GuyMasterleigh 

What a maid should bring to Dragao Verde For your first visit, or if you have nowhere to store anything at home, I can probably lend you anything you have not yet acquired on your first visit, though I cannot guarantee it would be a good fit, flattering, comfortable, etc.! From top to bottom; Unless your hair is long enough to be styled in a credibly feminine style, you will want a wig. A long-hair hairpiece can look great, but will be difficult to keep it in good condition if wearing it daily. So I would recommend something that can be more easily maintained. I can offer one as a loan, but it may not be of good quality, the colour that suits you, or in tip-top condition. If all else fails, I will have you wear a snood cap over your hair and/or wig. I have something suitable. If you have pierced ears, small studs or sleeper-type earrings are fine; big dangly hoops are not. Or you can wear clip-on sleepers. If you want your ears (or anywhere else) pierced, I can probably arrange it. If you normally wear spectacles, try to have a pair in a gender-neutral or a feminine style, or wear contact lenses. (Sometimes when you buy a pair of glasses, they will offer an extra pair free, and you could have those in a suitable style.) If you want to show a bust-line, but don't yet have breasts, then you will want silicone breast inserts. No bigger than C cup, ideally. Definitely no bigger than D cup. It is hard to make bigger sizes look realistic. With a bra, and spare, to hold them in place. A chastity device, that you know you can wear for the whole period without pain or problems. My current recommendation for a chastity device is the custom Cherry Keeper. It is made to measure using 3D printing. You can choose the ring-size, cage-style, diameter, length, colour, and even finish.  See recent photos of Jessica's device in my Fet Life photos and read the captions and comments. I recommend an open-cage design, in white, and the minimum size you can get your flaccid penis into, to eliminate any chance of erections or chafing in the best possible finish. An anal plug, again, that you know you can wear for the whole period without pain or problems. Get one and some lube and try it. If too big, get something smaller, if you think you could wear something larger, get a larger one, and so on. A suspender belt and several pairs of black stockings. These are optional, but most girls like to wear them for evening table service. If one or more of your dresses is a pastel colour, not black, bring some in tan or nude. Black court shoes, modest heel, no more than an inch and a half for day wear. A pair of Crocs, or imitations, in a neutral colour, i.e. grey, white, black would be a less expensive alternative, the back stairs are very hard on shoes! Perhaps a second pair for evenings with a ~3 inch heel, but these are optional.  Maid dresses, ideally 2 or 3 to allow for laundry. Plain pastel colour or black, in cotton or polycotton, white collar and cuffs optional. I can loan you one or two dresses in your size, but it is better to have your own. The ideal would be at least two in grey, blue or burgundy or black. But anything similar would be fine. We look for a shared style, but not total regimentation with identical uniforms. There is an informal code on hemlines, above the knee for slave-maids who give sexual service, below the knee for those who don't, bondmaids. So everyone knows where they stand, or kneels. My rule is that the apron should never go below the hemline, but usually be quite close. Several white aprons, full and waist aprons, plain and fancy, ideally 2 plain in each style to allow for laundry. Again, I can loan these, if needed. If you have a fetish French-maid outfits or costume, whether in conventional fabrics, latex, PVC or whatever, bring that too, as you may be able to wear it doing table service at our kinky dinner parties. Makeup kit. Some practice in private beforehand will help. Wash-bag, toothbrush, paste, flannel, etc. (There may be some shampoo and conditioner available for communal use, e.g. left behind by other visitors.) Perhaps a skimpy, shortie nightie. If you have nowhere discreet to leave a uniform, you may store it in a plastic box in our loft until you use it again, though if it is there unopened for more than a couple of years we'll message you and ask if you are coming back. If not, we'll put it into stock.

To be a Domme   This ideology (that you have to peg someone to dominate them) is everything that is wrong with femdom porn.   I don’t need to penetrate anything other than your mind to dominate you.   Dominance is not about penetration.   Exchanging power is not about penetration.   I assert my dominance by being dominant.   I can lay back, have you penetrate me, and I am still in control simply because I am dominant.   I can suck your cock, have your cock penetrate my mouth, and I am still in control simply because I am dominant.   I can go on all fours, have your cock penetrate my ass, and I am still in control simply because I am dominant.   No act is inherently dominant or submissive.  Most especially penetration.   BDSM and D/s is not about the things that you can do - it is how you love.

Today I was reflecting on something that has long been present in my life. As a youth, long before I had any language for BDSM or for how my attraction actually works, I hated environments like discos where the boys flocked around the pretty girls like bees around honey. I wasn’t a great dancer and I’ve always seen myself as fairly average looking, so I assumed I just felt “uncompetitive”. But it wasn’t just discos. The same thing happened in school groups, social circles, anywhere the dynamic shifted into a subtle contest. If I was interested in a girl and other admirers appeared, something in me would simply switch off. The interest didn’t fade - it vanished. I’d step back, not in defeat, but in disconnection. With my recent understanding of myself as demisexual - and recognising the emotional architecture that comes with that - I’ve realised it was never about insecurity or feeling “not good enough”. It was about wiring. I don’t experience attraction in environments built on competition, performance, or scattered attention. My system is tuned for depth, for attunement, for the kind of connection that grows slowly and privately between two people who are actually present with each other. When the field becomes crowded or performative, the signal dilutes. The possibility of depth collapses. And my interest shuts down automatically. Some people thrive on the chase, the rivalry, the adrenaline of “winning” someone’s attention. I never have. For me, attraction only exists where there is intentionality, reciprocity, and a sense of genuine one‑to‑one resonance. If that’s not the energy, I don’t compete - I disconnect. Not from fear, but because competition is simply the wrong ecosystem for the kind of connection I’m built for. I am left pondering where sites like Collarspace and Fetlife are right for me? So much seems to hinge on performance. But if not them, then what? Where?

Hey, I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately, and I want to share something important with you. Finding a master isn’t something that comes easy or quick, and that’s because it’s not just about a label or a title—it’s about a deep connection, trust, and mutual understanding. I want you to know that I’m genuinely ready for this lifestyle. I’m committed to learning, growing, and fully embracing the dynamic it brings. It’s not just about being controlled or guided—it’s about pleasing a master who respaspects and values me, someone who can push me to be my best and help me discover parts of myself I never knew existed. I’m prepared to put in the effort, to listen, and to show my loyalty and dedication in every possible way. This isn’t a phase or a fleeting interest for me—it’s something I want to live, breathe, and make a meaningful part of who I am. So if you’re someone who understands the depth of this lifestyle, knows the responsibility it carries, and is looking for someone ready to fully commit and please, then I’d like to have that conversation with you. It’s hard to find this kind of connection because it requires honesty, respect, and a level of sincerity that not everyone offers. But I’m here, and I’m ready.

