Llego se puso de rodillas frente a mi y me dijo: Señor vengo a limpiarlo, se que acaba de usar a una de sus perras... Es verdad en la mañana me había cogido a una vainilla que lo mama muy bien. bajo mi bragueta, comenzó a limpiar mi falo con la lengua, lo recorrió completo. Al terminar me pide permiso para chuparlo, se lo concedo. mamo con tal entusiasmo y habilidad que exploto en su boca rápido, los traga con gusto. ve por tu vibrador te voy a dar un regalo, la pongo en 4 frente a mi, le pongo su juguete, un instante después me pide permiso para tener un orgasmo en ese momento retiro el estimulo, le pongo su cinturón de castidad y la mando a hacer sus tareas. Una sumisa excitada es más obediente.   she got on his knees in front of me and said: "Sir, I came to clean you, I know you just used one of your bitches".... It's true that in the morning I had fucked a vanilla who sucked me very well. She went down my fly, began to clean my phallus with his tongue, she went all over it. When she finished she asked me for permission to suck it, I gave it to her. She blows me with such enthusiasm and skill that I explode in her mouth quickly, she swallows them with pleasure. I put her on 4 in front of me, I put her toy on, a moment later she asks me for permission to have an orgasm at that moment I remove the stimulus, put her chastity belt on and send her to do her homework. An aroused submissive is more obedient

