PLEASE DO NOT SEND ONE LINE MESSAGES AND PLEASE READ THIS SHORTENED PROFILE BEFORE WRITING.  IT'S UNLIKELY THAT YOUR PROFILE WILL ADDRESS ALL THE ISSUES I MENTION HERE SO I MAY NOT WRITE TO YOU EVEN IF I LOOKED AT YOUR PROFILE EVEN IF WE MIGHT BE A GOOD FIT. IF YOU HAVE AN INTEREST OR THINK IT'S POSSIBLE WE COULD FIT IT WOULD BE A GOOD THOUGHT FOR YOU TO WRITE AND FIND OUT......  Because this site mangles punctuation and foreshortens some words I have tried to get around some of the issues as best I can. Please don't think we are illiterate and don't have good communications skills.  We suppose the best thing is to eliminate the majority of people on this site who don't fit with what we're seeking. That is not a judgement since not being right for us doesn't mean you're not right for many people here. We are seeking a slave or two who can be comfortable being owned by a fairly radically liberal Dominant man. We have cats and 2 Great Danes so pet allergies are a problem. We need to live with bdsm as the focus of our household so custodial children won't work. Even though  many people think I am younger than my years I am old and probably only going to be able to function as a Master for another 15 years or so. Once a family is established we will seek another dominant to be mentored and groomed to provide continuity for the family but there are no guarantees. Even so I still expect a one hundred percent buy in and c0mmitment. That literally means NOTHING held back, total honesty and devotion. Anyone afraid of hard work, total honesty or keeping a daily written journal won't work out long run.   I've been a live in slave owner most of my adult life but still have a lot to learn. If you need someone who has all the answers or can tell you exactly what you'll be doing in a year that's not me. My experience is each relationship is unique and takes on a life of it's own meaning as we each grow and evolve together our path will open up in front of us but neither of us can know exactly where it leads until we're on it.   We are a sadistic male dominant Master and his masochistic but highly service oriented slave. We work hard at living bdsm full time and still have active careers and time for the vanilla world.  We are very liberal, open minded, caring and dedicated to our way of life. Master is experienced and even skilled with over 50 years in bdsm communities and having owned live in slaves for most of that time. He is not judgemental and can probably address most any fetish or bdsm need you may have if he beleives you are capable of dealing with the outcome of living it as part of your way of life.We seek open, honest, drama free and not jealous slaves to join us in creating a caring small bdsm poly family. We don't tolerate bigotry of any kind. The mantra of ALL OF US BEING ON THE SAME TEAM might explain a lot. We require an extraordinary amount of c0mmitment, complete honesty and devotion. The ability to trust and share everything going on for you is critical.Together as a family I expect us all to work for common goals, be supportive of one another, always be excited and willing to explore further everything in bdsm. Adventuresome and self aware of your need to serve and live bdsm would be good. I am flexible and will consider slaves of any  legal age or gender or situation as in couples, singles or even an existent poly family because everyone has something to offer that could be useful to this poly family at each stage in their lives. But do keep in mind I ask for and expect a lot from slaves, That means literally 100 percent from you whatever that turns out to be.  We believe we offer a lot in return and if we connect this is an extraordinary opportunity for you and us. Please write if you feel an interest. We hate to waste your and our time if you cant envision an older owner or being expected to stay in slave space mindset almost all the time. There is a lot that we havent said here but again in the interest of not wasting your time I will stop and have more to share if you have an interest. We always answer questions as honestly as possible, feel free to ask anything.

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?

Message to Another user when Questioned about deepthroating You just have to start slow and if it isn't working just relax your tongue & angle slightly different until it's a smooth motion into your throat. Then relax & let it go in & out. Then (if you did Swim team) do quick breaths of air in between some of the facefucking. If you have a long term guy to train you and get you used to it and the whole process it's not too hard. Unless your mouth is too small or under/overbite then .. Sucks for you. Or if the guy has a right angle member then.. That's pretty hard lol In terms of my oral health I'm 100% clean. Tested and STD Free & HIV Negative. I have health insurance/Dental too and even Vision (Wears contacts) I have all white teeth, no cavities or crowns, and I enjoy brushing them throughout the day. A clean mouth is a good mouth. Fresh breath. Marketing Major Caregiver/BarBack Have a nice Car Good place (can't host) Good head not emotionally wrecked or anything just enjoy being used and having fun.

I had a conversation yesterday that reminded me why I don’t rush access. Every so often, someone comes along who understands the difference between fantasy… and function. He didn’t come in with noise, exaggeration, or empty declarations. He understood something much more important, how to exist in both worlds without conflict. That’s rare. Because the truth is, this isn’t about cosplay. It’s not about acting out power or performing submission in isolated moments. It’s about integration. Taking what exists in this space, structure, direction, awareness, and applying it to real life in a way that actually works. Where it builds something. Where it creates value. Where it makes both people stronger, not dependent. That’s what most miss. A real dynamic doesn’t remove you from reality, it refines how you move within it. And a true leader doesn’t just command… she guides. She shapes. She diraspects with intention so that what stands beside her is not just devoted, but useful, capable, and aligned. That’s where something meaningful begins. Not in fantasy. But in what you can sustain. I think i'll keep him — Mistress Nikki Vixen aka Goddess

  Why Submissive Men Are the Gift That Keeps on Giving Let’s be honest — submissive and slave men are deliciously useful, and if you know how to train, tease, and structure them, they become an absolute dream. I’m not just talking about the foot rubs, the spoiling or the delightfully desperate good-morning messages (though those do make my tea taste better). I’m talking about the deeper satisfaction of molding a man into exactly what you want him to be — obedient, structured, and operating on your rhythm, not his.A good sub craves rules. A real slave aches for structure. Protocols aren’t punishment — they’re a privilege. They weed out the fantasy-chasers and reward the men who understand that service is sacred. The way a slave kneels, the tone of his voice when he addresses me, how he waits for permission to speak or even breathe a little deeper… it’s not about theatrics. It’s about alignment. With my will.And let’s be clear: submissive men are not weak. It takes strength to surrender, discipline to follow, and real devotion to stay in service when it stops being about what turns them on and starts being about what I require.So yes, I like submissive men. I like using them to keep my space clean, my schedule tight, my life flowing in luxury and ease. I like protocols that make them think before they act, ask before they assume, and anticipate before I have to demand.   In this world? You don’t need 100 subs. You just need one who knows that protocol is his privilege — and obedience is his purpose.

