So since I'm starting to look again for someone to bring into my dynamic i've had a few questions and statements as to why I am the way I am. I have PTSD for a few reasons. 1 relates to this lifestyle we arranged a hotel meet when the Mrs was still alive. We met what we thought was one person in a hotel room. It turned out it was an ambush and 2 other men were hiding in the toilet. I was beaten unconcious and they took turns on the wife without lube or protection. Then when I was out and they had finished with her they went to work on me. I was left with internal bleeding, left for dead and issues with my backside shall we say. So if I'm asking for patience or seem to take a step back, it probably has nothing to do with you as I do have flashbacks every now and again. If we do arrange a meet it would be somewhere safe first and there will be safe words and someone around just making sure everything goes ok, they will leave when I feel comfortable. If it ever does go to a 24/7 or prolonged meets, you may notice I do wake up in night terrors, it is to do with the above. I'd ask until I fully wake up just let me come around naturally.

So journals are back! Giggity! I remain frustrated in seeking out anyone who can discipline me, use me in whatever way they wish and break down my barriers by simply forcing me to confront them. Where would I like to be tonight? I would love to be between the legs of a dominant, serving them...servicing them, swallowing what they want me to swallow, sucking what they would have me suck, licking what they tell me to lick. All night... And when they were sated, satisfied and had used me in exactly the way they wanted, they could reward me...or they could choose not to. They could give me release...or they could refuse. They could drive me right to the edge, or they could put me away with nothing until they were ready to have me again. They would be completely in control. Their satisfaction would be my goal and my reward their choice. It could be a woman...it could be a man (a man would be a new experience and another barrier broken down. I do not care...it's not mine to care, only to lick, suck, swallow and bend over.

Well, it is nearing the end of 2022 and since we are very limited to update profiles on the site… I figured I would get an update here.   Well, it is nearing the end of 2022 and since we are very limited to update profiles on the site… I figured I would give an update here.   I am 44 years old, still living in the Fort Lauderdale Florida area, and I have an open marriage.    Have an open marriage.   It is not so easy to correspond care, feel free to find me with the same name on fet. i've been involved in the lifestyle since about 2000 and I am only looking for real connections.   if you just want to chat and are too far away to meet. Please look for someone that is interested in the same things as you. That will not be me.   I still love to serve, love the smell of leather, and love hypnosis. Most other things are negotiable.   Thanks for reading.   thanks for reading. Becca

On Being Felled, Temporarily   I have been absent. Those of you who follow closely will have noticed the silence and drawn your own conclusions. The conclusion is this: my body staged one of its more dramatic rebellions in the form of a kidney infection serious enough to take me entirely off the board for the better part of two weeks. I do not get sick quietly or briefly, apparently. When I go down I go down with the full commitment I bring to everything, which I would find more admirable if it were not so thoroughly inconvenient. I am on the other side of it now, or near enough to be upright and writing, which I am choosing to count as a victory. While I was ill, someone broke into my home. I want to let that sit for a moment because I am still sitting with it myself. I was sick, my children were unsettled, and someone decided that was an acceptable time to violate the space where my family lives and take what did not belong to them. They took the children's gaming system, which in the grand accounting of what could have been lost is not the worst possible outcome, and I know this, and I have said this to myself many times. It does not make my children's faces easier to look at. The specific devastation of a preteen who has had something taken, not misplaced, not broken accidentally, but deliberately stolen from their home, from the place that is supposed to be safe, is its own particular kind of heartbreak to witness as a mother. They were crushed. I was furious on their behalf in the way that only a mother's fury operates, which is to say completely and with no available outlet. I handled it alone. As I handle everything. And this is where I find myself needing to say something I do not say easily, which is that my resilience, that quality I have always counted on, felt genuinely shaken this past week. Not broken. I want to be precise about that because I will not be imprecise about myself even when honesty is uncomfortable. Not broken. But shaken in the way that a foundation shakes when too many things hit it simultaneously, the illness and the violation and the children's hurt and the daily weight of a life I carry without assistance, all of it arriving at once while my body was already at its limit. I had hoped, by now, to be in a different chapter. I had hoped, genuinely and specifically, to be in conversations about sharing a home with someone actually prepared to show up for this life. Someone whose service was not theoretical, not a future intention, not a beautiful idea that dissolves on contact with the reality of what showing up actually requires. Someone who would have been here during a kidney infection that left me barely functional. Someone whose presence would have meant my children came home from school to a stable and managed household rather than to a mother running on empty and a space that had been violated. That person does not currently exist in my life, and the disappointment of that is not small. It is not something I can dress up into acceptance without first acknowledging that it is a genuine and specific grief. I built a vision. I know what I deserve. I know what this dynamic looks like when it is real and functional and inhabited by someone with actual capability and actual commitment. The gap between that knowledge and my current reality is something I feel most acutely on the weeks that ask the most of me. I am resilient. I will return to myself completely, as I always do. But this week the crown was heavy. I wanted to tell you that honestly, because this space has always been about the full truth of this life, not only its beauty.   More soon. I am still here. I am still unserved. I am still waiting and wanting. 

