.

Dear Diary Tonight, the air is electric, charged with the power of MY presence. As the moonlight bathes MY skin, I feel the pulse of the universe within ME. Every beat echoes with the knowledge that I AM the embodiment of strength, beauty, and authority. To MY devoted submissives, know this: when you serve ME, you are not just serving a woman—you are serving a force of nature. Your obedience is the tribute you offer to the divine energy that flows through ME. Each task I set before you is a test, a ritual that draws you closer to the essence of your purpose: to please and honour your GODDESS. When you kneel before ME, you are not just submitting your body, but your soul. Your surrender is sacred, a powerful exchange that binds you to ME in ways deeper than flesh. In your submission, you find liberation. In your obedience, you discover the true meaning of devotion. Remember, MY desires are not just commands; they are opportunities for you to prove your worthiness. Every whisper of MY voice, every glance from MY eyes, is a call to action—a call to show ME the depth of your loyalty and the extent of your adoration. So, listen closely, MY devoted ones. The night is ours, and in its darkness, your true nature will be revealed. Serve ME well, and you will find the fulfilment that only the Black Goddess can offer. BLACK GODDESS 

This was my reply to a post on fet.  I thought it might be informative    Past time for a cleaning is generally not a problem imho. Although, I suppose that depends how far past. Maybe it takes a few visits then regular maintenance. If I may, you should provide the lock without a key when you do the furst meet and greet some time before the first cleaning. It should always be you who unlocks the lock and keeps the key. He can go away with the unlocked lock if that is what you choose and lock himself back up some time before the next visit.That sounds like a wonderful arrangement to me.

A 4 wheel break job and a panty job! What more could a girl ask for? This past weekend I had the EXTREME pleasure of being served.  He showed up in the wee hours of the morning and over the next several hours demonstrated a front brake pad, rear drum brake, and rear shoe job!  So interesting and I love knowing how to save Myself some cash in the future, as well as how to properly prepare the components of the  brake system in order to have them operating at peak performance.  I feel knowledgeable and grateful.  My favorite new find is Anit-Seize - so neat and in copper no less! After the brake job and LOTS of sexy stories, off we went to a Halloween party where he dressed as a she (wig and all) and mum and I were dressed as cowgirl and asian empress. Later on, after I got 'her' good and tipsy, I took advantage and traced those super silky lace pink panties.  It was SOOO HOT to feel 'her' squirm underneath My touch and move erotically.  I felt desire course hot for a moment or two.  lol   Thank you dear for sharing your talent, knowledge, and sweet sissy side.  It was fun and you are a hero in My book! Kiss