It is good to see this feature has returned. I had been told that it may or may not but there was no plans when I had asked so I am pleased that the decision was made to bring it back. Being able to use the journal and share one's thoughts can save a lot of time. You get to a point where you decide to write a single email then copy and paste to the ones you are interested in speaking with. It seems to me that many women on here, still looking, get overwhelmed with response and often times an introduction may go unread from being overlooked. With the journal you get to share more and someone can establish a sense of you before opening communication. This leads me to something that has bothered me about a stance some take in the online community. This idea that you are not real if you do not post photos of yourself or what you do. Not to say I would be unwilling to send photos once I spoke with someone and believed them to be serious. I would gladly share with someone I feel is serious about moving forward. However, the idea that I should share a bunch of photos with disregard to the safety of those involved simply to prove I am real is, in my opinion, absurd. In order for me to post photos I would have to scrutinize each photo to ensure nothing is revealed that could identify me or those who do or have served me. I do not have the time to do this and lets face it, I would rather live in the moment doing than relive what I did. To me, the person who has all the photos and videos is living in the past instead of the now. Besides, even though this is not a completely public site, I have come across scammers, so the less I put out that is readily accesible the better for me and those who rely on me. If you wish to know me and see what I do, then contact me. For now, I will add more entries as topics come to mind that I want to share my thoughts on. In this way, the community may get to know me and those who are seeking someone like me may find me. I look forward to sharing more in time.

It's interesting to carry on with my processing of th eexperience I had last week.   Did I enjoy it - not really.  Am I going to do it again with that Master?  No. But it doesn't alter the fact that He 'marked' me.  Nothing can erase the fact that I knelt at his feet and drank a bladderful of his piss; noting can erase the fact that I worshipped his ass with my tongue; nothing can erase the fact that I submitted to him giving me a full enema and then watching as I sat on th etoilet to let it all come out; nothing can erase the fact taht I grovelled at his feet and sucked His tow.  Nothing can erase the fact that I called this other Man 'Master' and allowed myself to be totally debased by Him. And all that for someone I didn't actually like or get any kind of buzz from. Now I'm thinking:  how low would I go for a Man that i really longed for?  Is there anything I wouldn't do? Perhaps I really am veyr submissive after all!

Yes I'm here almost entirely for reading journals, the rare thoughtful empathetic intellectual exchange, and the rare opportunity to give support and make helpful suggestions to those relatively new, or looking deeper, who seek it and are appreciative of my time invested. Beyond *very* rare exceptions (none in a long time that appealed to me) I'm not here "looking" for relationship or sex or cybersex at all, and not in a long time any appealing online erotic correspondence. I'd update profile to say this more directly, but as others have said, the wait can be really very long before the profile is again approved.  So for above reasons I find myself returning to the website, and to look at this usually hidden part of the human mind and spirit, and and part present human society. For most of what I see, so much unnecessary hate and aggression but I don't need to write much about it here to condemn it..but then the gems, which don't have to be polished gems, just a person opening up, it could be non-BDSM, just writing on profile or journal about dealing with health, or dealing with the loss of life of a spouse..and you get glimpse of a human mind that's not through the usual filters. And on BDSM, or sexually in general,  similarly, being able to read glimpses of candor and the inner psychological world, an uncommon chance to read someone opening up..

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

June 2024 All the years that have passed since my last entry and I'm in an insane mirror world where I'm trapped with him again. Choosing the kids again. My soul is gone, there's no love and laughter to greet with, no holding hands and thrilling looks, no anticipation... of good or bad. I am still No longer in steel, proof how I'm undesirable. He is a hollow shell, a ghost of who he was - all he was. The man who hobbles through my apartment is bitter, broken, deeply unhappy.... the attitude has become apathy, the confidence has become bitterness. The grief muscles cover his face until he's unrecognizable and the missing limbs make him think something inside is missing too. What once was powerful now is pitiful and whatever we once had; faded memories. I try to force him to leave, but he laughs as he curls up on a chair outside with his laptop... homeless yet not in the least. the kids scream at me about why can't I just be a good wife, a good cook, a better housecleaner? Why can't I just shut my mouth and let him die in peace? (Though they know i may go first) They can't understand the sorrow in my empty eyes and as he revives again in simple motions. They also don't understand... the hate, the rage, the abuse, the ugly words and texts. Neverending abuse I lived through for more than decades to TRY to give them a dad. They can't see what I go through - both good and bad - every time he rounds a corner. The way I flinch when his head whips around or the way I refuse to put my back to a wall... anywhere. They don't know I remember his magic hands on my body or the best friend by my side for decades. They don't see when we smile at a shared memory that it hurts both of us.  They blame me, as well he's taught them. Hell, I did right, but I blame me too. I've tried, so. Fucking. Hard. For years to forgive and forget. But when his hands grab my neck I react, when he gently touches me, and I know what pain is next, i can't stop freezing. When he kisses me and I sob.... he walks away with a look of disgust, hate, retribution. Away enough to hear me cry and beg forgiveness, enough to hear me beg to be his again, no love even, just property. Beg for the gag, the collar, the pain, the burns and broken. The plead for the hood so I don't see him and he can't see me. To even be taken, this life from the kids in exchange for death or use. Anything but this horrible hell I suffer every single day.  But what is it a sadist wants? REAL PAIN. What is more painful that making a slave a single mother? Anything more soul destroying to hear her beg to choose you over them, to see you've won. They don't want her, they want you. To hand her the loaded gun and laugh that she won't pull the trigger because she won't leave the kids with that final thought.  My mom destroyed my childhood, but in disliking herself - my mom ruined my life too, by taking hers.  I can't  

I am worth more than the sum of this profile.  I  love dogs, have a smart mouth and take delight in making someone I care for laugh. I am not perfect .I believe in being transparent.

