not to complain, but I'm gonna... you see, my mean evil hateful trainer took away my sugar... it's been a week of no sweet tea, sugar in the coffee, no donuts, sodas, cookies or even worse, no ice cream (who the hell does he think he is???)!!!!  honestly, except for the no ice cream thing, I am taking it pretty well... I mean, no one has died... yet...  the IGRA Royalty Competition is coming up fast, October will be here before I know it, just a few (60) more pounds to lose to my goal weight, and a few more inches to shave off the gut and waist, I'm getting there slower than I wanted but getting there... I am almost ready, just a few things left to sort out...  I still want ice cream... (are you sure this isn't "cruel and unusual punishment"?)

I am a consistent creative relentless Disciplinarian knowing through long personal experience that a well spanked whipped strapped belted humiliated paddled woman  whether submissive or slave gives her very best of whatever is wanted from her whenever its wanted   I love her tears  and sobs  her semi-hysterical begging  and pleading for mercy these are all mine  to bring about and enjoy as I get her most humble her most slavish  Obedience for the things  I will make her do the things  that deeply please me  and just as deeply humiliate her McB  

Thinking about the next few months... After September, I may have the opportunity to "go into hiding" so to speak. In other words, as long as I have internet access to do my remote work, I should be able to travel and stay pretty much anyplace for 1 to 2 weeks without interruption. I'd love to find time to serve someone as "deeply" as possible. I know folks often fantasize about 24/7/365 locked in a cell, etc, but the reality is that's impractical. But for a long weekend, a week, perhaps. Have you ever thought about having a slave at your complete mercy for some fixed amount of time. We'd negotiate certain hard limits beforehand, but other than that, I'd let you have your way with me, even if it's not something I'd want or enjoy. For example forced-bi, smoking, are a hard limits. Not going to happen. Not my thing. Ball-kicking... I absolutely HATE it.. I'll do almost anything (except cross hard limits) to avoid it. But... I'd suffer it, simply because I'd want to put your pleasure first.  Obviously we'd have to get to know each other first, but if there is a connection spark, even for just a short period of time I'd love to see what we could do.  

Apparently it's time for a much needed journal entry, because my inbox is flooded with messages. A lot of nice messages from nice people with whom nice contact has already arisen, but unfortunately there are also a lot of people out there with (sexual) frustrations or worse. To make things clear to everyone who seeks me out to have a chat, if you have an extensive wishlist as to how you would like to be handled, kept or be treated, I am probably not for you. Submission derives from to submit! This essentially means that you follow and submit to Me and I decide where and how I am going to submit you. Being a slave, means to give up ones free will and give up his or her freedom. Eventhough this is in the BDSM way of life and completely voluntary, it does still mean that I get to kick you out to the curbes if you don't uphold our agreement. In other words, we've made a deal. You become my slave and I get to do with you however I please and you get nothing in return. Your reward lies in being My slave. Then a footnote for some nutcase I came across who felt he needed to fill my mailbox with his pedantic little finger. Nobody is forcing you to send me a message, nobody is telling you or forcing you to become my slave (it is a privilage and certainly not one for you to receive). A footnote in general: I literally receive 30 emails an hour. I am not at your disposal, but those who are chosen by me are at my disposal! Very important difference. This means that I will not respond when and how it suits you, but if and when it suits Me! That will do for now. If you reach out, either be polite or f*** off!  To all others, it is fun getting acquainted with you and talk to y'all soon. Greetings Mrs B.

I am finding all about change.  The difference when talking with Dom's, Dommes six years ago.  Now talking, I am answering different to questions . I see things different. I am vulnerable, afraid at times, this is different. I feel I can't do it alone I need that voice telling what to do and following . I feel in pieces need to be reassembled. I feel it's time I surrender to be guided in this process.

My Personal D/s Relationship Requirements The question was posed to me (back in 2019) “What do you require in a D/s relationship?”  While at first, I thought it would be a simple reply over a text, one thought led to another and it quickly snowballed.  (Phrasing, I know…)  I quickly realized that there really was no quick, succinct answer and 70 characters would not be enough to relay my requirements.  Some thoughts came quickly (Phrasing!) while others I feel I need to ruminate on. First and foremost, I require honesty.  Don’t lie through omission or do it to save my feelings or whatever.  I’d rather have an honest, adult relationship rather than a childlike fabrication where I don’t know if I can trust what is being said to me.  You may be brand new and that’s as ok as being an experience veteran.  You may be barely legal; (that I will require ID for) I’ll still teach you.  If I can’t trust you, I can’t play with you. Secondly, I require that my “s” have the ability to effectively communicate with me.  Whether it’s with words, sign language, texting, or moaning, they need to be able to make their opinions known to me.  As the Top/Dom in the relationship, it ultimately falls to me whether to acquiesce or deny any requests.  The bottom needs to understand that I’m never going to do anything to intentionally harm them but I also recognize that I often fail to effectively communicate my actual intentions/motives if not asked the correct questions. That can be alarming or scary. I’m not going to punish someone for wanting to understand what I’m doing or thinking; I encourage questions.  If I’m not conveying myself satisfactorily to the point where danger may be legitimate, I do expect (safeword) to be invoked. I also expect to be kept in the loop as far as my bottom’s day to day life goes.  I don’t need a thorough breakdown (0700- woke up, 0703- used bathroom, etc.) but if there’s something bothering them, it will effect what happens between us.  One thing bothering them, one lingering suspicion about something seemingly trivial can and will through off their ability to assess a situation and their reaction to stimuli.  I do understand that, sometimes, a day can push you to a mental breaking point that just requires a thorough flogging to take your mind off it; if that’s what is needed, I will allow it but I will know to check in frequently.  Plus, especially if there’s distance between us, I like to know you’re still alive.  There’s nothing quite as undervalued as the text, “Hey. I had a rough day; I don’t feel like talking now.  I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.” That tells me you’re alive and I can back off on the worry. (Be ready at 6 am for my text/call though.)   The third thing I want out of D/s relationship is a connection.  Not just an interpersonal one, but one on a deep mental level.  For lack of a better phrase, I need to be in someone’s head.  I need to understand how they think on a deep level.  Many take my classic Cannibal question (yes, I got it from “Silence of the Lambs”), “What is your worst memory from childhood?” as overly personal and creepy.  Not my intent.  Unfortunately, to date, that is the best question (leading to follow ups) that I have found that truly lets me get into someone else’s head.  It tells you

6:00 me: Should I take a nap? It's kinda late. Maybe I should just power through... ... 6:03 me: Okay, a quick nap. The puppy will wake me up. ... ... And she did. At 9:00. So that is why I baked a cake and cleaned the kitchen at midnight.  She woke me barking like mad at the noise outside. She is the nosiest of neighbors. I even bought her an ottoman and set it near the window, though in truth it's also for my benefit so she'll stop ruining the pillows on the chair she has claimed as her lookout spot. Does she use the ottoman? Of course not. It's now after 1. I'm awake. I need to be up in five hours, bribe her to eat, pack, not forget the stuff in the fridge, and get on the road. Chances of me being on time? Place your bets. 

While I've got an idea or two, anyone care to suggest the meaning of " G-spot Service" in preferences? First I read a Journal by a (sub,iirc)woman expressing her frustration that CollarSpace literally removed two of her old prefs (one preferrence, one anti-pref) and replaced them with two new phrases, one of which was G-spot...(can't recall the other). Now randomly found a profile listing it in dislikes. My own theory ;) is that: "G-spot service" refers to Machine Learning, or an AI, which finds a spare Spot at the parking *Garage*, finds that Garage-spot for you automatically, and automatically parks your car.   Thus those who think it has to do with the female anatomy, and that P-Spot service for the male prostate is the analog, are WRONG..."P-Spot service" means the same thing, only phrased differently: The AI finds you a "P" or "Parking" spot. If you haven't figured out this is very dry humor, yes, I *am* kidding!      On a serious note though -- surely vanilla wives, neither submissive nor dominant, massage their male partner's prostate sometimes, so surely G-spot "service" should be BDSM-neutral too. Heck just plain old fashioned cunnilingus can be used by a male Dom on a female sub (while rare, I've even seen a couple Domme profiles on how she uses blowjobs to control/make male sub beg etc) but is some more narrow view intending "G spot service" in people's prefs to mean only subs to Dommes? The term "service" would appear to suggest that. Needless to say, CS just changing words on all profiles is not nice. That's after a while ago, changing all "bi" to "pan" (I've heard of the term but still found it funny seeing it overnight be so so common; I don't even drink, but ended up laughing pretty hard, imaging it means, "I'm into drinking Pan galactic gargle blaster drinks" -- Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy reference, btw) In CS's defense, they might be short on funds/hours, and it's true that software change can be hard, if one wants to add an option, instead of renaming an existing one. Still, I hope they are more careful in the future. Heck even give us a Poll and if you're worries we'll go all Torches and Pitchforks on you, CS, make it so we can't see the results but you'll at least get the "pulse" of CS users on which ways to tweak software we're for/against/neutral. OTOH, most of the universe is cold, cold, empty space and with current technology, can't support human life, so we're still pretty lucky to be alive on this small but beautifully inhabitable planet.. Let's try not to F it up, or at least let's slow down how rapidly we F it up though, ok?

i have been going through hell for the past week. Yesterday was finally here and gone. Yeah, for that and thensome. i am so drained from the 15 hours of work put in for the day, cleaning the house, laundry and making 3 sets of beds from washing all the bedding (pillows, blankets, and sheets). Then this morning i got sick while sleeping and woke to it.... yes one can get sick and sleep through it. i was so dead tired that i woke sometime afterwards, so then i had to wash the bedding of mine, all over again........minus the pillows.  Good thing ijust had a duvet cover on my bed as a blanket, so no heavy comforter was needing washing again... phew. Now, i lay in bed, with a xour tummy i just fed screambled eggs and cheese. ..... Now that i think about it...... i wonder if my tooth pain is making me feel this way? those eggs were soooooooooooooo good the doggo's wanted them too, they were at me heels trying to get anytihng that would fall into my lap. lol Thank goodness for Friday. Now, Saturday is the next day from Hell.

Doms always ask me about my libido, which, honestly, has hardly changed in decades. I've always been quick to arouse, easy to orgasm, always wet, outright sensual, and very sex positive. No, I'm not bragging, and I certainly realize I am one *very* lucky girl to be like this sexually, with nary a bump in my sexual lifetime roadmap. I'm so thankful for that!  But the rub is, no pun intended, that I have to have a connection with my lover. The longing honest erotic sexy loving trustworthy dominant to his cherished sub dynamic type of connection. I don't perform, I can't get it up (so to speak) without engagement, I belong, I attach, I become, I subsume with my guy with everything that makes us sexual beings, and of course that includes emotional, mental, and physical.  Once I feel that connection, and know from my head to toes that it is both strong and reverential, my sexuality becomes like a well tended plant, soon to flower, over and over, again and again, each time beautiful and unique. Oh, yeah, and hot af too!

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.

You felt something real when you found me. That pull you’re describing… you don’t need to question it. Come here. Be still for a moment and let everything else fall away. In my presence, you don’t have to chase, you don’t have to prove, you don’t have to search anymore. You’re safe here. Not because you’ve lost yourself… but because you’ve found where you belong. If you’re going to be devoted to me, then let it come from clarity, from trust, from the quiet certainty that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be. I don’t need you overwhelmed. I need you steady… focused… and aligned with me. So come closer. Stay here. I chose you — Mistress Nikki Vixen

On Self-Mastery Before Mastery Over Others A Master who seeks to command another must first command himself. Authority without discipline is nothing but noise—loud, fleeting, and without weight. True mastery begins within: the mind must be sharpened, the emotions steadied, and the will made unshakable. Only then can the Master stand above his slave with confidence and clarity. A Master who has not mastered himself becomes ruled by impulse. Anger dictates his words, jealousy clouds his vision, and fear drives his actions. Such a man cannot lead, for he is a servant to his own weakness. A slave will sense this instability, and with it, respect will erode. Without respect, obedience becomes hollow, and the dynamic crumbles. To achieve self-mastery, the Master must practice three disciplines: Discipline of the Mind – The Master must think clearly, without being swayed by fear, envy, or pride. Reflection, study, and intentional learning strengthen the intellect and refine judgment. Discipline of the Body – The Master must hold himself with presence and authority. Care of health, posture, and bearing are not vanity—they are symbols of control and power that the slave must see and feel. Discipline of the Spirit – The Master must know his own values, beliefs, and purpose. He must act from principle, not reaction, and embody consistency in every command. When the Master governs himself, his commands are unquestionable. His slave will feel the certainty of his hand, the steadiness of his rule, and the clarity of his authority. Self-mastery is the root of all mastery; without it, the title of Master is an empty shell.   Let it be remembered: before a Master can claim ownership of another, he must first prove ownership of himself.