Bridget Choses Enslavement   Bridget’s emotions were running wild.  The ride up to Master’s gave her ample time to reflect on this special occasion.  Bridget was to be enslaved today.  Master had often told her that all women secretly wanted to be possessed and owned by a dominant master.  Collared.  Be an enslaved slut.  Bridget had embraced her inner slave and wanted the delicious certainty of being a strong Master’s owned property.  What a glorious feeling to have no need to carry on with the soul killing charade of denying her sexuality, her submission, her needs and desires. Bridget was so sure.  She couldn’t wait for their special ritual.  The ritual was ordered by her Master but she had made adjustments and additions that had delighted Master.  She knew Master treasured her and all of her. He often remarked on her intelligence and how it drove her kink and also drove his passion to be her owner.  Master always said women with a desire for the collar, for enslavement were usually the very intelligent ones.   Before she left home Bridget paid attention in the shower.  Her shaving was meticulous. Her legs, arms, and pussy were smooth as possible. She thrilled at the thought of the way Master would cup her smooth, oiled pussy and run his hand back and forth as she squirmed and moaned. She knew Master loved to lick and kiss her clit.  He also like to use his Hitachi and a soft makeup brush on her.  He’d alternate the vibrator and brush on her clit.  Sometimes he’d just stop and listen to her breathing.  Bridget loved it when he chained her wrists and ankles in his bed and made her come over and over until she screamed.  He’d gag and blindfold her and make her come some more. Master had learned early in their play to put a towel under her.  The wet spot was something to see. Bridget’s enslavement ritual outfit was all white and had been her idea.  Master had suggested adding long white gloves and she agreed with relish.  Once out of the shower, at Master’s direction, she installed two Ben Wa balls in her pussy.  They went in nicely.  When she walked around she could feel them as she moved.  She wondered if walking in heels would accentuate the sensation.  Oh well, she’d find out soon.  Bridget loved Master’s toy collection.  He had a veritable fleet of vibrators including a very useful remote controlled beauty.  Master said he was shopping for an internet controlled vibrator for some long distance fun.  He also had a selection of nipple clamps, some fun and some she feared.  There was a lot more and she was sure the list was growing After carefully pulling on her white stockings and attaching them to her sexy garter she slipped on her skimpy white panties.  A curvy white push up bra completed her underwear.  She had a nice white blouse with a plunging neckline that accentuated her cleavage. Her brief white skirt would expose her slim legs and white stockings.  Finally she slipped on her white high heels with thosecute sexy little ankle straps.  Naturally she added accessories like a string of pearls and a bright red lipstick.  She decided she’d add her fragrance and put on the white gloves when she arrived at Masters. The miles rolled by.  Her heart sang.  She had made her decision.  It felt so right.  All the things she wanted to experience would be hers in a safe and protected place.  Master would help to explore all the dark kinky places she dreamed about.   The highway intersection appeared on her GPS. She had to turn north.   It was time to call Master.  She heard the phone ring.  Her emotions ping ponged.  Master answered with a pleased voice.  She was close.  He could almost sense her.  They both reveled in the joy of anticipation.     Master remarked that he was looking forward to draping her with his new 1/8” stainless steel chain.  Perhaps chaining her breasts with a nice halter.  When he mentioned that he’d like to chain her in Sirik Bridget’s was incredibly turned on.  The thought of the chain running from her collar to the chained wrist manacles and finally ending on the ankle manacles.  Sirik chain bondage allowed movement but served to remind her that she was owned, protected property.  Master loved everything Gorean and spent a lot of time finding ways to practically adapt the mores of Gor to earth.  A significant Gorean notion is that bondage enhances a woman’s beauty.  Bridget agreed but also concluded bondage made her horny as hell. The rural setting, the trees, the quiet appealed to her.  Here’s the driveway.  Turning right and pulling up the long driveway she found herself next to Master’s car and she knew, the beginning of her life changing event was close at hand.  She put her car in park and applied the parkingbreak.  She felt that she also applied a break on her normal, vanilla life.  She would enter the BDSM Sea.  Enter it as one of the more exotic and nuanced denizens.  She would be a slave girl, specifically a Kajira, a Gorean slave.  Bridget and Master had discussed many aspects of enslavement, slave protocols, sexual ownership, and what they each wanted.  She agreed with Master that after all, it was at its heart, an exotic adult game.  They both knew few could play the game, few could accept their role, and few could adhere to the rules and enjoy them with intense satisfaction.  Bridget loved her role and while their private play was so satisfying, she looked forward to their forays into various forms of public play.  Public Play involved exposing part of her BDSM life to the vanilla world.  Bridget always found it surprising.  She couldn’t believe the naughty sense of excitement she felt when she was exposed.  Was it humiliation, she wasn’t sure but it was very kinky indeed. She applied the bright red lipstick.  She loved the color and loved that her Master had told her he loved bright paint on her lips.  He said she was so attractive and luscious and he wanted her lips prominently displayed for him.  Next her fragrance, chosen because it was both understated and exotic.  At last she pulled on the long white gloves that came up to her elbows. Bridget and Master had discussed how she’d wear the long white gloves and he’d hogtie her and use his ball gag.  