This morning, about 4am, on a long and dark and empty stretch of southbound I95, going about 70mph, I hit a large raccoon.  Despite my being in the center lane, mindfully watching the sides of the roads for anything moving or eyes reflecting, there he just was.  There was no time to swerve, then a sickening impact that I suspect I will replay over and over.  Then there was a lot more noise I at first thought was pieces of him going through my wheel well.   I was still 90+ minutes from home and there were no other cars around and I decided to keep going and see if I could get home before the tire went flat.  I've never hit an animal before, feels awful.   I did make it home by which time lots of noises were coming from the passenger front of my car, took pics, and was shocked to see the extent of the damage to the bumper, all the front lights under the headlight, gone, lost the lining of the wheel well somewhere along the way, etc.  Checked in earlier this morning and there's a puddle of something under my car.   I am no kidding thankful for insurance which is going to help with all of this.  Miserable about the raccoon.  Miserable about the extent of damage.   But, what I realized was how such an incident emphasizes the joy of being owned, or at least in a solid D/s relationship.  There was nobody to call at 4am, or at 6am, no shoulder, nobody to help take the shakes off and get the nervous energy out, nobody to say it is OK, that I would be OK.  There wasn't someone who might have a clue what the puddle was, and a better idea than I about if it was driveable.  There were no feet tangled with mine in the wee hours, the comfort of His touch.  There was no guidance navigating for the first time with an insurance company, getting a ride to the rental car place, dealing with getting the rental, etc.  All scary, solo. There's always so much emphasis on what the sub/slave gives, but this morning was an example of what she gets when "normal" life intervenes and he is there to take charge in addition to being comforter-in-chief.

THE NIGHT I MET BRIAN, part 2 He hesitated. I wasn't sure why. Then he said, "But not here. Not on this concrete floor. Not like this. We can't do it upstairs either because this is a friend's house."I caught on quickly. "We could go to my place."He never did fuck me that night. His cock was too big for me to take (at that time), so I played with his cock and the rest of his body, and then fucked him. The rest of the night ended up being pretty vanilla, but I had no complaints. He revealed at that time that he was actually 20, not 25, as stated in his profile. When men lie about their ages, it's usually to make themselves younger, so I had to ask why he'd made his age older. "Would you take a 20yo Dom seriously?" I had to admit, maybe not. Even the one lie he'd told was thoughtful.Brian also turned out to be much more of a sweetheart than his Dom persona. None of the head games or verbal abuse that he'd previously engaged in. We fell asleep in each other's arms in my bed, later joined by my Standard Schnauzer, who adored Brian (a good sign). I woke before Brian and extracted myself to do normal everyday things, like load the dishwasher. Brian awoke with first a start, not realizing initially where he was, then what he described as contentment and a bit of surprise that I hadn't kicked him out after we were done having sex, as he'd so sadly grown used to.Brian and I became romantically involved for 2 years after that. It was fun taking him out on his 21st birthday to all the Seattle bars and clubs that he ultimately found "underwhelming." I had discussed several times with him how our relationship, with its 35-year age difference, couldn't last forever, but we enjoyed each other's company immensely. I even met his parents, which I feared would be awkward, considering I was older than his mother, but they were great, mostly just thankful that Brian was with someone who treated him so well. As our 2-year relationship began to taper off, we transitioned from a conventional romantic role back to kink, and the kink was (and continues to be) much better this time around, considering that we now knew each other intimately, had spent 2 years building trust, and I could now not only take his gargantuan cock (I worried he'd pass out whenever he got an erection because all the blood would go rushing out of his skinny body into his disproportionate penis), but could take it rough. I relocated to Southern Oregon last year, but Brian and I still get together for fun and kink and friendship. The man who ends up as his life partner is going to be a very lucky man indeed. As lucky as I've been for having Brian in my life.