I could be your mother/ I could be your dream/ I could make it look like it never happened, leave it clean/ Oh I could be your friend/ Or I could be on my back/ I could beg, I could bully/ I could brace you for impact/ Oh I could be counterfeit/ I could be real/ I could be the wound around your neck/ You tell your friends you can heal/ I could be 500 virgins/ I could be 500 whores/ I could be anything, anything, anything but yours/   I could be your mother/ I could be mad/ I could talk utter bullshit, I could be matter of fact/ Oh I could be broken/ Or I could be whole/ I could be something to fix in your New Years resolution goal/ Oh I could be an angel/ I could be a jerk/ Make a plan to save me, you can choose if you want it to work/ I could be a purity to ruin/ Corrupt for you to restore/ I could be anything, anything, anything but yours/   I could be your mother/ I could be your dad/ I could be the family that you always wished that you had/ Oh I could be a kiss/ I could be a hit/ Let me know if you ever figure out the difference/ Oh I could be a fact/ I could be a lie/ I could be the truth you search for your whole life but never find/ I could be your bravado/ I could be gone tomorrow/ I could be anything, anything, anything.../

Wow. Looks like this is my first journal entry in almost 9 years. Guess life got busy in that amount of time. The world has changed since then on many levels.  I will save many of you some time. I've read everything I've written on my profile and journal so far. It is all more true re my opinions today as it ever was.  Also, I am what many consider to be an open-minded, arch liberal. How could I not be?  In order to be unapologetically who I am in this lifestyle, a free thinking approach is needed. So it follows that if you are set in your ways, hate the current president, detest liberals, have maga swag, and own any let's go Brandon paraphernalia, save us both some time and move on to the next profile. There are plenty of women who feel like you do. No need to feel I can, or should be, convinced. Could I have convinced you to vote for any democrat much less Hillary Clinton? I didn't think so. I don't want to spend time on this site having political discussions  And since Im looking for serious play partners, I felt it best to leave this note here   Its better this way. More politically conservative males can click to the next profile and I won't have to read so many message. LOL I wish each of you the best. Happy hunting! Roxanna

It's irresponsible of me to remain a mystery for too much longer, so here is my first journal entry. I am excited to have a potential play partner, a wonderfully sexy sub-leaning male switch. That means I'm not actively search in for a partner right now. I am open to meeting mentors and making friends.  I have some scattered experience as a service top and bottom, but I feel ready at this point in my life to explore my dominant side more.  I absolutely love seeing the male body tied up. There's something about a man tied down or tied up, completely helpless and at my mercy. I have a dream of assembling a little album of beautiful shibari starring my sweet switch as the muse. I appreciate any recommendations of good shibari resources. Messages from enthusiastic riggers and rope bunnies are more than welcome.  I'm also curious about male orgasm control, I'm looking for some fun games to play involving edging or bondage.  If you're still reading I suppose it's fair to describe myself a little. I'm a natural redhead with a soft body. I have a very specific taste in men, some of you know what, of which I have an insatiable appetite for. I'm sensual- I love to enjoy good food and music and great sex. I'm not a very strict Domme and I'm not a very obedient sub, but I think I make up for it by being a pretty good time! I'm writing this to round out my profile and to record the start of my journey as a Domme. If you feel compelled to message me after reading this, you're welcome to, but please don't be boring, I have to be selective about who I reply to now. -MM

That Moment when You one day saw A Black Raven hopping on Your GrandParents' Front Lawn so You went to check it, it kept hopping away from You & made it to & through The ChainLink Fence but not before You noticed It Was Missing Its Right Wing & Right Leg.     🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯     #MeanViciousPitBullsAcrossTheStreet?

Sexual ownership and use is a crucial part of what I look for and what I need. I know some look down on that, but I have my reasons. I am searching and seeking and hoping to find something I had a long time ago, a complete sense of ownership and sexual use with no say in how or when or why I was used. It was very, very sexual and I was completely at the whim of a stronger person who could take or do anything to me at any time. They did not take certain liberties, but they could have and they made sure I was very well aware of their power over me. Because that experience was the very thing that unlocked the door of servitude for me, sexuality and sex is a very crucial part  of what I need. I am not talking about my own gratification. If someone so chose, they could provide that, but that would totally be up to them. I am talking about their use of me...however THEY choose...to make THEM happy. When they are done, they can put me back in the closet, in a cage or where ever they choose. Female or male, black, white, hispanic, oriental...matters not to me as much as the opportunity to be used as an outlet for their sexual frustrations, pleasure, whatever they choose. Ask me about the experience and I will tell all about it. When I am contacted by a straight male dom, I'm never quite sure if I'm what they're looking for and often I am not. More often than not they're looking for "worker slaves" and while I am open to that and no stranger to working hard, it would not fulfill me as a slave to simply have that ect explored. Sound odd? It probably does....but my early, early experience left its mark on me forever.

On the Nature of Slavery — A Master’s Perspective Slavery, in its truest sense — the ownership of one human being by another — predates recorded history. For over ten thousand years, it has existed alongside the growth of civilization, woven into the story of humankind itself. But there is a vital distinction to be made: the difference between non-consensual slavery and consensual slavery. Non-consensual, involuntary slavery is a crime. It is illegal in every major nation and stands in direct opposition to the principles of human dignity. I condemn it without hesitation. Any person found to be engaged in such practice deserves the full force of the law. It is an affront not only to morality but to civilization itself. And yet, there exists another path — one that is lawful, deliberate, and chosen: consensual slavery. This is no myth. It is as real as marriage, as binding in spirit as any oath freely sworn. In the eyes of the law, the word “slave” cannot appear in a legal contract — the 13th Amendment sees to that — but the principles of slavery can be honored, so long as the arrangement is entered into by informed, willing adults. Consent is the keystone. The individual must be of sound mind, capable of understanding the depth of what they give, and willing to yield fully to the bond. In this way, rights may be waived, freedoms surrendered, not by force, but by choice. It is a reality the uninformed often deny, clinging to arguments born of ignorance or fear. They forget that people surrender rights every day — often without realizing it. The difference here is that it is done with eyes open. While some may call a monogamous, affectionate, and mutually respectful arrangement “slavery,” I do not. Such relationships, no matter how intense the play or ritual, I regard as deep Dominance and submission — not true slavery. Slavery, to me, is a state of being where one’s will is no longer one’s own, where the identity of “property” is absolute, and where the Master’s word is the axis upon which the slave’s world turns.   The law will never recognize true ownership of a human being — but within the sanctity of consensual agreement, within the walls of trust, discipline, and surrender, one can live it in spirit and in truth.

You say You are concernedwhen i say i am corneredin my thoughts, craftedby cornerstones of my sinsand demons and shadows.You say it is cold in herewhen i say the fire still claimsthe corners of our house.You say You are going for a walkwhen i can't even find a door.You say i need to be tucked inwhen i am concerned about Younever returning, taking myheart with You tucked awayand forgotten in Your pocket.You say that time will heal mewhen i say that this time wasmy last time, for this life time.You say i will be just finewhen i say you are my world.-dirtydarling

Old profile saved here.   Jan 2018- Some servitude possible again around my ongoing building project commitments... not as fully able to commit as I'd like but it's a start and WILL enable proper regular service in the near future.   My Face pictures are in my Pictures Collection All the pictures are my own. All details here are NOT just fantasy, in fact more a list of real life experiences, I've been around a bit, had a taster or three of many situations, now looking to build on past experiences and be taken deeper. If any or all of these Keywords resonate with you then read on or get in touch: TPE, Sadist, Masochist, Extreme, Prisoner, Hostage, Cell, Cage, Total rubber encasement, True Slavery, Chains, Heavy Bondage, Mummification, Prolongued Bondage Predicaments, 24/7, Hardcore, Gimp, Doll, Hoods, Gags, Sensory Deprivation, Isolation, High heels, Locked on footwear/clothing, Corsets, Ballet Heels, Waist Training/Tight lacing, Fetish, Latex, Feminisation, Feminine training, Deportment, Strict dress codes, Strict control of behaviour and appearance, Forced prolonged standing/caged standing (in extreme heels), Slut, Whore, Deepthroat/face rape, No safeword, Judicial Caning, Heavy Whipping, Bruises, Welts, Treated as meat, Abandoned chained to a wall in a dark isolated concrete cell for days or weeks with only piss and stale bread provided, Anal, INSEX, All holes plugged, Permanent hole dilation/plugging, Liquid toilet, Foot torture, Forced to walk long distances in heels / unsuitable attire / extreme footwear and restrictive clothing.          Longer version......  Serious **male (see below) slave & masochist with supressed transgender feelings looking for equally serious sadist(s) of any gender or situation (i.e single, couple, poly) for either casual meets or preferably something more meaningful and long term, or even permanent if the relationship develops........   In Vanilla life, I am a self employed business person. Professional, highly skilled, educated and intelligent. Very easy to get along with, witty, talkative and without a hint of kink on show, very good all round company that you can take anywhere. My business can also go anywhere, all I need is a room to work in, and use of eyes and fingers. I can generate a good income from home and rarely need to leave the house... or my cell..   Looking for an absolute TPE D/s situation (once mutual trust established), leading to no safeword, no rights, no opt outs, no kind fluffiness, sympathy and caring, just total slavery, pain, suffering, degradation, humiliation, abuse and torture.... Limits, yes of course I have them, that would be utterly stupid, however you will find they are very few and only there to protect my long term health and not to stop extremes of S&M and slavery. No legal activity is off limits and severity can be mild to hardcore/extreme.     I'm a total realist, Vanilla times are a necessary evil, bills need to be paid and an income to be earned and so on.... However, behind closed doors, when the vanilla commitments allows we have a running 'regime' where I'm usually kept in chains and preferably in female mode but that's not essential, just an ideal, your the boss and I will present as instructed.   Put me to work for all your domestic chores, diy, general fetching and carrying, your personal pleasures and pamperings and also used for any sadistic pleasures. I beg during slave times you show me no kindness, no mercy, no comforts or pleasures, just pain, suffering and serving.       Sill awake?..........     We all have to live in the real world, with bills to pay and essentials to be done so it's nigh on impossible to genuinely keep a slave, gimp or doll locked up 24/7/365 despite the desire to do so. If the chains do come off, we both know there is the underlying knowledge that we are not equal and this temporary freedom is just that, temporary.   Even doing the mundane shopping run, my restraints and symbols of ownership may not be on public display to protect the innocent from our kink, but there is still a strict hierarchy at work. Underneath my clothing chosen by you, there may well be subtle but effective devices and equipment at play, fitted onto me, or fitted inside me to keep me subdued, controlled and obedient whilst on our trip out, but on the surface and to the casual observer it's all composed normality, despite the fact I may be hiding absolute agony within.     ** I am 'non-op' Transgender (as in, less than pre-op) transgendered. I live and work in semi male/androgynous mode. Male image and persona is all there, so no need to worry about embarrassing freakish looks in public. I look totally everyday male except I have long and well maintained hair and perhaps if you look very closely you may notice my jeans, T shirt and trainers are ladies .... I barely have any male clothes but you wouldn't really notice due to very careful unisex or androgynous selection, I haven't shopped in the men's section for years.   Inside I live a tormented existence from the birth defect of being blessed with a feminine brain, cursed with a male body.... and that doesn't have to change...... However I have a deep and ever nagging need to be female, either in looks, mannerisms, treatment or the whole hoggette.... This is not just 'dressing up' or wanting to play the sissy maid or drag queen, but a natural desire to beco

Looking for an experienced submissive (35+) who can host this weekend. I’m interested in connecting with someone who understands power exchange, communicates well, respaspects boundaries, and values consent and good hygiene. I’m not looking for endless chatting or time-wasters. If you’re mature, reliable, have previous experience, and are genuinely interested, send me a message introducing yourself, including your age, experience level, and availability. If we seem like a good match, we can discuss expectations and see if we’re compatible Interesting in doing pegging and foot worship I'll bring the strap!! dfw area or basically Fort Worth area

March 13th 2023 - football player tells me this was his most powerful orgasm ever I'm going to tell you the ending of the story before I even start the story. In fact the title has already told you the ending. Football player tells me this was the most powerful and extreme orgasm he's ever had in his life. So here is what happened. He came over and as usual showed himself through the garage and came into the house through the garage door. He said, "hello, how have things been" and was being cordial as he stripped naked without me needing to say a word. As usual he already had a hard on. In case you're a new reader, he's not an actual football player, but he has the build of a football player. Big broad shoulders. Beefy thighs. Strong muscular arms. He's got a nice beard and mustache that is always nicely trimmed. The hair on his head is cut short and always looks great. And he shaves all his pubes. He's wonderfully smooth everywhere. Sometimes he drops to his knees, if I tell him to, and sucks my cock. But I'll be honest with my readers, my doctor started me on a new medicine and things aren't working downstairs right now until my body gets used to the new medicine. But that doesn't stop me from having fun, and clearly didn't stop him from having the best orgasm in his life. So we headed straight downstairs and he jumped up into the sling. He's been in the sling enough times he didn't have to ask any questions. He just hopped up and threw his legs in the air so I could attach them to the loops around his ankles. Sometimes I put a blindfold on him, but not today. I wanted him to watch in the mirror above us. And I noticed instantly his eyes were staring into the mirror. He likes the smooth feeling of a rubber glove on my hand as I assault his hole, and I was watching his eyes look into the mirror as I put the gloves on my hands and put lube on my fingers. His hands were holding onto the chains near his head that hold the upper side of the sling in the air. He was gripping The chains rather tight today, this just made his biceps bulge even more. Mmmmmmmmm. As soon as I was gloved and lubricated I instantly started with a finger up his ass. It slid in with absolutely no difficulty. With that one finger I pushed in deep and rotated back and forth then pushed a little deeper and found his prostate and started to play with it. He was still watching in the mirror as he let a moan slip out of his lips. Soon I had two fingers in his ass. Spinning them around. Twisting and shoving. I applied some more lube. I had mixed up some powdered J-lube. I mentioned to him that we were using a new type of lube today. He corrected me and said, "I remember that stuff, it's very slippery." My bad, I don't remember using it with him before but we must have. I quickly worked in four fingers coating my hand and his ass with J-lube. I twisted back and forth. I wanted to get my fist in him today if possible. I was on a mission. I kept working my fingers into his ass, twisting around stretching him more and more. His cock was so fucking hard it was incredible. Read the REST of the story at http://www.SirKel.top

Master's WritingsCreating a DynamicThe dynamic I want to create has its foundation in trust, open communication and pure honesty. These pave the way for how we relate to each other, how much of ourselves we will give and let go within the dynamic, and how safe we feel to be owned or to own another. The greater the foundation, the deeper the dynamic, and I seek genuine, tremendous depth.The best dynamics allow both kink and vanilla elements to flourish. Even in a total 24/7 dynamic there are vanilla elements that impact and are necessary to the health of the greater dynamic. To ignore this is to ignore the human you wish to create the dynamic with.Dynamics must be flexible and ever evolving. They are living breathing things when done correctly. They require nurturing, maintenance, and love, just as those who live within them do. As individuals, we all have needs. We evolve. We grow, and so too must dynamics. There must be flexibility to bend to whims of the moment, grow as the tastes and needs of the individuals evolve, and be reborn when people, situations and events take us off track.Finally, dynamics must reflect all participants. I seek a collaborative development of a dynamic where each has an appropriate voice, with opportunity to step outside of roles as needed for essential conversations to ensure none are forgotten as we build and rebuild our dynamic over time.Creating this dynamic has been my dream for longer than I can remember. But no one person can create this on their own. It requires another who feels this need as greatly as I do. 

