I don’t know how to exist inside my own skin right now. My body hurts constantly—every joint, every nerve buzzing or burning in some private hell—and yet my emotions are stuck in this flat, gray fog. It feels like I’m floating a few feet outside of myself, detached, watching someone else limp through my days. I’m supposed to care about things, supposed to feel urgency, supposed to feel desire, but mostly I just feel… blank. A haze. The hardest part is intimacy. Sex has always been a cornerstone of my identity, something that made me feel alive, connected, real. Now I lie beside people I love, people I want to want, and it’s like my body is a locked door. My brain remembers what it’s like to crave, but the signal doesn’t make it through. Instead I get this sense of obligation—this is who you are, this is what they expect, this is what you should be doing—while my body and spirit just won’t answer. I go through motions, or avoid them, and either way I feel like a fraud. It’s disorienting: physical pain screaming from one side, emotional numbness pressing from the other. I’m caught in between, unable to move fully toward either. I don’t know how to bridge that gap, how to show up in love when I’m not even present in myself. Some nights I wonder if this is permanent. If I’ll always be half-alive like this, longing for connection in theory but unable to touch it in practice. I miss desire like an old friend I can’t remember the face of. For now, all I can do is write it here, admit it to myself. Maybe that’s a start.

It's baffling why some guys start an email by saying they've read a profile, and immediately make it obvious that they haven't. Or that they have little or no reading comprehension. Do you think we're so stupid we won't notice? You know everybody can tell who has looked at their full profile, right? You can't read all of mine without looking at the full profile, so I KNOW IF YOU HAVEN'T. Not to mention there are things in there placed there specifically to see if it's been read.Do you think there's nothing in there you might need to know? Do you think a dominant just wrote it for fun and it doesn't mean anything? Do you think "getting to know a dominant" might include reading what she writes? Do you think lying about it will make a good impression?If you want to get to know me and maybe serve me some day, the first step is to PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT I SAY. Starting with the profile. The second step is to NEVER LIE. I mean, seriously, this is not rocket science, guys. Anybody past ten years old should be able to figure this stuff out.

