Another day, another journal entry... This is subMeghan, once again announcing to you all that as I type this I am naked, wearing only my collar (and glasses), just as my Dom wishes...  and his wish, is my command... I got several follow-up messages regarding my last journal entry. So here are some of the details you all demanded to know. I was tied to a wooden chair with a high back.  Yes, my legs were spread wide apart with each ankle pulled back and tied to a back leg of the chair in such a way that only my toes touched the ground.  My wrists were tied together behind my back and behind the back of the chair. No, I was not blindfolded, but my Dom did remove my glasses.  Oh course I was naked.  (I don't know why someone would have thought otherwise.) As my Dom was going to leave me alone like this while he went to the grocery store, no nipple clamps, no clothes pins were used.  No ball gag was used.  Nothing extreme.  We wanted to play it safe since I'd be alone.  Although I would have preferred it, I was not allowed to have a virbrator.  All in all, this was a relatively easy position to maintain. No, I did not try and escape.  Again, I was alone and that might be dangerous. Let's see...  My dom was gone for at least an hour.  So basically I just sat there and waited.  When he came home, he did not immediately untie me, but rather did a few things first.  When he did untie me, he directed me to go and put the groceries away, which I did... I think that answered everybody's questions. If not, let me know... I hope you all have a great holiday weekend. subMeghan  

Today I read a journal entry on here asking where is the love on this site. Personally I don't share deep sentiments online, particularly on here. Why? Many are new bottoms seeking transactional kink which gets them blocked. In my view a submissivelistens to how I lead and answers questions I have. A bittom pushes to play to start how he-wants it=my Lady boner dropp means he gets ignored and BLOCKED. Returning to the topic of love: Any deep emotional feelings are mutual and developed over time within my poly group I am the Boss of a long-term face-to-face relationship. On here are my entry level thoughts regarding me, my life and who attracts my interestas a friend or potential long-term Slave in a TAT poly relationship.  Of course getting to know each other prior to anything developing takes time. I don't talk kink online at all. First meet is at The Mawney Munch in Romford in Essex, UK. No exceptions.  Pretty clear right?

  Do you have an all consuming foot fetish? If so, you could be the foot slave I am looking for. Duties to include full pedicures, moisturising, massaging and stroking etc. you may also be used as a foot stool should I so desire.  you must be be no further than an hour from me ( East Sussex ) as weekly visits will be required if not more. Shortlisted, you will be given my location and required to meet Me over coffee or wine, depending on my mood. Reply with FOOT SLAVE in the title and garnish me with why you should be considered. One line messages will be deleted. Stand out from the crowd.  M M 

 A collar isn’t just a symbol… it’s a question What does your collar mean to you? Is it ownership, trust, devotion, identity… or something else entirely? For some, it’s a sacred vow. For others, it’s a promise to themselves — a reminder of who they are when they give themselves over.   I want to hear your thoughts. When you see or wear a collar, what stirs in your heart? Is it pride? Submission? Comfort? Or maybe a little fear that makes you more alive?   Let’s open this dialogue. Share your experience. 

Essay on the three types of Dominants as percieve us to behave and act. Dominants fall into three general categories, Authoritarian, Democratic, and Equalitarian. Each category has its sub counterpart. Because these are generalities each category has many variations. What these variations may be are left up for you to conclude. The Authoritarian Dom:  Rules with absolute power and total control. He makes all of the decisions and there is no questioning by the sub of what is asked or what is done. The only recourse a sub may have, if allowed, is a “safe” word. Generally there are little or no limitations binding the Dom. The subs attracted to these relationships are the “slave” submissive. The sub that wishes to be totally controlled. This form involves the voluntary surrender both emotionally and physically on the part of the sub. Generally the limits are pushed through heavy S&M activities. Some of the strongest relationships exist within this category. The couples that live a 24/7 D/s relationship are usually found in this realm. Unlike with the Democratic Dominant, there are no long training sessions to affect certain behavior. Things are done with no negotiations, limits are pushed and both parties accept this. The feeling of closeness and coupling is generated by the relinquishing control and the wielding of (almost) absolute power. This Dom’s implements (toys if you prefer) are usually highly crafted, sometimes intricate, wielded both with proficiency and effectiveness. The Dominants are skilled in their use and their sub is generally highly skilled at receiving the results. The implements developed by the Authoritarian’s are often borrowed in kind by Dom’s in other types of D/s relationships. It can be a profound and sobering experience for someone not yet familiar with this type of domination to watch an Authoritarian scene. Authoritarian Domination is what is usually referred to as “real”, when D/s aficionados use the term real, this is of what they are speaking. This type of D/s is not only S&M but encompasses a wide variety of  D/s conventions and behaviors. This is the generally accepted and also the stereotypical definition of BDSM. Remember that this is only the stereotypical definition of “real”. Authoritarianism is only one ect or area of D/s. So “real” is what you are involved in and feel comfortable with and not what others do.  

As I mentioned before I quite enjoy submission..  At times I really enjoy some of the profiles here as I see  submission beyong my expectations..  The possibilities are endless. Mind you it does not mean  its a green light to do anything that my mind could think of.. It means  that there is a journey for both to   take and to  learn from it together.   And why learn? Because it's different with each  sub or dom, reactions, feelings expectations, likes and dislikes.. Protocols and rules are part of my thing...  It brings a spark to my eyes...  " I have you, and you are mine"  Because you  choose to submit and I choose to dominate  the perfect connection can be formed.  Its not because you decide I am worthy of your submission.. Rather because we both decide to commit through submission and domination, that both decide that the person in front is worth our time, effort and dedication...   Love dedication and focus..  More to come..   

Its the girls weekend to play. An play we shall!! Ive be looking forward to this weekend.. Welcome to my Group of Dommes. Ms Rhonda from New Jersey.

I'm English. Where the language comes from. Dominant is an adjective. It describes a thing. As in, "The dominant person." It commonly gets shorted into noun form, as a thing unto itself. As in, "The dominant slapped some knowledge into the illiterate." To dominate is a verb. It's a doing word. You use it like, "He dominated the test." "She dominated the opposition." "The dominant dominated the submissive." When you find yourself writing the words, "I am a dominate," what you are actually saying is, "I am an illiterate twat who doesn't know the difference between a verb and an adjective or noun. Now please ignore that I can't apply enough thinking to use the language without hurting myself and please trust me with your safety instead." Should you find yourself writing, "I am seeking my ideal dominate," what you are really saying is, "I am not seeking a literate disciplinarian as they would be forced to beat me until all of their toys broke." As an Englishman, it goes without saying that the above is presented with hyperbolic sarcasm. But if we're struggling with nouns vs verbs, trying to explain sarcasm is unlikely to go well.

Ooh, you're simply the best Better than all the rest Better than anyone Better than anyone I've ever met Tina Turner 1989

Tell me like it is, like a lover,what it is you long to discover.Tell me what is your inspiration,where it is you find heart to listen.Tell me where you go, understanding,when you find a space while philand'ring.Tell me when we go, go like passion,how we go, go like flame so brazen. 'cause I come into this placeeager to recieve your peaceI come with my kindled heartburning to recieve your parton my knees to your altarso proud of this one collar So tell me about the raw darkness;Your teachings and the path of service,about dreams and deep irations,and all about tall fascinations.Tell me how you want to strip me down,hold me down, decrown, and help me drown myself in your grand splendor,where I am in surrenderTo your profound, splendid mind.And in submission I findmyself in absolution,freedom and transformation. ~dirtydarling

Stand here.  Nice and still. Nice and straight. Just listen to my voice and do everything I tell you to do. Good girl.  Don’t move.  Don’t make a sound. Put your hands behind your back. Don’t resist the rope.  Just relax and let the rope do its work.   Be still while I put the collar on your neck. Head up.  Let me move your hair out of the way.  Good girl. Now the blindfold.  Don’t move. Be still. Now I attach the lead to the collar. As I pull on the lead you follow.  Walk slowly wherever I lead you.   Now I control you.  Listen to my voice. Do everything I tell you to do. Don’t resist my touch or direction in any way. Be totally obedient and compliant. Don’t think.  Just do everything I tell you to do. Good girl.