The picture in her mind of the helpless position always made her wet and horny.  Master had done this before.  Usually he rubbed a rabbit fur all over her body before he pulled her hair and squeezed her tit while he told her how he felt, what he wanted, and what he’d do with her next. As she turned toward the house she found the garage door open and as she had been instructed, she entered the garage and went to the back door leading into Master’s Rec room.  The lighting was subdued but she saw two large shapes draped in thin cloth.  She knew these were their BDSM toys.  Master had built a large cage for her amusement and a sturdy St Andrews cross that would fulfill her desire to be suspended and held helpless. Master had promised to cuff and chain her to the cross.  She knew she’d be naked and looked forward to the way master slipped a gag into her mouth before he applied something to her ass. Usually he forced a silicone bit gag into her mouth before he used his snake whip on her.  She could bite down on the bit and scream at the same time for the serious relief she craved.  Master had assured her she’d receive a serious whipping and perhaps caning that would leave some minor marks.  She wanted the marks.  She wanted to feel his touch afterward.  She wanted all of the things that ownership demanded. She knew Master had plans for an interesting combination Stocks and Spanking Bench.  Bridget had told Master she’d love to be placed in stocks and have her ass molested, pinched, bit, and butt plugged. She wondered if he’d make good on his promise to administer an enema while in the stocks.  Master had a lot of toys and equipment.  He had showed her the enema paraphernalia and it included an interesting flow meter that Master said was important to ensure reasonable flow and comfort.    Climbing the stairs she heard Master’s voice and it made her heart skip a beat.  She loved the way he spoke to her.  He didn’t speak at her rather he spoke with her, sharing his thoughts and sometimes emotions.  Master was sitting in a large black leather chair.  He was wearing his black suit with a black mandarin shirt and a nice red pocket square.  He leaned forward and motioned for her to come up.  He wondered about her trip and if the Ben Wa balls were still in place and how she liked them.  She told him about her journey and, yes, the Ben Wa twins were still in place and had directed her attention at the oddest of times, like stepping on the brakes. He asked her if she was ready, if she wanted to go through with their plans.  Did she really want all the things they had planned for, had discussed.  She knew what he was asking, giving her a graceful out.  Her mind was made up but his trust and care made her even more convinced that she wanted enslavement, wanted slavery, wanted to be an owned woman, Master’s property.  All of their discussions had led to this decision.  They both saw a Master/slave relationship as the purest and incidentally most fun form of a BDSM power exchange.  Both of their roles had been defined in term that made sense to both Bridget answered him by unbuckling her shoe clasps and removing her heels.  Pulling the ribbon from her hair she let it fall loose about her shoulders.  Bridget smiled at her Master and began removing all her clothing.  Finally she stood before her Master totally naked.  Master seemed very pleased. He rose and ran his fingers gently all over Bridget.  Master believed that a Gorean Master took great pride in his Kajira, his slave and should be familiar with every inch of her. Bridget knew that her actually collaring demanded that she be naked. She knelt gracefully before him, raised her arms over her head and crossed her wrists.  Bridget had assumed the Kolar or collar position of a Kajira, a Gorean slave.  She knew the message she was sending was that she was ready to be bound and collared.  Naturally she looked down and waited for Master.  The decision was not only made but by showing her acceptance of their planned bond to her Master she knew it was done.  How happy, how fulfilled.  She almost wanted to cry the emotions were so strong. Her life as a Kajira, a Gorean slave was about to begin.  See accepted that she must always be pleasing and offer perfect obedience. Master formally asked her why she was before him and what were her deepest desires for enslavement.  She continued to look down and at first her voice was a whisper but as she gained confidence she became secure and spoke with a clear steady voice.  She asked to be enslaved.  She pledged to serve Master in all ways.  She would be pleasing at all times with perfect obedience.  She would be the owned possession of Master, subject to his commands, dressing as he directed.  She spoke the words of enslavement, “bind me master”. She spoke the timeless pledge saying she wished to be enslaved and then crossing her wrists in front of her asked that Master bind her.  She felt the ceremonial tying of her wrists with the traditional Gorean yellow bindings.  Master then said he would complete the ceremony, their enslavement ritual, by collaring her.  She felt the collar begin to encircle her throat.  She gasped as he pulled her hair back so he could buckle the collar.  Her formal slave collar was polished metal and had a screw driven locking mechanism.  It would be difficult or next to impossible to remove, not that Bridget would ever think about removing the symbol that encircled her throat.  Master completed fastening her collar.  He took her chin in his hand and remarked on her beauty and suitability to be his Kajira. Master removed the bindings from her wrists and ordered her to stand and had her turn around slowly to display herself. She looked at herself and saw the beautiful collar.  All she could say was “La Kajira, La Kajira”, Gorean for I am a slave. Bridget now understood in a most intimate way that her master treasured her and wanted to enjoy his treasure.  Master had two more things to complete the ritual and the first had Bridget very nervous.  