I have been getting a lot of emails asking to hear from my husband M. He sometimes signs on here and speaks with those who write me. So, I asked him to write a little report about something meaningful that happened to him lately. This is what he produced.    This afternoon, I happened to be in my room (dressed in regular clothes minus pants) when K came in unexpectedly, wearing a sexy, silky, blue push-up bra, red ruffled panties, and her strappy white 5" heels. It was just prior to the 4th of July and this was supposed to be her holiday-appropriate outfit for her boyfriend.  Seeing that she had gotten dressed up for her boyfriend, I knew what was coming; in this house, when K gets dressed up in something sexy, I know I will be getting dressed up in the printed ABDL diapers instead of my typical white ones. Sure enough, after rummaging through my closet, she picked out a white and baby blue trimmed t-shirt that she then put over head after telling me to raise my arms. "Isn't that cute," she remarked with a pleasant but rather condescending tone. She really likes this shirt because it stops and my waist.  This was followed by telling me to lay down for a change from my usual plain white diapers to my thick printed diapers. It was a quick change, all business, she ignored my caged penis as usual other than dusting it with powder. As she stood me up and checked the tapes, I caught my reflection in the full length mirror that hangs on the back of my door. I felt so humiliated, the smell of pee-soaked diapers coming from the diaper pail in the corner mixed with the constant aroma of baby powder filling my nose as she dressed me like a toddler, knowing she was about to have wild sex in the other room--something I would be excluded from, as usual. "You look amazing, K. I can't believe what that bra does to your boobs." I complimented her. "Thanks baby, too bad they're not for you," she told me, cupping her big breasts in her hands to emphasize her point  with a little giggle and I felt my little penis straining in my chastity device. "But I could try again if you'd let me," I said, trying not to sound too desperate. "M, how long are you going to continue asking?", she said dismissing me, "I don't even understand why you ask at all. We already came to an understanding a long time ago now didn't we? Has anything changed? will it ever change?" I blushed at the memory and meekly replied, "No." She was right of course. When I think about the conversation we had the night she told me we'd never have sex again, I know that I accepted our new arrangement. It's just that I guess I haven't got out of the habit of trying.  Turning me around, she gave me a firm pat on my diapered bottom and strode out of the room. Looking in the mirror on the back of my door again as she closed it, I again blushed with shame. About a half hour later, I heard the knock and K answering the door. I stayed in my room, working on the computer listening to them chatting at first but then walking down the hall past my bedroom into hers. They had been in there with the door closed for about 20 minutes when I heard... "M, come in here." I walked in with a little waddle and an audible crinkle, to see her bent over her boyfriend who was lying on top of the master bed. She was deepthroating his big cock and I stared in mesmerized silence, watching the thick, slippery shaft disappear into her wet, eager mouth and throat.Some secret part of me wondered less how it would feel to have that done to me and more how it would feel in my own mouth. Swallowing hard, I instinctively put a hand on the front of my soft, cushiony diapers. I just stood there watching for what seemed like eternity ignored by both K and John, but in reality was probably no more than 5 minutes. Finally, with a wave of her hand, she dismissed me, sending me back to my room, or anywhere really, just not with them. Before long, the sounds of their enthusiastic lovemaking filled the house and I listened with rapt attention. Looking at my humiliating reflection in the mirror, I blushed with shame at my pathetic image. Both of them saw me as nothing but a complete submissive, that would never change. My cheeks flushed with humiliation at the thought and I rubbed the front of my diapers all the more frantically as I took in my reflection. The short shirt, the print on the diaper that was starting to fade from the wetness after two accidents, the outline of my cage on the plastic shell. I was in frantic need of an orgasm, but because of the cage, there was little effect. Feeling sexually frustrated and wanting more, I went to my dresser and grabbed my favorite jelly buttplug--the big clear one, which I rubbed down with the baby oil K sometimes uses during diaper changes. Pulling the back of my diapers down, I could hear K moaning in the other room and her boyfriend's subtle grunting as I began pushing the fat buttplug into my eager hole. I can barely handle the width of this plug, especially at first, and I moaned with a mixture of discomfort and angst. I couldn't get it in standing and dropped to all fours. At last, it slipped inside me and I exhaled in relief. Nevertheless, as I pulled my diapers back up and sat down in front of the mirror and soon began to savor the feeling of rubbery fullness filling my back passage. M was getting what she needed and I was getting as best I could.  I don't even know how long I had been sitting there grinding, which so far had only resulted in further desire when M staggered back into my room and right up in front of where I sat. I sat there frozen as she lightly guided her fingers between her legs then told me to stick out my tongue. I crawled to her, inhaling her amazing scent, caressed her legs as I plunged my face between her legs and she let her boyfriend's creamy cum drip onto my outstretched tongue. "I'm dripping baby boy, clean me up please" she said with a smug grin and stood now with her feet shoulder width apart.I couldn't help but hurriedly press my face into her body. I could smell the result of their lovemaking as another man's sperm completely coated my tongue while I cleaned her with my mouth. Some even dribbled down to land on the chest of my infantile t-shirt. Suddenly, to my surprise, she stood me up and pulled me with the waistband of my diaper to the chair in the corner of my room where she took a seat and I stood in front of her. She abruptly pulled my diapers down. I whimpered with fear as she bent me over her lap, selecting the wooden paddle on my dresser. Feeling the cool air on damp bare bottom, I squirmed knowing I wasn't going to like what was about to happen. "You will not ask for sex again", she quipped as she brought the paddle down across both my soft, tender cheeks pushing the plug into me. "I'm so sorry" I managed to get out between the 3rd and 4th smack. I cried miserably, occasionally glancing over at my humiliating reflection in the mirror. There could be no doubt who sat at the bottom of the social ladder in this house--that was for sure! At last she finished, and after setting the paddle down, she left closing the door. Leaving me to pull my diapers back up for myself.   Sigh...just another day's activities at my house...