Saw something on here today that was a HUGE RED FLAG for me. Some guy checked me out, so I in turn checked him out, and saw that he was using a picture of a former sub or playmate or whatever on his profile, face and all.  I gotta ask, does she know that you are using her picture, showing her ladybits and her face on a bdsm site for all to see?  How many women are having their privacy violated because a guy thinks the best way to advertise himself on here or other sites is to show pics of women, identifying chracteristics and all?  Frst of all, is that all you got?  You can't make your own profile attractive on your own?  You have to resort to pcitures of other people? Second of all, how do I know that if I played with a guy who does this to other women, that he wouldn't do it to me also?  I am not the only one that thinks this way.  Check out the questions about this on discussion boards on Fet.  Lots of women say/think the same thing. HUGE red flag.  HUGE.  

Reason vs Emotion Many answer My profile with uncertainty about what and who they are. A few have even suggested (demanded, can you believe?) I kidnap them, confine them, torture them until (guess what?) they become what they actually need to be: a total slave.  More frequently, the neophyte slave wants Me to convince their reasoning self that they actually need to be what their emotional inborn self wants and needs. Engaging in dialog with this group leads to exhaustion on My part and ultimate discovery by the struggling slave that “we do not fit” or “it can not quite give up its current existence.” They are trapped in their own internal conflict that I would be hard pressed resolve for them.  On the continuum of living the reality and harboring dreams, fantasies and in born desire those described above are in the middle. Probably, as might well be depicted under a bell curve, that would be the 80% occupying the center range. My guess is about 10% of those with inborn need to submit will live their lives, probably with nagging discontent and frustration, without ever confronting that need. It is the last 10% of the population that I want to find. This last little group are slaves that have accepted what they are. Most likely, if they think about why they are what they are, they will consider themselves ‘born slave.’ Probably only 5% of that 10% will successfully arrive for my inspection. So, in terms of what I do here, the slave the responding to My profile should not expect chat or kidnapping. But rather, be prepared to sacrifice enough to travel to Me for the possible start of a lifetime of what they were born to do: service.

A young woman asked me a question about posturing I will share my view on that subject as there is so much of it on lifestyle sites and I feel most of it is pure bull shit. There was a time, when, how lifestyle folks presented themselves in public and in private, told who they were. It was far more subtle. Subs and slaves did not announce who they were and dominants did not have to call themselves owners or dominants or masters because both sides looked for those tell tale signs and vice versa. You could walk into a room filled with vanilla folks and pick out who was in command and who was subservient and who the clueless were. A submissive would make less eye contact in public seem more shy, talk less or only when spoken to. More dominant types were bolder, asked the questions, initiated the conversations and so on. You knew by their "presence" who they were, not by their words or self given titles. Lifestyle folks looked for such things and recognized each other, were drawn to each other. The advent of the internet and sites like this and others, produced a bunch of wannabe owners and dominants who posture and preen and say "I am" when they are not. You will see a 20 something male, working at McDonald's and living in a walk up rental, calling himself Master and demanding that women bow to him. He has an old beater car, no savings, no future, he has not even began to master his own life. Now he claims he can be master of a sub or slave. These are the people who demand a sub "posture" for him and demand the sub call him sir or master. It's his ego speaking, not his dominance or mastery of anything. We married in the early 70's as a natural dominant and natural submissive but those words were never spoken for at least 20 years. Married in 71 but it took me until 86 to even begin to master my life. In 86 I walked away from a high paying factory job and created my first major business, an auction house. That began a lifetime of building businesses, getting them up to profitability and then selling them. Even then, I never once called myself a Master. We opened the marriage to others from time to time and it was always her seeking a dominant type and myself seeking a submissive type. We could do so because we were secure in who we were, who we each belonged to. I played with a submissive on and off for few years who called me "Mister B" but she always made it a joke, a way of poking fun at me. She would say it with emphasis on the Mister and then she would laugh at me. She was secure in who she was and knew that I was as well. Among the very best of submissives that I ever played with in those years, was a woman who was in upper management of a major corporation. At work they called her the dragon lady and people were actually afraid of her because she could make or break a career. She called me "Donkey" from the movie Shrek and she claimed she was my dragon. She served me with her entire being. It is not about posture or titles, it is about who we are and how we are, that makes us owners or dominants, subs or slaves. Don't buy into the hype, the hype is bull shit. Look at who they are, what they have accomplished. Look at how they help those around themselves. In the words of Mohamed Ali, an ultimate Master, "look at how they treat those who can not benefit them in any way". If they treat the waiter poorly, run. A true master protects, builds up those around themselves, looks to help the less fortunate, looks to promote others to be all they can be and does not say worship me. A master is. They are not someone who calls themselves as such. A sub or slave, looks for such people and wants to help them by combining their power with the power of the owner or dominant or master. I seek to serve nature as her sub/slave. She is far greater than myself, a worthy mistress with no ego. By doing so, I gain as well. I seek those who feel that is something worthy of doing and want to add their power to my own. I say openly that by myself, I am not enough, that I need your power added to my own. Even then, I fully understand that we will not be enough but we can make some small difference. If you feel a need to serve such a man, I would humbly welcome your support. Then, in the future and only if you feel that I have proven to you, that I am worthy to be called your owner or dominant or master, I will be thankful and we will continue the work together.  

Well this is John no this is February I'm sorry yeah 2022 I haven't put a journal entry in a couple years now I really upset with the collar space people because I continue to write probably two different people everyday just let him know what's going on in my life and let him know that yeah I made this purchase of a house to use for people that have a hard time transitioning and giving them a place to come stay you know I I first ask him if they have a job if they have a car they have transportation otherwise what will you know we'll try to help some people if we can but I expect the people to come and you know make an effort and it doesn't matter to me you know what's your fantasies are a lot of people just want to talk to you and probably talk about their fantasies and get all horny and get off and then you never hear from him for months I'm not into all that people I mean you know I understand your your needs I've been there I've I've probably done the very same thing. There's people out here that have written to that I've never heard back and probably a couple years it shows if they haven't even been online in a couple years they're very cute very young very naive and I'm hoping that they're still alive that didn't get hooked up with a serial killer I mean that happens anyway so I wish people would just tell me to you know go to hell or yeah hey I'm interested in talking to you and hear when can you talk back to me I mean like stuff like that I'm not looking to fulfill your fantasies I'm looking for friendships lasting friendships just like in the real world folks so I'm transgender yeah I'm kind of a little and I'm real so I mean if I don't understand what's going on with covid here my God people yeah I'm all alone I hardly have contact with any of my friends because they're afraid to come outside their houses well I'm safe I I wear my mask I'm inoculated I've done everything I possibly can and yeah it's my freedom to do so so anyway with that said I'm done with this entity so as I always say it's ciao for now  

Let’s speak on something most avoid. What is the point of control, if there is no purpose behind it? To take responsibility for someone, whether you call them a submissive, a slave, or anything else, and then leave them without direction, is not power, it’s mismanagement. Service is meant to be useful. Without purpose, without structure, without a defined role, that energy has nowhere to go, and over time it deteriorates, focus fades, discipline weakens, and what could have been something valuable becomes wasted potential. So I ask, You say you “own” them, now what? What is their routine, what are they responsible for, what are they building under your direction, what is the outcome you’re working toward? Because in any real system, any kingdom, any structure, everyone has a place. A role, a function, a reason they exist within it. Without that, you’re not leading, you’re collecting. And that’s where most fail. If your life cannot function without them, then who is truly in control? If their only purpose is to sustain you financially, then what happens when they step away? You haven’t built anything, you’ve created dependency. And dependency is fragile. Real power is stability, it’s structure, it’s having your world in order first, so that anything added to it strengthens it, not holds it together. So this is the challenge, Get clear, get structured, get intentional. Because if you’re going to take responsibility for someone else, You should already know what to do with it. — Mistress Nikki Vixen

A frenulum (or frenum) is a small fold or band of tissue that connects one part of your body to another, restricting its range of motion. The term is most commonly used to describe tissues in the mouth or the penis. Types of Frenulums Mouth (Oral): These connect your lips and cheeks to your gums. A common oral frenulum is the lingual frenulum, which connects the underside of your tongue to the floor of your mouth. If this band is too tight or extends too far to the tip of the tongue, it restricts movement, a condition known as "tongue-tie" (ankyloglossia). Penis: The penile frenulum is a small, elastic strip of skin on the underside of the penis that connects the foreskin to the head (glans). It helps guide the foreskin over the head during an erection and is highly sensitive.