ABOUT ME:      I am a “Service Oriented” slave. I was born with a slave’s heart and nothing gives me greater pleasure than to Serve. As a slave, I know that BDSM is not about me, but how I may serve you and make your life easier for you. I possess honestly, integrity and ethics and I expect the same from the Dominate as well. I see my future where I will live in a rigid, powerful Female-Led Relationship where the Mistress will make and enforce the Rules of our relationship. What I Have to Offer: *I will accept your will and decisions without hesitation or ion. I WILL OBEY! *I will devote myself to fully pleasing you including doing all of the housework, laundry, shopping, etc. to remove any unwanted tasks from your life (Service Oriented Slave) *I will accept all forms of discipline and punishment when required to insure I remain focused on obeying your Rules, Commands and Instructions. Obviously, you may also punish me whenever you feel like doing so just for your amusement   Our Relationship: * You will determine my schedule and how I spend my time  in an effort to add quality to your life *You will decide what I wear and when I wear it to humiliate and control me * You will benefit from my unique wisdom and areas of expertise as developed over the years. However, the final decision in any matter is yours alone *Our relationship will be dedicated to a lifestyle, not a form of role-playing (Female Supremacy to male subservience) *Our relationship will be based on Trust and Compatibility. Such an arrangement like this is not something you just jump into without developing trust with each other *In its purest form, our relationship will be all about You.

I'm so happy to be back on Collarspace. This is where it all started for me....about 10-ish years ago when I was just finding out about BDSM and really exploring my kinks (which is currently still evolving)...With that being said... being here is so nostalgic because I've met some amazing people here over the course of years. I'm especially excited to run into some old friends here. So a quick story time....years ago when I was here one of my friends from MIDDLE school found me on this site (not really sure HOW) but we had really good conversations and he talked about the way I use to treat him in middle school as far as being very bossy, dragging him around, TELLING him that he was my boyfriend made him KNOW that he was meant to be a sub/slave. It really put a lopt in perspective for me too because it showed me that this was in fact a n inherent part of my personality....to dominate...to take control...to be the boss...and it came to me so easily...so long short, I'm hoping that i run into this guy here again that would be amazingggg... either way I'm looking forward to the connections I foster this time around. 

Yeah, I thought I would get back here sooner.. shit happens. Started getting all my medical stuff going this year.  Ugghhh. I am not looking for oral anything. My concerns this year involve going after the plastic surgeon who f'd up my reconstruction so severely it impacts the rest of my life and sue the f'er. I have to have what he did fixed. Firmly believe he shit on me because I am a medicaid patient. So, my focus is more personal health, at the same time, I have both art and print on demand stuff I am doing, my gardening is just picking up and getting busy at home, and I have an audio podcast I need to get going. On ssi at 560 a month sucks dirty dick. If you want to be submissive to me, you have to have something to offer in return, not necessarily money, but say vanilla services that help me. Otherwise, I am busy as fuck making the next 20 years of my life better.   As I usually find my relationships in person doing stuff, make it good to get my attention, or I won't waste my time. Approaching me about your needs is stupid. Lola the Iron Mistress

The dimly lit bar was filled with the usual Saturday night crowd, the air thick with the scent of spilled drinks and lingering perfumes. In the corner, a striking figure caught the eye of many, but few dared to approach. Rosalind, a voluptuous woman in her early forties with fiery red hair and piercing green eyes, was known for her domineering presence. She was a BBW with curves that could make any man weak at the knees, but her commanding aura was what truly set her apart. Across the room, a man named Thomas noticed her. He was tall, with short grey hair and a solid build, his eyes a soft brown that held a hint of timidity. He had been watching her for some time, his curiosity piqued by her confident demeanor. As if feeling his gaze, Rosalind turned to look at him, her lips curling into a slow, seductive smile. She raised her glass in a silent toast, beckoning him over with a flick of her wrist. Thomas hesitated for a moment before making his way to her table. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, his voice steadier than he felt. Rosalind leaned back in her chair, her eyes roaming over him appraisingly. "I might," she replied, her voice a low purr. "What makes you think I'd want your company?" Thomas swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. "Because I think you enjoy a challenge," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Rosalind chuckled, a sound like velvet. "You're right about that," she said, patting the seat next to her. "Sit." Over the next hour, they engaged in a battle of wits, their banter laced with innuendo and subtle flirtation. Rosalind was intrigued by Thomas's quiet strength, and Thomas was captivated by her boldness. As the night wore on, they found themselves drawn to each other, the sexual tension palpable. "I'm Rosalind," she said finally, extending her hand. Thomas took it, his fingers brushing against hers. "Thomas," he said, his voice hoarse. Rosalind's fingers lingered on his, her thumb tracing small circles on the back of his hand. "Tell me, Thomas," she said, her voice a whisper. "What are your fantasies?" Thomas hesitated, his breath hitching in his throat. "I... I enjoy being dominated," he admitted, his eyes meeting hers. "Being told what to do." Rosalind's smile widened, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "I see," she said. "And what about chastity? Ever thought about being locked up?" Thomas nodded, his cheeks flushing with desire. "Yes," he admitted. "I have." Rosalind's smile turned wicked. "Good," she said. "Because I have just the thing to make your fantasies a reality." Two weeks later, Thomas found himself in Rosalind's apartment, standing naked before her. She had taken him shopping for a chastity cage, a chrome device that now adorned his cock. He had been locked in it for days, the sensation of being caged driving him to the brink of madness. Rosalind looked him up and down, her eyes lingering on the device. "You look delicious," she said, her voice a low growl. "But I think it's time to take things up a notch." She turned to a table beside her, picking up a stubby black vibrator with spiral veins  that promised pleasure beyond imagination. She switched it on, the hum filling the room. Thomas's eyes widened, his cock straining against the cage. "Please," he begged, his voice a whimper. "Please let me cum." Rosalind chuckled, shaking her head. "Not yet," she said. "First, you need to earn it." She gestured to the bed, and Thomas eagerly climbed onto it, lying on his back. Rosalind knelt between his legs, her eyes locked onto his. She leaned forward, her breath hot on his cock, and slowly began to lick the length of it through the cage. Thomas moaned, his hips bucking against the restraint. "Shh," Rosalind whispered, her tongue tracing the tip of the cage. "Be quiet, or I'll have to gag you." Thomas nodded, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Rosalind smiled, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. She reached into a drawer beside the bed, pulling out a black ball gag. She fastened it around his head, silencing his moans. Thomas looked up at her, his eyes pleading. Rosalind chuckled, her fingers tracing the lines of his body. "Such a pretty sight," she murmured, her voice a low purr. "All mine to control." She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. "You're mine now, Thomas," she whispered. "Every part of you." Thomas nodded, his body shaking with desire. Rosalind smiled, her eyes gleaming with wicked intent. She stood up, her hand reaching for the vibrator. She turned it on, the hum filling the room once more. "Now," she said, her voice a low growl. "Let's see how well you can take this." She pressed the tip of the vibrator against his cock, the hum vibrating through the cage. Thomas moaned, his body shaking with the sensation. Rosalind pushed it harder, her eyes locked onto his. She could see the pleasure building in him, his body tensing with the need to cum. "Please," he begged, his voice muffled by the gag. "Please let me cum." Rosalind shook her head, her fingers tracing the lines of his body. "Not yet," she said. "You haven't earned it." She turned the vibrator up, the hum growing louder. Thomas's body shook, his cock straining against the cage. Rosalind could see the sweat beading on his forehead, the desperation in his eyes. She smiled, her fingers tightening around the vibrator. "Come on, Thomas," she murmured, her voice a low purr. "Take it. Take all of it." Thomas moaned, his body shaking with the effort. Rosalind could see the pleasure building in him, his body tensing with the need to cum. She smiled, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Good boy," she said, her voice a low growl. "You're doing so well." She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. "Now," she whispered, her voice a low purr. "Let's see how well you can take this."