i cant I cant take it any longer i want to behave and make him proud but the walls i have built to hide my emotions to protect myself from being hurt i cant take it i have known him 11 years and i cant take it any longer i am getting mentally exhausted i cant do it any longer im about to crash and burn i know you will be there for me but truth be told the walls are up so i dont get hurt i love you so fucking much and i dont want it to end i know you always say i wont be replaced and that calms me a little but its still in the back of my head i cant take it any longer what can i do i dont want these walls up but i know ill become emotionally wreck i have all these feelings and i know once the walls fall again i will need you more than ever before these emotions i have been hiding will come out are you ready for that?

As an enticement Here are two decsriptions that I is did actually did perform and enjoy. That are not requirements, but a reflection of creativity and strength and fun. Perhaps these may motivate your interest   Tale 1 Years ago I was working professionally as a Dominant. My clientele typically were well off, all female, and seeking release from their careers. One in particular was seeking to be very much brought down in a submissive manner so that she could see herself and decide if that submission needed to be part of her life. One weekend, and yes, it was a stormy winter night, I went to her palatial home as arranged. The mood was to be very dark and I was to be dominant and very unyielding. She had only one way out of any situation, that was to ring a bell tied around her hand. That said, she was prepared for depths of dominance...... upon arrival, she was awaiting as instructed. Leather slave harness, well heeled thigh boots and kneeling in the entry way. I asked her if she was prepared and ready... she said yes. I placed my bag down, ball gagged her from behind, and clamped her nipples. She had a fine body and was already aroused. I place a posture collar on her and leashed her and made her follow me to her special room. Over the course of our encounters she had setup her own dungeon in her own place. There I stood her facing me and bound her limbs to the cross tightly. I then roped her to the cross at various points of her body so that her weight could be taken. For the next 2 hrs about, if flogged her, vibed her, made her orgasam at my will, and did what I wanted with her until she collapsed in her bondage. She knew this was the goal. After 2 hrs She was exhausted and emotional.... still though, she was defiant in verbiage to me as I worked with, but I always at all times called her how on her defiance and punished her for it. Seeking to drive her to submission forcibly was the mutual desired goal. In the end she did yield, where upon I released her and made her kneel properly holding by her hair roughly to the position. I removed the gag, and place a tight pvc hood upon her and regagged her with an in mouth penis gag. I then took her to a floor stock where she was bound and restricted at the arms, body, neck. I then plugged her ass with a plug and then placed a lubed fucking machine dildo in her and switched it on..... I told her she had to endure 2 hrs of forced fucking by an unyielding mechanical device or until she admitted she was a worthless cunt that was good only for fucking. This was a trigger phrase for her that she knew if she said it would allow her to descend mentally to the state she wanted to discover...... I sat in a chair and enjoyed controlling the unrelenting machine using her...... Interesting enough she lasted only one hour where upon sweating, and having orgasamed 5 times she begged for mercy and said her phrase and rang the bell in a believable manner. I release her and sat back in the chair an watched. She crawled to me..... rubbing her face against my boots, but pointed to her gag to be removed..... I did, and she at her own initiative said she was now truly a fucktoy, and cumslut slave craving only the release in submission she so desperately wanted..... I permitted her to orally pleasure me to seal the deal in her mind.

Raw Desire   Slinky, nimble nature. Lingering sweat. Frolicking tears.   Within pelvic bones something smolders deep aching need.   Luscious, round, and sleek breasts exude sweet lactation.   Moist, mature cunt gripping, stretching, fainting on the horn.