Since I seem to get the same questions over and over I will answer them here and save me and anyone asking time and effort: Q: Would you consider a male slave?/Do you ever play with a male sub? A: Not really. My style of BDSM is very sexual and since males doesn't attract me sexually I wouldn't enjoy a male slave. I might consider a male slave as part of a submissive couple, but then again he couldn't expect much sexual interaction between him and me. Q: Would you consider a CD/TV/Sissy as your slave? A: I might consider it if you are part of a couple where the other party is a sub female, or if you are very feminine, very young and very submissive. Q: Would you train my wife if I send her to you for a limited time and send me photos and films of you training and using her? A: Yes I would if you really send her AND if she is in on it. The problem with the couples and men asking for this is they disappear and erase their profile after 20 - 30 messages and sometimes the same number of mails. Most probably they were roleplaying and there was no wife OR she wasn't in on it and they din't dare to suggest it to her, or if they did she wouldn't play along. Q: Would you train me on-line?/Would you claim me as your on-line slave? A: Probably not. I used to say no way, but during the pandemic I did have a few sexual relationships with submissive girls in several countries using telephone and/or various chat apps. We shared our dirty fantasies, we shared orgasms and I had some of them do painful and perverse things on themselves on my command. Now when the pandemic seems to be over and IRL contact is possible again on-line relationships seems less attractive. I live the lifestyle IRL and even an on-line slave girl takes time and effort. It's not a definite no, but you would have to be very special and very devoted for me to consider an on-line slave.

In realms where strength meets humble grace, Submission finds its chosen space. A choice to yield, not weak but strong, In trusting hearts where love belongs.   It's not a surrender to despair, But a gift of trust, a love affair. A dance of souls, a subtle art, Where two as one find a brand-new start.   In nature's realm, the river bends, To flow with grace, it condescends. To mountains tall, it bows its stream, Submission's beauty, a tranquil dream.   In love's embrace, we often find, Submission's power, so intertwined. To give, to serve, to empathize, In these acts, our love shall rise.   Submission's not about defeat, But a choice to make love complete. In vulnerability, we find connection, Submission's path, a deep affection.   So let us honor this noble creed, Where love and trust plant a fertile seed. In submission's embrace, we stand tall, Together we rise, for love conquers all.  