Bridget knew she was to be branded.  Thankfully the branding didn’t call for a real white hot branding iron.  Bridget received a henna dye print representation of the Gorean Kef, a very delicate elaborately beautiful “K”, leaving a sharp red image high on her left thigh.  Next Master spoke her new slave name. When Bridget and Master were together in their new roles, she would be “Sefa”.  Master explained that her new slave name was pronounced SEHF-ah and meant pleasure.  He said she was named that way to remind her how she must always be his pleasure slave.  She didn’t think that would ever be a problem. It was done. Bridget had been collared, branded, and named.   Master said he accepted her as his Kajira.  Master directed her to put on her garter, stockings, panties, and heels.  He snapped a leash onto her collar ring and said “bracelets”.  Bridget immediately put her wrists behind her back, slightly bowed her head, and turned around to receive Master’s manacles. Using the leash and her bound wrists he moved her forward.  Master led her around a bit and then out around the deck. Master often told her that bondage made a woman more beautiful and that served to make her move in a sensuous, elegant manner.  Bridget agreed and could think of nothing better than to be on her knees with her Master’s cock in her mouth. He took her over to a chair by the deck table.  He motioned for her to kneel.  He unclipped the leash and attached a short piece of chain to her collar.  The chain was connected to a d-ring embedded in one of the large deck posts.  Bridget was chained to a post with her wrists bound.  Never before had she felt so at peace.  She was owned.  She had been confined on her Master’s deck.  She felt the chain on her chest.  Bridget’s excitement was mixed with embarrassment and humiliation.  She was on her knees dressed like a tarty slut, out in the open for all the world to see.  She realized that Master was exhibiting her as his prize possession.  Of course she thought, it’s highly unlikely we’ll be disturbed.  We’re out in the woods on a secluded property with foliage all around.  Master laughed and said UPS or FEDEX might show up. Bridget’s life as a slave had begun.  She wished and waited for what was next.  Master said she was to be caged in his slave pen after they had discussed their enslavement ritual.  Master took a plate of fruit and picked up a small piece of melon.  He held it out for her to nibble. She daintily nibbled the fruit.  She was being fed by Master’s hand.  She felt a deep bond and happiness.  Next Master poured some of his cool drink into a small bowel.  He placed it before her and motioned for her to drink.  He was watering his slave, caring for his prize possession.  She knelt before the bowel and lapped at the drink. She felt so humiliated to be made to drink in this fashion but it also was so deliciously kinky.   Her journey had begun.  Life would never be the same.  A calmness, a fullness, a richness had descended on her soul.  Master caressed her cheek and breasts and then checked the manacles.  He also adjusted her collar.  Bridget knew master would always make sure she looked her best.  She was his prize possession. Master leaned back and took a small velvet sack from the side table.  “Nadu” Master commanded and Bridget went into the slave position that had her kneeling with her wrists behind her back. Bridget was fascinated  She knelt with her thighs spread wide, back arched, wrists crossed behind her back.  Master produced a bright red ball gag and told her to open her mouth. Bridget felt the ball pressed tightly into her mouth as Master firmly buckled the gag in place.  She found her hands bound behind her back, and the ball gag reduced her to small whimpers to communicate.  She knew she was vulnerable and totally in the control of her master.  It was delicious.  It made her wet just to think of all the things he would do with her.  The bracelets were gleaming metal and had a short length of chain between them so they were relatively comfortable. Master helped Bridget to stand.  He pulled her panties down to her ankles and helped her bend over. He guided her to lay across his lap and began to stroke and kneed her ass cheeks.  Master remarked that she had a pleasingly plump ass that just begged to be spanked.  Bridget felt her Master applying some kind of oil on her ass cheeks.  She wiggled across his lap into a more comfortable position. It made her feel exposed, controlled, at her Master’s mercy.  Bridget couldn’t believe how excited she felt, how she wanted more, more attention, more control. Master told Bridget that he wanted to assert his ownership, make sure she knew she was his property.  Bridget whimpered her assent. She wanted to be his,begged her master to have her, to make her his own, anyway he wanted.  Just do it now. Master began a slow rhythmic paddling of Bridget’s ass.  Slowly at first but soon faster and harder.  Bridget moaned and gasped. Master paused and asked Bridget if she was his, his property. Bridget thought “yes, yes, yes, have me, have all of me.  I am your Kajira and want to be nothing else”.  Master held up one finger which was the signal for silence Bridget was surprised that Master had shut her up, to be quiet.  She understood that he wanted to be in control.  He told her he felt so completed by their rituals.   Master loved the idea that they had built their own kinky world and Bridget loved the way he ruled it. He could silence her with a command or perhaps a gag.  She loved the delicious excitement when he placed a nice red silicone ball gag in her mouth.  Naturally Master could silence her by imposing speech restrictions and she always complied but the ball gag was so hot. Master reached behind her to the small table by his large leather chair.  Bridget felt his movement and turned her head.  “Oh my” she thought as Master’s hand held the red ball gag, a shiny bright metal butt plug, and a tube of lubrication.  Her heart beat faster as she realized she was in for another anal training session.  