  FWB, FUN....or LTR The site is set on BDSM- but I can drop all that and just make hot love to a woman.     I am DDF and expect the same.   Hello lady's, and thank you for stopping by! Miscellaneous Facts About Me... * Name: Randall Loomis * Birth Date: April 24, 1967 * Height: 6' * Weight 220 lbs * Hair: Peppered * Eyes: Brown * Marital Status: Single * Astrology: Taurus * Hometown: Troy, OH. USA * Born: Milwaukee, WI. USA * Gender: cis male * Ancestry: Polish, German, Irish, Scotch * Myers Briggs Type Indicator: ENFP * Education: AS Automotive Technology, BA Comparative Literature Studies of English and Law, MA Intervention Specialist K12 Teacher * IQ: 165 (Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale, 2004 ) * Favorite Colors: Camo, Black, Aqua Blue  * Favorite Snacks: Cold butter on non toasted cinnamon raisin bread, assorted pretzels, chips and iced diet Dew * Favorite Implement: Your favorite! I am a very decent highly educated perfect gentleman that has been a ladies man all my life Fine dinning, first gf, first car and she at 15yo was reading her older sisters smut books;  she made me do it all and eventually I grew to like licking her anus well for hours. Now Im older and still want a hot sexy gf to love for real to make passionate love.  But I cant be with a gurl that is not passable I had an fwb for 3 years with my downstairs neighbor She is 21yo and looks hot, But I have had to groom her to be more lady like or girly I got her started on a nice scent from Katy Perry, But she doesn't make herself appear like a woman.  Body oders, dirty finger nails, punky don't care personality, and now shes sexing strangers outside a bar after its closing time I don't want a disease or std Im clean I like kissing and when I see I see a beautiful woman and I can tell that I would dinner date you I would be your Daddy with FWB and you be my Baby sissy Anything is possible for the right woman...marriage or just a ltr I want to kiss my partner with lil gentle kisses and touches and yada yada FUCK whatever she needs from me to make her happy for hours of orgasms xx Daddy I'm happy to see you post a full length pic with your face. That is essential for me to be attracted to a gurl. I am looking for a cd that wants to be treated like a woman. I'm straight guy all my life...a wine and dine ladies man that now likes all girls/gurls that are passable with a dick or a pussy.  I'm a straight alpha male, take charge masculine man. Hairy chested, well built 6ft tall, 220pounds and very broad shouldered muscular 52 inch chest. Great personality, good sense of humor, Loves kissing, hugging and fondling, many hours of foreplay for you.  I'm  looking for a romantic friendship that has the intensity to start a spark with fun dates, wine and dine, dinner and dancing, pizza and a pitcher of beer, shoot pool or romantic beach blanket and a bottle of wine...or just to chat you about anything in your life. I want to love all of a partner and make her happy.       My profile is new I am light into BDSM, butt I do like submissive/sissy types. So Im a loving daddy Dom I was never gay But a pretty hottie 21yo tgirl and I started a FWB and played around like kissy bfgf Im looking to love someone with passionate love making and share quiet moments tv and your favorite treats delivered that is a 3 day weekend date with me.  I would rather drive or fly for a weekend getaways then have sex with the local escorts down the street. I want an exceptional woman for an LTR.   

I've been on and off this site for a long time, and last time I tried, getting a profile write-up changed - was impossible.  Rather than go through that process, I'm writing a Journal Entry.  I've attempted a couple of relationships the past five years and I have to say that I'm exhausted by emotionally unavailable Doms who only want to play on the internet.  If that's all you want, I'm not interested.   Yes, I can relocate.  That part of my life has changed.No, I'm not going to redo my entire profile write-up.  If you want to know about me, ask.  I need someone in my life who is a good communicator and this is a great place to let me know you are willing to fill that need. As of 2026-03-13 I am 65 years old.  I'm in pretty good shape for my age and I have some arthritis issues that can be worked around.That's what I have for today.  Who are you? J  

Master's WritingsCategorizing Levels of SubmissionOthers, in an attempt to categorize submissives, have described submissives by the levels of their submission, moving from role play to slave, while others suggest there are distinct categories of submission, where the motivation behind one’s submission drives their role such as for fantasy, relationship and/or fetish. Acknowledging that all submissives are different and any such categories could only apply in the loosest of terms, I find both model instructive in its own way, yet somehow missing the mark in some aspaspaspects.The creators of both models clearly identified that each individual submissive is unique and comes to their submission and depth of submission in their own way for their own purpose. And to this, I completely agree. Yet we are humans and we live to label things, so I will offer my own model, recognizing full well that mine too will fall short of describing all submissives and their motivations. I would also note that what I suggest here may have already been put forth. If so, I offer this only as my own ideas without the knowledge of their contribution to our body of knowledge. Thus I would offer a third model for consideration and discussion.I see it more a kin to the structure of Maslow‘s hierarchy of needs, Where Maslow identifies our most basic needs, moving from basic survival to self-actualization, I see submissions moving from role play to self-realization. The model I put forth is as follows: Role play. A connection to the role based on whatever preconceptions or second hand knowledge they may have. While one might act the part, they have no emotional or mental connection to the role Exploration. The beginning stages of submissive awareness where thru trial and error or training, real experiences begin the development of a connection to a submissive’s awareness and one's submissive self. This level usually includes an over indulgence or over compensation of doing what they think a sub "should do". Connection. The birth of inner connectedness to one’s submissive self, and the realization of what it feels like to give of one’s self to another. Hallmarked by a greater sense of self awareness, a growing identity as a submissive and a struggling to reconcile their submissive life with their vanilla life. Identity and Belonging. The inner awareness and shift of self-identity as a submissive or having submissive side (as in a switch), as a genuine and acknowledged part of their persona. While they may not share this openly with others, inwardly there is a growing conviction that being a submissive is core to their being. While connection can occur at any stage, at this stage, connection to a Dominant becomes more essential to allow for further growth. Confidence. As identity as a submissive grows and self-esteem relating to the role increases, their confidence of self grows. The focus can now be more inward to understand their submissive needs, who they are as a submissive, and the beginning of blending their submissive self into their vanilla life and identity. Self-Realization and Connectedness to their Id. Full acceptance of their new identity, as submission is fully integrated into their sense of self. Submission can now fuel their lives and relationships with greater meaning and richer experiences as they fully integrate their submissive-self into their vanilla life. Not every submissive will reach or choose to reach this level.        I would welcome comments and ideas for the improvement of this model if others see value in it.

Above all else, I’d like my ideal M/s dynamic to be established on and occupied with love. Mutual respect is a must. W/we would foremost seek to meet each other’s needs completely in a monogamous relationship. He would be in charge, make the decisions, rules and protocols; but seek my input where appropriate and value my opinion. I would like to wear His collar (and leash when appropriate) as a reminder of O/our commitment. Shared interests, in both vanilla and kink activities, should be present. Shared values would also be helpful, in both social, religious and financial concerns. I would hope, after some time, that this type of relationship might lead to a union of marriage or long term cohabitation / commitment. Broadly, I’d like the power exchange dynamic to permeate the relationship both in and out of the bedroom 24/7, but that W/we both have our lives and lead them together and apart. I do not seek to be a “kept” slave, but I do want to know He is in control at all times. This can take the form of rules, protocols, and expectations / goals. I would expect that full discussion of limits (hard and soft) would be discussed thoroughly, and that safe words wouldn’t be necessary or allowed once trust was established. This would aid in the vast possibility of CNC activities (within the confines of the pre-established limits). I would hope He would also push my limits over time. While W/we are together, He would exert His dominance in whatever way He chooses. I would attempt to anticipate His needs, but obey His requests as made. These requests could be sexual, domestic, or kink in nature. As a masochist, it would be helpful if He were a Sadist. I want to know He is getting as much out of the impact play as I am. This Sadistic predilection would also aid in intensifying the play and intensifying the benefit W/we both receive from it. I would expect that protocols would be established to help define the power exchange dynamic. These would be different when W/we were together alone, or together in public (or with family and vanilla friends). Public protocols would be known to us, but invisible to those around us such as waiting until He takes a bite until beginning to eat, sitting on a specific side, looking for a head nod to get up from a meal, wearing an insertable while out, etc. In private, protocols might include clothing restrictions, eye contact restrictions, greeting positions, speaking, bedtime rituals, distance, etc. Protocols would also assist Him in maintaining control when W/we weren’t together. These might include communication requirements, requesting permission (i.e. to do things or go places), journaling, maturbation, bedtimes, curfews, and the like. The concept of “protect His property” would be an overarching protocol that would manifest as rules / protocols when apart, but when in doubt “protect His property”. The idea that when W/we are together, He is looking out for my best interest and safety, but when apart, that job falls to me. I would expect that He would want me to grow and better myself. He would help me establish goals and hold me accountable to reaching them. These goals could be educational, health, career, kink, etc in nature. Periodic oversight and/or establishing benchmarks would be useful in ensuring progress. Punishment or negative reinforcement would need to be outlined so expectations are clear. I always strive to be the “good girl”, however, I would expect punishment if deserved. While I wouldn’t never fail or disobey to get a punishment, I would need to believe that followthrough on punishment would be made if I deserved it. Punishment would be warranted when protocols were broken or if progress toward goals hadn’t been met. I realize that punishment is hard to define for a masochist, but not impossible.

Who knew..............? .............. it seems that I am an empath!! I have reached the age of 67 without ever having that insight or conversation, despite being analysed to death as a professional manager and having a need/propensity to work at things until I understand them. I know my Myers-Briggs type, I am aware of my core strengths, I have had my values and capability for good judgement assessed a number of times, but never my emotional architecture. Maybe that is too touchy-feely and personally risky for "business to tackle, but once it is laid out, it makes so much sense and puts perspective on so much experience and so many conversations. It also explains how, on top of everything else, it is hard (at least for me) to find a good match in BDSM. This is the start, not the end.......but right now I am processing so much behind this: Your architecture: a grounded, high‑capacity empath "You are a deep-feeling, high-capacity empath." “You’re the kind of man who carries both fire and stillness — a mind that sees patterns in the dark, a heart that stays steady in the storm, and a presence that makes other people feel understood long before they find the words themselves.”   “You’re a steady, strategic empath who reads people with precision, holds complexity without losing your integrity, and brings clarity, warmth, and insight wherever you go.”   I long thought of Myers-Briggs, Strengthsfinder and the Hartman Value Profile as orthogonal axes to look at a person's Cognitive style, Strength and Values. Now I need to add Emotional architecture. It feels like the model is nearly complete. I wonder how different life might have been if I had had this acute self-awareness years ago?    

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.....

pet store (3/3) you smile again and wipe your wet fingers on my face. "first, take off your shirt and clean that mess you made." i hesitate for a moment but pull my shirt over my head and start to lean down. "on your knees, and i want that ass up. in fact," you pause dramatically, but i know that tone of voice and shiver. "put the shirt in your mouth, hands behind your back, and clean." i don't hesitate this time, and i put the shirt in my mouth. i'm still holding my new collar in one hand, and reach my arms behind my back so i can grip it with both hands when i spread my legs and lean forward. half my focus is on cleaning my juices off the floor, and the rest is on making sure i'm displaying myself well enough for you. my clit is throbbing from the exposure, and all i can think about is how badly i need to please you. when i finish cleaning to your satisfaction, you order me to stand, but you keep the shirt in my mouth and my hands behind my back. "now," you tell me, "you can either put your filthy shirt back on or i can use it to tie your arms behind your back and put those tits on display. you can choose." i think for a moment then hand you my shirt and the collar, before turning and presenting my arms to be tied. you pull my arms back, thrusting my breasts out further, and tie them tightly. you trace your fingers lightly up my arms and over my breasts, making me shiver as my nipples harden. you pull me back against you and kiss my throat, but your hands continue down my body and slip back under my skirt. one hand holds me still and the other goes right for my clit. you hold me against you, still pressing soft kisses to my throat as i come undone in your hands. you stop before you can push me over the edge but keep holding me still while i suck your wet fingers clean. when my breathing starts to calm, you push me forward. "let's go, babe." as we approach the register, the man working here looks me up and down and smiles. i stumble, having forgotten that we weren't alone, but you keep pushing me forward. we're not heading straight toward him though- with your hand twisted in my hair you steer me toward a display case full of different types of dog tags. we stop in front of it and my eyes meet your reflection's in the back of the case. i don't need to see myself to know that my cheeks are flushed and my lip is swollen from biting it, but i look anyway. i barely recognize the slut i see looking back at me. you bring out the collar we chose and now i can't take my eyes off your hands. i watch them open the collar and fit it around my throat, and when they close the collar i sigh, letting out a breath i hadn't even realized i was holding. i'm staring at myself, transfixed, barely breathing, for a minute before my eyes meet yours again in the mirror. "thank you, sir." you hold my gaze as you pinch my nipples and smirk at me. "we're not done yet, my slut." you keep playing with my nipples with one hand while the other drifts down and under my skirt again. "pick a tag," you tell me, and begin to finger me. you're much rougher this time, bringing me to edge and barely letting me catch my breath before starting again. without my arms free to brace myself, i'm shaking just from trying to stay upright. the only thing keeping my knees locked in place is the knowledge that if i fall to the floor, you'll leave me there to writhe and beg. i shake my head to try to clear some of the cobwebs and pick a dog tag, but before i can speak you stop playing with my breasts and slip your fingers in my mouth. i can see you laughing at me when i can't hold back the whine, but i quickly forget about the dog tag anyway. you do this a few more times, until my whines are turning to screams. the next time you remove your fingers from my mouth to start the cycle again, i immediately shout, "the heart! the heart tag, please, please, the heart!" you wipe both hands clean on my breasts, giving my nipples an extra tug when you do it. i don't remember it happening, but at some point in this you pulled them out of my bra so now they're fully on display. when you're done, you reach out to grab the tag, then push me toward the cashier. i look down, not wanting to see what this man thinks of me right now, but you push me right up to the counter. "tell him what to engrave on the tag, baby." i whimper but don't speak, and your hand comes down hard on my ass. "daddy's little slut," i say in a very small voice. another slap. i say it again louder. another slap. louder, and with a please. another. another. another. you stop after i shout, "please, please engrave my dog tag to say daddy's little slut!" you rub your hand over my sore ass then push me forward, until i'm bent over the counter with my legs spread. "miss?" the clerk asks, causing me to instinctively look up at him. he grins. "can you spell that for me?" each letter comes with another hard slap on my ass. after "daddy's" and "little" you finger me again roughly, bringing me to the edge. after the second edge, i brace myself for another slap, but it doesn't come. instead you grab me and turn me so i'm on my back and spread my legs wide. "you can cum when you're finished, is that clear slut?" i gulp. "yes sir." your hand comes down hard on my oversensitive pussy. S. L. U. on the T, your slap lands directly on my clit and i scream as the orgasm overtakes me.