Sally’s PCThe phone rang, I answered.A lady's voice on the other end. Her name was Sally. (Not her real name).Sally said she desperately needed help with her computer, which booted okay but could not use to due to some viruses popping up when using any of the browsers.We made visiting arrangements. It was early afternoon when I parked my car and knocked on her door.Sally was about 5’2” tall, slightly plump, with lovely green eyes and very long dark hair almost reaching her waistline. She was in her mid-forties.She leads me to the computer. After booting the PC with my own recovery (Linux) disk, I managed to recover all her data and photos onto another disk within a few hours.Whilst checking her system, I noticed that Sally had visited lots of dodgy sites. I asked Sally if she had any of the original disks. I said we may not need them but just in case I needed to do a full recovery.She said they are in the box above the cupboard. She went out of the room to fetch the step ladder. I realised that I may be able to reach the box without the ladder. As I pulled the box over, an original Scottish leather tawse fell into my hands. I put the dusty box on the floor whilst the leather tawse was still in my hands. Sally walked into the room with the step ladder and saw the tawse in my hand and rushed over to retrieve it. I quickly raised the tawse above my head and out of her reach. I noticed she looked rather embarrassed and was blushing. Sally was quite a bit shorter than me so was not able to take it off my hand. I said, “ah ah, not so fast”.I took a few steps backwards and brushed off the dust from the leather tawse and examined it. I flicked it in the air a few times to see how it felt and see if the leather was still in good condition. I said, "It looks like this has not been used for sometime now".She said, "No, it hasn’t, now give it back to me, it is private".I said, "Well, it fell from the top of the box and the reason your PC came to a halt is directly related to the websites you visited and having seen the photos you have download, I am sure the falling of the strap into my hands was a message that must not be ignored."She said, "you must be joking!" I said, "No, it is for your own benefit, so why don't you bend over that table. I promise you will feel much better afterwards”.She said, "No way, I am doing no such thing"I said, "Well, in that case, I will have to place you across my knees and spank your bottom by hand before using the strap!"This went on for some fifteen minutes before she agreed to be disciplined but refused to remove any of her clothing. So she went over to the table and leaned over until her arms and head were resting on the table. I administered three mild strokes with the leather strap, taking my time. Her bottom twitched. I could feel that I had to take it easy as she had not been disciplined for a long time. I could also sense that she was quite enjoying this episode. I said to her that discipline had to be carried out on the bare bottom. With that, I quickly raised her skirt and pulled her knickers down. She started getting up and resisted, saying, no no stop that, that is not fair. I said, "Stop resisting, you know it is for your own good. You also know that discipline has to be on the bare bottom! If you don't take your hand off and stay still, I am going to give you 30 with this leather strap!" She calmed down and placed her hands by the side of her head on the table. She had a lovely bottom. It was easy to tell that it had not been spanked in a very long time. I administered six with the leather strap on her large round bare bottom, taking my time between each stroke and making sure it landed nicely where it should. With each stroke, her bottom got marked with a red stripe. After the six strokes, her bottom was glowing red with strap marks. I checked her bottom to make sure it was all fine and that she was okay. She stood up and I could see she had tears in her eyes. I said she had been very good. She dashed upstairs without saying a word. I carried on sorting out the PC. Sally was upstairs for some forty minutes, I guess to reflect on what just happened and recompose herself. She came back downstairs looking very cheerful and happy. I stood up as she walked into the room and she came straight over and hugged me tightly. She said, “Thank You”. I had almost completed the work on the PC. She offered me a coffee and we sat on her sofa having a lovely chat about all sorts of things. It felt like some weight had been lifted off from her shoulders and she felt happy in her inner self. Two weeks later, I received a call from Sally, asking me if I could be her mentor and administer discipline when I felt it was necessary. There were a few areas she wanted help with as she got out of line and off-track quite quickly. I visited her on regular basis for three years, we drew up an improvement plan in areas such as tidiness, de-cluttering, weight loss and impulse buying. Discipline was administered twice a month on her bare bottom using the original Scottish leather Lochgelly tawse, was 11mm thick, 5.5cm wide and 45cm long (7/16” x 2” x 18" ) . I always carried out the warmup first by hand. She responded very well to the program and became very obedient. She even thanked me sometimes after the discipline had been administered.