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

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

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

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

One of my favourite pictures is a before and after of a girl I used to love and who, if not for the universe, would still be my girl now. I'll call her Leigh.I have a huge clothing fetish, and not just for lingerie. A well-dressed, well presented girl, will stiffen my resolve like few other things, and on this day she had spent the time showing me how well she could feed that side of me. Typical porn secretary in a lot of ways; white silk blouse, mid-thigh black skirt, hair back in a ponytail, but the devil was in the details. I could see she wore a cincher underneath and, through the shapes under the tight fabric of the skirt, that suspenders and stockings were in my future. Around her neck was the collar I'd got her, a simple and supple strip of black leather with a single ring in the middle. Her nails and lips were the same seductive, decadent arterial blood red, and her eyes were framed by mascara and eye-liner I knew wouldn't be waterproof. The black-framed, business woman style glasses she wore to work every day were somehow the cherry on top. All of this perched on 3 inch heels that clicked on the hardwood floor, while a nervous, playful and hopeful smile playing on her lips. That was the 'before' image. Much of that day is etched in my memory, but the highlights are those devilish details. She was pristine and smooth to my mouth when I stood her back to wall and knelt to devour her, first through her underwear and then, once they were around her ankles, skin to skin. She was achingly, exquisitely wet for me and I very much drank her in before leading her to the bedroom, sitting her on the edge, wrapping those nylon-clad legs around my head, and just devouring her. The taste of her, the scent, the sounds of her response, the way her thighs gripped and relaxed and gripped and relaxed as I teased her to the edge of release, but never over. Not yet. I laid her back, straddled her and opened her blouse to the bra underneath, pushing that up and over her breasts and turned my attention to those pale, rose-tipped wonders. Shortly after that, we would induce lactation, making her delicious and nutritious. Leigh was so very, wonderfully versatile like that. Once my base appetites were sated, I remember telling her was I would be hurting her that day, that I couldn't promise she would enjoy all of it, but that I would. I told her that, in the end, she would be fed well beyond her appetites and she frowned at that. I remember thinking that was kind of oblique even for my pretentious Domly waffling, but she smiled, licked her lips and said 'I'm yours, daddy, all yours', and she was. The next couple of hours were spent edging her. I don't fuck when I dominate; its always felt like a confusion of purpose, so even as she was divested of her clothing down to cincher, hells and stockings, I remained fully dressed. That, to me, felt like control and control always, but always, begins with the self. The 4-walls theory can sometimes take a backseat, after all. I would use toys, big and thick and heavy or slim and nimble and buzzy. I would make her bury her head in the pillow as I pushed my hand deep into her, something she found a deep, resonant joy in, even as mouth and tongue enjoyed her clit. Clamps on cords, pulled tight as she reached for the summit so she could roll down the other side. Zipper lines, running up her sides or around her breasts. Each time she approached orgasm, I would stop, stand her up, and hurt her. Zipper lines tugged slowly or quickly off, clamps pulled shriekingly taut before giving way, pussy spanked, clit flicked, slapped wherever seemed appropriate, hair pulled vicisouly taut. Whatever came to mind, as I needed to administer it. And often, I would use a cane or stick on her body. Ass, breasts (top and underside), thighs, soles of her feet, palms of her hand... anywhere, really. I knew that certain types of pain were like gasoline on a flame, so I avoided them and gave her what I knew she didn't like. Thuddy canes, for instance, she responded to with deep arousal, but thin and whippy she couldn't abide. Nonetheless, she took them until she was welted to my satisfaction. When I called a halt to this cycle, she had the look of a fish you haven't hit hard enough with the bonker, a kind of stunned, defeated confusion. She was slow to respond, sluggish to move and looked utterly drained. That's when I began giving her release. That went on for quite a while, too. The thing about the female orgasm is, even that can be made into an enemy.  By the time I turned my attention to her pleasure, something that I had deliberately built up and denied throughout the day, it was buried under pain and torment. But not buried deeply. Laying her down, mouth and hands gentle, toys gentle, vibrations insistent but considered, it was there to be rediscovered, brought out and given time in the sun. Her first orgasm elicited something like a sigh of relief, and involved little more than her arching off the bed, shuddering and gasping and then sinking back. But onwards I went anyway, same gentleness, same consideration, same relentless stimulation. She came repeatedly, initially with a kind of rich, savoured appreciation of the ecstacy, but, after a while, with increasingly obvious sensitivity. At that point, I restrained her with the cuffs mounted, in the best vanilla with a twist tradition, to the corners of the bed. Spread-eagled, I put a spreader bar between her ankles, not to keep her legs open but so I could kneel on the bar (under a pillow) and stop her twisting almost entirely. And then I went to work. At some point, I gagged her with a bit gag, so she could clench hard as her pleasure stopped being pleasure and become torment. Once I got her over that sensitivity, forced her beyond the limits of her own tolerance for sensation, she kind of broke, accepted her fate. At some point she began to cry, shaking her head furiously as the stimulation continued and her body ignored completely what her mind was saying, and went where it was led. When I called a halt and took the 'after' picture, she looked ruined, purely and simply. She followed where I led with a kind of plodding acceptance, no comment or hesitation, no thought really. In the shower, she knelt and began to cry again as I urinated over her, shoving my cock into her mouth and putting the last of that into her belly, indifferent to her choking and gagging. She threw up a little, but nothing that seemed untoward, all things considered.  It was in that state, puke on her striped tits, hair sopping and dripping with piss, abused, degraded, stunned and utterly beyond sense, that I stood her up, turned her to the wall, lifted her leg, and claimed her, once again, as mine. She barely responded and certainly didn't orgasm, but she was hot and wet and that was all I needed that day. I don't know how long I indulged my lizard brain, but at the end I told her to kneel, which she did, and I came on her face and then in her mouth. Again, she barely responded, barely reacted and somehow, that was glorious. And after? After, I undressed us both fully, and showered with her. I soaped and rinsed her with a kind of reverence, a deep gratitude at the gift that was Leigh and how she matched, met and fulfilled me in so many ways. I washed her hair, her feet, between her thighs, softly, tenderly and with pure love. Then I dried her with equal devotion and kindness and took her to bed, where we lay naked and spooning until lshe fell asleep in my arms and, shortly after, I joined her. The next day, when we went out for breakfast at a cafe just up the road from her place, she winced when she sat down and, when I smiled she smiled back and blushed, but not too much. I miss her every day, and I miss who I was with her ever