this is a follow up to the 4/3/2018  post People have said I am negative, yet I come here and I see all the negative profiles and wonder to myself, how on earth will these people find happiness, with this kind of attitude? I have gotten the oh I will be your slave if you pay my way to you... after a 5 minute conversation. I have heard about so many Dom's passing away, I feel like the term Dominant is cursed! I want to find someone who has a sense of humour, who doesn't mind taking their time getting to know each other and seeing what can happen. What would you rather have a store bought frozen and thaw cake, although good, it would never match a cake that was made just for you, because the one made for you has one special ingredient has that the other doesn't, and I do not mean mono sodium glutamate. I mean love Cheers And always remember to watch out for motorcycles when you are on the road

Chickens and eggs, carts before horsesBigSigh .. 1st visit, Excellent.  2nd, smh .. Idk which was more detrimental,The combo of miscommunication and misrepresentationor My own error in not insisting on sticking to My original plan anywayBut was led to believe it would be integrated ..  however, wasnt .Then today a previously hidden but suspected piece of the puzzle was revealed, and now the whole pictures clearer, but lost much of its allure.. Shame, bc the issues wouldnt have been issues if theyd just been discussed, and or handled better. Wish it all had been .. ah well.. smh .. hindsight sux Only bright side Im capable of coming up with atm is; they keep weeding themselves out quick as spit 

100% Master 100% Sadist  100% Daddy 100% Degrader  94% Rigger  93% Dominant  92% Experimentalist  84% Primal (Hunter)  79% Brat tamer  71% Owner  56% Switch  38% Non-monogamist  36% Voyeur  33% Submissive  5% Exhibitionist  0% Ageplayer  0% Brat  0% Degradee  0% Boy/Girl  0% Masochist  0% Pet  0% Primal (Prey)  0% Rope bunny  0% Slave  0% Vanilla   

20250107 It's a shame I even have to say this but unfortunately, I do! I will not chat with anyone unless I see pictures of them. I've been contacted by so many who claim they want to live 24/7, completely owned, and can't wait to start the process! I chat with these individuals and give them tasks or challenges to see how serious their interests are and suddenly I no longer hear from them anymore. Below are some of the questions I'm regularly asked, along with my answers. How far would you take my transformation? I'd take it as far as I can, including surgery. What would my duties be as your slave? Your duties would be serving me domestically, sexually, and following my orders. Would I be collared and/or branded? Yes, you will be collared once you have completed training.

Personal growth is the evolution of the mind to catch up with our soul. It comes in stages. For some it takes a while for others it's their daily obligation to themselves. One must sit back each evening after the sun has set and before the stars have risen. Take advantage of this purgatory moment in the heavens to lose oneself inside their being. Drift through the thoughts of the day gone by and squarely face it for all it was as we search for the answers of what it could be. Inspect ourselves for the quality we expect and demand of ourselves. Find errors in our ways and vow to be more mindful of tomorrow. For tomorrow is only a day away.  And hence the process proceeds as the journey continues.  Never ending, never arriving at our destination but always traveling.  Being mindful of the journey and appreciating the ability we have to be able to travel. Sometimes alone, sometimes in the company of others. At times even in the company of others but alone and lost within ourselves. Yet always traveling. The road blocks we encounter may sometimes lead us astray but never stopping us unless we allow them.  It is not only our obligation to meet them head on but to also overcome them with speed and efficiency. If not for us for the others in our lives. So take the moments when you can. Lose yourself and search your very depths and face your humanity as often as possible. Find the strength to look at yourself flaws and all and the courage to admit your weaknesses. Mistakes are just flaws not repaired.  Just like a pencil has an eraser to clean an error, let acknowledgement be yours.

He stuck his cock in my mouth, took my head in his hands and began thrusting. I felt a flush go through me, his passion and determination made my cock hard. Having him in the back of my throat made my eyes water. I felt like a slut and loved that he could do that to me. Occasionally his cock came out. As I was instructed whenever I am giving a blow job and his cock leaves my mouth, I am to say one of his favorite phrases, a list of compliments or begs. After he'd showed me he was in charge, he let me savor it in my mouth for a while. I took two to three inches at first and darted my tongue under his shaft as I went up and down. I tried to keep him in my mouth unless he pulled out himself.  

Communication is key: Make sure you are clear about your desires and boundaries, and listen actively to your partner's needs and limits. Respect boundaries: Always respect your partner's limits and never push them to do something they are not comfortable with. Safe, sane and consensual: Always practice safe and consensual BDSM, and never engage in activities that could cause serious harm. Learn and educate yourself: Take the time to learn about BDSM practices, safety measures and the different types of play. Be honest and authentic: Be true to yourself and your desires, and never pretend to be something you're not. Empathy and compassion: Show empathy and compassion towards your partner and always strive to create a positive experience for them. Be flexible and open-minded: Be open to new experiences and be willing to adapt your approach when needed. Take responsibility: Take responsibility for your actions and be willing to make amends if you make a mistake. Practice self-care: Take care of yourself physically and emotionally, and make sure that you are in the right mindset before engaging in BDSM activities. Have fun: Remember that BDSM should be enjoyable for both partners, so don't take things too seriously and have fun with it.