Doors, and the Men Brave Enough to Open Them I need to talk about housing, because the situation has moved from inconvenient to urgent and I have never been the kind of woman who dresses up an uncomfortable truth to make it easier to look at. The burglary destabilized something that was already fragile. The particular violation of having your home invaded, the way it changes the quality of the air in a space you were supposed to feel safe in, has made staying where I am feel increasingly untenable. And so I have been doing what practical women do: looking at options, running numbers, weighing what is available against what I actually need, and arriving repeatedly at the same frustrating conclusion. The budget and the requirement do not currently overlap in the way I need them to. Chicago is not a forgiving market. What I can afford and what my children deserve and what my own standards require form a very specific Venn diagram with a smaller center than I would like. I am not defeated by this. But I am frustrated, genuinely and specifically, in the way that only financial limitation frustrates a woman who knows exactly what she should have and cannot yet reach it. And so I find myself thinking about a different kind of solution. One that lives not in the listings I scroll through late at night but in the framework of the life I am actually trying to build. The truest forms of submission are not always the ones that happen on a marble floor or at the end of a leash at a Renaissance faire. Sometimes the truest form of submission is a man who looks at the woman he serves and says: my home is yours. Come and make it what it should be. Let me provide the foundation and trust you completely with everything built on top of it. That is what I am thinking about. A sub who opens his doors is offering something more profound than service in the conventional sense. He is offering sovereignty. He is saying: I trust your vision, your standards, your taste, your authority over the space we will share, completely and without reservation. He is handing over not just his time and his attention but the most intimate expression of his daily life, the home he lives in, and inviting a woman of genuine authority to take it in hand and make it into something neither of them could produce alone. I think about what that would look like in practice, and it looks like this: I come home from work and from school and from the particular exhaustion of a life I carry with full commitment, and I come home to a space that has been held in my absence with the same care I would give it myself. The children are received. Dinner exists. The household has been managed not because I directed every step but because the man inside it has internalized my standards deeply enough that my presence or absence changes nothing about the quality of the result. The home runs on my vision and his execution and the collaboration between those two things produces something genuinely beautiful. I would be the homemaker in the truest sense: the one who makes the home what it is, whose taste and authority and presence defines the atmosphere and the culture of the space, while still working and studying and mothering and building the future I have mapped out so precisely. Not because I need someone to fund me into passivity, that is not who I am and never will be, but because the domestic load distributed correctly, between a woman who knows what she wants her home to be and a man who has made producing that his devoted purpose, is what allows both people to function at their highest level. This is not a fantasy of convenience. This is the framework. This is what the life I have described across every entry in this space actually requires to function. The architecture of everything I am building has this at its foundation: a shared home, governed by my standards, maintained by his devotion, built around my children's stability and my own restoration and the slow and serious construction of a future that looks like what I deserve. The man who offers his door is not losing anything. He is gaining the most clarifying thing available to someone like him: a woman who knows exactly what to do with the space he has been living in alone, waiting without quite knowing what he was waiting for. I am not difficult to house. I am specific. There is a difference. I know what I am looking for. I know it exists. And I am, as always, building toward it whether or not it has arrived yet.   It will.

Never mind the brit who I spent far too much time with only to determine that he preys on women as a CollarSpace occupation...but then to be followed by the next group: He doesnt fix his phone and therefore cannot communicate effectively. He cannot share his availability properly or set aside proper time to converse. He doesn't show up for the meeting - 1st time because he was sick and waits to tell Me at the appointed hour. He doesn't show up for the meeting - 2nd time because 'I worry him' and waits until the appointed hour. LOL He verbally attacks and berates when I show the least bit of consideration. He then contacts Me under another screeen name, different state, 15 years older. He tells Me we are not well matched. LOL YA THINK? Next one... 1st meeting - mandatory work schedule change; notified one or two days prior- accepted. 2nd meeting - computer virus effecting communication until last minute; contacted day prior. I had to find suitable PAID option as replacement - accepted. 3rd meeting - had to care for a family member, contact made day of and two hours prior to scheduled meet time - DENIED. aND Next... Meeting scheduled for 18 day visit in November after a few months of build up....then POOF!  I didn't even get a Dear Jane letter on that one! Oh yeah, almost forgot about the local chap who was more than willing to mow and weedwack one fine weekend a month ago... POOOOOOOOF!   YOU INCONVENIENCE A WOMAN WHO IS A FULL TIME CAREGIVER TO A SAINT?  ARE YOU SERIOUS? Regarding the first two subs...what they dont realize is it matters not that they didnt show up.  What matters is that they wanted Me to believe in their ability and desire and went to great lengths to convince Me of their worth and intention.  After I went to considerable lengths to prepare for our meetings, then to not show and cause not just Me an inconvenience but inturn My household - well that is INTOLERABLE.  Slaves My arse!  Bottom toppers is more like it! As of yesterday, 103124, I finally completed the work I had planned to complete with the first two gents.  It has taken Me TWO MONTHS to do what I could have done in two weekends with these men.  By making committments which they did not keep, they cost Me time and money and lots and lots of harder days with mum and FOR mum. Had I not made the plans with them, I would have a. made plans with others b. hired the help I need ahead of time c. restructured My schedule to accomodate a lack of assistance. Instead, My household has been stressed out trying to play catch up which means mother and I have had a stressed time, which means I DON'T TRUST YOU OR LIKE YOU. Ya'll are inconsiderate and you have been dealt with more than fairly.  You know what to do if you decide to get serious and stop playing around. Do what you say.  Say what you do.  Obey.  Simple. And for the love of Pete - stop making plans with women unless you intend on following through!

When Peter came to visit us. Peter loooked older in real life than he did in his profile picture. He was extremely well dressed and well spoken. He seemed mild mannered and not the typical Dom my wife normally goes for. After what seemed like hours of chit chat and a few glasses of red wine he finally got on to why he was actually here. That was to inspect Katie my wife and to find out how obiediant we were. The conversation eventually got around to Katies underclothes. He started asking her questions about her bra and knickers. What colour they were, what material they were, where she bought them, how much she pays for them, how often she wears them. The questions were relentless. Then he asks if he could see her in just her bra and panties. He looked at me "You don't mind that do you Ted"? "er No" I replied. "Ok Kate I want you to stand up and strip down to your bra and panties for me" "Good girl" he said as she stood up and started undressing. She looked lovely standing there in just her undies. "Mmm" he muttered "A matching set, just what I like to see" He looks again at me. "Your wife looks very sexy Ted, does it bother you" he asks. "Does what bother me? that she looks sexy" I ask. "No Ted, does it bother you to see your wife take her clothes off so easily for another man"? "haha Oh no" I nervously laugh trying to make light of it, "I'm used to it now" I replied. "Does she make habit of it then Ted" he asks. "Well she is an exhibitionist" I reply. "Ok Ted for this next part I'm going to require you to leave the room " "Oh no, Im comfortable now, I wont be a problem" I assure him. "No Ted as part of your obiediance test I must insist that you leave the room, go and sit in the kitchen and have a beer" he tells me. I want to interview your lovely wife in private, be a good boy and wait in the kitchen until I call you back in and don't worry I am not going to have sex with her, I will instruct her to get fully dressed shortly, I simply want to test her obiediance and limits, yours too Ted so be a good boy and wait in the kitchen until I call you back" "Well if you insist" I mumble as I get up to leave.   Of course I don't go to the kitchen as told. I stand outside the front room door listening to what is being said. I hear him telling her to remove her bra. the silence tell me she is complying. "Thats it my dear, just drop it there" I hear him say. "You have beautiful breasts Katie. stand closer so I can feel them, thats it" I hear him say. He asks her if her nipples are sensitive and by the sound of her shreek I'm guessing he is squeezing her nipples while fondelling her breasts.I can just about hear a few Mmm's and Arrr's and It sounds like he is playing with her tits for some while. "There lovely" I hear him say. "Ok Katie, now the panties, Just lower them down a little. Mmm I love a fully shaved pussy, Wow that is very smooth Kate, Did Ted shave that for you"? I hear him ask.   "Yes he did" I hear her say in a soft shy voice. Did he do that for ny benefit Kate" he knew I was coming to inspect you today.  "Lower your panties a little more for me. Thats hit down to your knees. Part your legs a little more, Mmm thats it. That's lovely. Mmm your so wet Kate. Do you like this"? I hear him ask her.  She replies faintly "Yes Sir I do" He tells her to let her panties drop to her ankles. "Mmm just stand there like that for me" I hear him tell her. "You are so horny" he says. "I must get a couple of pictures" it goes quite and I'm guessing he is getting his phone out and photographing her. I have been standing outside listening and wanking myself. I didn't want to cum as I wanted to fuck her after he had gone but I couldn't help cumming at the thought of what was happening.  I heard him telling her to kneel down and unzip him. She was obviously complying. "Thats it put it in your mouth, Ohhh thats lovely" I can hear him moaning as she sucks him off. After a while I hear him telling her not to swallow. "Hold it in your mouth" he tells her. from his groans it is obvious that he has cum in her mouth."Open your mouth let me see" he tells her. "Good girl" He tells her to gargle before allowing her to swallow. He again tells her shes a good girl and she knows how to suck a cock.  "I bet you've had a lot of practice" he jokes. Just clean me up a little" Mmm thats very good" he tells her. I hear him say "Ok my dear you can get fully dressed now and go tell Ted I said he can come back in" "Thank you Sir" I hear her say in that soft voice of hers.