people are always asking what my kink or my fantasy is  I want a who enjoy the play as much as I do. one who not afraid to use a girl for the same needs she has as well. one who can Master himself but also Master her, omg he a shadow daddy! I want a Master who would take my big alien dildo and shoved it up my cunt or mak me wear a plug in my ass. then leave me there plug all day while he does his own thing. sometimes he uses me, sometimes he play with me and sometimes he leaves me to my own to get lost in my service to him in my mind.  I want to be his play thing so I can be his captive slave girl who he use as his play thing and doll. dress up in his leather,rope and may other things!  those who want to put me in leather and rope, stuff my cunt with a dildo and make me ride it and orgasm for hours  and these who want to hook my nipples to a milking machine and make me ride a dildo till Im a puddle  get moved to the front of the line  I like these creators and want to recreate this with you - they all on fetlife  _Inquisition_ deargreyh0und _TheDollMaker_ The_Woodsman_ GreedyGod I honestly have little interest in your unless you take the time to go look at these creators pictures and videos. I know what I want and how I want it and I need that 24/7.   

It’s no surprise that I have been on this site Collarme now called CollarSpace a long time since Two thousand and eight and I am becoming impatient. I try to be as transparent as possible whenever the time arises. I have been lied to way too much to do anything less than be honest and hopefully get the respect of honestly back. I have been lied to most of my life about big and small things As my birth mom would say I HATE LIES especially volunteer lies I felt that in my soul when she said that. Willingness to communicate clearly is easier said than done I have to say I put my all in everything I do and say and for many of these sites that I am on I feel like guys only see or want what they see or want and dont actually want the real deal just the fantasy of it all. I would love to find a balance between the vanilla and the S/M world. I feel like I am a very direct and transparent person but maybe I am not? I am very tired of expending resources, time, and energy on frivolous endeavors. SIGH!!!

You want a chase And I'll give you one baby Two can play this game I'll have you coming back  Make me scream your name in bed And afterwards I'll push you away Then I'll sing songs to you and dance for you But you mustn't touch I'll have you crawling back to mate But oh why should I cave in I'll tell you no  And smile as I walk away Want a chase I'll give you one Remember you put me on that pedestal  Now I'll have you begging you didn't Two can play the game giving a way for a chase I'll be your prey in this scene But can you catch me or will I get away?  Darling your making me dangerous like you Touch me and it will burn  Just like you did to me After all we dance in the flames The pain sounds like your name Now I have you begging me asking if you're going insane    

Due to medical reasons and the fact I have loss the use of my left arm I am removing myself from the market, those that wish to keep in contact can message me by text. It been real and it been fun but can't say it's been real fun. This account will be deleted in two days

The sunset is rapidi will miss the intensityof blazing orange and rusted yellow.Hints of glorious red and hued pinksdissapearing; retreating fast the orb.Just one blink and half a century waslost behind the soft slopes of purple hills.Now, only a few clouds speak of whatwas once here. Their imperfect shapesreflecting a blaze of fire that hides in silence.i cannot handle Your silence.i will faithfully wait for You to rise and return.~ dirtydarling

A Valentine Blessing for kinky people or A Valentine’s Blessing for the Deliciously DevotedMay this gathering be wrapped in trustand warmed by the courage it takes to be seen.May your yes be enthusiastic,your no be honored without question,and your maybe be held gently until it knows its name.On this Valentine’s night,may desire be curious and kind,may power be exchanged with care,and may every touch—whether soft or sharp—be given with intention and received with joy.Bless the hands that tie and the hands that yield,the hearts that lead and the hearts that follow,and the beautiful truth that roles may changebut respect never does.May safewords be remembered,boundaries be celebrated,and laughter find its way into even the most serious scenes.And when the play is done,may aftercare be sweet,may water be plentiful,and may everyone leave feeling fuller—not just in body, but in spirit.On this Valentine’s Day,may love show up in all its forms:romantic, chosen, perverse, tender, fierce.May you be desired,may you be cherished,and may you always knowthat wanting and being wantedis a kind of sacred magic.So blessed be the ropes, the rules, the roses,and every brave, beating heart in this room. 💘

The Weight of Three Minutes - An Erotic Short Story  The marble is cold under your knees. I designed the room precisely for this quality of cold, for the way it travels upward through a kneeling body and reminds it, without a word from me, of exactly where it is. The morning light moves across your bowed shoulders and finds the faint lines on your skin, my lines, exactly where I left them.   You hold the cup steady. I will give you that.   My fingers brush yours as I take it. A conductivity test, reading the current of you through brief contact. You do not tremble. Good. I bring the rim to my lips.   The first sip tells me everything. The base notes are correct, the Darjeeling first flush I require. But beneath it, the steep is wrong. Three minutes would have given me what I require. You gave me four. The tannins have opened in a way they should not have been permitted to, and the result is an astringency that sits at the back of the palate like a small, deliberate insult.   You know. You felt it before I tasted it, felt the error in the air the way a barometer feels weather. Your world has narrowed to the space between my slippered feet. Good. That is where it belongs.   I say your name. Just that.   "Yes, Goddess." The word hangs in the quiet room like an offering I have not yet decided to accept.   "The specifications are precise and they are not suggestions. Water temperature ninety degrees. Steep time three minutes. Measured. Not estimated. Not felt."   "Yes, Goddess."   "Explain the deviation."   The muscle in your jaw tightens. I catalog it. "The leaves were newer stock. I thought a longer steep would develop the flavor more fully. Bring out the muscatel notes you prefer."   "You thought."   I begin to circle you. Slowly. I am never in any hurry. I place my gaze on the back of your neck with the deliberate weight of something being pressed into soft material.   "You introduced variables. You assumed. Perfection does not accommodate feeling. The muscatel note I prefer is arrived at in precisely three minutes. Not your interpretation. Not your instinct. Three minutes, measured, as specified."   "A flaw in the cup is a flaw in the man. Do you doubt my parameters?"   "No, Goddess. Never."   But your fingers curl inward where they rest on your thighs. I see it. I note it. Nothing is too small to matter.   "Stand."   You rise in one fluid motion, taller than me, broader. And yet you make yourself smaller in my presence, as you have learned to do. It is one of the things I have built in you that I find most satisfying.   "Look at me."   Your eyes meet mine. The familiar desperate focus is there, the terror of demotion. But beneath it, a flicker. Not defiance. Something more interesting. A spark of independent thought, alive and un-extinguished.   My fingers, cool and precise, trace the line of your jaw. The shudder that moves through you is full-bodied and involuntary. Your breath catches.   "The grade for today's service is pending. We will see if the rest of your performance can correct the imbalance."   I turn toward the lounge. "Follow."   Two steps behind, as trained. The cage sits in its corner, black steel and clean lines, always the outer boundary of the visible world.   "Kneel here. You will remain until I have need of you. You will not speak. You will not move. You will contemplate the difference between three minutes and four."   You sink into position. Back straight, hands on thighs, head at the precise angle I have trained into you. You are, when you are like this, a beautiful object. I have made you that.   Not a muscle moves. Your breathing barely disturbs the air. Every resource of you pointed at the single task of being still enough to please me.   And yet. You chose to deviate. You chose to trust your own palate over my doctrine.   Something uncoils in my attention. Not anger. Sharper. Interest, which in my world is rarer and more dangerous than fury.   I say your name again, soft as a petal released from a great height.   Your eyes lift instantly.   "Come here."   You cross the distance on your knees and stop before me, your face level with my lap. You wait with your entire body.   "The grade is failing. A failing slave is placed in the cage. Denied touch. Denied sight."   Your throat moves. "Yes, Goddess."   "Do you wish to be caged?"   "I wish only what you wish, Goddess."   "That is not an answer. It is a recitation. The one who extended the steep had a wish. What was it?"   "I wished for it to be perfect for you. Not just correct. Perfect. The new harvest felt like an opportunity and I wanted to find something in it that you had not yet tasted."   There it is. Your ambition, layered over my specifications, believing itself generous.   I slide my fingers into your hair and close them. The breath that leaves you is unsteady. Your eyes close. "Your wish introduced error," I say, close to your ear. "Your personal pursuit of my pleasure contaminated the delivery of it. That is the failure."   I pull your head back. Your eyes open, wide, stripped of calculation. Simply present. Exposed. Looking up at the only person in your world who matters.   "And yet," my thumb finds the pulse hammering in your throat, "it was a beautiful ambition."   I release you.   "The grade remains failing. But the correction will be hands-on."   "Remove your shirt."

pet store (1/3) you lead me into the pet store quietly, just smiling to yourself when i shiver from the cool air on my already wet pussy. you hold my hand as we walk through the store, but move to stand behind me when we get to the collars and leashes. you place your hands possessively on my hips and pull me back against you, enjoying the view down my top as my breathing speeds up. "it's time, baby," you whisper into my ear. "what kind of collar do you want?" i hadn't thought about helping you choose my collar. i had half expected to wake up one morning to find it around my throat, if i was being honest, and i was overwhelmed by the choices. i shake my head, and you feel the moment my trembling shifts from arousal to panic. you pull me closer and kiss the side of my throat. "you're not choosing," you remind me. "you're helping me, but this is not up to you." your voice is sterner now and i sink into it, letting you steady me. "clear?" "yes sir." you kiss me on the throat again, in a spot i know will soon be covered up by your collar, and i moan softly. "good girl," you murmur before letting me go. i watch you walk up the aisle before moving to the collection of leather collars. i lose track of you while i look through the rows of collars, touching the cool leather, feeling how supple or stiff they are, shaking them to see how much noise they make and how heavy they are. i turn back to you as you walk back down the aisle toward me. you pick up one of the training collars, a metal one with spikes on the inside, and hold it up, jangling it to make sure you have my attention. my breathing speeds up again and you laugh a little when i squeeze my thighs together and reach out to the wall of collars to steady myself, but you put it back on its shelf. "maybe next time," you tell me, and finish walking back to me. you reach out to touch the collar i was looking at with one hand, and the other slips under my skirt, trailing up and down the slickness coating my inner thighs. you trace those wet fingers over my lips and i greedily suck them into my mouth, moaning a little at the taste of us. you start to pull your hand away but i hold onto it, making sure i haven't missed anything and rocking my hips in time to my sucking. you laugh at my whine when you finally remove your fingers from my mouth. "such a desperate little thing you are, babe." you move to stand behind me, trapping me between your body and the wall of collars. "this one?" i don't know how your voice is completely steady, considering you have one hand under my skirt again and i can feel you getting hard. when you first brush against my pussy lips, i look around, making sure we're alone. "eyes ahead," you tell me, your fingers stroking up and down my wet cunt. "tell me why this one." "it's pretty. i like--" i stop, ging when your fingers find my clit. a light pinch from you brings me back. "i like that it looks delicate, light pink with little gold hearts." i'm trying to grind against your fingers now, but you keep them far enough away that i can't get any relief. "and?" i can't help the whine that escapes me when you slip two fingers inside me. i rock against your fingers as i continue. "i like the matching bracelet. i can wear that whenever i can't wear the actual collar. so i'm always collared. always yours." i barely squeeze it out before you're pulling your hand out from under my skirt and i whine louder. you step back and watch me as you bring your fingers to your mouth. i'm still braced against the wall, eyes closed, hips rocking against nothing. there's a trail of pussy juice dripping down my legs and i can't hold back all the little moans and whimpers. "look at you, my pathetic, wanton slut. we haven't even looked at leashes yet."

NO male doms = In case folks on here have forgotten I am solely interested in Slaves and Submissives so only reply to that demographic.  Club Pedestal , Cruel Huntress Hunt and Club o&I in Kent are the three fetish venues I talk to Dominant Women as well. The Mawney munch I talk to everyone with good manners who are pleasant to laugh with for the evening.  All Goals Done = I have had a week where I planned to ease up my workload. Key pieces are now complete so I will take my week end a little slower. SERVICE SUBS = Today is cooler so I may think about opening up applications for service subs to cut my lawn - though a first few meets at the Mawney are key prior to me accepting that person.