A short entry on what I am looking for:   Their role: Primal Dom. Age: Preferably older, 40+ Personality: Experienced, confident in their person as a whole, communicative, easy going, witty, mental and physically strong. Willing to learn, compromise and take the process slowly. Carries a presence with him. Laughs easily. Can admit when wrong. Likes to have fun, be cheeky and occasionally playfully mean. Honest. Forth right. Can have hard conversation. Will answer questions.  Physical: Dad bods are my preferred type.  Kink: Willing to learn about needle play. Flogging, rope ties, D/s, TPE, spanking, choking, biting, scratches, bruises. Willing to explore other dynamics but stay mostly primal DDLG. This list is not exhaustive. Goals: To be in a exclusive TPE relationship when together and out at kink events (If attended), long term but only after a substantial time getting to know each other as people and during play.  Doms looking for multiple subs are free to keep moving. I'm not interested in joining couples, or being in a two sub/one Dom dynamic for personal reasons. 

I feel the cold metal of my collar against my skin, a constant reminder of my new reality. I had signed the contract and now, I wait, could be now, or maybe never. The system decided who bought me, who owned me, but until that day, no taxes. I got to live tax free from the moment that collar locked, I was no longer a tax paying citizen. I was just merchandise on a shelf.The beep that echoes through the bookstore signals my salvation and damnation in the form of a large, commanding man. Baxter. He rushes toward me, his eyes filled with a primal hunger that sends a shiver down my spine. His hands roughly grab my arms, pulling me close as he examines me, his gaze intense and unyielding. I can't help but feel a sense of awe at the sheer size of him, the power that radiates off his body. "You're mine now," he growls, his voice deep and rough. His thumb brushes against the collar, a single drip of his blood and the control was engaged and I feel a jolt of electricity run through me at his touch. I'm his to command, his to use as he sees fit. He leads me out of the bookstore, his grip tight on my arm. People on the streets shaking their heads, another collared removed from the system, less government money wasted. I can't help but feel a sense of excitement as I follow him, my body tingling with anticipation. I've been waiting for this moment for so long, my training leading up to this very moment, to take the collar you have to serve years if service school, but no bills, no taxes, and after the rules all changed, I had no choice. As we enter his home, he turns to me, his eyes blazing with hunger. "Undress," he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument, the collar filling with heat. I comply, my hands shaking as I remove each piece of clothing, revealing my curves to his gaze. He watches me, his eyes taking in every inch of my body. "Kneel," he orders, and I obey, my heart pounding in my chest. He approaches me, his fingers tracing the outline of my collar. "You're mine now," he repeats, his voice softer this time. Then his hand clicks the l

Okay, well another one just dropped out of the running lol  When he submitted himself to Me he claimed he retired in May and would be able to serve then.  I said, great, get in touch a month ahead of time.  lol  Well, we did speak once a week for an hour over the course of many weeks simply getting to know one another.   When asked how I wished to be served, I said, don't stress it, just serve Me as you served your previous Mistress of 17 years and I'll taylor you to My liking as we go.  Honestly, any man who has served a woman, knows what to do out of the gate.  The details WILL work out quite simply and speedily once under My control.  After all, do these guys honestly think I'm going to invest time into them with no return?  LOL  Ya'll are playing with Me LOL  I am NOT a fin domme in any sense of the word, however My time energy and aura are priceless and if there is going to be MY involvement their will be ROI now!  LOL So, I did My basic CSpace research which happens with any slave who happens to catch My interest - especially when they have issues and or otherwise raise suspect to Me.  Low and behold I found several other profiles across the US fitting the same descriptors!  When I questioned the self proclaimed slave, he had no idea what I was talking about (go figure lol) and yet the profiles were exact!  lol  Note to all the liars and losers - mix it up a bit or Meta Mama is going to find you out!  LOL Okay, so lady dominants, beware of the cali multi running round seeking a Mistress and due to retire in May.  He gets you interested, feels you out with all the regular promises one makes to very controlling women, then when it doesn't fit his fancy, another Mistress pops in his chat frame and tells you he has been a very naughty boy and is actually being controlled by another and so sorry but he is unavailable...but will let you know if he comes back on the market!   ROFL  Some of you guyz are a riot AND turds! ANY FEMALE DOMINANT WHO WISHES TO CONTACT ME PRIVATELY - I WOULD BE HAPPY TO DISCUSS ANY and ALL TURDS.  I shall not give personal information on the subject obtained, however I will be sharing My experience with said slaves and sharing how to spot them.  REMEMBER:  Text search is your friend.  ******************************************************************** Meanwhile, here on planet earth I continue to hear from and share with some terrific sincere and caring men.  I can only hope that we continue to come to know one another and to share more in the future.  Thank you for being the bright lights you are.  Keep up the good work and keep making those fantasists stand out like the sore thumb they are!  Kissesssss