Alot has changed since I first created our profile. What I have noticed over the past year or so since I last checked in is that is still many of the same faces.  People I suspect want the idea, but are too afraid to go for it when it is in front of them. So, what we are looking for also has changed.  I was looking to add to a poly family.  Well that part is done as there are now three of us under one roof. What we since decided is to find someone (female) who desires a complete loss of herself not for sensual BDSM, but for complete enslavement. The person who seek would be looking to disappear from society, and be locked away, perhaps never being allowed to leave our dungeon and your new home. In this role, you will spend many hours in bondage or caged, except when one of us decides we wish to enjoy your flesh for our pleasure.  That pleasure being anything from using you for our sexual gratification, to being tortured just so we can hear you cry or beg for it to be over, to simply clean the floor on hands and knees. Is this what you desire?  Seriously, because many people think it is, but few can really accept that they are offering themselves to a sadist who finds love only in hearing cries and whimpers.  Who favors the sound of leather agaist flesh over sweet 'I love yous'.  Many profiiles will read like this I suspect, yet less actually have experience in doing just that.  So, if you really want to atone for what ever sin you have done (and I could care less what that sin is), then lets talk.  If you want to be used while reminded what a worthless piece of crap you are, then your the woman we seek.

I used to think hrt pellets was not really viable  I think they are a brilliant tool for forced feminisation if there is to be no games.    I used AI to inform me, us. It’s also given Master some serious ‘weapons’    Pallets  offer several advantages over patches or injections for MtF hormone therapy, providing steady hormone release for 3-6 months with minimal daily effort.[medicalnewstoday +2] Steady Delivery Pellets dissolve gradually under the skin, delivering consistent estradiol levels directly into the bloodstream without the peaks/troughs of injections (which fluctuate weekly) or patches (which can detach or vary with skin absorption).     This mimics natural hormone production, potentially leading to smoother feminizing effaspects like fat redistribution and mood stability.[alluremedical +3] Convenience and Compliance  No daily patches to apply/change or weekly/biweekly injections— just a quick in-office insertion every few months, improving adherence for long-term therapy. Users often report preferring pellets for this set-it-and-forget-it approach over messier gels or adhesive issues with patches.[queerdoc +2]  Additional Benefits Bypasses liver processing (unlike pills), may enhance energy, libido, and bone protection with fewer applications overall. Note: Pellets are often compounded (off-label for estrogen HRT), so monitor levels with a specialist.   One key advantage of estrogen pellets is that once implanted, they continuously release hormones without interruption, essentially putting feminizing effaspects on “auto pilot.”    This means the therapy works steadily and reliably without daily effort or forgetting doses. Even if you wanted to stop temporarily, the hormone release will continue until the pellet naturally dissolves over months, ensuring consistent feminization throughout that period. This steady, long-term commitment can bring peace of mind for those seeking a smooth, hands-off approach to hormone therapy.   Over the first 6 months after estrogen pellet insertion in MtF hormone therapy, feminizing changes unfold gradually as the pellet releases hormones steadily (about 1/3 in month 1, tapering over time).[pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih +1] Months 1-3 Skin softens and becomes less oily within 3-6 weeks; breast buds/tenderness emerge by 2-6 weeks. Emotional shifts, reduced erections/ejaculation, decreased libido, and subtle mood improvements often start in 1-3 months, with early fat redistribution to hips/thighs.[transcare.ucsf +2]  Months 4-6 Breast growth continues (typically A-small B cup max for post-puberty starters); muscle mass decreases for a softer appearance; testicular atrophy and slower body/facial hair growth become noticeable. Monitor blood levels at 4-6 weeks for adjustments, as full early effaspects peak by month 6.     Using a chastity device alongside estrogen pellets in MtF HRT could accelerate permanent erectile dysfunction (ED) outcomes by preventing erections, leading to faster penile disuse atrophy and fibrosis from lack of blood flow and tissue oxygenation.[cagechastity +1] Mechanism HRT already reduces spontaneous erections; a well-fitted chastity cage b

  ClaimedMy name, Emiko, which means prosperous, beautiful child, has not helped, not a bit. It’s been a bad year. At 23 years old, I got my own place, moved all my stuff and had finally left my parents’ home. This seemed like a big step towards independence, made less scary as my parents were still close by and I would need them less and less. Several months later there was a horrible crash. My parents ripped away instantly. Still, there was my boyfriend of many years who was soon to be my fiancé. He was there for me, helped me through much of the hardest stuff, supported me when I needed it most. Several months later, instead of proposing as was expected, he dumped me and not your nice dinner, its-not-you, blah, blah. No, he dump me by text. Still there was my dog. I had loved this dog from when I was 5 years old. He was always there to take care of me and watch over me even when the world was scary. Several months later, as he was now living in pain, it was time to let him go too but how could I? He was the last person who cared for me. I had to do right by him and let him go peacefully. Yeah, it’s been a bad year.On this particular Saturday morning, as I lay in bed trying to build enough motivation to get out, the feelings of being disconnected, isolated and alienated, of not belonging, were overwhelming. This is something that had been steadily building through the year but was reaching a fever pitch. Sometimes we get so detached from the world around us there's no way for us to reattach ourself. The only hope is for someone to find you who will grab on and pull you back. All my attachment points seem to have disappeared or broken. I was drifting free. I wanted so much for someone to reach out, pull me back and reattach me to this world.My thoughts went back to a harebrained scheme that had been rattling around my head for some time — just give myself to the first person who would have me. It was a fast, simple solution to a problem I did not know how to solve. You’re gonna think this is crazy mostly because it is crazy but that morning, crazy was all I had. This wasn’t the first time I thought about this idea. In fits of fancy, I had even planned it out. It was based on a story I read called ‘Halloween’. The woman in the story had put herself out there for someone to claim and someone claimed her. I bought a nice leather collar which also fit my thigh, a matching 8 foot leather strap you might call a leash but it was really a lead and, just because I wanted my intensions to be clear, I bought a garter that said, ‘CLAIM ME’ in inch and a half capitol letters. Baker Beach, you know, the one with the beautiful view of the Golden Gate Bridge, has a section where clothing is optional. I’d go there, strip down to just those three items, stand there and wait. My body is nothing special. I don’t have a lot of boob or a lot of anything. I’m a tiny asian woman; shocking in San Francisco. People say everyone loves a tiny asian woman. How could anyone resist a freely available, totally naked, tiny asian woman? Well, they all did.It was getting late into the afternoon and would start getting cold soon. My isolation was now complete. I stood there all day, buck naked, offering myself to anyone who would take me and no one had even stop by to ask. Then a man walked towards me. I saw him earlier when he was heading down the beach. He had looked in my direction for some time, then walked passed like everyone else. Now, as he got closer, he looked right at the garter and just smiled.Deep inside me, I was a bit disappointed. Looking back at that moment, my fast thinking said he was older than I want, not built the way I want, not dressed the way I want, and truthfully, not tall like I want. None of that mattered at this point. I wanted to be wanted. I wanted to be connected. I needed to be claimed. “If you want me to stop at anytime, say kangaroo. If you understand what I’m telling you, say banana.” It seemed like every emotion was passing through me at that moment. Fear and longing where the strongest. Longing won out.“Banana”He opened the lock on the collar, dropping the keys, both of them, in his pocket. I was already shaking a bit. He strapped it around my neck, not too tight, and secured it with the lock. He removed the garter then unwound the lead from my waist and clipped it to the collar. There were no thoughts in my head but a certain calm washed over me. “How long have you been standing here?”“All day”“Did you reapply your sunscreen? You’re starting to look a bit red.”“I didn’t.”“Do you have aloe or something like it.”Without thinking through what was about to happen, I said there’s aloe in my bag. He got the aloe, put some in his hands and started to apply it. My mind was racing. I froze. Something like this was obviously gonna happen if things went to plan but I had never really played the fantasy out this far so this came as a bit of a shock. He started with my legs. He was not shy, taking his time, being thorough but not gratuitously lingering. He went all the way to the top but didn’t explicitly touch my pussy just brushing it to get the whole leg. I realized my pussy was tingly, all of me was, and that I was probably really wet. He did my arms, my face and neck, my back including my hips and ass. He continued to be thorough but not gratuitous and that did not change when he did my front starting at the shoulders, then to the top of my chest then to my tits, my belly and then put his hand above my mons and went right down between my legs. I got a little dizzy. This random man who I’ve known for 7 minutes just locked a collar around my neck, applied lotion to my entire naked body and I was just tingling with delight. He asked me if I was comfortable coming to his place downtown; he’d order a car. I said yes; I said yes? but also mentioned my place was walking distance from here and we could go there. He said great. I told him the address. He handed me my bag and started walking with a solid gr on the lead. I followed not even thinking about the fact that I was being lead down the s