Since Master James passed away things have been a little different between Mistress Tabitha and I. More like girlfriends in mourning than Mistress and slave. I had to ask if I could resume wearing my collar as it had been removed for the funeral services.Today started out as a surprise for me. Mistress snapped my leash on and led me to the basement and tied my in a standing spread eagle an picked up the buggy whip.She kissed my cheek and said youve done nothing wrong but I need this.She started to whip me and she started crying. She whipped harder and harder. I was crying and writhing in pain and she beat me for almost 20 minutes. Breasts, back, bottom and the inside of my thighs. It was the most severe whipping I have ever had. Almost no delay between strokes, just a storm of constant pain.She sat and watched me as I tried to settle down. Finally she said I love you, it will be ok. I started crying again. I was happy and felt a huge amount of relief.Things are getting back to normal.Master James would be pleased.

My Heart Is a Lighthouse     My heart is a lighthouse.Inside it, a light that never goes out.Even when dim, it sends its signal —a soft pulse across the waves,trusting someone is out there,sailing slowly but surely toward me.They hold the key to the door.And when they arrive,they’ll know it was always theirs.

Well its a different thing now for therapy and to make better quality bondage gear again with a guarantee that no store or fetish maker Gives. As alot dont stand by there workmanship as it is a skilled craftsmans that if it makes quality gear of the best leather and hardware it should out last your slave or submissive. If it doesnt it has failed. So it guarantees to always replace free of charge restraints and other bondage gear it makes. It see so many out there making quality bondage gear and charging ridiculous prices. It wanted a Pony Harness and the price was Ridiculous $1500. It has to laugh. Well, the 2nd order of it Leather working tools have arrived from Amazon. Give it the third time in it life Rebuilding its Leather making workshop. And in the next fortnight, got a third order that has to go in. And that should see it. Build the tools and the workshop that it needs to start making. What It needs And wants And to rebuild it inventory. it uses the highest grade harness US latigo leather as used in the Saddle and Harness industry on the market and heavy metal hardware, Post screw rivets and with reinforced with leather sewing machine for extra strength for secure durablity.

Creating My household - Chat. Meet. Do.   Lifetime position - Primary care attendant for My mother with Mid/late stage Alzheimer's.  Google it.  36 Hour day.  Live it.    Requirements:  Genteel.  Never use harsh words or swear.  Affectionate.  Exceptional grasp of the English language. Knowledgeable and amenable.  Must like dogs.  Short day trips - movies, lunch, thrifting.  Ensuring proper daily exercise.  Naughty nice school boys to the head of the line.     This position works well for someone who likes to be in the home and on hand, actively engaged in domestic duties, preparing meals and calmly engaging mother with leisure activities.    I will be responsible for My mothers personal and grooming needs until such time as a slave is well and thoroughly installed.  Personal services may then be granted.

    Public Service Announcement to the “I Want to Serve You, Goddess” Crew: Your Thumbs Are Not Submission  Let me make something crystal clear for the aspiring submissives, servants, and “I’m-ready-to-devote-my-life-to-you” hopefuls who beg for an opportunity to prove themselves who then crash and burn before the engine even starts. If I grant you permission to call me, and your response is to text me, congratulations: you’ve already failed. Let me repeat that slowly for the chronically dense:   Texting. Is. Not. Calling.   You begged to serve. You pleaded for a chance. You wrote paragraphs about how serious you are. I finally say, “Fine. Call me at this time,” and suddenly your phone.. The same phone you’ve been blowing up with 27 back-to-back messages now it mysteriously loses the ability to dial?  Miss me with that nonsense!   Submission Requires Execution, Not Excuses  You don’t impress me with walls of text explaining how loyal and devoted you’ll be. You impress me by following a single instruction without turning it into a personal struggle session.   If you cannot: Press one button to CALL Respect a time window Present yourself with clarity and intention  …then you are not seeking to serve. You’re seeking attention!  I don’t run a charity for grown toddlers!    Submission Is Action. Not Emojis. Not Daydreams. Not Typing Sprees.  You want to text-chat your way to greatness? Go find a Discord Mistress. Or a Telegram Dominant. I deal in real presence, not keyboard fantasies.  And to the ones who send non-stop text threads instead of doing what was asked... You’re not being persistent. You’re being annoying! Uncontrolled desire is not devotion. It’s desperation. And desperation without discipline? Instant disqualification.  The Standard Going Forward  If I say call, you:  1. Confirm.  2. Prepare.  3. Call.  There is no: “But I was nervous.” Nervous dogs still obey commands. “But I didn’t know what to say.” Then ask first, think second, but DO. NOT. TEXT. “But I’m better in writing.” Then you are better off elsewhere! You Want Access? Learn Precision! Servitude is not granted to those who talk the loudest. It is given to those who listen the best. If you can’t execute a basic directive, don’t request a role in my universe. I am not here to mother you, motivate you, or walk you through the concept of a phone call in 2025. Be clear. Be ready. Be real. Or be gone.  