This is a 45 acre farm. I grew up on it, traveled the world, and came home again.When both parents had passed, I bought out my sisters shares. I stopped all row crops in 2014 and began turning the place into a safe zone for nature.It features a man made lake, spring fed and well stocked with fish. There are 22 acres of tillable land, some woods and rolling hills as well as several rock and flower gardens and roughly 6 or 7 acres of lawn.In 2014, I began to plant trees and flowers in the fields in my attempt to give nature a safe place to be. We have a nesting pair of Bald Eagles, roughly 75 wild turkeys, about 30 head of white tail deer. We more small animals than you could hope to count. The lake is well stocked with fish, large and small mouth bass, crappies, blue gills and sunfish as well as a decent supply of turtles.There are two family homes on this farm and I am selling one of them to my long term renter. There are also two large aluminum pole barns, 60 x 40. In one, I built a large indoor grow with full temperature, light and humidity control and that was a marijuana rental grow from 2014 to this spring. It currently stands empty but I will put it to growing vegetables or mushrooms fairly soon. The other 60 x 40 is being built out as a machine shop.I would really love to find two slaves to work here, (for pay), but in a lifestyle setting. A male/female cuck couple, two females, or a single female to start and help me find another. I feel that two would be the correct number but three is a possibility.I have been  a dominant since birth. I married a submissive in 71 and we are still together. I became  heavily involved in this lifestyle in 96. Now that I am living back on the farm again, I want my 1 or 2 or 3 slaves to come and work this project with me in an ongoing lifestyle arrangement.

What I am looking for: I would love to find an amazing submissive partner. This person should want to put in the time and effort it takes to become actual friends and form a real emotional bond. As in any solid relationship, this is not something that will happen overnight. If you lack patience or just want a quick hookup, I am not the One for you. The person in question should be local to me or able to visit on a very regular basis. What is most important to me is shared chemistry and emotional connection. I am not looking to rush into anything. Expect the process of getting to know each other and the vetting process to take TIME. Interested parties should be willing and able to communicate extensively through online methods. I prefer typed text to voice communication, but can verify that I am who I say I am if necessary. If you are someone who does not like to write words or who thinks saying 'hi' or telling me how attractive you think I am is a conversation, you won't stand a chance. My partner preference currently tends to swing towards cis women, trans women, and trans men, but I am pan and could be attracted to anyone if the right connection is there.Preferred Age Range - 30 to 50 Turn Ons & Main Interests: These are my "must have" vanilla and kink interests. While the exact dynamic of each relationship is unique to those involved in it, if any of this is a hard limit for you, we will likely not be a match. * Tease & denial * Orgasm control / orgasm denial * Massage (getting) * Cuddling & Physical Displays of Affection * Oral service * Laughter * Intelligence * Shared vanilla interests I've physically and mentally been through Hell over the past 5 or so years and need a partner who is truly service oriented, who will enjoy helping and caring for their Domme. I am completely willing to discuss this in detail with the right person. If you have fully read and understood my profile and journal, you may send me a polite message detailing why you are interested in serving me, how your vanilla and kink interests line up with my own, and a bit about yourself. Please also include the phrase "You remind me of the babe" so I know you actually read my complete profile. Bonus points if you know where the quote comes from.