Don't ask me for my number when we first chat   As a dominant myself, I have often encountered situations where people assume that just because I am dominant, I am always looking for new submissives and will readily share my personal information with anyone who asks. This could not be further from the truth. Being a dominant is not just about controlling and dominating others; it is also about respecting boundaries and building trust with a submissive partner.   When someone asks me for my number or contact information without even getting to know me, it not only shows a lack of respect for boundaries but also highlights a lack of understanding about the dynamics of a dominant-submissive relationship. As a dominant, I take the responsibility of my partner's physical and emotional well-being very seriously, and I cannot fulfill that responsibility with just anyone who asks for my number.   Another reason I am hesitant to give out my personal information to someone I have just met is that it takes time to build trust and establish a connection with a potential partner. BDSM is not just about physical acts; it involves a deep level of trust and understanding between partners. As a dominant, I need to know that my partner understands and respaspects my boundaries, and vice versa. This level of trust and understanding cannot be achieved through a simple exchange of phone numbers.   Moreover, just because I am a dominant does not mean I am always looking for new partners. Like anyone else, I have a life outside of BDSM and have other interests and responsibilities. Asking for my number without getting to know me first shows a lack of regard for my personal life and boundaries.   It is also essential to note that being a dominant does not mean that I am immune to rejection or unwanted advances. Just like anyone else, I have the right to choose who I want to engage with and who I do not. Asking for my number without even getting to know me is not only disrespectful but also puts me in an uncomfortable position.   In conclusion, just because someone identifies as a dominant does not mean they are always on the lookout for new partners or willing to share their personal information with strangers. As with any relationship, trust and mutual understanding take time to develop. So, if you are interested in getting to know a dominant, take the time to build a connection and respect their boundaries. Only then can you expect them to share their personal information with you.