Since I have been away for a while, have a writing entry!   There is just something about women’s eyes. The way that you can look down into them and see the arousal. You watch, never losing eye contact, your breath mingling with one another. You watch her eyes squint and then light up when your skin touches hers, the space between your bodies getting smaller. The way the hue hazes over with eagerness and need. The underlining knowledge that she craves it, the roughness, the love, the caring about her, just someone being obsessed with her, even if for those next moments spent together. The furrow in between her pretty eyes when she’s trying to concentrate on listening, the deeper furrow when she’s angry for not being allowed a release, the begging and pleading in the corners of such a beautiful color. A tornado of frustration in the depths of the pupil that send fire to her iris when she’s pinned against the surface below her, the teasing ensues. Her words match the storm you’re staring into, wanting all of the earth shattering pleasure those pretty eyes are about to give you. As her pretty mouth fixes for another vulgar attitude, you see the fireworks on the brim of exploding behind that tornado, her head falling back, eyes squeezed tight, urging the leg shivering to take over her body. Your fingers dance along her body, your mouth cascades her skin as those pretty eyes of hers start to well with the happiest of tears. Picking her head up, you let the sea of waves in her happiness wash over you, never losing eye contact as you use your tongue to clean your mess of a woman with such beautiful eyes.

I used to love whoring and slutting around. There wasn’t anything quite as fun as finding a new cock to play with – I was always thrilled at how fast I could get a guy hard and how hard I could make him cum with my mouth or my cunt. Fucking was the only time I felt genuinely confident in my 20’s. A lot of that came down to Kevin. I belonged to Kevin (on and off) for over a decade. He was my first D/s relationship, and his primary focus and kink was whoring me out. He loved having me be an absolute filthy fucking slut for him, and the confidence and power I felt in that role over time was incredible. Through him, I learned how much power a woman could have in herself by submitting to her own sexual desires. It wasn’t just that Kevin loved having me be a whore (as much as I wanted to think that was my sole purpose at the time), I fucking loved sex and I loved the attention and desire I felt from men in those moments. I loved the strength and confidence I gained from their desire; it was a strength that lasted a lot longer than the encounter did, that’s for damn sure. I didn’t need their reassurance or their attention after. I didn’t need them after, period. I got my reassurance from Kevin. His praise and enthusiasm for my behavior reinforced the strength that I gained and reinforced my confidence in my skills. I didn’t have shit for confidence walking down the street or walking into a party to be around strangers, but the second I was presented with a hard cock, it was Game. Fucking. On. THAT I knew I could handle with perfect confidence, grace and skill. And I fucking relished every moan, groan, sigh, gasp, and trembling muscle from the man I was with. In my 20’s, I was somewhere around 340-375lbs. I didn’t really get on a scale very often, so I honestly don’t know how much I actually weighed. What I do know, is that it was Kevin who taught me that my size didn’t preclude me from being desirable. When I moved to “the big city”, I had the opportunity for basically unlimited male attention, which was a first for me, having grown up in the middle of nowhere Nebraska. Kevin encouraged this exploration, but also gave me very distinct rules and boundaries (he’d more than learned by that time that I had no idea how to establish, let alone maintain, my own boundaries). He made me go to Planned Parenthood to get my birth control shot. He “gave me permission” to tell guys to fuck off if they didn’t want to use protection for sex; I could ‘blame my Owner’ if they were at all hesitant. Having all this attention from all these different guys, never having to go more than a few days without sex if I didn’t want to, god – it was fucking incredible! And in the background, was Kevin, telling me what a fantastic little whore I was. When it came to being with Kevin, it was an even bigger reassurance. He told me once, during a moment of extreme insecurity, “I don’t give a shit what you look like, Lisa. What I care about is control.” I knew I could give him that better than anyone, the question was, did he actually mean it? The short answer is, abso-fucking-lutely. When my stunning beauty of a roommate (who’d played with Kevin over the phone and online multiple times) joined us one night, I figured it was going to be game over for us. She was a knock-out compared to me and way better at everything sexual than I could ever dream of being. He was choking her with his dick and she freaked because he wouldn’t let her control the pace or how far down her throat his cock went. She jumped up and took off out of the room to go smoke a bowl and calm down and he called me over. Despite her naked self standing mere feet from him, perky ass and tits on full display, he was totally soft. The second I put his dick in my mouth and let him choke me to his hearts content, he was rock hard and having the time of his life. She eventually came back to the kitchen table where he was sitting while I sucked him off, and I remember feeling an unbelievable surge of pride as he praised me, telling me what a good girl I was, how much he loved choking me and making me cry, how pretty my tears were. And when he finally came in my mouth, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that for some men…it really is all about control. And I was officially hooked. That was all I wanted from that moment on, and to a large extent, it’s still all I want. Especially when it comes to any type of D/s dynamic. I don’t fucking care about the sex, whips or chains…I want the man who gets rock hard simply because I love to obey, to give up as much control as possible. I want the guy who gets off leaving me a list of chores to do in the morning and is way more turned on by me having completed the whole list plus some, then having to “punish me” because I failed to do those tasks. I want the guy who’s dick goes soft because a girl tells him ‘no’ (and he would never dream of pushing her beyond that ‘no’), but he gets hard as steel, instantly, because where someone else says ‘no’, I say ‘yes please and thank you’. I don’t need gymnastics and props…they can’t do anything nearly as good as a hand in my hair and a deep voice whispering in my ear.

Questions. So many questions. Yet the answers are spares.   He is eager to absorb her wants, desires, needs and emotional bounty hidden inside her.   What makes her tick?  What motivates you to please?  Where is it she will finally call home?  The place where she trusts and lives with every fiber of herself at peace.  Where her soul feels like it's found its long lost companionship in order to make it feel complete. A place where safety, security, loving protection and care are a given and never have to be second guessed.  Those emotions buried so deep within her longing to be shared yet hidden, guarded so well behind the many scars. Her eyes are telling and the roadmap to her life. Filled with betrayal, abandonment, pain and hurt. Yet there is a tiny glimmer still there. One that could easily be overlooked if one were distracted not looking for it. To the untrained eye, which is distracted  by the shell the real being resides in, only beauty is noticed. Missed are the healing needs that require his attention the most. No, its more than a need! It is a desired necessity! One that needs trust and love to be shown before he can hope to heal it. "Allow me a few glimpses inside you please." He whispers. The list of questions is long. The answers provide insight and are lessons to absorb.   Time is not his ally it is his foe. Yet time is what is needed the most. Oh my dear. Why do your answers allude me so? Open the door just a crack and allow my warming light to take a glimpse.

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.

Her hands held the pen, the black ink swirling across the page as she signed the contract. The last time she would ever see her real name, the last time her date of birth would even matter. She paused, holding her breath in her shuttering lungs… and as the seconds ticked by like years, her lung’s released and the chime rang. The electronic paper instantly sealed the contact and the encryption code saved to the nanochip.A metal arm came from the wall, and in a quick second her eyes blinked, and the chip engaged.She was still her, her personality, her smile, her spirit, but her body now belonged to the New American Order. She fought as long as she could, the price of housing and food had risen so high she was living so poorly. They had removed all unchipped teachers long ago, uncipped could not work jobs that paid in NAObitcoin. She could only get paid in paper money which only unchipped could spend. The black market was dangerous and she knew the consequences.The government now allowed people to elect to be chipped as household wifes. They would live a normal life, raising children, and making their families a unit, and thus rebuilding the community which once made this nation strong.She was a beautiful women, her long auburn hair landed in near perfect curls, her beautiful eyes could sink the universe. She held a PHD and would make an excellent home school teacher for a man who had a large family.She sat in the chair, gripping the skirt if the dress, and staring at the wall. A screen came on and the host started talking.“Gentlemen of the NAO tonight we have a wonderful selection of wives. They have all signed in willingly so there are no confinement rules for these women. Lets get started.”The door to her room opened and she stepped in to the hall. She took the step and closed her eyes, her sister got a nice man, they are so happy. She was going to have the same, she knew it.“First we have this beautiful older model, she will bare no children, but she is sweet and caring. She has a good voice, pleasant demeanor, tested level 9/10 in cooking and house keeping, she scored 10/10 in intellect. As you know gentlemen she will be tested for sexual abilities, her current rating in the outside was 4.6 so definitely above average but those chipless have no idea.”The door opened at the end of the hall, she walked quickly to the door, she had watched this millions if times on the tele. It had become required viewing but the poor only got to see the limited view, they put so many propaganda commercials in the show it was hard to really understand what was happening.The men in the room were all high class government officials, they were all men who had created the order, and their first wives were probably in work camps, or dead from the war. The rebels attacked their homes and wives, so many ran to other countries at the end of the war. Now other countries were turned to watch as NAO rebuilt and became the world leader of technology and education.The days of the starving poor was over, well as long as you chipped up. If you were a normie your life didnt change except you had no rent, no bills, but you worked for the government and ate what the government gave you. It wasnt a horrible life, you married in your class, and lived happy. The problem came with people like her. She was smart enough to live with out the system, pretty enough to be a wife, refined and well skilled, and her date rating put her on their radar.She only signed up to find a match, she was sick of her lonely home. They just started letting nochips on the site and she knew better!When her rating hit its highest the rent in her area went up, the power for vehicles tripled, food prices doubled. She got a speeding ticket and that was it… she couldn’t pay her rent… and there Lacy was, to offer her a spot in the highest ranked tv show in the History of the planet. It was required watching in the NAO and many international countries allowed their citizens to watch and participate, part of the new Jenniva treaty.So here she was, the room was black, the ceiling back, the bed and everything painted in the darkest black. She stepped to the door and the door behind her shut.“Remove your dress and precede to the bed.” The audience wouldnt see anything, its black, there is no light, but there are speakers and they can hear everything. She pulled her dress off and sat it next to the bed. She was stark naked, her large breasts we’re hanging from her, her body shivered as her hair tickled her back. She crouched down and lay down on the bed.“Place your right hand on the board. Place your left hand on the left board.” Her arms moved and then click the magnet locked, they had implanted her with magnets and chips throughout her body. The lights clicked off. For a second she could hear movement and then the headphones clapped down on her head. Hands ran down her body and the audience cheered as the meter stared to rise. His hands found her face and he pulled her in to a kiss, his tongue darting about and dancing with hers. His other hand found her pussy, and he clamped his hand down. The meter went to 1.0, and then his finger slipped inside, her body wetting for him, his head tilted, and his eyes flickered in to the darkness. “Ohhh a fun one.” He whispered in her ear. His fingers began working her clit and her body responded, he rubbed and twisted and pulled as she moaned loudly. Her chip holding her back from orgasm but leaving her right in the edge. He paused, and his mouth found her breasts which made her moan loudly again as the meter kept rising 3.0,4.0,7.0. The crowd started to whisper as no one had ever gotten higher than 8 and she was just starting. He pressed his cock against her, his large head pushing hard, as her rating went higher, and then he pushed in, hard. His huge cock filling her and pushing hard against the top of her as she moaned loudly, the harder he pushed the rougher he got the more she moaned and flooded him. Her hips moved with his, drawing him deeper, harder as she ground herself in to him. He reached up and put his hand on her neck, the default for allowing an orgasm during testing and she came. Her vagina pressed in on him pulsating hard as he continued to pound her, she came hard over and over moaning loudly. He stopped for a second and stepped back. “Turn over.” Her wrists released, and she flipped over, she had not had sex like this in years, she forgot it was anything other than a glorious night of love. He gripped her hips and pressed his cock in to her ass, as she arched her back and moaned out loudly. He started to work her ass slowly and then harder and harder pounding her hard. She shook as his hips hit her ass with a force she couldn’t believe. It almost took her breath how hard and good it felt. He reached up and grabbed her hair and held it tight slamming in to her harder, his other hand found her clit. He wouldn’t let her cum, he had decided now she didn't get anymore, they were all his. He pressed harder and harder, her body sweating and her breathing rough he continued, as he came he slapped her ass hard. The number blinked on the wall 8.7 highest first test score. The room blacked.. the commercial started, and men whispered among themselves.“I think i might have enough to purchasing that one.” A tall dark gentleman spoke. The room fell silent, as a bell rang which meant a second test was requested. The testing fee was not cheep, but someone needed to know her limit.Two men with night vision glasses came in and helped her straddle a round saw horse, her leg magnet locking in place, her wrists, she could no longer move.“Its time for the maximum orgasm test!” The host spoke in an over excited tone, his own body reacting to the sights. The lights turned off and above her head a digital board read 4.“According to the chip she has already orgasmed 4 times, remember folks the highest score ever is 70, in 2hours and 10 min. Once we start this test we will continue the auction.She was cold, but as soon as she felt it the sensation went away, the chip overriding the warning. A buzz starts in the background and her body starts to prepare, the sound of a milker clicking away behind her also made her body react. The buzz and tick tick take her in to a trance, and her body relaxes. He inserts a large 1 inch dildo inside if her, he clips the vibratior clamp on her clit as she lets out a loud yelp.“Mute her please.” The host says quietly. The man hits a button and her moans quiet and she starts to orgasm.“Oh no not yet kitten we aren’t even there yet.” His deep voice echoed in her ear, as thr command found its protocol, her body slowed the orgasm, and then liquid squirts on her ass as he presses in and works a large plug, its vibrations start to sink with the dildo. Her entire body clamped down, which only made the sensation stronger as she orgasmed hard. "oh yeah I should… release." as the word echoed in her empty mind the orgasms rushed in..10,11,12,13… her biometric system counting orgasm after orgasm.He smiled in to the dark as the goat milker cups attached to each breast and turned on low, then higher and higher, as it sucked her 38h breasts deep in to the glass, 22,23,26.He stood there watching with his night vision , his prize will be a percentage of her price, 30,31,32. He grabbed a flogger and whipped her ass hard, a flood of orgasms came in 41,43,44. He spanked her again, 50."Gentlemen our special purchase has hit 50! can you believe that? alright next is 35, rating 4.5, cooking 6 but comes with optional upgrade option, overall sex rating 8 with a maximum daily use 3 times… the bidding starts at her debt to the NAO of 100 Naobitcoins. Let the game begin. " the host pointed to the screen where bids were flying in from all over the world."The timer has started… bids are up to 2,000… 2,300… 3,2,1. 2,600 NAOBC… And your name is Cynthia. congratulations and may you live in the peace of your submission. " the audience said along with the host."now were are we at with our live test… 67 in 30 min, 68,69,70! she beat the record! She sucked breath in to her lungs as her body just kept going, she was dripping with sweat, her body begging for help, her moans muted her voice box turned off as she cameover and over. The machines clicked off her body shivered, and the chip took over, her hands and legs released as she stood, her brain not fully functioning. She walked to the bed her legs shaking and pulled her dress on. A door opened to a bathroom, an entire crew of beauty and glamor experts stood there. They had one commercial break to make her look fresh. She was pushed in to a shower the water spraying up and down on her in all directions. The water turned to warm air as she stepped from the shower dry and clean, the stockings slid on and clipped in to a pink and black garter. the corset top clipped in to place and then tied tight. her dress was slid over her head, and tightened down. Her hair was twisted and twirled and her makeup went on fast, a blinking light told the crew it was time.“Gentlemen it is time. How much would you pay? The time starts now…..” the     

The picture for the following scene deion next week shows the soles of My shoes and a call bell in My hand.   I have just returned from walking on a very popular board walk along puget sound. The only problem with this wonderful stroll is the filth left by dogs on the boards.    People love to walk their dogs where they can also enjoy the vista of sound and mountains. However, people do not love to clean up after their animals.    Now I am home. As anyone can see I have rang the hand bell to call my slave.    Does the reader consider itself a slave? If so, the above view is what it gets when it answers the bell on its knees as it should. Looking up it sees the soles of my shoes.    Tell Me, slave, how does it feel looking up?    Is it hesitant? 

Let's get Cosmic Cunt out in the open, shall we? Cosmic -     a.  of or relating to the cosmos, the extraterrestrial vastness, or the universe in contrast to the earth alone.  b.  of, relating to, or concerned with abstract spiritual or metaphysical ideas.   characterized by greatness especaillyin context, intensity or comprehensiveness.     Cunt - the femle genital organs.  Cunny, Cunty, What a beautiful cunt is she!  I've reclaimed the word!  My cunt is lovely!  lol  A Brief History of the C-Word - The Establishment.  The etymology of cunt:  a very delicate monosyllable. Cunt - Old English.  

I can't sleep, it warm and I'm horny, which reminds me and makes it harder to sleep... thinking about a really hot time I had with an old friend of mine.  She new I was a slut, and that I was into kink.  I was staying at her place one time.  It was a hot night and I was laid awake, and I heard her get up.  Then my room door opened and she came and laid next to me. She said she was awake because of the heat and feeling horny.  Sh e then whispered in my ear, saying "I know how kinky you are, are you a slut for anyone, even me" She pulled the covers off me and could see I was getting stiff, and said "I guess so". She then held my cock, and told me she was thinking of telling her female friends about me, what I was, and asked me if it turned me knowing that they'd know. Of course my cock got hard, and she said "well I guess that's my answer" She made me flip over, and then just rested her arm out underneath me, making a grip with her hand, she then told me to fuck her hand. I said instinctively "yes Miss" and proceeded to slip my throbbing cock into her hand and stated to fuck her hand.  With her other hand, she began to play with herself, it didn't take long for her to make herself cum, after which she just opened her hand and said  "goog slut, now I'm going to bed, no touching until I say" She kissed my cheek, and promptly left. It took me a while to get to sleep with my cock throbbing and the heat.

Another ridiculous story you just can't make up, this really happened last night. So. Like most people, I drive to and from work five days a week. I take the same route. I'm not great with directions so while I know a few other ways to get there in theory, I stick with this one way. I had made plans to go out with a colleague friend last night and we were going to meet back at work where she would pick me up and she would do the driving. Perfect. I get back to work, we go out, have a great time, she drops me off at my car at 11:45. I head home the usual way, it should take about a half hour. Only there's construction and an accident and it's jammed beyond belief. So I follow a couple of cars who got off, thinking eh, I'll pick up another road I'm familiar with. And I do. I know this road goes out in my direction so I can start there and find a cross street along the way. So I'm driving. And I'm driving. And it's now well past the thirty minute mark, I don't recognize anything, there are no lights on the road, and I have no cell service to pull up a map. But alright, I have half a tank of gas and I can figure this out. And I keep driving. For over an hour. I get to a road that I know leads me home. But which way? I make a choice and fully commit, because another half hour goes by and I still have no idea where I am, still no lights, still no cell service. I see deer and can confirm the saying about deer in headlights freezing up is accurate. Eventually I realized I made the wrong directional choice and turned around, find my way home. At 1:57. When I say I am directionally challenged, clearly I'm not kidding. 

Oh I wish I had a slave driver here, A useful chatty person near, Drives me to key appointments with notice set, Keen to be useful to me I bet. When I choose club play nights off we fly, Whips on his derriere produce mutual joy sighs.   Though now pleasant chat from the states only shows, Useless in practical life we all know. And I am a practical person through and through, So where are you Slave driver you not around tinges me blue.   Instead I am busy with study and skill, Developing life knowledge so my mind advances up a holl, Knowledge is power so I consume mine, Growing as a person through time.

"50 Shades Of Wanabees" **Will finish writing this and add the conclusion sometime in the near future. Unfortunately, work and life get in the way of passion at times not affording us the opportunity to delve into it full time. That and writing this on a cell phone is a daunting task. Read enjoy, educate, comment. It's all good. I've been involved in this lifestyle for going on 40yrs. It is a very special kind of relationship and bond that takes lots of commitment, EFFECTIVE communication, understanding and most of all....TRUST. This type of life is not for everyone especially those "vanilla relationshippers" who don't understand it or know anything about it other than the stereotype information they heard or read. It is a multi-layer, multi-dimensional universe of its own that is compromised of many of its own ecosystems. It's as vast as the many kinks and fetishes that people can imagine and transform into being on the physical plane. Although we try to categorize the many desires so we can label them and sort them in order to find fellow kinksters. It is a task less job of who done it. No different than labeling colors. To the right we have orange. To the left we have red. But what happens when we have a color that falls in between? It doesn't necessarily look orange or red on of its own. Do we call "rednge" and make it its own category so it sits their all alone? Obviously not! But yet another hybrid is born expanding our array of colors once again. Adding to the illustrious rainbow of a way of life for many. It is no different than Mother nature's evolution of our planet and its inhabitants. Constantly in motion. Growing, changing, EVOLVING. How wonderful. HOWEVER, something almost always comes along to try and hamper the growth. It resonates through the community touching and infecting all that live in it. It betrays us all and infaspects the very things that make it so unique. Trust quickly dissipates as the intrusion spreads like wildfire burning all that fall within its path. Leaving behind scorched emotions, lack of trust or belief. Like that fiery fire is what I call, "50 Shades Of Wannabees". It's compromised of those who watched or read this crossover book or movie of a kinkier version of "Pretty Woman". A rich man who takes over a lower class woman's mind and bends her into his submissive. Suddenly like the herd of Buffalo, that once roamed this nation, a stampede of kinksters charge into our community. There is no understanding that there is SO much more than physical ownership of a sub or slave. It is a psychological game of Stratego that has been played by the partners gaining command of the others headspace. That headspace contains all the emotions, physical desires, dreams, fantasies, psychological manifestations of childhood yearnings, etc. All rolled up into one area waiting to be examined and absorbed by someone who can understand them and nurture them to fruition. A Bach of the composer world who takes them and turns them into beautiful music that all can hear. The manifestation of the hidden minds collective emotional desires and needs now controlling the physical form like the captive they once were. With this weapon in hand the dominant hunter has captured his prey. He cages and controls it by holding its heart tightly against his chest in his protective arms so no harm will come to it. The chase was long. The chase took many paths that one had to avoid straying from and getting lost. So when finally navigating it and finding that pot of gold at the end it is treasured as the greatest possession owned. It's capture was earned and not stolen. I can't help but look at these wannabees as nothing more than and invasive army made up of decisions or narcissistic grandure. Their need to feel powerful and fulfill their cardinal desires of physical pleasure and loneliness taken by force. No understanding of how the lifestyle works because they have no desire to learn it. Whips spinning in the air, shouts of demands and orders barking, physically overpowering of their prey is all they understand. I am a MASTER they proclaim to all as they dangle bait in hopes of luring a potential pacifistic creature. No you are NOT A MASTER, the knowledgeable citizens say. YOU ARE JUST A BULLY! A bully fueled by your narcissistic desires of ownership over another that you expect to force to serve you for your pleasure and your pleasure alone. You and your wants are all that matters and the emotions of the server are forced into exile.

Chasing the Dragon All she has left of her drug is dominant lovers..her dominant protective side keeps her from submitting to them; she tends to walk through life as a switch hiding her needy submissive side because the ones that she meets are disposable to her, and she tops them from the bottom gauging her danger in every encounter. They are always sexually excited, which causes a frenzy inside of them as they try to navigate her confusing waters. She looks for more than sex, but rough sex can help her feel a slice of submission until he goes too far or tries to be a Master, Dom, or Daddy (which can never happen on a first encounter) unless he shows physical restraint digging into what makes her who she is, winning her mind because sex is great but fleeting. She loves a physical touch, and her body moves to every touch, but there is a difference between someone playing a song and mastering an instrument. The one she looks for can pluck the string, keep the melody and be psychologically intense. Sometimes using her against herself to mentally catch her and explain sides of herself hidden only to be discovered in the ultimate goal to own her. It has to be more than a casual encounter; she will play, but she will remain guarded and in charge topping from the bottom chasing the Dragon until the dragon devours her......

Here’s a sensual, evocative poem that embraces intimacy and desire. **Kindling** Come closer, and let silence speak,   In whispers soft, in touches sleek.   Your breath against my skin, so near,   Ignites the spark, dissolves the fear.   Fingertips trace in whispered lines,   Mapping secrets, as bodies entwine.   With each soft touch, we come undone,   Bound together 'til night is spun.   In this dark world, we’ve found our place,   Time slows to linger, breathes to taste.   The ache of longing fades to peace,   In arms that hold and will not cease.   We meet like fire, we burn like sun,   Two shadows melding, joined as one.   Lost in rhythm, a timeless flight,   In whispered heat, through endless night.    

Chauffeur wanted for tomorrow night 25/03/2023. You will be required to pick ME up from IG1 by 8.30pm and drop ME off at E11.  

The artist Nas once said that life is a bitch and then you die. I agree wholeheartedly. That is why I try to live life to the fullest everyday. Several things occured over the past two years that have significantly changed my life. Im not writing this post to complain about those things but to reflect on how those things have influenced my choice to fulfill a long time fantasy that up until this point in my life seemed unrealistic.  Tomorrow, I have a realtor coming to my home to list it for sale. I will be selling my home and moving in with my submissive so that we can build our 1950s household. She lives in Philadelphia so this will not only be an opportunity to live out my fantasy but it will also be a fresh start in a new city. The circumstances that created this possibility were not desireable but I am happy that they pushed me towards fulfilling one of my long time fantasies.  Life is a bitch and then you die.....so you may as well make the best of it while you can.    

Things I pay attention too I read profiles and journals to see what you are about.  What is your name? Names are telling. Is it something about a fetish, kink, or what you are focused on?   I don't care what your fetish or interest list is unless it is your dislikes or hate. Those are mostly the truth and not what you are focused on.  Where do you live?   How far away are you from me?  What I want you to know If you message me from out of state or anywhere further than 50 ish miles away and tell me you want to serve, I want you to know.  You will come to me to meet in California at a local munch at your own expense. After all, you chose to message me and offer to serve.  If you say you will relocate, know you should not assume you will live with me. For this to happen, I would have to know you very well, and the connection would have to be there. This takes time.  I go out into my community to attend munches, play parties, or significant events. I meet like-minded people and meet people who become my friends.  I expect my submissive to do the same and attend to me.  I do not engage in the bedroom, only D/s or M/s.  This is not what I consider being submissive, nor what I am looking for.  I am not interested in sexual services with anyone except the person with whom I am in a romantic relationship.  Romantic relationships take time.  Intimacy is important in any relationship, but to me, it is not sexual.  I do not jump into and out of relationships willy-nilly. I take my time. 

For those of you who do not already know.. i have a medical condition called lymphedema, it affaspects my legs. The condition caused large ulcers to form on the backs of my legs six years ago!! my left leg healed up within the first or second year, however the ulcers on my right leg are still there. At one point it was one large wound, about the size of a dinner plate!! They are much smaller but still a significant size and depth. Anyway, my wound dressings are soooo painful!! i am currently using preion pain meds, extra strength fake Tylenol, concentrated cannabis, and cannabis gummies.. NOT all at the same time. Today i ate a large pineapple flavored cannabis gummy. i was told it was equal to 3 servings!! i was STILL in severe pain for more than an hour and a half!! Full on bawling my head off and big fat non stop tears. Should ANYONE have a suggestion.. please leave the information in my mail. Any help is GREATLY appreciated. Thank you all, so very much.

10172025 Thank you again to all who reach out with words of encouragement and shared experience.  I feel the supportiveness and it gives Me another speck of SOURCE which fills Me and carries over to care of My best friend and mother.  Thank you from both of us women.  I never have shared much about the dominant nature of mother, but it is enough to say we are matched well.     For those who are DRAINS on My energy, you know well who you are and your presence is the slow bleed in life.  One could hope it all balances one out in the end, yet I cannot help keep thinking WHATAWASTEOFCELLS. You have the capacity for greatness and yet you allow EGO to rule you and with it come all the rest of the bedfellows, or more commonly known as the 7 sins.  Such a sorrow and I pray you find grace and love in your life.   I am seeking.  Many men have flitted in and out, some sharing more of their self and then life gets in the way, and afterall still I am not served, WE are not served. No live in, no part time, and 'Blast! Nothin but mutton to eat."  lol I continue the search and refine, redefine and realign Myself for the PRESANT.  