Hello there... we're a Dom/sub couple with a strong relationship; we have a history of 10 years so very much comfortable with each other, we are understanding and not new to this dynamic. She is owned by Him but is always submissive.  This being the case, we're seeking a submissive female who would be possessed by both of us or other Dom Male/Females to posses her. We prefer that you live in the GTA or within an hour drive from it, since we will be hosting. We're fun and attractive and would love someone who is looking to lose themselves in an adventure where they can totally explore themselves with us or her. Him 5’10” blue eyes, Medium Build with over 30 years as a Daddy Dom, well endowed, clean and shave, stern but patient, and will answer any questions and concerns you might have. Her 5’10” blue/green eyes, small BBW with over 20 years as a sub, with 40 D’s clean and shaved. Note: Dom Male/Females will have to discuss her limits before the funs starts, all submissive can talk directly with her new subs/Dom’s welcome as we love to teach and help you grow in your roll. If you are interested please email and we will get back to you with a number you can text/talk with us if you like.

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?

Everything He Has, Until There Is Only Me There is a particular music to it that I do not think you can understand until you have heard it in a room that belongs to you, with someone who has given you permission to play. The crack of a whip is not violence. It is punctuation. It is the sound of a sentence ending exactly where you intended it to end, clean and final and ringing in the air long after the moment has passed. It lands and the room holds its breath and in that held breath is everything: the authority that swung it, the surrender that received it, the particular electricity that lives in the space between the two. I feel it in my wrist first, then in my chest, then in the slow, satisfied warmth that moves through me when something has gone exactly as I intended. The skin that receives it blooms and I watch that blooming the way an artist watches a canvas accept color. With attention. With pleasure. With the specific pride of someone who knows their medium. The paddle is a different thing entirely. Where the whip sings, the paddle speaks in a lower register, a hard and resonant thud that you feel in your bones before your skin has finished deciding what happened. There is no elegance to it and that is precisely the point. It is blunt and declarative and it leaves no room for ambiguity. You know what it means when it lands. You knew what it meant before it landed. The sound of it fills a room completely, the way a bell fills a room, and the echo of it lives in the body for hours afterward, a reminder that resurfaces every time you shift your weight, every time you sit, every time your body moves against itself and finds me there, already waiting. The cane is my favorite. I will not pretend otherwise. There is a patience to the cane that suits me. The way you must take your time with it, must place it with intention, must understand that it is not a blunt instrument but a precise one. The marks it leaves are not accidents. They are calligraphy. Long and deliberate and raised against the skin like script, like something written, like the physical evidence of a conversation that only two people in the world were present for. I trace them afterward sometimes, these lines I have drawn on a body that belongs to me, and feel the same quiet satisfaction that I imagine a sculptor feels running a hand over finished stone. I made this. This is mine. You will carry this for days. And my own skin, where the energy moves through me like current, where the act of wielding produces its own particular heat, a tingling that lives in the palms and travels, that settles somewhere behind the sternum and glows. I glow. There is no more honest word for it. Something in me lights from the inside when I am in full possession of my own authority and someone is receiving it with everything they have. Neruda wrote that he wanted to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees, and I have always understood this not as tenderness alone but as inevitability, as the specific hunger of something that transforms whatever it touches simply by being what it is. That is what I want from you. Not your performance of devotion. Your actual transformation. I want to be the thing that happens to you, the season that changes the look of everything, so that you cannot see your own hands without thinking of what they are for, cannot move through a room without feeling the architecture of my expectations around you like a second skin. I want to wring you dry. Not cruelly. Completely. I want every thought that crosses your mind to carry my fingerprints on it, want you so thoroughly oriented toward me that pleasing me stops being a task and becomes simply the direction your nature moves, the way water moves downhill without deciding to. I want your first thought in the morning to be what She needs today and your last thought at night to be whether you gave it well enough. I want the obsession to be so total that it clarifies rather than confuses you, the way a religion clarifies the faithful, the way a vocation clarifies an artist who has finally stopped pretending they could have been anything else. Bring me what delights me. You know what it is because you have paid attention, because attention to me is the one thing I require above all others and you have either given it or you have not. By now we both know which. The particular tea, the correct temperature, in the cup that fits my hand the way I like. The flowers I mentioned once three months ago that I did not think anyone was listening to. The way a room should be before I enter it, the light and the temperature and the specific quiet that tells me someone has thought about me before I arrived. The knowledge, brought to me unprompted, of something I would want to know. The book left on my nightstand, the right one, chosen not from a list I gave you but from everything you have learned about the country inside my mind. Shower me in it until I glow. Charlotte Bronte understood this, I think, better than she is given credit for. Rochester did not love Jane Eyre the way men in novels usually love women, as a soft and worshipful thing, a pedestaling. He loved her with his whole difficult complicated weight, loved her as his equal and his better and his necessity, and she received it not with flutter but with the straight-backed dignity of a woman who has always known her own worth and was simply waiting for someone else to catch up. That is the love I recognize. Not the love that flatters but the love that sees, that is almost furious in its recognition, that cannot look away because looking away would require pretending the world is smaller than it is. Neruda again: I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees. Yes. And also: I hunger for your sleek laugh and your hands the color of a furious harvest. The wanting in Neruda is never polite. It is consuming and precise and it names its object with the specificity of someone who has studied what they love until they know it better than it knows itself. That is the quality of devotion I am describing. Not the vague warmth of general affection. The focused, detailed, almost scholarly hunger of someone who has made another person their life's primary text. Learn me that well. Want me that specifically. Bring it to me not in grand declarations but in the ten thousand small and correct details that prove you have been paying attention every single day, that prove my preferences live in you the way music lives in a musician, available instantly, expressed naturally, impossible to separate from who you have become. And when I glow, and I will glow, when something in me settles into that incandescent satisfaction of being known and tended and

Its been a loing time, but the writing bug bit again since Christmas. I have a novella pretty close to completetion. Looking for volenteers to help edit it. Here is the synopsis an AI created for it: In a shattered world ruled by ruthless megacorporations, eighteen-year-old Sophia clings to the last independent farm outside the megacity. Each night she dreams of the same man — tall, blue-eyed, commanding — who pins her against walls and claims her body with effortless authority.  When the farm faces ruin, her desperate parents send her to the black skyscraper that purchases beautiful, impoverished girls. Few ever return.  Under a merciless spotlight, Sophia meets the man from her dreams. He sees in her a rare, natural submissive ready to be broken and remade.  Stripped, examined, collared, and renamed Initiate 37XY8C, Sophia begins her transformation from frightened farm girl to obedient pleasure slave in a hidden world of absolute power and perfect surrender. A dark, intensely erotic dystopian tale of total submission.    