This is a short story i wrote a couple of years ago . . Is your life really that empty? Maybe the best words I have ever spoken Is your life really that empty? That may be the best opening line since ‘.......I was born in 1518 in the village of Glenfinnan on the shores of Loch Shiel. And I am immortal'. In truth maybe not, but these words got me here, pressing keys on my pc’s keyboard about to tell my story. A good opening line, true, although not a good place to start my tale, so, where to begin? Who I am, where I was when I first saw her or the reason I spoke those words? Maybe to ground this thing would be best, I am male, a Dom, a sadist, not rich, not powerful, slightly artistic, getting to be older than I want to be living in a small suburb of a small city in the English Midlands. It was a Tuesday, early afternoon and I was on a coach going to Nottingham to check out an art gallery to see if they would exhibit, or sell, some pieces of my work. Don’t get all excited thinking I am a master painter or sculptor selling pieces for hundreds of thousands of pounds (yes pounds and not dollars) I sell my work for between £100 – 200 if I am lucky enough to find a buyer.Anyway, I first saw the girl, woman, standing on the platform along with others, waiting for our coach to arrive and noticed her because she fell into that style of female I like, slim, simple hair style, makeup tending towards the Goth, in jeans, ankle boots and a soft leather jacket and no handbag – simple pleases me. I am a good and sadistic Dom but I am no good at talking to females I do not know in vanilla situations so I took in her images, filed it under, ‘what a shame’ and then as the coach arrived I entered and walked to the back and sat down only to find she followed and sat in the seat in front of me on the other side of the isle. As we pulled out of the station I saw her take out a book, find her place, about a third of the way through, and begin to read. To say my mental image of her was shattered would be far too extreme but I was so disappointed in her. If she was vanilla it was such a pointless thing to read and if into my ‘lifestyle’ a really sad thing to read and I didn’t know which was worse. I tried to ignore her, and the book, as the minutes ticked by.  I watched houses and trees and cars pass by before we reached the dual carriageway, connecting the two cities, and the coach built up speed. I noticed all other passengers were seated nearer the front leaving at least seven rows of empty seats between us and them and I decided this was the universe telling me to do something – the universe seldom tells me to do things in case you were wondering. I moved across the back seat until I was slightly to her left but still behind her and said in a normal speaking voice, not too loud, not too quiet, “Is your life really that empty?"I accept this could be a very insulting thing to say to anyone especially a stranger on a bus but the words formed and so were spoken. She lifted her head from the book but did not turn around, I could see her face from where I sat and her mouth turned down slightly, not in a frown but in a puzzled thoughtful way and lowering the book to her knees she said, “Why do you say that?" "I am a Dom and a sadist”, I said although not sure why I was so truthful, “I don’t usually tell people as most do not understand.” I paused waiting to see what she would do or say. "I see.” Was all she said, which didn’t give me any sort of clue or guide to what I should do or say next.  "The book does not relate to the real world of BDSM, most of us are so normal we are as boring as vanilla folk.” I saw a smile come to her face at this so continued, “It is only when we play that many of us diverge from the norm, but I suppose the same could be said of golfers or those that go tenpin bowling every week.” She laughed at this; thank god.  "How do you dominate people then, do you do it with men or woman or both?” She did not turn around as she spoke.  "Before I answer that, have you tried anything in a fetish way; are you sub or Domme or both?"  "You would certainly call me vanilla I think. Everyone is reading the book so I thought I would too.” She paused for a heartbeat and then said, “I am not sure if I would like to submit to a man, I think I might giggle too much if I had to call someone Sir or Master."  "There is much rubbish talked about BDSM, you do not need to call him Sir if that is not what you want, I have little interest in a female calling me Sir unless it comes naturally to her at a time that seems correct to use it.  "BDSM is like real life, it is not a video game, it merely has a few given rules that vary as much as any vanilla couple’s rules vary, that and blindfolds and restraints obviously"  "Something else I would not like until I trusted him enough.” She said and added “How to you write a contract?"  "I am a sadist, I like a little fear in my play, if you trusted me, or knew me too well, could you really be scared of me? I thought this was a statement too far and wondered if I was trying to sabotage this conversation. “There is even more bullshit talked about contracts.  No contract is needed by 999 out of a 1000 couples. “I say ‘do you want to play’? You answer ‘I am new to this’, I say, ‘understood’. What more needs saying?"  I watched her face, and saw a small frown crease her brow, “Remember, you have the power to stop whatever is happening by simply saying a single word, it is easier to stop what is happening in a BDSM encounter than, say, trying to get rid of some half drunk moron in a nightclub who is likely not to take no for an answer. If I do something you do not like, it ends and the play stops, it is in the skill of the Dominant one to not make you say that word."  "I don’t understand,” she said, ”if you are dominant how could I stop you doing what you want especially if I am blindfolded or tied up?"  "Blindfolded, AND tied up” I said with a smile, “I said before, BDSM is real life, if you say the stop word and the dominant one continues that is assault, or as close to it as make no difference, BDSM does not give anyone the right to, umm, go too far."  The coach stopped and two elderly couples boarded and I watch with not a little ‘fear’ as they decided where to sit, the universe was still on my side and they sat side by side 5 rows in front of the girl.  We were well passed half way to the city and I didn’t know where the girl was going, the University of Nottingham Campus would be reached in 5 minutes or so and she could easily be a student there. So as the coach moved on I said.  "It is much easier to show you, show someone I mean, what happens in BDSM play than to describe it, just like if you were going on a first date in the vanilla world you go on it and see how things progress”.  She sat for a second and then put the book back in her pocket, “Thanks for the chat but I have to get off in a couple minutes."  "Ok, I don’t usually talk like this on buses with cute females I don’t know so thank you for not running away screaming.”  I reached into my pocket and took out my business card, “I am a body piercer so I have a card, if you are bored give me a ring and maybe I can answer some more questions or, if your curiosity gets stronger, I can show you my Domly skills.” I reached forward and placed the card on her left thigh, gently pressing the card down, before taking my hand away.  She looked at it before picking it up and putting it in her pocket, so I said “I have a normal house on a normal street, although I do have a play room of sorts with some interesting things to play on and with, so if you visit you do not have to walk though a dark wood to a haunted castle."  she took this the way I hoped and laughing said, “That’s a relief, but this is my stop so bye"  "Have fun.” I said as she stood and I was very impressed, not sure why though, that as she got up and walked down the coach she didn’t look back to see who I was.  The coach stopped she got off and I thought I would not see her again and wondered if I should get off too but my commonsense won out and I sat still as we moved off. “One day I will remember to ask a females name” I said to the back of the seat in front of me and again thought ‘what a shame.'  "Good morrow.” Yes, I oft times answer the phone this way. It is Thursday at 7pm and I have been relaxing watching a video on tv.  "Hello.” A female voice replies.  A silence follows which I do not interrupt wondering if this is another recorded message asking if I want to make a personal injury claim or some other tedious drivel. “I thought reality might be better than fiction."  "Ah.” I am a sadist of few words but sometimes one has to be a little helpful, “That is easy to do, come to my home, knock on the door and then enter, all other decisions will be made for you from that point. If you wish things to stop simple say ‘Lucifer’ and I will stop whatever I am doing.  "You do like us to be scared don’t you, I thought we would be discussing what and how, not simply being told to visit."  "When you visit it will be a time of physical interactions, this will not be a time for you to serve me as a slave or for silly things like sitting at my feet waiting for permission to get up or speak."  "Ok, I just come and that’s it, you don’t want to know more about me."  "You are cute, you want to know more about submission and you called me.   That is all I need, I told you before it is for me to play without making you want, or need, to stop me; so all will be found out when you are here."  "When can I come and should I wear something specific?"  "What an entertaining fem you are, if free tonight come at 9 pm or come tomorrow at the same hour. As for clothes, if you wish to please then, as I am a male; heels, hold ups or stockings or bare legs, a thong, g-spring or nothing. Short skirt, not denim (hate denim), shirt with buttons and a skimpy bra or no bra, a coat may be wise as it is somewhat cold out."  "You sound like you have said that before, I will see what I can do and tonight would be best in case I chicken out tomorrow."  I gave her my address and added, “For your safety, and to make you feel a little more relaxed, tell your best friend you are visiting me, say about piercing if that is easier, and tell them you will call when you arrive here too. You will be safe here but it is a wise thing to be careful."  "I will see you tonight then, what should I call you."  "I will be waiting, and for tonight you can call me Demon.” I clicked the end call icon on my mobile and laughed out loud, maybe not such a waste after all.  I never plan what I am going to do with a sub, that way leads to disappointment more times than not, so I sat and watched my video till a suitable time came for me to stop it. I have a small pack of dogs so I sent all of them to their beds and went upstairs to change.  I checked to see that my playroom was ready and laid out my toys on a rack then, with 30minutes to go, had a quick shower and dressed in my Domly garb.  I decided to start the evening off on a high pressure moment, to see how she reacted, so dressed in leather trousers, knee length New Rock boots, vest and full length leather coat, all in black, obviously. To complete the attire I had recently made some leather gloves and a full hood, both with spikes and piercings, and these I put on before going downstairs.  I have a hallway leading from my front door to my kitchen with a turn to the right half way down leading to my staircase. At five to nine I turned out the light in the hall, darkness fell, I turned on the kitchen light, closing the door so only a thin sliver of light could be seen, and bought to life my cd player to beginning playing Metallica’s Black album.  I stood silently at the foot of my stairs, a still, dark shadow in the darkness, calmly wondering if she would come or not.  What a good girl she was, just after the 2nd track, ‘Sad But True’, began there as a double tap on the door.  I clenched my fists as a smile, which could not be stopped, came to my lips when the door opened and closed.  I have a tiled floor and her heels, clicked nicely five times before she appeared looking ahead towards the light in front of her.  I stepped quickly forward making a short, high pitched hiss to encourage her to turn a little towards me. Her head turned and, I am sure, she caught a glimpse of a moving darkness just before my right hand clamped over her mouth and my left arm swung over her shoulder allowing my left hand to grip her right arm, pinning her closely to my body.  "You came.” I whispered in her ear.  Her body was shaking violently and I could feel her breath coming in short, sharp, warm pants against my fingers, “Good girl, now control your breathing and relax a little, I have you safe and sound.” As I said this I used my right hand to brush her hair back over her ear and gently kissed it and, moving my head a little, I bit the lobe with just a little pressure from my teeth.  Even in her present shaken state, or maybe because of it, she let out a deep, long sigh and I felt her weight lean into me as she slumped slightly in my arms. Another gentle kiss on her ear followed by words spoken so softly they were more felt than heard, “Clever girl, pleasure and pain, fear and ecstasy and yours to enjoy or stop with a single word.” It is wise to remind a novice of their safeword I find in case, in the excitement of the new, they forget.  My right hand moved slowly inside her coat, which was of a dark material and almost as long as mine. My fingers slipped between the buttons of her shirt to rest lightly on a shear and half cup bra. Her flesh was very warm as I pushed my index finger under the top of the material and rolled her nipple under it then, drawing back my nail, I scraped over the small budding flesh. Another sweet sigh came to my ears.  I thought one more experience, before going up stairs, so my hand left her breast and moved slowly up to her throat and then, with a strong push, I sent her to thud against the wall and tightened my grip.  In the darkness I saw her eyes open wide as she saw my hooded face for the first time, “Sensations,” I said, “it can be all about sensations.”  “Upstairs, time to show you what the book could not.”  I released her and let her lead the way upstairs and into my playroom, the light was on dimmer so added a little dungeony atmosphere. I touched her shoulder to stop her then walked further into the room and sat on a chair facing her.  “Take off your coat.” I said.  I suppose it might be entertaining, and pleasing, to give a short deion of the girl at this point.  