I have a few minutes to sit still, so I figured I could follow up on my previous post, and discuss the topic of pictures a bit more.  But I realize I'll probably never do better than what I wrote a few years ago, and I know no one ever scrolls back and reads, even if I few do read the current posts. So I'll re-post that, and maybe it will help someone. ____________________________________ Women are not men. I know it seems obvious, yet the majority of men still pursue women without really considering what that means. They write profiles based on what THEY would like, what men value, what men think is impressive, and what they wish they saw on women's profiles. They take and post pictures the same way - based on what they value, what they think is impressive, what they wish women put in their pictures.  If they crossdress, they take and post pictures similar to those of women they found sexy - scantily clad in lingere, posed seductively or sluttily, etc. without considering that those pictures, like porn, were meant to appeal to men.  They send emails, again, that same way. I repeat - Women are not men. Dating, at it's bottom line, is marketing. You have something. You want something. You want to exchange what you have for what you want. In a store, you exchange money for goods and services. In dating, you are mostly hoping to sell. You are hoping to purchase the attention of a partner, in the long or short term, in exchange for your attention, your time, your services. You are selling you, in exchange for them. That's actually a very basic equation. You can't sell to someone unless you know what they want, and find a way to market what you have to that want. This is where most men fail - at the basic premise. They know what THEY want. They don't spend a lot of time researching what their target market wants to BUY. So they market based on what they know, and what they think they know. They know themselves. They know men, in general, and they know what commercials and movies and tv and all media everywhere has told them is attractive to women. They, being men and raised in a male dominated world, never seem to realize that all of those things are ALSO targeted to men, to get men to buy things, usually by appealing to male egos. They show women draping themselves over men who drink this beer, or drive that car, or wear that brand of clothing. They show this to men so that men will want to buy those things. Most of the time, women couldn't give less of a fuck about those things. But men are surrounded by all of this input, so they think we do. I'm not going to try to define what "all women" want on here. Not all women want the same things anyway. Right now, I'm just going to clarify that what WE want is usually not the same as what men want. You need to find out what those things are and tailor your pictures and profile to market to that. Basic things like "don't use a picture of your penis as your profile pic" have been said a million times but it's always the first thing we see everywhere we look. Yes, I like to see a pretty penis. No, I don't see a pretty penis in a picture and become suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to have it right this second. I can't say that I've ever gone looking through the internet just to look at pictures of penises. And when I get one shown to me when I haven't asked to see it, I'm not horrified, but I right there decide that the guy showing it is a pushy, insecure jackass. I lose all interest in interacting with him. It's not that the penis itself is a problem, but that it tells me something about who he is when he has to insist on showing it around - that he's not interested in pleasing ME. He's interested in his own pleasure. And I can do better than that. And honestly, a picture of your chastity device is pretty much the same as a dick pic. You don't want your profile to be a long list if things you want, either. Yes, you want things. You will need to communicate those things. And the world you were probably raised in told you that women do things for men, even Dominant women. All that BDSM porn? It shows lots of women in black leather and rubber getting a LOT of enjoyment doing those things to men. Again, that is written specifically to be bought by men, so they show men what they want to see. Yes, I like doing those things to a man. I like doing them to my partner. I sometimes want to do them to someone other than my partner. But I almost never want to do them to some total stranger just because I like doing them. Your accountant may like his job, but he doesn't go out on the street offering free tax jobs to strangers, ya know? Your profile on a dating page is your resume. Your sales pitch. Your introduction to make us think you have something worth our giving up a few minutes of our time to read further or possibly even have a conversation with you to get more details. This site is a kink/fetish site. This particular discussion is about 'finding a dominant woman.' If you are reading my journal, your target audience is a Dominant Woman. Most Dominant women I talk to are drowning in emails and offers from men who call themselves submissive. Most of them are requests for US to do what THEY want. Which is the first mistake. It's usually their last. Your sales pitch should NEVER NEVER EVER be "I'll let you spank me!" One, why do I WANT to spank you in the first place? Two, why you and not someone who is offering something I want? I'd rather talk to the subbie over here that is offering to give me a full body massage, no strings attached.