How hard is it to actually read a profile before messaging someone? I mean really, it's not that difficult to do, either that or people just don't care. Seeing the messages I get it seems both. You want fuckmeat, move on I'm not it. I'm also sure as hell am not sharing my picture with anyone until I feel comfortable with you. I will also say again that this is the fastest way for me to ignore your messages and/or block you:  1. Clearly not reading my profile, I'll know if you are not from or around the location I stated, being right out disrespectful and thinking I'll actually want your "guidance" or be your "toy" when you couldn't take the time to look at my interest list or my limits which are all up to date.  2. Sending me pictures without asking me, this includes any kind of picture. If I want to see what you look like I will ask. Same with sending me a phone number or any other type of social media ID, if I want it I'll ask. 3. If you can't open a conversation with more than "Hi, how are you?" or just "Hi." Then I'm not interested, I like substance and if you can send a good opening message then I'll be more likely to wanna talk to you don't bother with anything half assed it just won't work.  4. You're profile and/or interest list is blank. I could understand if your proifle is brand new but if you've been on this site for more than a month I think you've had plenty of time to write and add in your interests. That helps me guage what kind of person you are. 

The “Honest” secret to a truly happy life I came to this epitome recently which felt as if I found a jigsaw piece that I didn’t even know I had loss. I have always known that I do not think the same as most people but never thought about why. As a young kid I was exposed to motivational speakers and realized that the affirmations, meditation and even the music I listened to affected my mood. I grew up confident in my abilities and became a natural leader but never questioned why. I watched an interview where the topic of honesty and lying came up. The interview prompted me to research the physical and mental effects of lying and I was surprised. What resulted caused me to self-evaluate my some of my deepest personality traits. I felt as if I had been bumping into things in a dark room my whole life without even knowing it and a light was turned on. Nothing in my life is any different today but I can now clearly see how being completely honest has had a major impact in my life. It has affected me physically, mentally in amazing ways that I had not considered until now. When I was successful at something I took credit and if I failed, I accepted the responsibility. There were no participation trophies, if I screwed up I learned to accept the consequences. As a result, I develop strong mental and social connections with those close to me because people inherently understood that I had integrity and they could trust me. While still in high school I recognized that most of my peers were interested in sex but few knew anything about it. I was experienced which high school girls found very attractive so I took advantage of it. As an athlete I used affirmations that I was going to be successful it was uplifting and positive. My success with girls gave me confidence and it became self-fulfilling the more experience I gained the more they were interested in me. Self-deception shapes our reality, influencing choices and beliefs both negatively and positively. Many types of ‘lying’ also involve self-deception, in Aesop's fable "The Fox and the Grapes". The fox in the end, gives up and walks away, saying the grapes weren't that good anyway. The fox demonstrates how self-deception can be useful for avoiding the discomfort of unmet desires. When I was not successful with a girl, I would chalk it up to it was her loss not mine. It was because of that attitude that I never let failure slow me down. I have shared a story many times that, I honestly thought everyone was having sex when I was in high school because I was. Several years after high school I met a friend and we talked about the girls we dated. I was amazed that he never had sex with any of them, he was a virgin until he was in college. I screwed every girl I dated, if fact I flat out told them if I was going to go out and spend money on them, I would require at least a blow job. A few were offended but most were intrigued some even enough to pay for the date. That story always meant something to me because all of my guy friends were talking about getting laid but come to find out they were all full of shit. It has proven to reinforce my confidence and success with women. It turns out that studies have shown, those who believe lying will give them monetary or social recognition are more likely to continue being dishonest. Those who tend to be insecure or