As I mentioned she fell perfectly into what I consider appealing, 5ft 7inchs tall, give or take an inch, a size 8 (I know such things as I sell corsets too) with breasts that fit nicely into my hand. Her hair, this evening, was shoulder length, straight and black with, something like burgundy hints. Her face was perfect, as only teenager’s skin can be, without wrinkles or lines and wearing black eyeliner and dark red lipstick.  As she took off her coat, which was a deep purple, I saw she was wearing a red shirt with full sleeves, a soft cotton skirt of a darker red that came to mid thigh, black fishnets and black, ankle boots, maybe, the same as on the first occasion I saw her.  “Hold-up’s or stockings? I asked, “show, don’t tell”  “You really don’t like small talk.” She said and lifted the hem of her skirt to show the lacy elasticated top of hold-ups.  “In case you do not know what these things are,” I waved my left hand to indicate my play furniture, “That is a St. Andrew’s Cross, a simple why to hold you safely, and securely, when being flogged; many like it this way, Dom and sub.  That is a spanking bench, you can lean against it or kneel on the lower cushion, also a nice height to fuck on. I have a pony, which is easier to show you it use than explain; maybe if you visit again I will let you ride it. And on the wall behind you there are many securing points if the cross is not wanted.”  “Come and kneel between my legs.” I said unzipping my coat and opening my knees.  She did not move and looked a little uneasy, “Be a good girl and come here so I can put some cuffs on your wrists. Now she came forward and knelt down, sitting on her heels and placed her right hand on my thigh.  “A little show of defiance?” I asked and not waiting for an answer I put on a leather restraint.  “These were the first things I ever made when I came to the Life.” She watched me intently with a small smile as I fastened the strap then, when it was done, she gave me her left hand for the other restraint.  “Close your eyes.” I said and once they were shut I said, “Open your legs and put your hands behind your back.” Her skirt rose up and I could see pale skin above the fishnets as she obeyed. I reached down and gently pulled my nails along her inner thigh and then sat back to look at her.  “In a few moments I will use some of my toys on you, I will begin with a soft toy and use it gently but then I will change it and use another type of toy and change again and each change will mean more sensation until it brings pain and maybe ecstasy”  I picked up a blindfold and told her to open her eyes and come closer. Once it covered her pretty blue eyes I told her to give me her hand and to stand up.  “Take off your skirt and give it to me.” She pulled down the zip at her hip and climbed out of the skirt. She wore a thin red g-string which was mostly lace and very seethough.  “Give me your right hand.” She did and I placed it on my left shoulder, “Now give me your right foot so I can add an ankle cuff. “Now your left.” Once the other restraint was on I ran my hand along the underside of her leg, over her hold-ups, across skin and gently touched the g-string with my finger tips.  I lifted her foot off my knee and, standing up, led her back to my flogging wall.  “As this is your first time I will let you keep your arms down by your side, I will still tie them as don’t want you covering yourself, but it is a little more comfortable this way. First though I need to do this.” I unbuttoned her shirt and took it off her compliant body. Her bra matched her g-string, cut low letting half a nipple show above both cups. I lifted out her left breast and sucked hard on her nipple pinching it between thumb and forefinger as I let it fall from my mouth, forcing a gasp of pain, or pleasure, from her lips.  I tied red rope to her left wrist restraint securing her hand about 6 inched from her side then did the same with her right wrist, then, before continuing and because she could no longer see me, I removed my hood and coat. I knelt in front of her and kissed her navel before tying a rope to her left ankle restraint and then her right, forcing her legs almost three feet apart  I sat back on my boot heels and looked at her, chest rising and falling quickly as she breathed in short, shallow breaths, one nipple, very pink, hard rested over the top of red material and moving down to more red material, wet and slick as her body, and mind, responded to stimuli physical and mental.  “This is a suede flogger.” I said beginning to gentle swing it in a figure of eight so that its movement caused a breeze that caressed her skin; goosebumps appeared over her arms.  I took half a step closer and the 18 tails brushed against flesh creating delicate slapping sounds. Downwards over left breast then right breast, from shoulder to nipple then, with a slight change of action, from hip to navel, left then right with not too much force, letting the suede tails move across skin once or twice a second.  I took another half step increasing the speed of my swing and the impact now made a very nice sharp sound. An added bonus, for me anyway, was that her hidden nipple had been forced out by the flogging action and the tails hit each pink morsel on each pass of the flogger.  Her skin was turning pink so I stopped and, discarding my flogger, ran my hands over her gently, creating marks with my nails and feeling the warmth I had created.  I have a very sharp dagger, broad of blade and 12 inches long in my playroom, I unsheathed it and laid the cold blade on her left breast, a nice intake of breath was my reward. I moved the edge across her breasts and under the right strap of her bra. A quick upwards pull and the strap split in two, a reverse journey, with a little more pressure this time, ended in another strap cut through. I reached behind her to unclipped the strap and her head came forward to rest against my neck and I felt a gentle kiss alight there. The clip opened (yes I can do this one handed) and felt the bra fall to the floor.  “More.” Was the single word she breathed against my neck.  “Obviously, little one.” My reply.  3 fingers of my right hand moved up quickly to slap the red material of her g-string, ‘very wet indeed’ I thought as I stepped back and reached for my red and black 36tail flogger.  Now, as the multi tails hit, her muscles twitched and small panted sighs came from her lips. Heavy, thudding hits moved a breast with each contact and made a wonderful sound as they hit her flat stomach, only a couple minutes of this and her skin was red and she was dancing on her toes with each hit  I stopped and dropped the flogger into my play bag and stood still simply looking at her, I had a strong, and strange, urge to untie her and carry her to my bedroom and gently make love to her for she looked so innocent and young tied against my wall. I had an overwhelming desire to ‘comfort, no wrong word, worship her was much closer to the mark.  Her head tilted to the left, as though listening for me, and then said, “Demon: Sir? Is everything alright?”  A slow smile returned to my lips and, stepping forward, slapped down hard on her left breast stinging the fingers of my hand. She cried out in pain and, no doubt, shock and her blind eyes looked down to her hurting flesh as her hand tried to reach up to ease the sensation  "All is just as it should be.” I said, “One more toy and then you can turn around for a time.”  I have two toys I call ‘little and big sister’, little sis is a whip flogger with a jointed tail section joining 8 shortish leather tails to the main body of the whip, very flicky and stingy; perfect for nipples and caressing g-strings with touches of fire.  Following the heavy beat from the music, heard and felt from downstairs, I flicked the tails at her legs, aiming just above her knees and, with a strong wrist action, moved the tails slowly upwards, hitting one leg then the other. I was tempted to aim at that small piece of red material but did not want to risk her stopping the play. I, therefore, moved outwards as I got higher and then continued moving towards her navel and up over her breasts. I was rewarded with many twitches, sighs and seeing her hands clenching and unclenching.  I pushed this play as much as I dared, as I love the way this toy touches nipples with fiery kisses, so I watching her face and body intently, looking for the moment when her strength, courage, tolerance or, god forbid, boredom got the better of her.  She was shaking her head from side to side, facing the heavens her mouth open sucking in air as though drowning, so I slowed my swings and eased off the pressure until finally I stopped.  Throwing the toy in to my bag I put my arms around her and pulled her to me, after a moment I raked my nails down her back – sensation upon sensation without time to recover or relax into a lessened state of awareness  “If you do not want this just says no, other things can still continue.” I said and slipped 2 fingers under her g-string and into her wet, warm cunt.  She almost screamed as she thrust her hips forward on to my hand so, smiling (being a sadist makes me smile a great deal), I thrust my fingers into her letting my palm thud into her clit.  I am a Dom, a sadist and I love to inflict pain but I do not like receiving it, so I had an entertaining decision to make for, as my fingers continued to make her body shake and quiver, her mouth found my shoulder and her teeth found my flesh and she bit me as the orgasm, I knew was coming, racked her body.  I added a finger and speed and as her groaning breaths moved against my skin I almost forgot my tortured flesh until she cried out, releasing her hold on me. As her body danced in uncontrolled spasms while waves of orgasm rippled through her the pain in my shoulder doubled up giving me an incentive to reinforce the speed and strength of my fingers lifting her onto her very toes.  “Oh god, stop please stop, for fuck sake stop, god oh god oh god.” Such sweet words tripped continually from her gasping mouth, and like the good Dom I am, I continued, She had arched her back, a beautiful human sculpture curving from toe tip to crown of head resting on the wall with nipples pointing to the sky,  I bent down and bit into her left nipple, teeth clamping hard, head pulling back and lips clamped to allow me to suck hard and long.  I felt a sudden explosion of hot wetness on my hand and she screamed in one long wild cry, second after second her scream continued  as my fingers and teeth did their work, “Demon, Lord, Sir, please, please stop.” she begged as the scream finally died  I stopped my fingers movement but left them buried inside her, releasing her nipple I supported her weight with my left arm as she straightened up to rest against the wall behind her. My fingers rolled over each other in the warmth of her cunt as I slowly withdrew them.  “Open your mouth”, I said, “You have made a mess on my hand.” This she did and as I placed my fingers close to her lips her tongue came out and eagerly licked them clean of her unexpected reaction. “Good girl.” I said as I watched her clean my hand.  “A slight rest, little one, then we will continue with more toys if you still wish it.” I watched her face hoping she would not want to stop. She said nothing as her breathing slowed. I asked, “Would you like some cold water?” With a slight nod of her head I said, “Stay still while I am gone, it will be only seconds but continue to rest against the wall your legs may not want to obey you if asked to do more than stand still.”  On impulse I gentle kissed her lips, tasting her cunt on them, before leaving to run cold water into a glass, returning I let her sip for a few moments until the glass was almost empty.  I placed my right hand, cold from holding the glass, against her cheek and let it travel over her skin to her shoulder then down her arm to reach the restraint. As I untied the rope I said, “I am not trying to break you, little one, I am not trying to release your hidden goddess or any other such sad drivel, I seek only to let you know yourself, your limits, your desires and allow you the freedom to enjoy and act on them.”  With the last rope untied and kneeling in front of her – I am worshipping again I thought to myself - I ran my hands up her legs and under the thin straps of her g-string and then slowly pulled them down her legs until she obediently lifted her right foot, then her left, to allow me to remove them.  I thought for a second or two, artistic considerations my only concern (sometimes my mind takes little detours) and then, making a decision, I removed her boots, ankle restraints then hold ups making sure my hands travelled slowly down her legs as I did so.  Naked, the first time is always so uniquely special, it is a shame how familiarity can diminish the beautiful sometimes - much too deep – maybe tis the fault of Metallica’s ‘Nothing Else Matters’ which is now playing.  No tattoos, no body piercings, (maybe I can add a piece of jewellery so she will never forget me) a tiny scar above her right knee, cunt, now swollen and pink, clean shaven, her skin red with a few subtle marks remaining from the flogging. Worshipping indeed, it is a good thing she wears a blindfold.  I stand and, taking her hand, pull her away from the wall, “Time to turn around,” I say, “Wait”  I leaned a 10 foot piece of wood, 10 inches wide by 2inches thick, against the flogging wall where she had been standing and then placed her hand on it, “Lean on this, it will hold your weight do not worry. It is best if you rest your head on your hands as this get your arms away from the flogger’s tails”  I caressed her back with my nails, leaving swirlling marks in her skin, “I have 2 toys like the ones you have felt, then others that are more severe, twin tailed straps in leather and rubber and then whips and for your arse I have paddles and a horse crop. You may be surprised how much you will like your back being flogged but I would hate for your front to feel left out”  Resting my weight against the full length of her body, crushing her against the hard wood, I reached around to attach a butterfly clamp to her right nipple and she cried out a little, which was pleasing, as it bit. I attached the other to her left nipple and said, “There is a chain between them, do not pull away from the wood or you will not enjoy the result.”  ‘Big Sister’ is a flogger with 12 plaited, leather tails about 36inch in total length, I stood behind her and, again using the typical figure 8 action, began to touch her skin, very gently to start and at a slow speed too.  