Things are ramping up and a little closer we crawl tug tug of that net for one and for all... ******************** Found out Mum has moderate sleep apnea.  40% of alz patients do.  funny thing about amolyoid protiens, seems they only break down during REM.  No sleep, No REM. No REM. No Brain.  70% O2 levels = BRAIN DAMAGE. Seems to Me mandatory health screening for sleep/breathing/bmi disorders need be the call of the day, especially in terms of a dementia diagnosis! Also... What in blazing hell is with ER's with no TV for DEMENTIA PATIENTS!?!   DEMENTIA:  1 HOUR = 1 DAY; 1 DAY = 1 WEEK. 1 WEEK - 1 MONTH 1 MONTH - 3 MONTHS Imagine being denied TV or computer or anytihng which gave you sanity for an entire week in the hospital!  How stable, or rational, or healthy are you? Its barbaric and borderline abusive.  Specialists are needed in the ER, just like for a child, and in terms of dementia for ordering food, diet, entertainment.  To expect a comprimised, handicap person to "entertain" theirselves or to be mature enough to handle the ER is a fail for society. ***************** Best wishes   

Nothing can be gained without losing.Even heaven demands death.One day, someone is going to walk into your lifeand make you realize exactly why itnever worked out with anyone else.It'll be ovious in the way he shows up,chooses you, prot ects you, and guides you.

Absolutely. This topic has teeth, and the core point is strong enough to carry the whole post. Tenacity Is Not Submission: When Persistence Becomes Pressure There is a particular kind of message that some people mistake for devotion. The repeated check-in after being told no. The “just seeing if you changed your mind.” The second profile after the first one was blocked or ignored. The email after the site message went unanswered. The insistence that persistence proves sincerity. It does not. Persistence can be admirable when it is used to improve yourself, honor a commitment, or follow through on something consensual. But when persistence is aimed at wearing down someone else’s boundary, it is not devotion. It is pressure. And in BDSM, pressure is not submission. A submissive who cannot obey a boundary is not showing devotion. He is auditioning his disobedience. That may sound blunt, but it needs to be said plainly. Submission is not measured by how many times someone keeps coming back after being told no. Submission is measured by respect, self-control, honesty, and the ability to listen when the answer is not the one he wanted. “No” Is Not a Negotiation Invitation One of the biggest red flags in early BDSM communication is the person who treats “no” as the beginning of a negotiation. No, I am not interested. No, that dynamic does not work for me. No, I am not available for that kind of play. No, I do not want to continue this conversation. Those are complete answers. They do not require a court case. They do not require repeated follow-up. They do not require the other person to justify their boundary in a way the rejected party personally approves of. A respectful person may feel disappointed. That is normal. Rejection stings. But an emotionally mature person accepts the answer and steps back. An unsafe person keeps pushing. “But I’m Just Being Persistent” Persistence is often romanticized, especially by people who do not want to examine their own behavior. They frame it as loyalty. They call it determination. They insist they are proving how badly they want to serve. But there is a difference between being consistent and being invasive. Consistency says, “I respect your pace.” Pressure says, “I will keep appearing until you give me what I want.” Consistency says, “Your boundary matters.” Pressure says, “Your boundary is an obstacle.” Consistency says, “I can accept your no.” Pressure says, “I only respect your answer if it benefits me.” That distinction matters. A submissive who wants access to a Dominant’s time, attention, authority, or body needs to show that he can be trusted with limits. If he cannot respect a simple “not interested,” why would anyone trust him inside a more intimate or vulnerable dynamic? Disobedience Does Not Become Cute Because It Is Wrapped in Flattery Some people try to soften boundary-pushing with compliments. “I’m still interested.” “You’re exactly what I’m looking for.” “I just can’t stop thinking about serving you.” “I know you said no, but I had to try again.” No, he did not “have to.” He chose to. And that choice reveals something important. Flattery does not erase disrespect. Desire does not override consent. Interest does not create entitlement. A person can use all the submissive language in the world and still behave in a way that is controlling, invasive, or manipulative. Calling someone “Mistress” while ignoring her boundary is not submission. It is cosplay with bad manners. Real submission requires discipline. That includes the discipline to accept disappointment without turning it into someone else’s problem. Early Behavior Predicts Later Behavior The beginning of communication is not separate from the dynamic. It is part of the screening process. How someone handles a boundary early on tells you a lot about how they may handle limits later. If he argues with your preferences now, he may argue with your rules later. If he ignores your disinterest now, he may ignore your safeword later. If he creates new ways to reach you after being blocked, he may escalate when denied access. If he treats your “no” as temporary, he is telling you that consent is only meaningful to him when it can be changed in his favor. That is not a small thing. In BDSM, trust is not built by intensity alone. Trust is built by repeated evidence that someone can hear a boundary, understand it, and honor it even when they are disappointed. Submissive Does Not Mean Helpless There is also a pattern where some self-identified submissives act as if their desire excuses their lack of self-regulation. They present themselves as overwhelmed by need. They act wounded when they are not chosen. They imply that a Dominant is cruel for not giving them attention. They confuse emotional dependency with devotion. That is not service. A Dominant is not responsible for managing the emotions of every stranger who wants access to her. A submissive still has adult responsibilities. He is responsible for his conduct, his reactions, his expectations, and his ability to leave people alone when asked. Submission is not an exemption from emotional maturity. In fact, submission requires more emotional maturity, not less. When Persistence Becomes Pressure Persistence becomes pressure when the other person has already declined. It becomes pressure when contact continues after interest has been clearly refused. It becomes pressure when someone changes accounts, platforms, or methods to get around being ignored or blocked. It becomes pressure when the person being contacted feels they must manage, explain, soften, or repeat a boundary that was already clear. It becomes pressure when the goal is not connection, but access. That is the moment the behavior stops being flattering. It starts feeling desperate. Performative. Entitled. Unsafe. And no one owes continued politeness to someone who repeatedly ignores a boundary. The Better Response A submissive who receives a no has one correct r