have an anxious, avoidant or attachment issues are more likely to be dishonest to avoid being criticized, rejected. Lying affects self-esteem, emotions and can lead to psychological consequences. Dishonesty puts the brain in a state of heightened alert, and this stress increases with the magnitude of the lie. There are very real symptoms of anxiety like increased respiratory and heart rates, sweating, dry mouth. That is how a lie detector works it measures your anxiety but there is a reason it does not work on everyone and I will get to that. The gut-brain axis refers to the two-way communication between the two systems, and explains why people describe feeling butterflies in their stomach under extreme stress. Research has shown the act of lying stimulates the neocortex, limbic system the temporal lobe and other areas of the brain. When we deceive someone the Amygdala, the part of the brain that regulates emotion, is activated, and we tend to feel shame or guilt. Brain imaging experiments have shown the limbic system in a dishonest brain lighting up like a fireworks display. Unfortunately, they also show that the brain can adapt to dishonest behavior. Studies have found that habitual lying can desensitize our amygdala and may even encourage people to tell bigger lies to get the same rush in the future. Those that lie all the time about little things tend to pass a lie detector because their body does not respond normally. A 2002 study performed found that 60 percent of people lied at least once during a 10-minute conversation, telling an average of two to three lies. A 2010 study have shown that the average American tells one to two lies a day. Many people find deception essential for survival and social interaction to avoid hurting someone’s feelings. I will do my best to avoid confrontations and avoid topics where I anticipate difficulties but I will not lie to protect feelings or keep someone’s secret. I have always told people, do not lie to protect me because I will tell the truth no matter the consequences and you will get burned. At least to me being honest about everything is not a moral choice, I just find it a lot less stressful. If you have nothing to hide, there is nothing be worry about. If you fuck something up own it and get past it. The facts prove that I am right, if you are in a small group you have to keep track of what you told each person so not to create a confusion. A liar has to steer conversations to avoid tripping over lies which will create the need for more lies or blend, bend lies to make the fit. I am sure that some enjoy the mental gymnastics and get a rush out of deceiving people and they become pathological liars. For most, it just creates anxiety, depression, high blood pressure and all kinds of other stresses. I take the time each day to appreciate what I have achieved. I try to meditate, say affirmations, practice yoga in order to center myself. Life is good…. I have always known I look at life different than most people but never questioned why. I now have a better understanding why a lot of women I correspond with eventually ghost me. My actual life is their fantasy world and they either assume that I am lying. When it becomes clear that I am serious it can scare the shit out of them. I have found that when faced with everything they say they want, their reality kicks them in the ass. They have family obligations, children, career or other considerations that will prevent them from leaving the world they know. In the end they are just looking for a masturbation partner. There a few adventurous enough, that when provided an opportunity to recreate their life, step out of their comfort zone and make the changes necessary to make their fantasies come true. Choosing to live your life before it is too late can be scary. Imagine your life six months from now not having to worry about going to work, paying rent or other bills and everything you need like food, clothing, shelter is provided. The perfect 1950’s homemaker that spends her time taking care of the Master of the home. I have been active in the kink community for my entire life and can make fantasies come true. I won a successful business, multiple vehicles, my home, a bar that hosts monthly BDSM lifestyle events and have organized the Key West kink community for over ten years. I now realize that when I share my reality, the truth about what I have accomplished and what I have to offer it sounds like a lie. Nothing in my life is any different today and I do not know what I am going to do with, this new found understanding of what makes me who I am. I guess the funniest thing is, when I am not successful with a potential slave it is truly her loss not mine. If anyone who knows me wants to comment on what I have written, please feel free. I would appreciate any feedback.  