1 year post gastric bypass I have lost approximately 80 pounds from December 2020-May 2022. I had gastric bypass on May 2021. What have I learned in the first year post gastric bypass: A bite or two of something is enough for a taste but you don’t need a ton. A single bite or two of something sweet but high in calories is usually enough. I was trained as a small child that anything you take you eat. Learning to stop when full and ask for a box or throw away/give away the remainder has been a huge success. Shopping in decreasing sizes doesn’t mean you have to purchase every size as you go down. I have gone from a 22/24 sometimes 26 down to a 12-16 depending on the store. I have gotten a lot of my clothes from friends at a clothing exchange. I have at times lost more inches than pounds so when i decide everything is too big I shop then i see a large jump from where i was to where I am. I’ve gone from an old navy xxl at my heaviest to a xl in bodycon dresses to a m in summer dresses. Which was a thrill. However, I don’t shop enough to purchase every size. In Jeans, I usually end up dropping 2 or 3 sizes when i shop since i wear them with a belt until they are insanely big. Weighing/measuring portions isn’t a bad thing. I actually want to upgrade my food scale to a nicer one. I use this daily. When I pack lunches for work I’m still packing too much. It is a shock to bring home half of what i pack. If i take a large back of something into my desk drawer I have to take a measuring device to portion it out or portion ahead of time. If not I fall into bad habits The scale isnt the only victory. If i lose inches and clothing fit better that is a win. Being able to take dresses from tunic tops to actually dresses with boots this winter has been fun. Regular knee-high boots not extra extended calf have been a thrill. Being able to handle heels regularly has been amazing. Going to the gym is fun with the right classes. Spend the extra for the gym with classes you might like. My family spends 86 per month on the YMCA instead of 40 for planet fitness locally. The Y has childcare and all the classes. I go to water aerobics, pure barre and body pump. I have a ton of fun at all 3. Plus as long as I go 12 times a month I get 20 back on membership. If my husband goes 12 times we get 20 back for him as well. SO it bring the Y down close to Planet fitness in cost plus it includes childcare and activities for my daughter as well. I can keep up with my co-workers who are almost half my age. I feel mentally sharper. I also can physically outdo some of them. I work in a department where we move some boxes of paperwork on a regular basis. As long as i’m not wearing a short skirt and the box isn’t over my head I can lift most. I have learned it is ok to ask for help with medical concerns. I am an insulin diabetic on a pump. I have had to reach out a few times for my data to be reviewed by my diabetic care team and be adjusted. My goals for year 2 are to: I plan to up my time at the Y. I currently go 2 times a week for me and then 2 times a week for my kid to use the pool. I want to get to 3 or 4 times a week for me and 2 times for my kid. Find someone to be accountable to forMonitoring the protein i get in daily- i should be getting between 60-90 grams of protein in dailyMy time spent at the gymMy food logs With my current partners consider adding those pieces into my dynamic with them. Not so much as to be babied by them but to know i’m being monitored. To Know i will be asked why i didnt do one of them some specific day. It is like the monitoring with my medications that we do currently. I want to get under 200 pounds. I have always been a BBW but i want to become closer to hwp. I want to be able to completely shop in straight sizes instead of still flipping between straight sizes and plus. I want to be able to get tied into more positions. In addition to being a masochist.

Looking for permanent companionship.  I am poly and unpartnered currently.  What I am looking for is obedience and full time servitude. I am not a nice person.  If you please me, you will be rewarded.  If you displease me, you will be punished.  None of that bratty punishment.  You will be punished in a way that you genuinely dislike.  If chaining you up and leaving you alone is something that distresses you, that can be your punishment.  If you dislike pain, or public humiliation, or anything really, I will make it happen so you genuinely suffer.  If you want to be playful and want some of these things, just ask at an appropriate time and I will make it happen as long as you have not displeased me. Also looking for genuine hypnosis subjaspects I am not a monster, I am not a nice guy either.

For the record, if I haven't said it before, I, myself, am NOT turned on by anyone in pink frilly birthday cake dresses.   If you google "pink lolita dress" images and are wearing anything like any one of those pink ruffled outfits, understand that it actively turns me OFF.  They look like toddler's fancy dreses. As I am not a pedophile, I am not attracted to toddlers.  I am, in fact, kind of repulsed by the idea of ANYONE being attracted to a toddler, and the entire thought process just squicks me out. So, no, not gonna ever wanna dress anyone up in a frilly pink dress like that. Now, if you make it black, with lace, and black fishnets, and don't make the skirt look like some nightmare square dance cloud of tulle, then, perhaps.  If it's properly paired with well done black eyeliner, etc. If you MUST have frills and ruffles, make it a fluffy bustle with a black velvet corset and a black lace shrug that ends in a finger loop Google "sexy goth dress" and wear that.  That is sexy. That is not 'three year old girl' stuff  Be a cat to catch a cat lover Be a goth to catch a goth dancer Be both to catch me Or maybe cosplay Thomas Brown Hewitt in the half mask, but that's a different conversation.  

This scenario is what I prefer my Sex life to look like.  If you want more, then please look elsewhere and stop messaging me.  I'm looking for the man who wants this.  An intense stress relief on Friday night with a late dinner out and jacking off or titty fucking me daily or close to daily during the week.  I adore waking Up to a rough titty fuck and being displayed with his cum drying on me while he showers. A quick inspection and some lovely kisses but no relief for my sweet pussy that is being for attentio.  Once the cum is dry, I'm off to shower a d get my day started. I'm even up for more use as your personal cum rag in the evening if we aren't busy with vanilla life. Other than being incredibly turned on by my preferred kink, it has some advantages.  There Is no unwanted pregnancy and the risk of catching an STD is incredibly low.  By the time a rare and special event happens and we have penetrating sex I should be assured that the risk of an std is zero.    

Edit     So the looser of our little game is now in the position of being constantly aroused at the thought of so many folk seeing one of her pictures, and as she has no control over further posts. Its hard to tell which is arousing her more, the loss of control or folk seeing her pictures. So today we have a fresh picture to review, feedback welcome.

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. 