Tears Wow… this is such a loaded word for me.  I have such a love hate relationship with these suckers… I am reluctant to even write on the topic.  For starters, being someone who gets migraines, a good solid set of tears, that leads to solid congestion can lead to a migraine, so over all I typically avoid tears if I can help it and I don’t need them.   My brain seems to produce these things at all the wrong times sometimes.  If am super angry… Tears.  Super happy in a nostalgic way… Tears. Super empathetic for someone… Tears. What the heck is with all these tears??? When they come during these high emotion times, I have zero control over them and their timing sucks!  If I don’t’ shut down the emotion can’t shut down the tears that come with it!  Going silent and withdrawing is often the only way to stop them.  This doesn’t help when I am furious and want to be screaming at someone. This doesn’t help when I am trying to watch a wedding.  This really doesn’t help when trying to counsel a friend who is having a hard time.  I need to engage and be there with them! The other side of the coin… and this was to my big brother’s demise growing up… I can sometimes turn on those tears with the flip of a switch.  Not the legit sobbing my heart out stuff usually, but enough to put a pause in the conversation if I am not happy with it.  I must watch my manipulative side with this.   (I have a broken door in my house because I wanted my husband and son to quit fighting one day and turned them on so well, then ran off and locked myself in the bedroom… the two of them quit fighting with each other and came to find me and broke down the bedroom door to check on me… I never expected they would break the door!) The issue is sometime this same thing happens against my will…  I may not be happy with the conversation, but I really DO want to talk it out, and not have those stupid tears affect the outcome… and the stupid things come anyhow because I am emotional!  So frustrating!  Then in my frustration I cry more!  Then get mad that I am crying, and then I cry because I am mad that I am crying, then it seems like I am crying because of the conversation… then all is lost, I can’t have the conversation untainted, and I am just straight up pissed off at myself. None of these tears are tears that bring me emotional relief though.  In fact, they often do the opposite.  They don’t affect my submission, (unless you count my bratting and manipulating with tears, in which case it might actually be bringing me out of my submission.)  There is one type of tear that brings me emotional relief and brings me further into my submission.  Tears from pain.  They are rare though.  Super rare.  I have health issues and I have (well controlled, without the use of narcotics) chronic pain, and medical professionals have put me through hell and back with some of the things they have done to me.  I get cluster headaches occasionally, some of the worst pain on the planet. (Imagine a brain freeze that lasts for 3 hours).  I simply don’t cry from pure pain.  Now, my eyes will water from it, like when your thumb is hit with a hammer, but it is just that, eyes watering, no redness, no sniffling, no sobs or bawling.  Sometimes though, I need to cry.  I need emotional release, and I need it to not be attached to anything like an argument, a friends ups and downs, an emotional event, etc.  I need my own personal release.   Where have I found this?  Complete and total submission, and I have found that in only one place… pain beyond my control.  There are lots of ways to give submission, but they are mostly all ways I still feel I control.  I can do dishes, cook meals, give physical pleasure, do penance like tasks, etc.  They are all things that I do because I am either happy to do or am willing to put up with the annoyance or interruption to my day to do.  That is really how my brain processes such things.  The emotional repentance within the brain is lacking and there certainly isn’t any call to tears over any of it. Physical punishment is different.  I don’t enjoy pain, I am not a pain slut, but there is an absolute difference to pain punishments.  There is constant thought and anticipation.  I don’t’ want to say anxiety because of the negative connotations with the word anxiety, but I don’t want anticipation to be taken as joyful excitement.  The period leading up to physical punishment.  That time between when you have done wrong, and when the punishment is administered… there is a gnawing in the back of your mind.  Driving the car, talking to your vanilla friend on the phone making lunch plans, brushing your teeth, watching TV, getting the mail.  Randomly, at any time.  It pops into your head!  You are reminded you have done wrong.  You are reminded that there will be a price to pay, and not one that will be easily dismissed.  You are reminded that with every ounce of your being, you are going to have to submit yourself to absolute unpleasantness to pay the price for your actions (or lack of actions depending on the situation).  This alone increase the emotional tie to the pain to come. When it is time for the punishment, it isn’t enough to be told to just go off on your own and do something and be done with it.  You must stand before your accuser, look them in the eye, face up to what you have done, admit your guilt, humiliation of the mind as much as the body as you bare your soul before them and present yourself to them, willing to take whatever they are going to give.  Knowing you will soon lose control over your body’s responses to the pain, jerking this way and that way, trying