Building up speed and strength over a couple of minutes she began to make sweet music of sighs and little cries, the tails hit with delicious sharp sounds of their own as I began to punctuate the pattern of swings by sending much stronger whip like flicks at her arse, which, soon made her tense her muscles in anticipation of the next strike.I laid this toy down and picked up my purple and black Cougar (a longer 12 tail leather cat with 4in leather thongs at each tail end). I began again using this new toy in the same place and in the same pattern but then moved to my left, continuing to hit as I moved.  Once I stood level with her shoulder and about a stride from her I changed the way I used the Cougar. I now brought it down in single strokes, striking from shoulder blade to shoulder blade and moving down her back to her arse using much more strength especially when connecting, horizontally, on her reddening arse cheeks.  I could see her face as I stuck, and with each hit her teeth bit into her bottom lip. I said, continuing to hit, “Your choice, 12 hard strokes to upper back or arse?” she did not reply for a couple of seconds so I added, “And then I will take the clamps of your nipples.”  “Bum” she replied so I hit her hard on her shoulders and said “Bum, what”  “Bum, Sir” she said quickly after a gasp  “I was expecting a ‘please’, but Sir will do.” And then added, “count them as I hit in case I forgot how many and have to start again.”  She did as was told and by the time she got to 12 her voice was shaking as the strikes had gotten harder, “Good girl,“ I said and throwing the Cougar onto my bag I rubbed her back running hands over slight welts in her skin. Standing behind her I kneeded her arse for half a minute to ease the sting and then moved to kneel by her head.  “A new sensation now, what fun this will be.” I could see her face react as she tried to work out what I meant, “Your sweet, poor, tortured nipple hurt when the clamp went on but now is almost bearable. But when I take it off, new blood with rush back in, nerves will awaken and you will have an experience to file away and fear for the next time. Rubbing it will greatly ease the pain but do not rub it until I say you can.”  I held the clamp and because I am a sadist I twisted it first with a gentle tug, she squealed loudly, “Sorry little one, I just wanted to make sure you remember my words.” I pushed and the clamp opens, her nipple sticking to it for a second before coming free.  Her mouth opened and she sucked air in in gasps as the pain returned to her pink flesh, it was still flattened from the clamp’s pressure and I waited for a count of 5 then said, “You may rub it now.”  Quickly her right hand reached under her and he caressed her breast and nipple, a most rewarding sight. I let this go on for a short time still holding the removed clamp.  “Now then, time to repeat this joy. You get a choice.” I released my hold on the removed clamp and it swung down freely to tug gently on her other nipple, another squeal; being a sadist is fun indeed.  “You can give me a reward, for all my kind attention, and rub your nipple straight away or you must count 60 seconds before I let you rub after it comes off.”  In a most sweet and quiet voice she asked, “What reward, Sir?”  I stood and stepped slightly forward so my leather trousers just touched her upper arm.  ”You can open your mouth.”  “I don’t think I can count to 60, Sir, so the reward is wiser.” I noticed she was smiling and as I pulled down my zip I said, “I must be doing something wrong if you are still smiling. Open.”  I slipped my prick into her hot mouth and, leaning over her, put my left hand between her shoulder blades ready to release the remaining clamp. I closed my eyes as her head began to move and I felt her suck and bite on my, most entertained, cock. “Let me know when you want the clamp off and I will quickly remove it for you to ease the pain”.  Her left hand had found its way between my legs and was holding my left thigh, gently pulling me towards her in time with her head movements. Her right hand she lifted and laid, palm up, on her back, I thought, so I had easy access to the remaining clamp.  After a very pleasing minute or two she took her mouth off me and said ‘now’ and returned to my ‘reward’. Reaching over I pressed in the clamp and pulled it off dropping them to the floor. I heard, and felt on my prick, her squeal as she sucked harder on me taking my prick to the back of her throat, her left hand pulling me in and holding me there though her right hand did not leave her back.  Her squeal became a mauling sound as her body began to shiver and only after about 30 seconds did her right hand finally move and I saw her massaging her right breast. I may be a Dom and a sadist but this sight, with this ‘attention, was too much (I am a male after all) so I pulled myself from her mouth and looked at the ceiling for a few seconds. This only just did its purpose as once my prick was out of her mouth the sounds she then made, as her orgasm came and diminished, could have deflowered a priest.  Fighting an almost overpowering desire to put my prick back in to her, anywhere in her, I finally put it back in my trousers and pulled up my zip – will power, such a pain in the arse at times.  I went to my bag and found my leg spreader, a 10mm bar of mild steel I had fashioned a few years before in the heat of a furnace - not unlike the forging of a new submissive I thought to myself. I found myself kneeling at her feet again as I replaced her ankle restraints and then secured these to the spreader bar, forcing her legs 30 inches apart. I made the mistake of looking up, and the sight of her open and inviting cunt almost made me change my mind about where I had put my prick.  There is a metal securing bolt at the top of the plank of wood so moving to stand by her head I took her hands and tied them to it so she was stretched along the wood’s length.  “The toys from now on will be much more intense?” I said. “I will use each for a minute or so but with each change they will get a little harsher. You already have pretty marks on your skin but these toys will leave better ones that will last for a few days, shall I begin?”  “Yes, My Demon.” she whispered and I saw her grip the ropes that tied her hands.  I take a red and black leather flog with twin, 8 inch, tails and began it strike her back, moving around her, watching her muscles twitch as the stinging leather hit, from neck to arse, leaving growing welts on her skin.  I hit with a constant strength as I moved from her left side to her right and back again until I was back at my starting position where I took a step closer to her and, reaching, sent the tails around her ribs to contact with her softly hanging breast. Her back arched and she screamed in a short feral explosion.  I dropped the flogger and, as she clenched her teeth, grabbed the hurt breast and squeezed it in my fist, “If you are expecting one thing the unexpected is so much better.” I said changing my hold on her flesh and rolling the nipple between thumb and finger.  I saw a tear appear under her blindfold so asked, “Do I continue, you remember the word to end this?”  I could see her think and then she said, “I remember but I don’t know, I think, I think I want to say stop.”  “ok, I will continue with a different sensation, use the word when you know you are sure about ending things.”  I untied her hands, along with one end of the spreader bar then said, helping her stand up, “I just need you to turn around and lay back on the wood.”  She was a little shaky as she stood so putting my arm around her I held her tight. As I did this her head lifted up so I kissed her and was pleasantly surprised as her tongue forced its way into my mouth. The kiss continued and my hand found its way between her legs and a single finger entered her gently slipping in and out as she lifted her left leg to give me easier excess.  “Enough.” I said removing my finger and mouth from her body, I helped her back onto the sloping wood and again tied her hands high above her head, to the securing bolt, I then secured the spreader bar between the ankle restraints under the wood. The bar has a loop at midpoint and to this I tied a length of rope, the other end I tied to the flogging wall, pulling her feet back under her arse and lifting her cunt high as her hips where pulled wide due to the width of the plank.  I sat on the chair I had used earlier and took off my boots and then trousers. I found a condom and with a little concentration, put it on then selected a horse crop, which had two short leather tails about 2 inches long, and moved to stand at the foot of the wood plank.  With small, sharp movements of my wrist I sent the tails across her nipples, first one then the other, hitting 10 or 12 times in a staccato rhythm then changing the target to hit once between her legs, on soft pink lips which stood, unexpectantly, open. I repeated this 3 or 4 times until I judged I had risked enough and she had had enough.  I moved to stand by her side and, while I stroked her body from nipple to inner thigh, I whispered in her ear, “Some do not think fucking is part of BDSM so I shall ask if you wished to be fucked before I do it as part of this experience.”  “Yes, Sir,” She said with a small smile. “or, Yes Please if you prefer.”  I untied her hands and she let her arms hang down at her side as I lifted my right leg over the plank so my prick was an inch or two from her and said, “Do not be cheeky, little one, you are still tied and just because I will be fucking you does not mean it will be the only sensation you will have  I inched forward and, pushing down on the end of my prick I slowly move inside her and like a good girl she pushed herself deeper onto me. I stood still, prick buried in warmth, and using the crop’s leather tails drew sensual trails across her skin from nipple to nipple to navel to clit and back again. Within a minute she raised her hands and held them again my hips as she began to move on my prick, drawing herself off and then pushing down to rub her clit against my groin as I stood immobile, her breathing began to get faster and, as her nails began to dig in, I saw the growing need she had for me to move inside her. Realising the moment had arrived I rested the crop across her belly and, putting a hand on each of her breasts, leaned down to kiss her ear.  My full weight was pressing down on her, crushing nipples against ribs through the flesh of her breasts. I thrust into her, my movement, adding more pressure and pain, caused her to groan loudly, “I will fuck you for as long as you stand the pain.” I whispered and, pushing myself up on to straight arms, continued to fuck her going as deep and fast as her mirrowing movements allowed.  My breathing was becoming fast as she placed her hands over mine and I saw her dig her nails deep into the soft flesh of her breasts between my fingers, ‘that is unexpected’ I thought to myself and took my left hand away to see what she would do.  Her hands squeezed and twisted her flesh, raking her nails across her erect nipple leaving lines as red as those I had given from my flogging.  “Harder.” A single word, she said, between gasping breathes as she reached for my left hand.  Making my hands into fists I pressed my knuckles into her breasts as her hands returned to my hips.  I fucked and forced my weight onto her as a building pain built in my hips under her hands, looking down I saw a bright red drop of blood on my skin, red lines, from this dear girl’s nails, mirroring her own marks; a small price to pay  I did not think I would be able to make her cum, or decide to stop this pain, before I came but suddenly her head thrashed from side to side and the raking of my skin stopped. She made no sound, did not breathe as her fingers spread wide and muscles moved in slow waves under the tight skin of her stomach.  I came a second later and, fighting the mix of pain and pleasure in the tip of my prick, continued to thrust into her until her movements calmed down.  A second’s pause, heart pounding, breathing trying to fill my lungs, vision clearing from an unnoticed unfocused gaze, I stand and let my prick die a little inside her.  I grasped the wood plank on either side of her neck and, leaning down, kiss her lightly on the lips. I gently removed the blindfold and threw it onto the floor.  Her eyes remain closed as I pushed myself up to stand looking down at her – fuck she was beautiful.  Her eyes opened slightly, they shine, a small smile comes to her lips and letting her arms fall to her side she closes her eyes again as the smile grows bigger.  Sadly, oh so very sadly, I pull myself out of her and stepping over the wooden plank sit down on the chair because my legs are shaking in a most entertaining fashion.  We stayed like that for about 5 minutes, her smiles, fading then bursting out bigger than before as the minutes pass.  I pulled on my trousers, discarding the condom into a bin, but remained barefooted as I moved to her shackled feet. I knelt down - I seemed to always be on my knees in front of her – and unbuckled the nearest restraint. Reaching under the plank I finally managed to unbuckle the other and, as if by magic, found myself within reach of her glistening cunt.  Like the nice Dom I am I lowered my head and, after one long, slow lick, bit gently into her soft pick lips, she tasted sweet, naturally and with a hint of strawberry from my used condom.  After a few seconds I stood going to her side to help her stand but as I got close she reached out and put the fingers of her left hand in to my unzipped trousers. I stopped and she pulled out my prick and, with a gentle tug, she led me back to her mouth, slow and gentle this time she held me with soft licks and sucks.  With eyes closed, her right hand moved slowly to go between her legs, with slow strokes, she put two fingers inside her.  I am old, but luckily not that old, for as I watched and felt her actions my prick came back to life. I took in what she was doing and let myself react as my body wished with no attempt at self control.  With a full prick in her mouth her fingers moved faster and, again, erotic moans began to come from her mouth vibrating on my shaft.  “I am going to cum.” I said giving her time to withdraw her mouth, if she wished, but she sucked as before and her fingers gained speed and strength adding wet sounds to my already stimulated senses.  I had to grab, with equal strength and need, the plank for balance and her hair to pull her on to me as I came in four strong spasms. She sucked, swallowed and bit as I came and I could not stop a cry cascade from my lips which went, something like, ”fffuuucckkkking jeeeeeeesus fucking Christ” as I tried to pierce the back of her skull with my softening prick.  As I died again, this time in her mouth, she gently sucked and licked until after a minute or so she took her mouth away, looked up at me and said with a smile, “Hello, Demon, my name’s Amy.”  The End - i think?