I am a heterosexual submissive transwoman named Julie, and one of the several categories for which the modern term is sissy.  That means as a transwoman I am primarily attracted to men and am submissive to them, though I also enjoy other transwomen.  I am however bigender because I do not want to give up the societal advantages of being male to earn a living.  It took me a long time to figure these things out and realize I was not bisexual.  As a transwoman, I am ideally looking for long-term but occasional relationship with a mostly heterosexual man, ideally as his mistress.  I want to make a man really happy because I'll do things for him that most wives will not.  I will appear to him and behave for him as close to his ideal female partner as I can.*************************The one essential book every transwoman should read is Whipping Girl: A Transexual Woman on Sexism and the Scapegoating of Femininity by Julia Serano, now in its third edition (Seal Press, 2024).  This is a detailed analysis of what it means to be a transwoman and the obstacles we face.  It is important to note on this site that the title does not refer to masochism but to the frequent scapegoating of transwomen in the media as a threat to society.  Serano's argument is that transwomen are demonized because of the rampant misogyny of Western society, where any feminine traits are denigrated, and any masculinity, including the toxic masculinity of cultural conservatives, is privileged. Even some feminists are anti-feminine, not realizing that is probably because they have transmen tendencies.  Part of this "transmisogyny" is also the mistaken notion that male and female are opposites ("oppositional sexism") with nothing in between, and part of it is due to the mistaken belief that your birth gender cannot be changed.  But as the book points out, many men have some feminine traits and many women have some masculine traits.  The book also notes that we constantly unconsciously judge people as male or female based on just a few characteristics without every seeing their genitals or their chromosones, so a person's sex in society is not based on their genetics or organs.The third edition has many good rejoinders to current antitrans-hysteria, notably in the new last chapter.  3% of men and 3% of women appear to have some trans tendencies.  Gender-affirming medical care such as hormones and surgeries for trans people has a low rate of regret, around 1%, whereas similar interventions for nontrans people such as breast augmentation and reduction or hormone supplementation have a regret rate of 14%.  Puberty-blocking medications have been used for years for nontrans children with hormone defects, with no ill effects or inabilty to reverse them.  Trans children who have been denied gender-affirming care have a 14 times higher suicide rate than other children.  Trans children appear in families at the same rate independent of the degree of trans support in their families, so there is no "social contagion" with trans tendencies.  There are more self-identified trans people today than in the past, but that is because society has become more welcoming.  Trans people show no evidence of being sexual predators, any more than women who dress well are sexual predators: Marginalized groups (think blacks) are often hyper-sexualized in the media.  As for "bathroom bills", I find it amusing that the current policy for U.S. government buildings which says that people must use the bathroom of their birth sex, in the avowed goal of protecting women from perverts, forces transmen to go to female bathrooms no matter how much facial hair they have -- something that will make women pretty uncomfortable.  But forcing us transwomen to go to male bathrooms in full drag will not be bad -- men are terrifically scared to look at other men in a bathroom, much less men wearing dresses, for the danger of being throught gay. A weakness of Serano's book is that she sticks to her own perspective as a lesbian transwoman, and doesn't have much to say about transmen.  She also doesn't sound sympathetic to us sissies; she says tranwomen are "fierce" and not passive.  But of course being passive is not necessarily feminine, and could be just reflect to the long oppression of women (as with other minorities) by society.  We need more books on other kinds of trans people.  But for now, Serano's book is important reading.

As for about me and who I am. Well most of it is in the profile.   But I am a skilled maker with slightly above skills in welding, metal working, woodworking, plastics, molding, 3d printing, cnc laser cutting, chainmail weaving, scene prop special effects, and a few other random skills.   I also have a high level of skill in photography, video production (both shooting and editing), audio production, photo retouching and manipulation as well as graphic design and media production. (BS in media production) I also dabble in fashion design with a strong interest in fetish ware. Currently teaching myself leather garment sewing, as well as latex/rubber creation. Been playing with bootware and am designing custom heels for high heel boots.   I'm looking for that one female artist who can transform me into a woman. As in post op grs, breast implants, plastic surgery, FFS etc.   In return, my skills and talents would be at her service,  including making a full dungeon with all the toys one could dream of. As I look more fem I would have no problem being a cam girl for her and after I am fully transitioned I would gladly be a beta dom, under her.

May 16, 2023 - Sextoy69 got a HARD throat fucking today !It's been awhile since he has stopped by. And last time he came by it was unannounced and I was in my bathroom. He said it was hot that all I had on was the bathrobe.So this time, knowing he was going to arrive, I dressed all in leather. A leather jockstrap, a leather harness, a leather vest, a leather Sir cap.I told him to come on in when he gets here but instead I surprised him by meeting him in the garage dressed like I've described.His face lit up as soon as he walked into the garage and could see me. I told him, "I thought I would dress up a bit today for you."He said, that looks great.We headed upstairs and he started to lay down on the bed on his back. Normally I just climb on top of him and start throat fucking him right away. This time I had other ideas.I told him to get on all fours with his head down on the mattress and his ass in the air. I lubed up a finger and started playing with the outside of his ass. His dick started to get hard so I reached between his legs and started playing with it. Eventually I slipped my finger in his ass and found his prostate gland and started pushing on it. I felt his cock bounce in my other hand.I continued playing with his ass with one finger until I felt him starting to loosen up. Eventually I put a second finger in with a bit of extra lube. I stopped playing with his cock and concentrated on his ass for a while. I rotated my two fingers around stretching his hole open. His chest collapsed even more onto the bed as he pushed his ass higher into the air.I reached between his legs again and started playing with his hard cock. There was pre-cum dripping out. I pulled my fingers out of his ass, and collected some of the pre-cum on those fingers and shoved my fingers and his pre come back into his ass.As I played with his cock his ass tightened around my fingers. This only made it even more fun to spend my fingers around and listen to him moan. Occasionally after playing with his cock for a while my fingers were sticky with his precum so I started playing with my own cock using his pre-cum. I knew eventually he'd be sucking my dick which would mean he would be sucking his own pre-cum off my cock.Although we've been playing for a while I've only fucked him once before. And he didn't really like the experience, although he loves sucking and choking on my cock. As I was playing with his ass, and playing with my own cock using his precum, I wanted to fuck him so bad. But, we hadn't discussed it so I kind of put it out of my mind and just kept playing.I eventually got a third finger into his tight ass using even more lube. Then I reached back behind me to the table and got a large rubber dildo. It's narrower at the tip and grows wider as more and more gets pushed in. With very little effort, it started to slide in his ass. I pulled it out and shoved it back in, fucking him with it. Fucking him with it the way I wanted my cock to fuck him.I pushed a little deeper, and then pulled it all the way out again. Added a little lube and pushed it in to the same depth again. Still playing with my own cock, I would occasionally play with his cock to get more precum on my hand to lubricate my cock. He was pushing his ass higher and higher into the air, but at the same time spreading his legs so I could continue to play with this cock.The toy was now pushed in his ass far enough that it was equivalent to the three fingers I had in him just moments ago. So I pushed a little further, a little harder, and more of the toy slipped up his ass. His hole was now quite stretched. He was making wonderful grunting noises as I fucked him with it.   View the rest of tHe story at http://www.SirKel.top