I’m not interested in disrespectful, fake subs who throw temper tantrums like toddlers denied candy. I’m not here for a drama queen who thinks his pussy is somehow better than mine — sweetie, we’re not comparing fruit here. Life’s too short for attitude, bad manners, and ego contests. If you want my time, bring respect, humor, and a little humility… otherwise, you can keep your crown and your tantrums for someone else’s court

I responded to an email today in which I wrote because ai realized I am done.   I figured I would post it here being as when I try to change my profile Collar space goes into spaz outs and threatens to lock me out. "Due to yet another year of Covid, health issues of my own, and general life, I have decided that I can no longer be a responsible Owner The desire is still there but taking a slave is a huge responsibility and time sinkI have friends and history in the kink community that I stay in touch with, which I dont delete my profiles here and on FetLife.  So there it is folks.  Have a kinky happy life.  ~~ Mz Stormz

Femdom should be about finding joy and pleasure in a dynamic that suits you and your partner(s). Not about fixing a sub's sexism- not that it would work anyways. Most people I've talked to say that their desire for femdom predates knowledge of femdom, or of sexual arousal. While some people may have a more concrete "I'm into femdom because of a specific reason" most people I interact with like it because they like it. Vanilla people don't have to have reasons to like vanilla sex.

I'm surprised to see this site still exists. I've enjoyed BDSM lifestyle for numerous years. I'm not some mindless or spinelss door mate. I'm educated, a career professional and will always tempt you to be the best and most erotic Domiant possible. That my submissive purpose and desire. I had a play partner for nearly a years but went to work on a project in Europe for a while and lost a lot of US connections and friends. Earlier this year I crossed path with a Dominant female and it was intoxicating. She used and enjoyed me as her boy slut. All those submissive cravings and desires flooded my mind and body as she had unrestricted and unlimited use of me in very demanding and erotic ways. It made me realize how much I want and have missed this lifestyle. I've been used, shared and enjoyed as an obedient, submissive fuck toy. I love having my limits pushed and being used long and hard. This lifestle is best when the chemistry is free and mentally unrestricted. Trust that the Domme individual has the maturity level to forster an energetic and positive experience. I think a Domimant individual is at their best when not limited and mentally unrestricted to explore freely with a submissive. Trust is paramount.   