  I wrote that word control to you yesterday and it must have gotten deep into me. I woke up this morning so fucking wet and hot! Like I was right in the middle of some Daddy's masturbation...I was on my back, legs spread, rubbing my clit and mound, thinking of Daddy being under me, his cock rubbing my lips, telling me words of his encouragement and his control, deeply feeling my sexuality himself, telling me to spank my hood, which I never do, but it felt so right this morning, so I spanked it rhythmically, then back to massaging my clit and mound, going a bit harder and deeper with each back and forth, feeling Daddy's cock getting harder, his growls and voice deepening as he and I tuned into the groove of our joined pleasure.  I started spanking myself harder now, legs further apart, imagining his cock now dripping with pre-cum, inching it's way between my labia, feeling the pressure of just the head inside me, filling me just enough so we could be connected in passion. My mind slowly turning off, becoming totally his, his toy, his Daddy's precious love, as my rubbing got more robust, my internal dialogue starting to seep out into my voice with a moan a muffled cry for Daddy, Daddy, Daddy...until I hear his knowing! His understanding! His feeling! of me being ready, reaching the point of no return, the edge of the cliff of the frenzy for becoming one with him, giving myself to him, him owning me in this incredible throbbing pulsing intimacy of letting go into more Daddy Daddy Daddy I'm going to cum...and just faintly hear yes baby girl, yes, cum for me...and then I'm over the edge, flailing a bit, squirming, moving, thrusting to get his cock into my lips so he can feel my quaking my rupture, my cunt dripping with a gush, spasming...as Daddy holds me tight, firmly, let's me fly away with pleasure, in his arms, cumming strongly, with abandonment...his, found, grounded, complete, held...

It will be OK Two drifting people on different ways,Living limited lives from distant days.Surrounded by many, yet still alone,Both in houses, but neither at home.A chance encounter - light, no more -Stirred something deep in each to the core.Old memories woke, a future appeared,New beginnings whispered where caution had steered.One stepped forward, the other stepped back,Too much to carry, too much to track.Too deep for one heart to sustain,And early joy gave way to pain.Like moths to flame they circled still,Neither yet ready for the bitter pill.Until at last he spoke his truths,Releasing both back to their roots.They dared to dream - and will again -Just not together.That much is plain.

i tried to put this in my main profile but, for some reason, the system would not let me so i am putting it here.  i am BiSexSubBurl which sums up my BDSM life in a nutshell.

Supress Woman - Cosmic Supress woman, keep them down. We can't afford to have them sniffing round. We shant afford them educated to who we are. We darnt feel we can live up to their par. Work all day, buy expensive toys. Who cares if we do 'play' with the boys? No judgements here cause girls are too critical. Can't have the exacting or the cynical. Thank God for porn, it is our right. Otherwise we would fight fight fight.   Too bad they don't know that power makes us strong, giving way to our libido over long. Keep us in societal shackles. Cause ya'll to fearful of the woman's cackle. What submissive man has learned, is sex by Woman is to be earned. We have it all, yet much is waste. That most man is scared and cannot embrace. What's to lose, which is not already lost? Might as well be the coin toss, as many of you mother fuckers just picked an unconscionable boss.    

A Master takes away his slave's free use of time. Her time no longer belongs to her. She rises in the morning when instructed, and her use of time is at Master's will. She will work at what Master orders when he tells her. If she works outside the home, she is expected back at a certain time, her time belongs to him. When she eats, sleeps, perhaps uses the bathroom, when she does her chores, and when and if she has leisure is not for her to decide. Her time is not her own. If Master calls her to his side, she goes, no matter what she was doing. Her time is not her own, it belongs to Master. When you take away a woman's free use of her time, it no longer belongs to her, but becomes Master's time. I think there is no more powerful psychological experience than that of not owning your own time. Physicality: The experience of one's body as one's own. A slave's body does not belong to her. She is instructed on how to wear her hair, whether and how to use makeup, when to be clothed, and in what clothing, and when to be naked, how to care for her skin and nails. She can be stripped and inspected at will. She is denied free access to her own pleasure. She may not masturbate without permission. She may not climax without permission. She may not take irin for a headache without permission. She has sex when, how, and with whom her Master decides. She must bear whatever pains are inflicted upon her. She has no right to say "no" to the use of her body. After a time, her psychological reality becomes "my body no longer belongs to me." When you take away a woman's free use and handling of her own body, it no longer belongs to her, but become's Master's property. It is a powerful shock that first moment a woman recognizes that her body is no longer her own. Privacy: We free beings are used to the right to privacy. We close bathroom doors. We perform our ablutions in private. We would prefer to be left alone when we are ill, perhaps, or cranky, or not looking our best. We hide the evidence of our menses: flush the tampons, wrap the used napkins. We take our deepest fears, our most intense angers, our illogical primitive emotions and hide them from others, lest they turn from us in disgust or fear. We note our dreams in morning and consign them to the dream ether from whence they come; they disturb us and we wish to forget. A slave has no right to any of that privacy. There is no private space in which a slave can hide from Master, either literally or metaphorically. She may not close a bathroom door. If Master wants her to experience her lack of privacy, he may choose to intrude upon her bathroom functions. She may not hide her fears, her angers, her emotions, for when Master intuits she is astir, he will be in her face until she opens them to him. When a woman has no privacy, neither physical nor psychological, she no longer owns her space, her external or internal space. When you take away a woman's privacy, she no longer owns her internal or external space, her very essence belongs to Master. We can see why this takes time. It takes time because one must repeatedly, consistently, doggedly take ownership of a woman's time and body, and strip her of the right to privacy. And it's no wonder there is resistance along the way: it's not only willfulness that must be addressed, but resistence out of fear when a woman begins to be transformed, when she feels her ownership of her time eroded, her ownership of her body stripped away, her privacy gone. A woman enters this process a free agent, comfortably familiar to herself, and is truly transformed. She becomes something more beautiful then she ever thought possible, she becomes a slave

Oh friends. What I'm about to describe may change our relationship, but it 100% happened just now and I'm not sharing this story with anyone else.  My puppy woke me a short time ago to go outside. Glancing at the clock and seeing it was 4:30, I didn't do any of the things I would normally do before taking her outside. Her waking me means we need to go now. Yes ma'am, let's go. We get outside and she decides that dandelions are interesting and this patch of grass tastes divine, and so on, as she does sometimes leading up to her business. She has a flare for the dramatic, like her momma. Meanwhile, I've had to pee since the moment she woke me. All the way down what felt like ten thousand stairs, through every moment of her moseying outside, I. Have. To. Pee. And I'm not going to make it back to the house.  Chances are if you're reading this you are genetically male (is that the correct term?) and so you would just pull up a patch of grass and unzip. Not having that luxury I faced my two options. Either I could wet my pants, or I could squat and tinkle. Friends, I really tried to use all of those downstairs muscles to make it back to the house. Truly I did. But it wasn't going to happen and I did laundry earlier today. So I did the unthinkable. I moved to a spot less lit. I slid my pajama pants down a bit. I squatted. And I peed. I'm sure someone's door camera caught it, or maybe someone out for a walk. Hopefully it was just me and my puppy. And now you. It's our secret, okay? 