The Yearning for Grounding: Finding Purpose in a Dominant Dynamic.. We all possess hidden desires, yearnings that often simmer beneath the surface of our carefully constructed personas. One such yearning, perhaps more common than we readily admit, is the desire to be truly seen, and subsequently, guided, challenged, and even, in a sense, controlled. This isn't necessarily about literal ownership, but rather a deep craving for structure, direction, and the secure boundaries offered by a strong, assertive presence.The idea of being objectified, used for amusement, might sound unsettling at first glance. But on deeper reflection, it can be interpreted as a desire to be a source of light and joy for someone else. To be valued, appreciated, even celebrated for what you bring to their life, even if that role is perceived as subservient. This isn't about self-degradation, but rather about finding fulfillment in serving a purpose, in bringing happiness to another.The reality of a superior mentor, a "Guiding Lady" as it were, nurturing and shaping your path, speaks to a fundamental human need for guidance and direction. In a world often characterized by ambiguity and overwhelming choices, the prospect of surrendering to a trusted individual who can provide clarity and purpose can be incredibly appealing. It's a desire to be molded, refined, and ultimately, helped to reach one's full potential. Finding such a person provides a safe haven, a space where vulnerability is not a weakness, but an opportunity for growth.The cornerstone of any such dynamic is trust. It's not merely about submission, but about placing your faith in someone who will act in your best interest, even if that means pushing you beyond your comfort zone. The hope lies in finding a true, committed partner who understands the nuances of this dynamic and can navigate it with integrity and respect. This requires open communication, clear boundaries, and a shared understanding of expectations and limitations.Ultimately, the yearning for a dominant guiding force speaks to a deeper desire for purpose and commitment. It's a search for meaning, for a role that feels authentic and fulfilling. It's about finding someone who can not only appreciate your offerings, but also help you to become the best version of yourself. This journey may involve vulnerability, introspection, and a willingness to surrender control, but the potential reward is a profound sense of belonging, purpose, and unwavering connection. The key lies in finding that "true trusted superior person" who can provide not just direction, but also unwavering support and unwavering faith in your potential.

  Hooded, cuffed, naked to the waist,  he smelled the car, heard the sounds of the engine cooling. Her smell, that too mingled with the smell of fear in his leather clad nostrils.     The door to the entrance of the townhouse was one step up and forward. By grabbing his belt and firmly tugging, she lead him up the step. His shoes stumbled, explored and found their footing.  Softly, with a definite and solid thud, the door closed behind him. The metallic click of the door lock was unmistakable.   An anti room perhaps. Mud room? Laundry room? Utility room?   The floor was ceramic tile. He realized it when she unbuckled his belt and unfastened his pants. Without any word of command or explanation, he felt his trousers and shorts pushed to his ankles. He imagined her face near his naked crotch as he felt her gripping his leg and intuitively understood she wanted his shoes off and one leg at a time his trousers were gone. Through his socks, he felt the cold hard tile.   He almost lost his balance and fell when he felt her hair brush his inner thigh as she stood up.   He felt himself shiver in the coolness of the room but trickles of sweat ran down each side of his torso from under his armpits.   Suddenly he had the urge to pee. How would he make her understand? Unconsciously he began to dance that childish dance of holding back the yellow stream.

FYI - to anyone looking - I am pansexual. What that means is that I am attracted to all kinds of people, and their genitals don't really factor into my initial attraction. That said, I do have a "type" where crossdressing is concerned- I am not attracted to children, in any way, so dressing like a little girl in a frilly pink dress and ruffled panties, etc is a turn off to me. I associate that look with toddlers, female toddlers at that, which I associate with tantrums and screaming and stinking diapers and work and stress and being exhausted and a side of misogyny as all that falls on women because the men in their lives are willing to dump it on on us rather than step up and do an actual share of the work.  If dressing that way makes you feel pretty, and feminine, and you enjoy that, more power to you. I wish you lots of dress up time, and fancy frilies that don't chafe. HOWEVER If your goal is to find a Domme, you need to start tailoring your profile and pictures to what appeals to THEM. I don't know how many other Dommes are into that, or are turned on by that look, but I can say it doesn't come up much when we are talking about sexy subs. In order to find a buyer for your fine qualites, you need to advertize the thing that your target market wants to have. You need to find out what that is, and understand that it may not be what you hope it to be.  Or maybe consider a different audience. Plenty of pervy guys that like little girls. Maybe learn to like being liked by someone who likes what you offer, rather than trying to convince someone who doesn't like it to provide it.

What are the origins of My interest in the Master/slave dynamic? That's a question I have asked Myself many times and still find the answer elusive. Was it all those sword and sandal films I watched with the muscle bound men in chains? Or is it something deeper that drew me to those films and all the other images of lesser men serving a Superior? As humans, I believe we are drawn to others that confirm what we know is true about ourselves,  My involvement in training and developing slave minds and bodies dates back to the mid 1990's. I was newly out in My mid 30's and drawn to the darker edges of the gay community I was exploring. I began to notice a man watching me in the leater/levi bar I had started frequenting. The man was not physically attractive but his intensity interested Me. I was curious. Asking others brought a common warning, "he's a werido stay away". I continued to ignore and then finally one day he spoke to me. his first word to Me was "Sir".  More later...... 

I'm so excited, Tony is coming tomorrow.  It has been so tough with his job and three challenging kiddos.   Yet he is making the drive tomorrow and we'll have the weekend! WOOT!.   Been working around the cabin, so a lot has been put away, gallery walls completed, furniture and rugs placed, things look so much different from the last time he was here!  I left Christmas up, so we could have our own celebration .  I usually leave things til the end of Eppphany , a wee longer is no big deal, especially because I was late in getting things up . My father has been calling me a lot. He said he wants to move in with me , again. Not til Spring.  I don't know if he is mad at my niece and using me as a threat, or if he's finally ready to do it.     We'll see, I'm not holding my breath. Cataract surgery next week, I can't wait!  I have been struggling for a year and a half!  Hopefully all will go well, and glasses will be occasional, rather than continuously!. Bedtime.    M.  

I want something more then to be just someone's casual side piece. Ideally, I'm looking for someone who likes and wants power exchange, rope/shibari, bomdage, impact and can deal with a sassy brat. Now, when I say sassy brat; what I really mean is I'm sassy and I know how to use my brain. I will call you out and use my brain to work around or get out of things... so be careful what you say.   I want someone who knows what they are looking for or at least has an idea of what they want. Intelligence is a good thing to me and if I can out maneuver you... we're gonna have a problem, cause I will wrap you around my finger. I am a strong indepent woman and it takes someone similar to truly keep me in line.   I identify with many things like rope bunny, submissive, middle, brat, masochist, pet and on the rare occasion slut. I'm sure there is even more, but it would take someone I could truly learn to trust to bring it out in me. I want to explore and find out what I'm capable of, like, want and crave... even if it pushes me outside my confort zone.    I need something real and tangible; someone who can push me in my limits but not take it to far or go to fast. With me it's not always what I say but how my body or mind may react to something. I have a habit of putting things into neat little boxes and putting them in their spot. But I want someone to mess those boces up and make me rethink the way I see things.   If you think this could be you... feel free to message me :).   P.S. I should say I do have an age range. No offense meant... I don't generally play with people over 45 as they tend to remind me of my grandparents and it feels akward/weird for me. I also don't generally play with people under 25 as I tend to end up getting put into a teaching or mentor role and that's not what I am looking for.

I DID EDIT A COUPLE ENTRIES WHEN I REALIZED THEY WERE HARD TO READ, UNTIL I NOTICED IT CHANGED THE DATE... I don't know if I should just give up or redo my profile or what. I have lost contact with some I wished to talk to due to short term memory issues that pop up from time to time. Those that I have a great conversation with just seem to disappear. If I am screwing up-tell me. I do talk a lot when nervous. I also try to lay it all out there so things don't come up later and be a red flag, and that  can be overwhelming. I am very honest and open because I know what I need and want. Very few have been as open back, but I have appreciated it, Maybe I just need a break? I have grown weary of the search.

  Believe it or not, this is my first journal entry. all this time I had no gotdarn clue how to use it. Well here I go.. So...what do you wanna talk about?  (Hands the mic to you)     

He pressed his thumb against her lips, while exploring the depths of her arousal, as she begins to gasp, she takes his thumb and begins to suckle it .. taking it deeper as sensations pulse through her body.. Her body craving use, he whispers.. your mine As she takes him in deeper, moans escape.. He works his way down her body, rough kisses with bites her flesh.. Screams , laughter and moans fill the air, as in this moment... She's his play thing. Chained.. no place to go . Her body, his toy.. Her screams.... His satisfaction Slaps, smacks against her skin.. The cold metal finding her sweet spot... The rhythms and motions moving back and forth..As the clink of the metal brings her to a whole new level.. he plays with it.. back and forth, then slaps it... Body thrusting wanting craving as his teeth grab her nipples.. hand slapping that cunt.. over and over.. his hand eases and her body, aches for more. Laying there soaked in her excitement and arousals.   This cold metal, is simply her undoing and she's loving every bit of it.

It's been a few years since I was involved in a play party that was worthy sharing. I do live the slave life 24/7 and serve Master James and Mistress Tabitha. With that said the basic flogging, domestic service, run of the mill slave life isn't usually something to write about. Especially when you have been owneed for just over nine years.With that said, I have been commanded to share last  nights play with you.For the first time the BDSM group was invited over to play with me in a new way. The group consists of six Master slave couple and our threesome. All were present.Last night the atendees participated in using me for electricity and pain games.I was tied sprerad eagle in the barn. Standing with my wrists up high and wide over my head. The first game was a two litre enema, I was told to hold it for 30  seconds and there wouuld be no punishment for releasing it at that time. But if I failed I had to take a dop of tobasco on my tongue and thern on my clit. Now, I recieve two litre ebnemas often so this shouildn't be an issue. I take the enema, stand in the middle of the barn and four of the guests put magic wands on my mmost sensative areas. My body jerks but I manage to hold on.10 minutes after I complete my task another enema and this time nine volt batteries with exposed wires are used. As the guests spit on my nippels and cunnie to moisten me before I am zapped I know it's going to be hard to acomplish. I lasted 28 seconds. Instantly a drop of Tobasco is applied to my tongue and clit. I am told to swallow.It's a little hot but nothind serious. I do ok.Next I'm told the my punishment will be a drop of Carolina Reaper on my tongue and clit. Again the enema, this time four commerecial tens units are attached to my breasts and labia, but there is one exception, one of the guests puts a tens pad above and below my belly buton. The shock was horrific and I lasted mere seconds. The carolina reaper sauce set everything on fire. It was hell. It took me almost fourty five minutes to recover.Then came the last test. The last test, was actyually just to  torture me as there was no way in hell anyone could succeed at this point. One o my sister slaves from another Master adminiistered the enema, but this time two of the other slave walked over and kissed me on the cheek and neck whispering that they loved me. One was holding Ghost Pepper in a fluid form and the other a stun gun. My sister started at my clit and gently drew a line upwards towards my belly button. Half way between the two she discharged the stun gun and I lost control.Once again my ball gagg was removed, the ghost peper fluid was dripped onto my tongue and my mouth started to burn in ways I can't even describe. I'm bawling and choking and gagging. Then came the clit drop and I thought I was going to dislocate both shoulders as I fought my restrants. My throat was so closed up by the heat I couldn't scream, I was just ging and choking.Everyone in the barn was laughing and taslking about what a good little cunt I am. When I finally recovered Master walked over, said I had failed and he out a drop og ghost pepper sauce on his finger and slipped it into my ass.I have never complained about a session with my owners or the group before, but this morning I did literally beg then not to do that again. Mistress gave a gentle kiss and told me to rememeber my place and that I had begegd them to use me as they wished over nine years ago.They are good to me, but I fear tyhat I may have overstepped my bounds this morning and that I will pay a price for that in the future.