Quite often, I see profiles that list Weight as " 80 lbs" or "60 lbs" when they clearly mean kilograms. So either 1) They are correctly entering 60 kg but it's displaying as "60 lbs" anyway, a software error 2) Or really that huge a number of people keep making the same mistake and don't bother to select Kg when they mean it. Or a mixture of these two. Either way, sad, and ideally something that would be fixed (software) and/or improved (care in selecting) However, while I won't remember how this website was 8 yeras ago, I'm not sure I recall ever, in recent memory any "kg" weight from anyone, even in the UK. So the "kg" isn't displaying when it should, it seems. So someone picks "60 kg" and the rest of us see "60 lbs" or at least we do if we use lbs ourselves. That's not how things should work... But how lovely they fixed the Journals so we can share thoughts like the above! ;-)  

Well, all who follow me on the internet - I have relocated to Eastern Tennessee near ETSU.  My home is finished and soon I will resume teaching special women all about submission, obedience, and cock worship.  Too many of you believe that you are sitting on gold, but secretly fantasize about being used as a woman should be!  All three of our glorious holes drilled and utilized for the sadistic pleasure of your Master!   Think of it girls - Going out on the town - good food, great drinks when nobody can tell that under your clothing you are wearing a steel chastity belt, tight corset, rubber panties with two plugs, a remote-controlled vibrator affixed to your clit. your erect nipples poking through a rubber-lined open nipple bra, feeling the cool southern air through the silk blouse.   Suddenly you g as the vibrator begins to torment your erect clit!   Are you ready to rush home and please your owner in order to cum yourself?  Will he allow it, or will you suffer much and many more torments throughout the night?   Perhaps you will spend a long night in a cage, or strapped into bed until the batteries die. ONLY I WILL KNOW what and how your torments will end!

Why do you do this? So here is my question and my issue...  Why are you here?  I know that the fakes and scammers are here to try and make a buck, and the Doms and Dommes are hre for their respective reasons, but this goes out to all those subs and slaves that need to pull their heads out of their asses. I have been around CS since it was CM, Not even sure if my old account is still active or not but regardless I want to know, why it is you dont have at least the basic respect for the ones giving their time to write you a simple reply? I can understand scrolling the mouse over an email and ignoring it if it has one sentance, but if some one takes the time to write out a whole paragraph introduction and you still ignore it, leaving it unread for years and yes I said years, there are some that I personally did a cleanup on this last month on my email dating back to pre covid still unread Seriously, there needs to be the old user notes back on profile so that you can make note of those you talk to, have mail unread with, etc And to those reading this that actually have notes in their mail like this be it from me or others, at least give the common respect that We deserve and write back that your not interested at the LEAST so that we can, at least those that are level headed, can simply move on I know that I only talk to one at a time here, and if a mail goes unaswered for a few days of seeing that user online every day, I will move onto the next But not everyone is like that here, some will bitch, rant, and wine that why aren't you answering your emails etc Now not all of those are trolls or fakes, but a good portion are mentally children if they do that A good not to the Doms and Dommes ,,,  Dommes not so much really,,,  SOMETIMES you get better results with honey than spite

Well its week after the Montreal Fetish weekend and I can't help but to get depressed after being immersed in an environment which Is so conducive to acceptance. Having some impact play with VagaBound in the VIP dungeons was a breath of fresh air and him doing the photo shoots for me on the streets of Montreal And especially a City like Montreal that welcomes you so well being fetish and kink and being able to so freely excepted doing photo shoots around and on the streets of Montreal was inspiring. I cannot wait till next year MFW 2025 to create more content and hopefully I find the owner as the Rubber sub and Rubber Doll i am that can consume me and complete my existence. Its been a long journey. I am trying to concentrate on the next events that are ahead of me like Folsom Kink street fair SF September 29th 2024 and then DOMMETRIPS Cozumel Mexico October 5th to October 12th. As a early 57th birthday present. Then I also have to find a costume ball or event for Halloween for September. To go full latex Cat hood, catsuit too. Need to keep the constant rush happening for the adrenaline rush and excitement showing the rubber doll in me.  I am also have my attention on Claiming my tickets for MFW 2025 when they go on sale January and Fetish factory Florida Anniversary 5 day event 2025.