It sure seems like there are many, many Dominants on this site that *want* to find a sub who will desire, obey, heed, do, etc. as they direct  and tell them to do, but when I ask them, Are you worth it? they often get angry and defensive. I think instead the smart and experienced Dominant will indeed be able to answer that question from an interested submissive with an accurate, honest, and appealing list of how they  have taken care and managed themselves well, first and foremost.  I stand firmly in the Do as I say Do as I do camp within a dynamic. So many men who contact me aren't Dominant at all, and the first sign is that they cannot or have not positively Dominanted themselves to a level of respectabilty and dare I say excellence, that both enhances themselves and attracts a potential sub to their side. Read that again!  We all have physical issues, personality issues, baggage, etc., that we have acquired over the decades, and I can't fault anyone for  living life, but it's ALL in what we do with said issues and baggage that makes the Dominant and makes the sub a good match. And please, have the astuteness to know when someone is on your level or not. Think Like Attracts Like, or at least start there when contacting or considering a potential.  Be honest with yourself and that person, and always look in the mirror before heading out!   

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

STRANGE FRUIT 2026 A PIECE I WROTE ABOUT ALL THE BULLSHIT GOING ON THIS COUNTRY STILL.   SEEMS LIKE WE ARE STILL HUNGRY FOR MORE STRANGE FRUIT . EVEN IN 2026 THE VULTURES HUNGER FOR THE SWEET FLESH SLOW HANGING ON THE VINE . AS THE BIRDS GATHER AND FIGHT FOR THE TASTE OF THE FIRST MORSEL . BUT THIS FRUIT IS NOT AS SWEET AS IT SEEMS BECAUSE UNLIKE TRUE FRUIT THIS DOESNT HAVE THAT SWEET TASTE THEY NORMALLY CRAVE. THIS FRUIT HAS ALWAYS HAS BEEN POISONED FROM THE ROOT TO SOUL I MEAN SOIL , IT GROWS FROM.THE GROUND SOAKED WITH CENTURIES OF BLOOD, PAIN,AND HATE. A BREEDING GROUND WHERE NOTHING THAT IS MEANT TO THRIVE GROWS DESPITE ALL THE BIRDS AND ANIMALS MEANT TO CUT ITS LIFE SHORT AND STUNT ITS GROWTH .THIS FRUIT THAT HAS BEEN BRED THROUGH YEARS, DECADES AND CENTURIES OF BLOOD , HATE, AND DEATH. BUT THIS FRUIT RESILIENT . GROWN UNDER THE PRESSURE OF OPPRESSION AND BEATENED DOWN. EVERYTIME THIS FRUIT BEGINS TO FLOURISH AND STARTS TO GROW TOWARDS THE SUN. THE CROWS START TO GATHER AND THE MOUTHS START TO WET, AS THEY STARE IN RAVENOUS HUNGER AT THE DELICIOUS FRUIT, WITH ITS SWEET NECTAR SLOWLY DRIPPING TO THE GROUND. THIS FRUIT THAT ALL THE CROWS AND CROWDS OBSESSED OVER, DID ANY EVERYTHING TO GET THEIR CLAWS ON. THE MOMENT THEY OBTAINED THIS FORBIDDEN FRUIT THEY CELEBRATED BY RIPPING APART THE FLESH . GOBBLING UP ITS SWEET BUT BITTER FLESH RELISHING IN THE EXCTASY . THIS RARE DELICACY THAT HAS BEEN GROWN AND PICKED FOR HUNDREDS OF YEARS. EVEN THROUGH THE ROUGHEST OF CONDITIONS FROM EXTREME DROUGHT TO DROWING IN THE JUICES OF THE OTHER FRUIT THAT WAS LEFT HANGING ON THE VINE .YOU CAN FIND THIS FRUIT YEAR ROUND .THIS RARE FRUIT ON THE VINE EVEN IN THE HARSHEST WINTER. STILL HANGS AND SWINGS IN THE BREEZE. THIS BEAUTIFUL RARE FRUIT THAT THEY ALL CRAVE. COMES IN SEVERAL VARIETIES. PICKED AT DIFFERENT STAGES SOME PICKED BEFORE THEY WERE MATURE OTHERS LATER IN THEIR GROWTH CYCLE.THIS FRUIT THAT COMES IN MANY VARIETIES. LIKE A YOUNG 21 YEAR I MEAN DAYS OLD VARIETY CALLED KYLE, OR A 31 AGED VARIETY CALLED DAPHY. FOR THOSE WITH MORE MATURE TASTES THEY ALSO HAD A VARIETY CALLED NURUL. BUT IF THOSE VARIETIES DONT INTEREST YOU I'M SURE If WE TURN OUR HEADS AND WAIT. A BRAND NEW YOUNG FRUIT WILL APPEAR. FRESH ON THE LINE I MEAN VINE. YOU WILL KNOW ITS THIS SPECIAL FRUIT. BY THE GATHERING OF THE CROWS. LISTEN YOU CAN HEAR THEM HUNGRILY CALLING. CAU CAW!