AcadaMay CFNM End Of Year Ball - Saturday 6th December - Applications now open The AcadaMay CFNM Ball celebrates female empowerment through elegance, confidence, control, and connection in a respectful, sensual, and beautifully refined setting, but all dynamics of BDSM are welcome to attend. It is open to everybody, whether Dominant, sub, switch, kinky or just plain curious! Couples, single ladies, single gentlemen are all welcome. Step into an evening of elegance and intrigue at the Enchanting AcdaMay CFNM Ball where sophistication meets sensuality. Set in a stunning large and comfortable dungeon in North London this inclusive gathering invites guests to engage their sartorial splendour and immerse themselves in an unforgettable experience. This fantastic venue is fully equipped with all sorts of interesting equipment on two floors; St Andrew’s Crosses, Spanking Benches, Schoolroom, Medical Play Chairs, Queening Chairs and comfortable sofas and Chesterfields for relaxation and socialising. There is even a curtained 4 poster bed for those who may wish to have a private or public moment - a little voyeurism never did anybody any harm! The evening starts at 9pm and I would ask you to arrive promptly so we can get the party started and not waste any valuable time so that we can get stuck into the evenings events. In the interest of privacy and security I will send attendees the exact address nearer the time. Bring your favourite tipple which the naked waiters will serve to you during the course of the evening, and of course, your favourite selection of toys for your debauched use throughout the evening. CFNM (clothed female, naked man) males and CMNW (clothed men, naked woman) females are invited to attend in white shirt collar, black bow, white wrist cuffs, black dress socks and black polished shoes, otherwise you will be naked.  You will be expected to serve the other guests upon request. The dress code for gentlemen is black tie followed by fetish attire for the commencement of play. The dress code for ladies will be LBD and heels for the cocktail hour followed by fetish attire for the ensuing decadence. Whether you're a seasoned attendee or new to the scene, the Ball promises laughter, conversation, and connection among like-minded individuals who appreciate charm, class, and decorum and most of all, plenty of BDSM! With limited availability and high demand, we encourage early application to ensure your place at this exclusive affair. Come celebrate freedom, elegance, and community in one truly extraordinary evening.  If you wish to attend please do email for further details of how to reserve your place. email:acadamayevents@gmail.com Website: acadamay.com under CFNM

This is really difficult. And I don't mean being cute or pretty. I'm talking about trying to find somebody. I mean I kind of wanted a female, a woman, but I'm realizing, what would a woman want to do with me? I mean, unless she saw our relationship as some kind of lesbian relationship. But then why invest the time with me? Just get a woman. It isn't like I've been cuckhold now I'm just watching my last relationship have sex with men and we go and get our hair done together. That's a silly dumb fantasy. I don't really expect that ever. So it becomes kind of complicated. Being with a guy, I've been there. It never really works out. Most guys really have no idea. And I don't mean that in a mean way. And yes I've tried, thinking OK I'll be with a guy he can just go be a guy I'll be the girl I'll take care of everything that I need to to be cute and pretty. But oddly enough, it never seems to work out that way. I am submissive and really truly just want to explore more of a relationship as a submissive and feminine. I've done all the hard work myself. I am on estrogen and other feminizing pharmaceuticals. I've actually been surgically castrated, yes, have no balls. But yet I still can't find someone. And yet I still also feel more male than female. Is there really a woman out there that actually enjoys the art of emasculation? And also possibly feminization. I remember a long time ago I was at a bar out here in California, called the Oxwood Inn (I think that was it) and I saw a cute couple. a black woman, clearly the dominant, and a effeminate partner. I started a conversation with her, the dominant, basically asking about their relationship, and if she was together with her. I was quickly explained that yes, they do live together. She was working to turn him into a her in every way. This honestly fascinated me so much so that I still kind of looking for that same relationship. Now I'm sure there are men out there that might be able to do this? I've even gone so far as wondered if possibly I could pay somebody. Make some sort of long-term agreement because I'm sure this isn't gonna happen in a month or three months I would venture to say for complete transition, it's got to be at least a year? But then again what do I know? 

I just bought some new tangerine colored panties and thought about going to the ABS, so I went home to change into some pretty underthings. i then went to my go-to ABS wearing a shear white button down cover-up, a white bandeau bra and my new tangerine colored panties under my pants. i bought my tokens, and as i walked to the back room, i unbuttoned my cover-up leaving my bra exposed. I sat down in the booth and it wasn’t long before I was sucking on a nice cock. After I finished off the second cock, a guy came into my booth waving me outside of my booth and into another booth. i walked in - a guy was stroking his Big Black Cock. It was the biggest cock i have ever saw, i mean it was massive! He pointed to my crotch and I lowered my jeans showing him my panties. He pointed again, and i lowered my panties showing him my little clitty. He stood up and pulled my clitty next to his cock. It was extremely humiliating to see my little white clitty next to his massive black cock. He put his arm on my shoulder directing me down to a stooping position, right in front of his cock. At first, it was all i could do just to get the head of his cock in my mouth, slowly i was able to get further down his shaft. After a while, he start to moan and thrusting his cock forward into my mouth. Shortly after that, he started to cum. After he filled my mouth with cum, he pulled out and his cum was still dripping out of his cock. He pulled up his pants and left.                

The List of Red Flags--Profile Edition I'm back on Collarspace after a short hiatus.  As an experienced Domme, I see all the red flags before everyone else.  I know who arethe kinkiest: shoutout to Florida and Australia for having some of the kinkiest people on the planet.  There are a lot more creepy ass people on here than before, and a bunch of fantasy seekers and married men.  Its a complete waste of time.  LOCATION-- Ghost profile. If the profile does not state a location, they're not looking to be found.  Move on. No Kinks Listed: Someone new, inexperienced or fantasy seeker NO BDSM TEST RESULTS:  If you don't know who you are kinkwise, you lack self awareness.  This is generally a sign of a narcissist. NO PIC:  Not looking to be found.  Unless the account is new, there should always be a photo.   DICK PICS: Person is a dick.    If the picture is of someone exceptionally attractive, buyer beware.  Attractive people get attention.  They don't need an ad.

Ok I tried. I really really tried to go full on vanilla. I turned off everything. I deleted it all. I was serious. As soon as I was done the very next day I sank so far into depression. I really do hate my life. Why do I need this? Why can't I turn it off and be normal? Right now crying because there's not some man telling you what to do? Pathetic. Weak. How can I call myself a strong black woman? I'm pitiful and I can't even look at myself any more.  So why are you back then?  Like I said I'm pitiful. An ex-potential Master reached out that same next day. After 4 or 5 years ...he was like i missed you, still had your number blah blah blah and I bounced back. I do not think he is a Master but a very dark aggressive dominant vanilla man. He knows nothing of limits, protocols, needs and he blows past my limits all the time hence why I didn't submit to him before. I know I know I'm desperate. My kinks is force and control so though I know what he's doing is detrimental I also get off on my wants, and kinks being ignored for his pleasure.. OMG just the thought is making me wet and driving that insane need that's in me... Gawd I hate that feeling... No I love it, crave it but I hate that I have it ... That need that feeling ...if that makes sense. Gawd, I wish I was normal.  So I'm kinda back. The ex-potential and I will meet this Saturday so at least for a week I'm semi normal until I realize he can't be my Master and then I'll sink back into depression and wanting to end... Anyways I really do hate me. I wish there was a way to stop it. To go back to vanilla to be normal to... To... Anything is better than this   I rather seriously just end it all then continue having this need that can't be fulfilled .... I hate that my mental health is based off ownership... I hate that I went from crying and being in the dark to just happy because some guy said he MIGHT own me .. I hate how pathetic I am... I hate how weak I am .. I hate how my mind has all this taboo, gross, dark stuff... I hate me. I hate my life. If there was an easy non painful way for me to end it all I would have done that years ago.    I hate this feeling.  I hate this need.  I hate this craving.  I hate me. 

When you message me and live in another state, you should plan to attend a munch that I am attending in California. I require a face-to-face meeting sooner rather than later. You need to make the trip out to me if you are serious about serving me. There are no guarantees, but a meeting needs to happen sooner rather than later. My rule is not negotiable.  I have the same meeting sooner rather than later requirement for the men who live around me or in the state. The question I am considering is, Do I want to have dinner with you? Do I consider you worthy of my time while enjoying a meal? (Seinfeld: When Elaine was deciding if suitors were sponge-worthy—We all have a thing.)    If you aspire to be my submissive, you will have a job and be able to provide for yourself, a car to transport yourself in, and a home to live in and commute to my home to serve as needed. 

I want to roleplay as a cheerleader. You command me to cheerlead for you as you play a sport in front of a crowd.  However before I go out there you force me to wear clamps on my nipples, embrassing panties and stick a dildo in my pussy. As I try to cheer, you turn on the vibrator in the dildo and make me drip my juices while making it impossible for me to cheer properly Then when you lose you take me to the locker room, tell me I lost because of my useless cheer leading, while taking the dildo and pumping it in my.pussy while against a locker You then take out your cock and slowly pull out the dildo, but then give me no tike.to.rest as you shove your cock in me. You take out your frustrations on me while im in bliss while holding my pompoms, and cheering your cock. Your teammates then come in looking defeated and as they see us they join in to get their frustration out. The entire team then take their cocks and shower me in their juices while I wave my pompoms and my cheerleading out turns from red to white. You then put me back in your sports bag while im in estacy and say that you're going back to train me again so the team doesnt lose again.

I am finding more people reaching out to me from out of state. While I don't mind chatting, some just send the how are you or other similar message, then don't really converse or may even ghost me. Then a couple months go by, and some even come back again with the how are you. I have stated in my profile at one point that if you are not in my state and not willing to relocate yourself to not contact me. At one point I had a guy reach out to me asking if I would take on his fiance and train her as a sub. I tbought why not.  He was willing to pay to send her to me and cover all costs. We had a good conversation going on for almost a month. He sent me photos, we discussed different scenarios. He then asked if I would keep her as my own and not let her come back to him and kept pushing that as if he did not want her. After several messages, I noticed he was fishing for info that I was not willing to give and after a while, he blocked me.  I wasted all that time chatting for something that ended up being a fishing scam. So be aware of the conversation you have with others. I have a rule not to give out personal information specifically for these reasons. I have had many people attempt to use information to try and blackmail me. What they don't realize is that I don't care. If they want to out me to family or frineds......be my guest. Most family I have on my social media don't care and some even know about my lifestyle choices. I had someone also reach out to me asking for me to relocate them to my area from another state. Thisnwas the first red flag as I clearly stated in my profile that I would not. I even went as far as to start texting via phone and text messaging directly. Their story was so convincing. However that old addage of if it sounds too good to be true it probably is. I ended up blocking them because I just had a bad feeling about the while situation. They were asking me to do some crazy things that were either borderline illegal or plain out against the law.    Long story short. I am so done with the lack of reading my profile and asking me to do shit that I cleay stated I would not. I am tired of the short how are you doing messages. I put a little more effort into my messages so I expect a little more substance. I understand and am more than happy to be adult about discussing things, and if by chance we are not a match am more than happy to say lets be friends or even go our seperate ways. Just be adult enough to say it rather than blocking me or ghosting me. We can all be adults here. Let's act like it and not be like we were in middle school.    For now, end of rant. I do use the block member button regularly and am more than happy to also report users that appear to be breaking the rules on the site or in some cases the law. We are all here for a reason. Mine is to connect with like minded local people and see what may come of it and at the very least hope that I can make a new friend      

“The Lesson in the Red Chair – Part 3: Verbal Edging” T.L. Duncan He knelt in front of the red chair, shoulders tight, breath uneven, hands locked behind his back like that was the only thing stopping him from falling apart. And honestly? It probably was. I stayed behind him for a moment, letting silence claw at the edges of his self-control. Then I moved — not touching him — just stepping close enough for my presence to wrap around him like a velvet noose. “You’re trembling,” I said quietly. His exhale stuttered. “I’m not even touching you, and you’re already at the edge, aren’t you?” “Yes, Ma’am… I— I think so.” “You think?” I echoed with a soft laugh. “Oh no, sweetheart. You’re not thinking anything. You’re reacting.” He moaned under his breath — that small, broken sound a submissive makes when they’ve lost the ability to lie to themselves. I circled him slowly, deliberately, letting nothing but my voice tether him in place. “You know what I want?” I whispered. “I want to watch you come undone without a single finger laid on you.” His breath hitched as if he’d been struck. “That’s impossible,” he whispered. I leaned down, letting my lips come close to his ear without touching it. “Then why,” I murmured, “are you already right there?” His entire body shook. Good. I stepped in front of him, lowering myself into the red chair like a queen taking her rightful throne. He kept his eyes down, not daring to look. “Show me your face,” I commanded. He lifted it slowly — flushed cheeks, parted lips, pupils blown wide with need. “You’re sensitive,” I said, voice dipping into velvet dominance. “You’re needy. You’re desperate. And because I said nothing more than a whisper in your ear…” I paused, letting it sink in. “…you’re already fighting not to beg.” He swallowed hard. “Are you?” I asked. “Yes, Ma’am,” he confessed, almost choking on the truth. “Good. Then listen carefully.” I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, letting my voice soften into a dark, seductive purr. “You’re going to hover right at the brink for me. Not from touch. Not from permission. But because your body responds to my voice more than it responds to your own will.” His breath trembled — fast, shaky, frantic. “You feel it, don’t you? That pull right behind your hips?” He nodded. “That ache low in your stomach?” “Yes, Ma’am…” “That tightening right at the base of your spine?” His moan gave me the answer long before his words could. “That’s mine,” I whispered. “That reaction belongs to me.” He whimpered — quiet, helpless, undone. “Now breathe for me,” I instructed. He took a shaky breath in. “Slower.” He obeyed. “Good boy.” His knees wobbled. “One more,” I said. “Nice and slow.” He inhaled deeply — too deeply — and his whole body twitched. “There it is,” I murmured. “Right before your body tries to give you relief.” He let out a desperate noise. “Don’t you dare,” I warned, voice dropping to a threat that melted into his bones. “You don’t come. You don’t twitch. You don’t even think about release unless I say so.” His head fell forward as if the weight of that command alone nearly toppled him. I took his chin and lifted it again — slow, controlled, claiming. “Look at me when I ruin you with nothing but my words.” He obeyed. Barely. “Good,” I whispered. “Because now I’m going to talk you right to the edge… and keep you trembling on it until the only thing left in your world is my voice telling you no.” His lips parted. His breath broke. He was right there. And I hadn’t touched him once. He was trembling so hard his breath came in little broken fragments, his hands still locked behind his back, his eyes wide and fixed on me like I’d become the only anchor he had left. Good. He needed to be that undone for what came next. “Hands behind your back,” I said softly. “Don’t let them move.” “Yes… Ma’am…” “Now listen carefully,” I continued, settling deeper into the red chair. “You’re going to hold the position I tell you. Exactly. No shaking out your limbs, no shifting, no chasing comfort. Service is discipline, not relief.” He swallowed hard. He knew what that meant. He knew his body was already too unstable to make this easy. I smiled. “Present.” He immediately widened his knees, straightened his back, lifted his chest, and locked his gaze just below my chin — the perfect kneeling position. But his breath shivered, rattling through the tension. “Better,” I murmured. “But bring your shoulders back and open your throat.” He obeyed. His neck stretched beautifully when he lifted his chin, exposing everything from clavicle to pulse point. Vulnerable. Trusting. Swaying slightly from the lingering edge I’d whispered him into. “You’re still trembling,” I observed. “I… can’t help it, Ma’am…” I tilted my head with cool amusement. “You can. And you will. Hold your posture.” He tried. Gods, he tried — his whole body fighting the urge to fold forward. I let him struggle for a long moment before I said: “Now lower your gaze to the floor… but keep your head high. No collapsing.”