It's been a while... hello all! Happy New Year. For those that send sweet message, thank you.  I noticed my profile doesn't talk about what I'm looking for due to that whole profile approval crap they were doing a few years ago. I am a DL first & foremost. I love wearing. I do use them. More wet then messy. I am in a LTR, it's very vanilla. He knows that I wear but doesn't know the extent of it. I've been wearing for years, our relationship is weird, some days I'm happy, most days I'm not. It's just been a long time & it's just hard to get up & go, specially without support.  I would love to eventually find someone that can be my daddy dom who accepts diapers & would want me as his diapered slave. I wear as often as I can, but I am not able to be 247. So if anyone on this site is still out there looking for his baby girl, feel free to msg me, let's see where it goes.  PS- I've been doing long enough- if you reach out & you're asking pervy questions, just a Hello, or I've seen you reach out before & it's the same copy paste as before- you're not getting a response from me. Happy 2026 all!  PS- Be Kind. We may not all agree on the same kinks, but we're all here looking for something different than the rest of the vanillas. We're all weird in our own ways. 

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

First I'd like to say thank you to everyonw who has messaged me offering support and sympathies over my recent health decline, it's been very helpful to feel the support and encouragement! I have an appointment in a few days with cardio, so hoping for better results when I go in then ...  on the other hand, the shop is going well we have 24 listings on ebay currently and we're excited to keep adding to those listings I do have to say, I hate having this heat failure, I hate days like today when I am so congested and have no energy, I hate when I feel weak, but it makes me appreciate the good days so much more! Take nothing for granted and enjoy life with good vibes!!!!

Different ways of being hot cis females:  Fall in love with Me, become a quiet little Goddess addict speaking only when spoken to. cis males: Recognizes the chasm between Uus is unnavigable.  Never speaks or writes or whines or begs.  Just remains far away,in devotion and worship, until soul is consumed and gone, and is utterly empty inside. cd: Shares their inner slut with Me sissy: Shares her fears with Me FTM: grabs sword, defends Me and My soaves, doesn't expect reward but is constantly surprised by them MTF: orbits Me, symbiosis, beauty, allows Me to fill her needs and wants and dreams Androgynous: Celebrates their individuality and teaches Me something new NB/GF: celebrates their mercurial nature woth Me, allows Me to feel the liquidity of their soul and shape it as I please Butch Lesbian/Drag Queen: stoves to be a mannequin for Me to dress and play, coming to life and sharing all of their queerness when I am done. Me:  Exists    

It's 230am and I am awake. There is no mistaking the throbbing between my legs and my wetness that stains my sheets. My mind burns with desire and my skin longs to feel the soft nylon rope that entangles my body. I think of your eyes, how they survey every inch of my body..your body. I lay awake feeling this insatiable need, a yearning for your touch. I can see you licking your lips trying to decide where to begin. Let the games begin. I'm bound to you, your playground, your toy. I crave your touch, your power...I am bound to do your will. Sensation after sensation I'm tamed by you..Your touch, your control and your need for pleasure. I can feel my bonds tighten each time I move, ging for air as I'm enveloped completely. My body tingles, I can't catch my breath. I feel your hands on my discovering every inch as if it is the first time. I feel my pleasure surge through my body. My heart races, I can't move, I can't breathe! God please don't stop! I'm startled awake, sheets soaking wet, the throbbing subsides. I collapse into my pillows and melt into my bed. I can feel you in my mind...I'm yours for your pleasure. I feel your comfort, even though I'm alone. I can't get you out of my head...so this is how it feels to be owned.

As a Dominant CD Gurl I look for a Submissive CD who can be controlled and influenced and is available on a regular schedule. The submissive CD will wear the types of feminine clothes she is told to wear. The types of fabrics and texture of fabrics her Dominant is turned on with. The pastel colors and cute prints on the girlie girl fem clothes. The submissive will fill her CD closet with the clothes her Dominant likes to see her wearing. The submissive will keep her body shaved and sexy smooth. She will have spending money to go shopping on command by her Dominant. She will be Bi-Sexual or Gay. She will enjoy getting spanked. She will not be a slave but will serve and service her Dominant on a regular schedule. So far the Vanilla Lives seem to get in the way for finding this submissive CD Gurl?

Really wish this site would let know if people blocked before trying to send them messages. Its like nobody is even here but they will just block you anyways.  Clearly they will be alone as they are always finding a reason before even talking to somebody to block. Those types are why on-line or life is something people are unable to live properly. Back when started on 300 baud it was like nobody could hide their comments or from others. Realize that failed in life so its just wasting time to be here or in this world.  Doms just want somebody to take care of them financially while they will list a bunch of lies otherwise.  Instead of finding what is needed or who would benefit as are unable to do things in life.  They want the Fairy Tale of the Rich dude or so without them having to work or spend their own money.  Others will have problems with Cocaine or Alcohol which creates issues as they can't even control their own self much less others. Many don't have the most money or are unable to keep a stable job. So there those who depend on the subs to keep the money flowing. Read about how can change the font size in a message but they don't allow to set the sizes how want.  Wish lived a life where got married or had kids at like 20. Then they would already be out of College or owning their own homes.  Nobody ever liked me in the RL.  Nothing has really changed even in school would not belong or have people teasing me how talked or so. Though by HS everybody knew me to point nobody would really bother me after this gang jumped me.  So called friends didn't help me then so its telling of reality.  Interesting who helps or will try when don't even know them really heh.  Site used to be really good but now can't even punctuate.  Trash just blocks so its like why even bother.  Nearly impossible to trade information to see in RL.  Used to have High Scores in Space Invaders or other games which could play for hours.

I've recently had the chance to think about TPE more, and I decided that there are ultimately four types, three of which I consider acceptable. In order of intensity, there is first the type, which is simply pushing past where a sub/slave would normall safeword, but not pushing so far that the subconcious is actually forced to acknowledge that they are not in control. This is a stage where a slave is usually begging or angry. The second is the type that I practice currently. Pushing past where people think their limit is, past the second limit where their subconscious gives and realizes that it can only endure, but not going past the last one. The one that makes the mind retreat and can cause trauma. I just brush up against it. The third is when someone deliberately breaks through that last barrier, repeatedly doing so in order to shape the slave into what they desire, using that shaping to subsume other desires and wants, to change who they are at the core level. This is acceptable when a Master has the time, will, and facilities to manage fully breaking a slave, and a slave has agreed beforehand. The last is just the territory of psychopaths, just breaking for the sake of breaking, to do as much damage as possible, and only for their own amusement.