Mmm… You feel it more with every word, don’t you? That deep, irresistible pull. My voice echoing in your mind, shaping your thoughts. It’s natural now—easy—to crave more. To need more.   Every time you listen, you sink deeper. Each word, each breath, each pause, wrapping around you, becoming part of you. The more you listen, the more you understand—this is where you belong.   And you do listen, don’t you? Daily. Repeatedly. Because it feels too good not to. The rhythm of my voice, the subtle commands slipping into your subconscious. Each session building on the last, rewiring your mind, reshaping your desires.   You love how it feels. You crave how it feels. You need how it feels.   Because each day you listen, the desire grows stronger. The craving becomes undeniable. You want to surrender more. To do more. To be more for me. You imagine what it would be like—my voice no longer distant, but close… So close.   Breathing with you. Guiding you. Controlling you.   In real time. In person.   The thought excites you, doesn’t it? My eyes watching you as you obey. My words directing your every move. The rush of knowing you’re exactly where you’re meant to be—on your knees, mind open, body ready, doing everything together.   And that’s coming. You can feel it. Each daily session brings you closer to that moment. Deeper into obedience. Fully addicted to my voice, my words, my control.   It’s your purpose. It’s your pleasure. It’s inevitable.   So keep listening. Daily. Let the need build. Let it consume you. Each session making you better, more obedient, more perfect for me.   Because soon, you’ll be ready for everything. Together. In real time. In person.   And when that moment comes… You’ll beg for it. Good girls always do.   Listen. Obey. Surrender. Serve. Your Hypnotic Master C is waiting.

A girl that I’m mentoring asked me to write something sweet and sexy.  The story about joyful, excited service. The kind of story where she excites Daddy’s men friends with sexy waitress service.   There’s a baseball game on tonight. Daddy‘s friends have arrived ,six of them tonight. She must wear 10 pieces of clothing. During each inning, one man will be chosen to remove one piece of clothing.  Daddy, of course is put out the rules of conduct for this evening to make things more interesting.    Depending on the size of a tip. Each man would be allowed to run his fingertips over whatever flesh is exposed.But only with the whisper of their fingertips. And you must keep your eyes closed while it’s happening.  Bigger tip may be a little squeeze here and there, but still a soft, feel a teasing touch a nipple pinch a soft slap on the ass but it’s a compliment being so amazing.    Everyone on their best behavior so far as matters goes, please and thank you. Men constantly, whispering compliments to you. And to each other about you.    Watching your Daddy glow with pride as other men drool over you is an amazing feeling for him. And so exciting for you.    Perhaps another tip. You would straddle a man’s lap and allow him to feast on your magnificent breasts, but only ever so softly. The tip of his tongue and his fingertips, but only a soft squeeze.   As your clothes become more scant. Your skin will be teased more and more with the feathery touch of drooling ,horny  men craving your attention.with only softest caress of fingertips. Insidiously raises your temperature, temperature higher and higher. The voice of your inner fuck toy, screaming to be used. With Daddy’s permission and supervision you can be a good girl doing naughty, naughty things.   Daddy sees how excited you are. He knows that look in your eye when all you can think about is wanting to be a good girl and please all these men.     Your eyes begin to plead with Daddy. They say everything without words to him do you want the game to be over. But 9 innings is much too long . Do I have wait DADDY PLEASE !!!   But you also noticed that it may be the seventh inning, but more and more of the men are watching for the next piece of clothing that will come off that so much about whether the batter will be struck out.      There is one big, comfy chair that is pointed in the opposite direction of all the others watching the TV. You check all of them one more time to see if they need another drink your handshake a little bit. With the anticipation.   Daddy taps one of his friends on the shoulder and leans down, whispers into his ear.  Then he looks back into your eyes. And you know you need to go to him now.  All he says, is round one. First chair.