All set with game players and time wasters and dream killers.   I don't lie, cheat or steal. I am looking for the right slave.  Correction, I am looking for a right connection and a decent human being who knows how to treat a woman, and wants to explore together.  A right male is MORE THAN ENOUGH to be by My side and in reasonable good time.  I am looking for a live in relationship, not email, phone or text. I'm dominant and that isn't going to change.  I feel no threat from a man who knows his mind and has the ability to speak up for himself and be a team player.  Welcome.  We can co-rule our own little world together. My mother lives with Me and has Alzheimer's.  You serve Me, you serve She.  You are with Me, you are with her. Be real and ready to communicate effectively and get to know one another in the flesh.   Be terrific in your own right.  I require a man who is strong enough to champion Me and I offer nothing less in return.   DON'T WASTE  MY  TIME.  

You are a set apart,State of the art,Work of art.That is written into my birth chart,To be your sexpot.To bask in your sunspotAnd become empty like a brain fart.To exist as your pleasurebot;Drive your applecartInto my fertile seedplot.Every single body partIs tailored to be your playspot.I yearn for your cum shotInto my honey pot,And for the squeeze of a slipknotThat will sting like Cupid's dartAnd for the most important partTo be unto you a decadent slave heart. ~dirtydarling

“Wrote this for someone who was hurting and I thought it could help others”   Your words don’t just echo pain—they scream with the rawness of someone who has survived what most could never endure. I hear you.  Every line you wrote feels like a cry from the heart of someone who hasn’t given up… not really. Not yet. You haven’t gone cold. You’re burning alive inside the armor you forged to protect yourself. And I know how heavy that armor gets when all you want is to be seen, held, claimed—not just physically, but soul-deep. That ache to surrender is sacred… and dangerous when placed in unworthy hands. So I don’t blame you for guarding it like treasure. Because it is treasure. But hear me: You weren’t made to be shattered and discarded. You were crafted to kneel in reverence, not fear. To be taken by a man strong enough to hold all of you—not just your submission, but your chaos, your fire, your questions, and even your retreat. So if you’re screaming inside, I want you to know—I don’t scare easy. I don’t run when things get hard. I don’t get quiet when emotions roar. I don’t flinch when the storm rolls in. You say you want someone to fight back when you push them away. I will. Not because I’m desperate—but because I know what it means to truly want someone who thinks she’s too much. You’re not too much. You’re just waiting for the right strength to meet your softness. The right discipline to guide your surrender. You don’t need to be perfect or ready. You just need to be willing—willing to not run the next time that flicker of hope shows itself again.

 SlutSnuggleButt