Mixed emotions today. Lastnight was the first real munch we have had since COVID where everyone in our bdsm community was present. Not a real BDSM play event as usualy. Mostly friends catching up, conversation and casual sex.I was laughing with Goddess Tabitha when Master William put his arm around me and started to fondel me. I got tense and Goddess reninded me to know my place. He took me to the couch and he used my body for his pleasure. I don't know what is troubling me most, the fact that another man used me without Master James looking on or the fact that I really enjpoyed him using me. My orgasm was shattering both physically and emotionally. Master James stroke took him from us months ago, but I still feel unfaithful even though he and Goddess Tabitha have always aloowed the men in our group to use me for their pleasure. Just when you think your heart has healed.....

The everyday sized dick Dicks I remember - A (soon to be) collection of the dicks that have made an impression over the years.Here is one about my most recent boyfriend. Now ex.When we first met he had troubles keeping it up with a condom on. I made him practice and only allowed him to wank with one on until it wasn’t a problem. It would later come in handy as I could easily pour his cum where I pleased.

 In his ass, on his face.His cock was average. I came to enjoy it. Especially for tease and denial and long sessions. Fuck for a bit. Have him pause. Sometimes with a ruined. Or to be honest, most times. And then back at it at my pleasure. He could never make me sore, hence a good size for the everyday, several times a day.He knew that I needed something bigger and hotter from time to time though. And that my previous partners were well better equipped. We once scouted together at a sex club but none was big enough to pique my interest. I felt generous so I allowed a man to use my boyfriend’s mouth and ass though (a side dick to remember).I did really enjoy his obedience. He always needed my permission to orgasm. He did good except from one time when I rode him on a chair. We were in a communal space and I sat on his lap, back towards him. The view of my ass, the excitement from possibly getting ”caught” and me not slowing down made him cum hard and without permission. I think he felt equally ashamed and satisfied. I let it slip. I really wanted to be filled.

I know your out there I feel your breathing I sense your need to be controlled. I have been looking for you for several years now I’ve seen you in my mind bound, struggling with the chain that binds you. The need to be used kept. You need even the decision of who to belong to taken from you. You only want someone to come and take you give you a home and a purpose. You don’t want to play at being a slave you want to be a slave. Even if I never find you I will still know you’re out there denying to yourself that this is truly what you wish for. I have denied that this is who I truly am what I need and want for to long wearing the guise of the gentle patient Master when the sadistic black side of me hides within. I want to feel your fear your need for my uses of your mind and body. I ache to feel your hair wrapped in my fist my hand at your throat the fear and need in your eyes.

Building a Shared Language Have you ever thought about the inherently flawed nature of language? What is the purpose of language? At the most basic level language is the attempt to take what is in my mind and communicate it to your mind. Much like the phone game this process is always going to be extremely imprecise. Words are concepts. I'm going to take a string of concepts as I understand them add modifiers and conditionals and then you are going to interpret those based upon your understanding of those concepts and modifiers. Take even the simplest of words. If I say a "tree", basically everyone understands essentially what I mean but not exactly. There are many different kinds of trees, they look very different from each other, they have different characteristics and quirks, different kinds grow in different areas of the world. I'm am in a more rural environment than say NYC is. Something tells me my relationship to the word "tree" is going to be much different from someone who grew up in an urban area. My mind makes different connections and ties different emotions, I'll picture something slightly different than every single person who hears me use the word. That's just for a relatively objective word like tree. What happens when we start getting into more esoteric concepts. Submission, wow talk about a word that can have so many meanings, so many different emotions and thoughts around it. The internet has been great in so many ways but it has also created a sort of collective consciousness, many words have been loaded up with toxic baggage. I like to talk about breaking a sub, but I don't mean it in the way you keep hearing it, the way the last 20 toxic people have used it.

 Pegstresss