I wrote this "Story"   My First Pain Pig I'm a Service Dom. My Dungeon is my playroom, to create pleasurable sensations. I was mid 20's, living the bachelor dream, whoring in the French Quarter of New Orleans. I landed an ok job with Hilton Hotels after graduation. The French Quarter bars stayed open 24/7. It was a place you partied every night. How I survived, 14 New Orleans Mardi Gras is beyond me, they were all real benders, lasting 3+ days. I lived 1/2 Block off Bourbon Street, it doesn't get better than that. It was at Beer Bust Sunday at The Parade Disco, it was 1982 or so. To drum up LOCAL business, The Parade Disco, had a "Tea Party" a beer bust all the beer you could drink from Sunday 5PM until the Kegs went dry. I'm having a "tea party" beer, and a girl walks up to me and asks why I'm dressed in black leather, am I into BDSm? I told her I'm a "leatherman" I like power-exchange, I like to lead, direct, command, suggest. She asked if I enjoyed spanking a girl, and I said yes, and I liked using my belt as well,. We danced, and drank a few beers, and kept chatting. So she grabs my hand and pulls me to the outside balcony, where folks, can actually hear each other talk since the music inside the bars is always loud.. She tells me her friend Freddie whose into BDSm has talked about me He says your known as a fun sadist. He told, me the rumor is, your a creative sadist.. I replied, something like. I'm a service top, I get off when we both get off. I do love mind fucking folks. Could you make me feel and endure pain? Not continuous relentless pain, but Intermittent shearing flashes of pain like strikes from a thin stick, the sting of the hand, or the thud of the belt? I asked, if she had done anything like this before? No, she just listened to all the hot stories her friend Freddie told her, of being a masochist. At some point, I said My safe word is FROG. Say the safe word and she repeated FROG. Good, I also use a safe gesture. I will squeeze your hand TIGHTLY and shake it, you squeeze my hand 2 times, in reply, This reply tells, me all is great, with you. If you fail to give back 2 quick squeezes I will end our playtime. The conversation went something like that, dam, when you get old, sometimes you just got to fill in details you forgot. I pointed from the Parade Disco's Balcony, Thats where I live across the street 800 feet away, the green shuttered walkup apartment.. She said, lets go to your place and play, make me feel real pain. Let me, tell a friend, I'm going to your apartment and I will call them to get picked up later. We walked hand in hand to my apartment. I opened the door to a typical French Quarter "Shot-Gun" apartment, like a boston row house, 25 feet wide and 60 feet long. The living room in front, a half wall jetty between the living room and the small kitchen. A Hallway the first door, the bathroom on the left, the door at the end of the hall, my bedroom and playroom. I had just finished building my "Playroom" I nick named "The Erection Set". (see my profile for photos) I think, my super-power, as a dom is creativity. I think, I give a good mind-fuck. My first rule as a dom was tie them up, to experience the reality of giving up control. Any act of bondage, is a reality of submission, physically felt and experienced. I had a pro-domme "friend" that I would occasionally drink with, at Jewel's Tavern, a Gay Leather Bar. Dex ,loved telling stories of here recent clients. I learned a lot from Mistress Dex! Maybe the most important thing she ever said, Hugo people don't come to Pro-Domme, looking for sex. If submissive's wanted sex they would go to a call girl. Submissives come to a domme to live out a fantasy. The key to a good scene is, living out a fantasy inside a submissives head. That BDSm lesson about Fantasies, was the best lesson I was ever given. The second best lesson Dex shared: Start a BDSm scene extra slow and build up a scene slowly to a climax. I had an established routine, in dom mode, have submissives undress, tie them to the st andrew cross or some other object, like in a chair. Next, introduce sensation play, running my hands everywhere on my tied up subs body. I would take sensation play to the next level, by adding a blindfold, not knowing where I might touch, pinch, pull next. Clothes Pins, are my absolute favorite toy. I have done scenes, with 100s of clothes pins, pinching everywhere on a submissives body. Ear Lobes, Lips, nipples, breasts, inner thighs, nose, the clit, cunt lips, any flap of skin. Clothes Pins are a great beginner activity. Clothes Pins are a great assessment tool as to how much pain a submissive can tolerate, as clothes pins build up pain slowly. I like starting, clothes pin play, with the breasts, many women have sensitive breasts and nipples, plus they can see the clothes pins, the object of pain tormenting them. This is about the time, I light up a cigar. Domination and smoking a cigar seem to go hand in hand for me. I do enjoy, Hot Ash Play. I know, I had 300 clothes pins on her body and she was feeling it but, not moaning or whimpering She wasn't even close to her limits. I like to flick off clothespins, using a cop or ruler or something similar object. I usually progress to Wax play because wax play looks painful, but isn't. Wax play is truly, a great erotic sensation play activity. Its about this point I asked, her to repeat what she came here to experience. I want pain sir. My massage table,doubled as my bondage table, I tied my sub face down, like in a position for a back massage. I would use, rope, saran wrap, tape, straps, to secure a submissive to the massage table. Hand Spankings, are probably the lightest form of corporal punishment. Then, the ruler, belt, fly swatter, rod, hair brush, next in intensity over a hand spanking, next would be the wooden spoon and paddle in pain or intensity, and in my opinion the cane is the most feared implement, used on the ass. . I got to a frat paddle. I think, my sub liked the belt the best, as she seemed to thrash about a bit. She stayed silent as she took the paddle usually a sign that there isn't a lot of eroticism going on. I want a sub moaning, mumbling, swearing, shaking, that tells me they are having a good time. I remember, it was this moment. I did the "CHECK-IN" hand squeeze. I got 2 quick firm hand squeezes back telling me she with me, "all ok". I asked her what she wanted now. What she wanted, was to be used like a hole. To FILL AND OVER FLOW her senses. To feel totally fucked and exhausted. I knew what she needed, she needed to be fisted, to have her cunt stretched out, rubbed raw. In the French Quarter leather community, I was known, as the Dom that enjoyed fisting and handballing. Back in the 1980's vaseline was the fisting lube of choice, crisco if you were handballing. Now, the cool part, when this happened is my playroom was already semi-functional, I had a sling. (see profile photos to see a sling) If your into fisting or handballing you know someone's intensely into fisting, they own a sling. Using a sling, your in a OB/GYN examination table. position, perfect access.