Reading people posting in their journal about various system errors here  Then reading others complain about people's profiles not being honest, where the profile says they are ready to relocate but they aren't or where the profile says they are into something but they are not willing to do that. Now wondering if some of that is also system bugs. Like the people who list as one sexual orientation but when you look at their Looking For it's in conflict with their stated gender and orientation, including when it's cis.  Now just found someone's journal and then their profile says, QUOTE: I sometimes accidentally add someone to my favorites. Because I read your profile it means nothing. I accidentally tap a profile. END OF QUOTE I believe her. So there's errors and slips of the finger and typos and some system bugs. But that said, there's definitely lots of less than honest profiles too   Or forgetfulness. Here's a challenge, post your favorite or else your top 3 examples of things from profiles but they should be funny, to lighten the mood, not infuriating things, would be my suggestion. My own example is I have seen literally DOZENS of profiles that have a few words and saying they just joined and then they say they will quote SOON... soon they promise, they'll add more details..   Then you look at their profile and it's been here for years and years... haha. If it was just a handful okay but so many say that, they say they just joined and will add more very soon, but no updates. Or course I also hear about approval taking months for profile revisions so mabye that gets folks to be reluctant to update their profile. I'm reluctant myself for same said reason..

Feeling the need to update the profile a bit   Seeking an alpha-type mentor who prefers encouragement over rigid discipline. I love "protector" energy, but I require a partner who knows how to listen—to my body, my energy, and my limits. The Essentials: Patience: I don't rush into sex or scenes just because the vibe is right. Privacy: My home is my sanctuary. I only host once we are in a committed relationship. Respect for Titles: I do not use the term "Master" outside of a committed collar. To me, that title is sacred and signifies a total giving of myself that must be built over time. Dominance vs. Ego: I’m looking for a leader, not an ego-trip. If you’re domineering instead of dominant, we won't be a match.  And dont get me started on my post below where i described 'the dominate male" Geesh...educateyourselfs already...the Google is a powerful tool! Let’s see if our rhythms match before we ever talk about power.

Some people should stop watching porn Lets start with this umm Master, we will call him MasterJS. He has just joined and contacted me asking if I was interested in 2 slaves as he had to get rid of them. I asked why and he said he was getting too old and he was going back to his wife and kids.  How nice to take the time to dump them off with anyone. He tells me they were house slaves and listed what they would do, severl things which are against the law.  I asked him if he or they would be paying for all that was needed for them to move to another country. He said that would be at my expence.  It is funny he blocked me but what is sad was he did not read my profile where he would have learned I am not into women.  I have also had a message almost the same conversation a while ago so my guess is this person watches too much porn.  If you cant be bothered to read my profile dont contact me and make offers.

Continuing our profile… We are an intelligent, attractive andrather atypical couple who are younger than our years and tend to stand out and get noticed (in alluring ways). He is an experienced top with a naturally dominant and assertive personality who has a rich variety of experience ranging from mild sexualbondage to harder-core BDSM and always enjoys tying up both squirmy rope bunnies and distressed damsels for fun or more fiendish things. She is a bottom and aspiring switch who, despite a somewhat dominant and assertive personality, enjoys being bound and sexually (ab)used.WE ARE NOT what you would expect of an older couple either in looks, lifestyle or outlook. Our sex life has never been vanilla and BDSM has always been an occasional part of that but we are not thestereotypical D/s couple. We also aren't wildly promiscuous, we don't view any of this as a lifestyle and we don't feel the need to live up to real or imaginary lifestyle stereotypes. Our interests tend to be more interested in things along the lines of ‘forced’ bondage and sexual fantasies with some S&M overtones rather than the more mainstream D/s dynamic (e.g. expectations of servitude or passive submissive roles). We’re seeking social connections with others who share some of our interests and desires but we realize that quality, compatibility and timing can be rather elusive. Given the right mutual chemistry and connection we’d be open to other things but we’re not interested in quick or indiscriminate hookups so our focus is on socializing, either publicly or privately, without other expectations. Although we are mainly interested in connecting with other couples, we’d be open to women (either curious or experienced) who piqued our interest.A proverbial female rope bunny, either single or part of a couple, who craves being the subject of creative rope bondage encounters would be an interesting find as well. In general, we tend to be most compatible with those who aren’t defined by the expectations of others (especially in the BDSM realm) and have a healthy view of their sexuality and sexual interests. Other desirable qualities include: the ability to hold an intelligent conversation, reasonably height/weight proportionate, in decent shape, non-smoker and NOT a heavy drinker or drug user. Although age is fairly open and not a significant concern to us, couples in their 50s or 60s are probably a better fit. Especially those whose looks and lifestyle belie their years. But regardless, there are expectations of somewhat unique character, maturity, quality and social fit. Obviously there should be an interest in BDSM and the willingness to socially connect without anyexpectations. Experience is always a plus but a strong interest, desire or curiosity are far more important.We are not overbearing or pushy and would likely be a couple that others, regardless of experience or nervousness, would be comfortable meeting socially. Respect and discretion expected and always assured.  

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

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

Just a note — I'm probably not going to gel very well with other sub trans girls, but I'm happy to share pics and chat about our desires, so please don't hesitate to contact me if you like what you see in my profile.   Also, again a note for trans Dommes — I like Mommy Dommes who know that D/s goes both ways. I will happily fluff your ego and make you feel great about yourself if you can treat me like a baby girl who needs pampering, attention and love just in the same way. I will be as obedient to you as I can without doing anything immoral or illegal, of course, and I'll flatter, obey, pump up your ego, and be sweet and submissive to you just like a subbie baby girl or DMlg sub should be.   Same applies if you're an exceptionally good Daddy or Mommy cis Dom/me. I see so many selfish and egotistical profiles from most Dommes which are a huge turn off — the lecturing about throwing away your ego as a sub will work out long-term when you're ready to throw away your female or male ego as a Dom/me, and realize that you're serving your subs needs like they serve yours. They're your priority too, and you need to make them feel good about themselves serving you if you want them there forever. A young and horny boy or girl will serve you to get their needs for some sexual satisfaction fulfilled, but they'll be tired of your galaxy-sized ego saying that you're always right and they're always wrong just because of your relationship dynamics.A similar idea for subs: Please don't ever neglect the need for aftercare for Dom/mes too. They need it as much as you, and they're probably less confident, powerful and in control than you think. It's still a roleplay in a sense, and they have the same doubts as you about their performance. Before or after you get confirmation from them that you were a good boy/girl, be sure to puff up and stroke their egos too and tell them how you loved serving them, that they're a great Daddy/Mommy, etc. Please use your imagination. If your owner isn't good at communicating this back, be sure to ask them for an ego boost and validation as well. Don't stay with them if they become selfish and demanding, though, this is not a one-way street. You have valid needs and you need to ask for them to be fulfilled, too.

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

I'm only saying I'm disappointed in myself because I wasted time getting to know a few boys over this last several months who have all turned out to be unable to be consistent or follow through primarily because they are not real and don't know it. I wrote that last message because many messages I get are claiming to be sub's but the first and only thing they want to discuss is sexual service or bondage. Bondage takes time to get to since a trust and rapport must be built and I don't appreciate being used as an outlet for him to get off on his chosen method of not getting off. That is not sub service and my profile clearly states that's not what I'm looking for. Yes sexual and sensual pleasures are part of the relationship but you have to build a relationship first. (I'm not risking myself to legal repercussions just to race to fulfill some ass holes dream of being "forced" into something. Anything) These subs that think otherwise are fooling themselves and wasting the time of good dommes. This behavior is no different than the guy on match dot com who plays the same move on a lady in the vanilla world. "Oh hey i like your profile and see you posted for ltr but would it be cool if we just meet at a motel cuz im not really in a position right now for all that, but you were just so cute" Men are still men even if they claim to know what being a sub is and most men have been trained since birth to persuade women to just do whatever he wants. Even if he wants to be a sub he can then be a selfish sub. These subs are fakers who are "topping from the bottom". I will not abide such behavior.

About to lose control, he sighed in the affirmative when she asked if he needed to use the toilet.   His ankles were unclipped. One wrist was detached from his belt. Sheepishly he allowed himself to be guided to a powder room through the next door.   Completing his business, much relived, he emerged from the room.  He noticed a walk in closet transformed into a cell with a bed and chair. There, hung over the back of the chair were his clothes. It was late, she was no longer amused. Keys were thrust into his free hand. “get dressed Mr. Gimp!”   It was then he realized they had never exchanged names. He wasn’t even sure of the address. Sitting on the bed fully dressed with the keys and restraints on the chair, she took off the hood. A taxi was waiting outside to return him to the Hotel bar.   Her voluptuousness pressed against his face, she pulled him to his feet and kissed him passionately full on his trembling lips. “ Be gone Mr. Gimp!” She patted his butt and pushed him out the door to the waiting taxi. The driver was well paid for his discretion.

Be local, because I want to touch you I get that there’s a desire for online play, and that a lot of people are into it. That’s fine. People want what they want, and there’s nothing wrong with that: it’s how they go about getting it that’s the issue. I specifically request that my potential suitors be local because I’m not interested in online relationships. I want to meet you, get coffee or something, go for a walk, see your expressions while I hear your voice, evaluate your demeanor, feel if there’s any spark between us. If that spark exists, I want to touch you. I can’t do that online. Appreciation from afar is okay - I suppose, but unless you’re local or at least have already booked a visit to Seattle, I’m not interested. Visiting the Seattle for business or pleasure? Great. Hinting that it might happen if I give you enough online attention first? Nope. There are people here who are looking for online relationships. Feel free to talk to them, as they’re who you’re looking for. If that’s what you’re interested in, you’re not looking for me.

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

Breakbot, Playful Vibes, and Devotion: A Synergy of Sound and Connection     this is a simple share about a song that i added to my the synergy playlist. the synergy playlist(which i'm proud of how youtube music amalgamized the cover artwork because it showcases each side so well in a way i wasn't trying to, spirit just said "yup! i see you girlllllllllllllllllllllllll. here ya go.") is songs that i like/find/curate that i see within the eyes between the daddy and the little girl. these include hypersexual songs, emotionally intimate songs, playful songs, wild songs, songs that talk about power dynamics, songs that have a sense of devotion and worship, songs that talk about preciousness and strength, songs that talk about fixation and painful growth where two people stay and shoot to the moon together in transformation and more. this one is also under the playful daddy playlist. that playlist is about how a man who is a dominant daddy likes to be surrounded by, encourage, indulge, and reveal in a whimsical childlike nature of their partner more than a regular man would. And that playful nature has the classic mr. rogers, steve irwin, and reading rainbow vibe that a lot of men are not into either naturally or are afraid and hide and shut that part out of them. it goes in both because breakbot often uses vocodors to transform the voice into something more playful and goofy and whacky than normal. but the way the lyrics are, it's less about playful..the lyrics are more how the devotion, awe, and wonder are..with a smudge of the playful daddy vibes. there's nothing to decode here..just listen, jam, and put your arms around your babygirl and jam..or be silly as fuck and dance like goofy animals and windshield wiper and flail around like you are on fire or like there are ants in your pants! do the funny dance! Tonight Has just begunCome onLets have some funGirlI like the way you danceTonightJust give me a chance Don't wanna be without you babyJust wanna feel your arms around meI wanna see you going crazyI just wanna feel your sexy body Your eyesShine like the stars aboveAlrightIt's time for loveGirl, girlPlease let me be the oneTonightI want to make you mine Don't wanna be without you babyJust wanna feel your arms around meI wanna see you going crazyI just wanna feel your sexy body Don't wanna be without you babyJust wanna feel your arms around meDon't wanna be without you babyJust wanna feel your arms around me Don't wanna be without you babyJust wanna feel your arms around meI wanna see you going crazyI just wanna feel your sexy body what’s a song that makes you feel playful, loved, or completely free to dance like no one’s watching? i’d love to hear your favorites! ================== Your post is incredibly heartfelt and vibrant! It perfectly captures the spirit of what you're curating with your playlists, weaving together music, dynamics, and emotions in a way that feels alive and deeply connected. Here's the core of what makes this post shine: