Master's WritingsSubmission, as I see itSubmission comes in many forms and on my journey different subs have approached it from different angles. Some see it as service, some as opening themselves up to another, and some even see it as a rejection of the world with it demands and requirements. Over the years, I have trained several submissives to reach greater depth in their submission and I’ve tried to work within their mindset, helping each to reach their potential in a way that is honest, true, and unique.At its core, submission is and should be a genuine reflection of an individual’s inner truth. A sense of their own purpose and way of life they choose to accept. It comes from a place within each submissive that reflaspaspects their own nature, and their most authentic expression of self.The nature of any true “submissive training” should and must be focused on helping the submissive connect with their nature, create the pathways to more fully access their own unique form of submission, and then finally build on that to blend it into their daily life. All the tasks and sexual acts, the “yes Sirs” and downward glances of respect, mean nothing and are worthless self-indulgent Dominant games, if the goal of these acts are not designed to deepen a submissives connection to their own beautiful, natural, and authentic submissive self.Submission is a gift. This single phrase bears repeating, because it is so very true and frequently overlooked - Submission is a gift. When fully developed, submission is a powerful and sometimes spiritually beautiful thing to behold. It is never to be taken, coerced, or forced. It is not for role play or pretend, Of course one could act like a submissive as if putting on a costume, but not with me as their Dominant. I hols submission, true submission in the highest regard. And to pretend to be one only cheapens the gift of those who truly feel its calling.As a Dominant, I see my role as helping others in any way I can on their journey, as their guide, nurturer, and mentor.

What annoys me more than anything is people who don't read. I know you're not used to people like me who are straightforward and values every second they have, but get on my level or leave me alone. I created a detailed profile to spare the need to repeat myself or waste valuable time. I know exactly what I want and I know exactly what I don't want. If you lack the cerebral firepower to comprehend an Alpha Fem of my caliber, that's your problem. Don't approach me if you didn't read my profile. Stop expecting me to go out of my way, repeat myself, overexplain, or lift a finger for that matter. I'm SERIOUS. I am seeking the path of least resistance ONLY. My life will be easy breezy no disruptions moving forward.    As a full time artist and creative maker, I support myself 100%. No side jobs, hustles, or schemes. Therefore, come correct or don't come at all. Getting all of these messages from beta men expecting me to go out of my way. If you want your fantasy fulfilled, seek elsewhere. It's ALL ABOUT ME. It's MY WAY OR GET TO STEPPIN. If you don't drive, don't even bother. If you are poor or struggling financially, mentally, emotionally, or physical, skip me. If you can't keep yourself together, aint no way you can add value to my life. I'm grounded. Aware. And capable of continuing ON MY OWN til I find the right ones for the mission. ✌🏽

Hello.  If you are a truly dominant woman or couple possessing high intelligence and integrity, I have a situation that may interest you. This isn't just about play or BDSM, I am offering a very well compensated job, as well as a life and a jump in lifestyle. Please read it all before you decide.  I know telling you I am real and this is legit is a waste of time because all the scammers say that.  Notice that my spelling and grammar are correct, and it's not a ridiculous offer, but very reasonable to the right dominant woman willing and able to accept it. You can Google VA caregiver and VA caregiver stipend.  When you do, ONLY go to websites ending in dot gov.  Anything else is NOT a real government website, though they try to fool you into believing that they are. I'm going to keep this to facts, because you will either be interested and want more details, or you won't be and there is no need for more info.  Please read about me in my profile and journal. I just learned, that because of my cancer and my recent disability rating increase, I will almost certainly be eligible to have a live in caregiver.  The VA compensates caregivers really well.  I can't mention numbers but you can find them in those URLs.  You would basically be helping me around the house with things which are difficult because of my disabilities.  By September I should be past all the side effects of the radiation so I won't need all that much help.  Which means you could go to school or work another job.  I will not give you a free ride.  I will expect you to pay something toward the upkeep of the house.  I will loan you the money for a car if you don't have one.What I am seeking is a 24/7 domme to enslave me in a consensual non consent relationship.  Yes, that means you will need to relocate to Phoenix, AZ USA, because I can't relocate. I own a large, very nice home in a quiet, upscale middle class neighborhood.  But I'm only about 12 miles from downtown Phoenix. I don't want a soft domme.  At least not all the time.  I need a domme with very dark desires and cruelty.  If you are new to BDSM or your own dominance, I can teach you to explore your darkness, dominance and cruelty, which the politically correct BDSM community could not and would not.  So inexperience is not an issue for me.  Nor do I seek monogamy or constant attention.  I would serve only you and anyone you told me to, while you could live your life any way you want to.  You can have other slaves, bulls, whatever you want.  And you get me for a slave.  I'm not weak and useless or a total asshole like most other male subs.  I will actually prioritize your happiness because that will make me happy.That's it.  This is a description, not an offer.  We would not be able to start this until August at the earliest, so that would give us plenty of time to talk, work out details, etc.If you are interested, and by that I mean that if you like the circumstances, you will follow through and actually do this if we connect on that level, then write me.  If you know you are not going to do it, then please feel free to ignore this, and I hope you find what you seek.

the perfect scenario in person for me as a little girl submissive, a paragraph.         it would be in person and old school where i'm at home maybe working 4 hours tops and he provides the majority i honor worship and am in awe of what and who he is. i have no problems kissing his feet praying for him following his lead and know he's the safest man out there so he can touch me whenever he wants and i can trust him to make the decisions

An evening, recalled by the lady, written by me.It was late afternoon and it had been a tough day at the Commission. His kiss when he met me at the station was warm and affectionate; we chatted on the way to the hotel and as we checked in. When we arrived in the room I dumped my stuff on the bed and went out onto the veranda to look out over the lake. A few minutes later I heard him say ‘come here please’. I turned to see him with an impassive look on his face and standing in the middle of the room pointing at the floor just in front of his feet. He took hold of me around my waist and as he kissed me deeply, his hands travelled from my waist down my hips and across my bottom. Then up my back to my neck and then he felt my hair. He murmured ‘give me your tongue’ and I slipped it between his teeth. He nipped it and held it between his upper teeth and tongue. It was uncomfortable but not painful, he had done it often before and I had grown to like it. His hands resumed their journey around my upper body. They were firm, confident and moved without any hesitation. I could not have ed even if I had wanted too and the welcome feeling of melting inside began. He then released my tongue, kissed my lips then he turned me around and bent me over so my elbows were on the bed. He lifted my skirt and folded it over my back. His hands then roved freely over my bottom and between my thighs. He felt my mons, traced the line of my slit and ran his fingertips between down the crease between my buttocks, pausing to press on my anus. He then held me firmly against his thigh and began to spank me- this had recently become a regular beginning to our time together. One spank per cheek, then two, then three, they landed on my upper thighs and the curve of my bottom. He stopped at six and spent a few minutes gently rubbing my bottom, occasionally slipping his hand between my thighs. At ten per cheek it was stinging a lot. By twelve I was having difficulty keeping still. It was the knowledge that if I moved he would start again that kept me in position. The spanking was not unexpected and it had the desired effect. I felt myself starting to melt inside even more as he rubbed my stinging bottom and thighs once again. He stopped and made me stand. Then looked me in the eye, and then said ‘I have a few issues to resolve with you’. My stomach took a lurch, I’d been here before, he had shown no sign of real annoyance with me recently but then he never really did. He took me by the chin, looked into my eyes and said ‘strip and kneel’. He then turned and went to the veranda. It only took a minute to remove all my clothes and jewellery. I knelt, apprehensive about his return, embarrassed it had been a warm day; I had been wearing tights and had not had the time to wash and prepare myself for him. My make up had gone and I knew I did not look my best. He returned and pushed me forward to my knees and elbows. Pulling back my hair he locked my leather collar around my neck. It felt strange after the long break since I last wore it. The wrist cuffs were fitted next before he clipped them behind my back pinioning my wrists. He pulled my collar by its short leash to make me kneel up and then buckled a gag around my neck and pushed the red ball behind my teeth before tightening   it. He turned me so my back was to the mirror and placed a low backed chair in front of me. He could now see both the back and front of me. Sitting on the chair he told me to part my thighs wide and to emphasise the point his foot nudged my knees wide apart. I hoped he wasn’t going to touch me between my thighs as he so loved too, I so regretted not taking a shower immediately we arrived in the room. From his pocket he took some butterfly style nipple clips. I hate them and he knows it, he threaded their chain into the ring at the front of my collar and after pinching my nipples between his thumb and forefinger to make them fully erect he clipped one to each nipple. The discomfort was almost unbearable, I instinctively closed my thighs, and he ed and gently tugged the chain, sending sharp jolts through me. I did as I was told and spread my thighs wide, pushing my mons forward as far as I could. The gag muffling my weak protests. He spoke slowly, jerking the chain on saying each word. ‘Three weeks ago you forgot your make up, two weeks ago your stockings, last week your high shoes. You have arrived in my company wearing tights for the last 4 weeks, hence the immediate spankings. You have not kissed or greeted me properly on meeting for the same length of time. You make up today is poor, your hair isn’t brushed and you have not left your pubic hair as I instructed. In short young lady you are marring your beauty. You are fully aware how beautiful I think you are and you are distracting from it by being sloppy and that disappoints me. I will not accept you detracting from the pleasure I take in having such a desirable woman as my lover. Do you understand?’ I nodded, my eyes starting to water from the discomfort in my nipples and the realisation of how I had disappointed him. There was also the knowledge that I had been here before and if it followed a similar pattern then this was the case against me. By nodding I admitted my guilt. So I was about to punished for being a sloppy and inattentive submissive who had disappointed her Dominant.  He helped me to my feet by lifting me by the collar on my ring; it also had the effect of tugging on my nipples. He reversed his chair and tugged the chain as he removed each nipple clip. It stung as the blood filled each nipple, my knees almost buckled each time, the gag muffling the g. He then connected my wrists cuffs in front of me, and bent me over the back of his chair so my weight rested on my elbows. ‘Part your legs’ he said, I complied and hoped he would decide to have me, not cane me. I was to be disappointed, though recently spanked I accepted I had earned this too. He fetched a cane from his bag as I waited anxiously. Holding the back of my collar he rested the cane against my bottom, drew it back and struck me. ‘One‘ he said. All I did was hear the sound then the harsh sting reached my brain! He was using the flat cane.  A piece of flexible wood two feet long, an inch wide and a quarter of an inch thick. It didn’t leave tram lines or scars; I knew its stinging would last for ages and leave a square red mark on each buttock, but it would not bruise very much. Not that it seemed important at that moment. Though I find the cane painful, the thonged whip he occasionally uses is worse. Its thick strands inflict weal’s and their tips can get into the most intimate parts of my body. I’ve also known him use it on my breasts and belly. Each cane stroke went slightly lower until the last 3 all struck where the tops of my thighs and my bottom met. My legs kicked out from the stinging, by now I had dribbled spittle around the gag, my eyes were streaming and my nose had started to run. He let go the back of my collar and returned the cane to his bag. Returning he pulled me upright by my collar and turned me to face him. I refused to look him in the eye; I must have looked a real mess. He took my chin again forcing me to look into his eyes. I felt so ashamed of my appearance. He had told me I was beautiful so very often and it made me feel so proud when he said it. Now I had let him down by being too complacent. He unclipped the wrist cuffs, reattaching then in front. He said ‘Do you understand what I have told you?’ I nodded. ‘Then get down on your belly on the floor and spread your legs, I haven’t finished with you yet.’ My mind raced, would it be the whip now, on my bottom? I knelt and lay on the floor, my bottom was really stinging and the carpet was rough against my sore nipples, my belly and mons. I spread my thighs wide, dipped my spine and waited. I heard the pop of a tube of lubricant being opened. It wasn’t the whip!! The lube felt cold against my anus as he applied just enough. He undressed, I could feel him looking at my prone body, the line of my sex and the rose of my anus. I was fully exposed because it was how he wanted me to be. He knelt between my thighs and pumped his cock to make the head larger. He spread my bottom cheeks with one hand and pressed his cock against my anus with the other. The tip entered me, it was so uncomfortable. I had forgotten how tight a caning made the cheeks of my bottom clench. He pushed into me, stretching me. I struggled and tried to object; he held me and reminded me of the presence of the whip. Once he was past the muscular ring I relaxed as the discomfort subsided somewhat; I felt the cool of his skin against my hot bottom. He reached and took hold of my hair and collar, pulling them back. At the first slow thrust he said ‘one’. The thrusts were slow and firm, they made my bottom sting though my anus soon adapted to the presence of his cock. He told me to squeeze my buttocks together as he withdrew his cock, and relax as he thrust in. I tried to do so; each time I failed he added two extra thrusts. He was punishing me and reminding me of his dominance by not taking pleasure from the stimulation my anus could give him. It was a reminder that sexual pleasure could not be an excuse for a lack of submission. It was a relief when he reached 100 and stopped counting and thrusting. I was glad he was no longer forcing my nipples against the rough carpet, and his tummy was no longer making my sore bottom sting more. But I immediately missed the closeness and intimacy of the man I so wanted yet had disappointed. He pulled me to my feet by my collar, removed the ball gag and lifted my chin. I must have looked a real mess as I worked my jaw to stop it aching, I certainly felt a mess and I promised him and myself not to let my appearance or behaviour slip again. He kissed me and said he loved me; I’m not sure if it made me feel any better- or if it was supposed to! He led me by the arm into the bathroom and told me to wash his cock and balls. I took a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked horrendous! Mascara running, the marks of the gag around my mouth, spittle around my chin and collar and my nose running! I looked away ashamed as he wet a towel to clean the lube from between my buttocks. He turned me around so my back was to the mirror and rubbed the wet towel firmly between my buttocks, it stung where it touched the red marks.  I heard him say, ‘You have 30 minutes until dinner. Be ready on time.’ I knew that I would make him the proudest man alive when he let me take his arm to dinner. 30 minutes wasn’t long. But I so wanted to see that look of desire in his eyes that I would ensure I was just as he wanted me to be. I knew just how good he would make me feel in return. He went to the veranda to watch the sun set. I set to work, though I did sneak a look at the red marks on my bottom. They made me feel strangely proud because they were his marks and I had submitted to him. He had put them there and there was nothing I could have done about it even if I wanted to. Now I didn’t know what he was going to do with me later, but after being disciplined he always had something special planned for me! 

Some dommes think they can put on sexy clothes and flirt their way into what ever they want, if that is you keep reading.You like being able to be in charge all the time but at certain times you feed your greed for power by binding your partner because it amuses you to create a little suffering for him.You may want to enjoy sharing sexual energy but no longer want frequent penetration or you want your man to feel that intercourse is a treat to be earned through submission. I'd like to be able to let you know I am horny for you while at the same time be prevented from thinking I can just grab you, strip you and throw you down to fuck. I've learned how to shape chastity belts for practical comfort so that you can star in my every sexual thought. Everyday life becomes an adventure when control reaches any distance."What is sexual in a high heel is the arch of the foot, because it is exactly the position of a woman's foot when she orgasms... So putting your foot in a heel, you are putting yourself in a possibly orgasmic situation.""Shoes are just a pedestal. What interests me is the power of the woman who wears them."-- Christian Louboutin

Let's get Cosmic Cunt out in the open, shall we? Cosmic -     a.  of or relating to the cosmos, the extraterrestrial vastness, or the universe in contrast to the earth alone.  b.  of, relating to, or concerned with abstract spiritual or metaphysical ideas.   characterized by greatness especaillyin context, intensity or comprehensiveness.     Cunt - the femle genital organs.  Cunny, Cunty, What a beautiful cunt is she!  I've reclaimed the word!  My cunt is lovely!  lol  A Brief History of the C-Word - The Establishment.  The etymology of cunt:  a very delicate monosyllable. Cunt - Old English.  

PLEASURE MOMMY!!!   I raise my leg and pull the leash placing your face up against my mound.  You can feel the warmth as I grab the back of your head pushing your face up into my pussy.   I tell you to open your mouth so you can taste my sweet nectar.   You love that taste your nasty little slut!   While holding your leash tight I tell you to lick me slowly and then tongue fuck me till I tell you to stop!!   Moving my hips from side to side slapping you with my thick thighs........I pull you in closer   BITE ME YOU SLUT MAKE MOMMY SCREAM!!! I cum so hard I fart in your face and you never miss a lick.   I grab your chin and bend over to lick my juices off your face.   I slap your face!!   Then push your head back and straddle your face so you can continue to please me.   Finger my ass while you tongue fuck me!!!!...................WOW

 The power and vibration of a Harley reminds me of my time driving a train. When I would start a "big jack" as we called it, the power of that engine engulfed me. To know I controled all that power was a feeling that took some adjusting to.  I cannot know what the power feels like driving a Harley or anykind of bike for that matter. But I do know the feeling on the back of a bike. The freedom, the wind blowing in my hair. My legs pressed against his legs, my arms around his waist, and my tits pressed against his back. Quite a intimate experience no doubt.     It always amazed me that the bikers would always wave at the trains. This was a universal thing from Az, NM, Colorado,the Black Hills of South Dakota,Wyoming, the midwest of Iowa and even to Minnesota, most of the places I worked in my carreer. Most times they wanted to hear the horn blow to. Just like those of us who want semis to blow their horns going down the road.  I went full out of my comfort zone a few weeks ago and asked a vanilla guy at the gym for a ride on his Harley. It was a Friday. He acted like he was excited by my actions.We exchanged numbers and later that day he asked me where I would want to take a ride to. We agreeded on Tombstone, for the upcoming Wednesday. On Saturday morning I sent a text to him hoping his day was going good. He responded, and so did I. And that was it. I never heard from him again. Naturally he has also avoided being at the gym. And in general just made me disappointed in another vanilla male.   It doesen't stop my craving though. To be on the back of a bike again going down the road! Maybe one day it will happen again...          

  In the Shadows, We Ask Permission: The Sacred Art of Consent By T.L. Duncan (BDSM • Trust • Power Exchange • Consent Education) There is nothing more erotic than choice. In the world of dominance and submission, consent is not a rule of caution — it is the foundation of every breath, every touch, every whispered command. It transforms restraint into trust and obedience into art. Without it, there is only imbalance. With it, there is freedom — an unshakable connection between two souls exploring the boundaries of pleasure and power. The Sacred Power of “Yes” To outsiders, consent might seem like a technicality — a signature before the story begins. But to those who live inside the dynamic, it is everything. Consent is not a one-time agreement; it is a living dialogue. It evolves with mood, comfort, and connection. It is the heartbeat beneath every scene, the signal that both partners are seen, safe, and heard. True surrender is never taken — it is given. A submissive’s trust is a deliberate act of bravery, and a Dominant’s control is a sacred vow to protect it. Negotiation Is Foreplay Before the rope tightens or the candle wax drips, there is conversation. Real, honest, unhurried conversation. Limits are not barriers; they are maps that guide the journey. Soft limits whisper “ask again later.” Hard limits declare “never.” Both are equally powerful and worthy of respect. Negotiation is not unsexy — it is foreplay. It is the spark before the strike, the moment where desire meets understanding. It is a love letter written in the language of respect. Safe Words and Aftercare: The Unseen Bonds A safe word is not weakness. It is trust made tangible — a promise that when one voice says stop, the other listens without hesitation. And aftercare — that slow descent from intensity to softness — is where the truest connection resides. It is not the end of the scene; it is the beginning of reflection. A blanket. A glass of water. A whispered thank-you. That’s where the human heart beats beneath the power play. The Takeaway Consent is not the absence of no — it is the presence of yes. It is the foundation that allows the world of BDSM to be daring, intimate, and profoundly safe. To play with power, you must first respect it. To claim control, you must first ask for it. And to love within this world — truly love — you must listen. About T.L. Duncan T.L. Duncan is a gothic romance author exploring the intersections of power, desire, and emotional truth. Her works weave together sensuality and storytelling, revealing the beauty of trust, surrender, and human connection. Discover more on www.tlduncan.com.

I believe daily humiliation is necessary to keep a slave in its place. Keep it naked and on display as i tell it what a cunt whore it is. Repeat often that its only value is the value I give it.   Remind the slave that it is not a person but My property. Tell it that it no longer has rights, opinions or independent thoughts. Tell it those things are reserved for people and it is not people Call attention to the wetness of its fuck hole as I call it names. Enlighten it to the fact that its hole wouldn’t be dripping if it didn’t enjoy being treated like the cunt it is. Write demeaning things on its body as I tell it that I'lll use its holes as they were meant to be used. Tell it that its mouth is now its top cunt, its ass is now its rear cunt and its pussy is now its front cunt. Keep it naked, show off its udders, rear cunt and front cunt to whoever You choose. Make it suck Me and use it as a masturbation device in front of My friends. Talk about it as if it isn't even present.   Laugh at it when it tries to make a decision on its own.   Make it eat My left overs covered in My cum out of a dog bowl at your feet as I enjoy My dessert. Slap its face when it doesn’t sit correctly with its legs spread open. These, among other things will keep the slave in its place. In a short time I'll have a perfectly obedient, cock hungry, happy slave at My feet willing to do anything it needs for My praise and use.

 I am a 41 year old male who due to a physical disability caused at birth I am a wheelchair user, I have tried to live a normal life but due to discrimination that is almost impossible, got no friends, no social life and no even had a date in over 20 years. When it comes to ABDL I am quite open to what happens as long as it includes Bondage, I have seen a few professional dominants in the past with little luck but when I did meet they always feminised me so most of my ABDL stuff is female or sissy in nature. Not had much luck however some health issues in the past year have made me wear diapers. I have mixed neurogenic bladder disorder which means one minute I have Incontinence the next retention so have a catheter fitted so absolutely no control of my bladder, I had 3 haemoroids removed and 3 days later was passing rectual bleeding and blood clots so been prescribed laxatives.  

I was in an open relationship with my ex gf for 5+ years. And I was deeply in love with her. In fact, she was my first love. We didn’t break up for any reason in particular, but perhaps it was the distance - I had moved to the Bay Area and she was traveling back and forth to the East Coast. Years and years ago, we had a funeral back in LA to attend together, so I was staying with her and her family during the time I was in LA. What she doesn’t know about that week is that her brother tried to jump my bones on a day we were alone together after a shower of mine. It caught me completely, completely off guard, and felt totally out of left field. Despite how stunned I was, I had to shut it down (for a multitude of reasons).   However, she happened to tell me a few years ago that I’d been the friend of hers that he’d always crushed on. Makes sense. We’re a few years older than him. I was around more than any of her other friends when we were younger, and I often drove him around quite a bit. I drew a lot of attention from guys, anyway, and she and I were mostly in the closet around family, so it’s unlikely he was even aware of the two of us.    She’s married with kids, living on the East Coast now. I live back in LA again. We get to hangout together when her family migrates to the West Coast for winter. But I also started spending time with her brother again last year. It’s become apparent that he still wants me.    And now I want him, too. 

You kneel, and the room inhales—not from fear,but from the gravity of your trust. Power rests in my palmlike a living thing—warm, breathing, delicate. The collar is not conquest.It is a circle drawn carefully,a boundary I vow to guard. When I give a command,it is shaped with intention,measured to the rhythm of your pulse. I do not take your will—you place it in my hands,steady as a gift. And I hold itnot to break you,but to build a world where your surrenderand my controlfit together like lock and key.

more to come here is a taste of the next part   Slave and pet are now preparing you for what will be the most by far the largest/greatest thing you have ever done in your whole life time.  This will truly test your love, might and soul.   You look around the lit up room and see a full dungeon for what is worth.  Rows of floggers, canes, cat-n-nines, hung so neatly, placed on one wall. You see several shapes, sizes, thicknesses and all different colors. You have never seen such a collection this large before.  Your attention is brought to the one that is glittering in the light, off to the left middle side.  It shimmers softly in the glow of the room.

I appreciate all showing an interest though I am not looking for any cross dressing or feminization.. I am only looking for a quality male slave that is local living alone or a male slave who can relocate at own expense and ability to get own place close by. Either living alone or another slave can be arranged to be a roommate brother slave sharing financial responsibility in maintaining the dwelling, sharing duties with chores and sharing in serving My needs.  Besides sexual service using your holes is a given. Being trained to take torment and torture, giving Me massages, worshipping My body including rimming and My feet.  When I have gigs, I will expect you to be a grunt, gopher and whatever else I need with the booth or encampment.  Expect to be locked in chastity for periods of time and plug training to open up for fisting.  Though not living under the same roof, I will have full control around the clock, taking deeper into being a completely devoted slave  with little to no limits with full TPE.  Some experience preferred though not required if fully willing to be trained however I want.  A visit within a few months from starting to chat at your expense to get a motel room and present for an inspection.     

So, the play weekend came to a sudden hault. One of the other slaves in our BDSM group broke her ankle coming down the stairs to the basement/dungeon. Her Master had her ankles on a short hobble and what must have been four inch heels. What was he thinking? So there I am, stretched out on the brand new rack, covered in hot wax with hyperextended knees and shoulders that had gone numb and everyone forgets I am there. LOL About 35 minutes later Goddess Tabitha comes back down stairs to see where I am. She was sure someone had turned me loose before they rushed off to help splint the ankel and get the other slave into the car. Nothing like slave life for me LOL

If you'd like a reasonable answer and a good prospect of meeting me for real, message me and Don't assume any titles. You can tell me how you like to be addressed. You can ask or tell me once how you are going to address me unless I. Start with a greeting. It says so much. Not using any also tells me novels about you. Very disappointing and frustrating ones though. Tell me the reason why you contact me. Is it based on my profile and to figure out if, when, and how we'll have a real session offline? Tell me. Respect your own prospect and mine. If there is no overlap between what we are looking, don't ignore that. Don't ask me or try to play online for instance. Ask me questions if you like, but don't ask me something you can look up. You can always ask about my own definitions or opinions about something but give me context, please. I need to know why you ask. Tell me something about you but not everything, especially not right from the beginnung. Start with the most relevant information concerning your reason to message me. Open up a bit. Personal information is a give and take. Our balance gives away a good portion about the prospect to meet. Manage your expectations. This is the internet. Without closer contact, you don't know in which situation I am in, any sudden accident or sickness for example. I expect having to filter through a lot of crappy messages, people not reading, lack of manners, disrespect, crazy people, insults, plenty of people just disappearing. The list goes on. Don't expect a 100% reply rate, even from me. I am only human. It's the internet. Don't stalk or annoy (see respect above) but be patient and persistent. The only way to filter strangers is time and continuous communication. Liars have a hard time keeping up consistency. Con and scammers people don't like to invest too much time into the same contact. Trust is most valuable, time is second to that, followed by other resources like money. Try to include a question towards progress on trust, checking if it's a match, and possibly a real meeting.

no blood clot. But lots of inflammation in my lungs. I've been sleeping a lot, taking meds for this illness. I'm starting to feel a little better, but I'm still so damn tired. Pneumonia isn't anything to mess around with. I spent a week thinking my allergies were getting worse, but now I think it was a sinus infection that went to my chest and yeah. I hate being sick, it always hits me hard. This is the second time I've had pneumonia this year. I'm glad I'm starting to feel better, but it sure does suck being immunocompromised.  Sir and I are working things out. He came to see me and now I have beautiful bruises in several areas. I know he's still mad at me, but I wear his marks with pride, because it means I served him, his pleasure, his desires. Now I must get better so I can continue serving him. So, that's the goal, recovering. I'm still on an antibiotic and see my doctor when I've finished it. So we will see what happens from there. 

100% Dominant 90% Sadist84% Rigger82% Master/Mistress80% Daddy/Mommy75% Degrader64% Non-monogamist60% Owner39% Experimentalist32% Vanilla29% Primal (Hunter)28% Brat tamer3% Voyeur

Lady:   Lady, oh Lady, so elegantly divine, With grace and kindness that wonderfully shine. Her presence like a gentle breeze, Bringing warmth and ease.   Her eyes sparkle with empathy and care, A heart so deep, willing to share. She walks with a poise so rare, A true embodiment of love and flair.   Her laughter rings like a soothing melody, Bringing joy to all, so effortlessly. A woman of strength and unwavering grace, A shining example for the human race.   In her kindness, the world finds solace, In her elegance, the heart finds its palace. Lady, oh Lady, a beacon of light, Guiding all with her radiance so bright.   May her spirit forever inspire, Kindness and elegance never to tire. For in her, we see a beauty so true, Lady, how amazing and kind are you.

Name Change as a Sign  Since ancient times names has been a map to knowing people and places. A name is you in sound. Many societies used multiple names to protect the inner soul and very lives of individuals. Certainly secret societies, religions, and associations use name change as a way to signal a change of life and alliances. The ideas of acquiring a new name appears in ancient and sacred texts and invariably signal a deeper commitment and a sign of change and transformation. Part of many rites of passage include after the third step, reintegration, the new name. That is why after such rites people speak about the new person that has emerged after the ritual. The name is then a way to mark ownership, commitment, and deep understanding of the individual’s newly acquired status. We tend to give names to those things and individuals that we possess or at least hold a claim to. The selection and bestowing of a name in those circumstances is a provocative moment in which one end of the equation decides (based on his understanding) the name of the individual to be reborn through the new name. The level of intimacy this act requires and entails will bound both individuals beyond their wildest dreams. In this case the Alpha be one Sir, Lord, Master, etc and the sub will take the neme his superior bestows; and in that moment the bond created will be consummated constantly through the word and specifically through sex. 

I have never worn a chastity belt outside of squeezing into one(painfully) for like 30 minutes at most at a time here and there.And I recently found a site that showed me how to measure, and sadly(sadly?!?) to my non-surprise, i'm much too large and need a custom belt.  One that costs $200-300, not the $30-50 belts that seem to be everywhere.And I think back to a recent conversation I had with a Dominant.  That they don't see the point.  That if they tell their slave not to cum, they want and expect their slave not to.  And they wouldn't want them not to.Besides, they want to make use and enjoy the orgasms, so again the belt is unneeded.And having always had to do just that.  I agree.  And I understand.I don't have no particular joy or desire or need for chastity or denial.   I would be very happy having some form of sex and orgasm daily or more just as I would being denied for days or weeks or more.For me, I don't NEED a belt.   But thinking about it, what I NEED is a lack of control.  And the belt can help with that.I was thinking about that today...  How could I explain that idea to someone, and came up with a story of sorts that I see as being a good way of explaining it.Imagine my orgasm is a pile of cookies in the Kitchen.    My owner can say - "don't eat the cookies unless I tell you".  And I could/would obey.   But then again I also could disobey and eat if I see a chance to.(I wouldn't in reality - i'm not bratty like that)   But even though I was told not to, the ultimate power and control of my actions is held by me.   I CHOOSE not to.   I CHOOSE to obey.    Which in and of itself is a powerful thing for the dynamic.   But my thought here goes beyond that.Now imagine a lock on the kitchen door.  That symbolizes the belt.   With a lock, it doesn't matter my choice or decision or even my desire -  I have no choice.   That was removed from me.   The control I had in any way shape or form to obey or not obey is removed from me.And it's that removal of control that the belt can bring.   I would only have a cookie when my owner allowed.   When it pleases them to do so.   And that brings a different dynamic to the relationship.Even if that is one where I eat cookies daily or more even.   I only do so when my owner unlocks the kitchen and allows me to.   Otherwise, like it or not, I wait.   Helpless and not in control.And it's that, that appeals to me about chastity belts more than anything else.   It's like bondage, but a bondage that can be applied 24/7/365.So it has always intreagued me. That, and the fact I can never really fit in one so it's like a teenager desiring beer, the more you're unable to have it, the more you crave the experience of it, at least once. Anyways, just some random musings from my head.   The end result with everything?   Whatever pleases most.   I don't need it, I don't not need it.    The relationship matters more.    I may always wonder how it may be though.   For better or worse.  But I can be happy never trying it just as I could/would being made to live with it 24/7.So like I said, just some random, maybe meaningless musings... thank you for visiting my mind with me this night...

Spot The difference Mark had a secret, one he kept even from himself most days. Tucked away in a encrypted folder on his laptop, labeled "Tax Records 2018," was a collection of stories. They were all variations on the same theme: powerful, confident women taking lovers while their husbands watched from the shadows, sometimes in anguish, sometimes in ecstasy. For Mark, these were a potent escape. In his mundane life—as a mid-level accountant, as a husband to the lovely but predictable Sarah—he was anything but powerless. He managed their finances, he decided on home repairs, he was, in every measurable way, the man of the house.   The fantasies were a complete inversion. They were a safe, controlled way to experience the loss of control. The humiliation in the stories was a curated spice, a theatrical performance of vulnerability that held no real-world consequences. He'd read them late at night, the glow of the screen illuminating his face, the scenarios playing out in his mind as a form of psychological release. He imagined the mix of jealousy and arousal, the complicated knot of emotions that made the fantasy so compelling. He even toyed with the idea of bringing it up to Sarah, but the words always caught in his throat. How could he possibly explain wanting to feel small and insignificant to the woman who relied on him to be anything but?   The fantasy was a perfect, self-contained jewel. The reality was a shattered mess.   It started with a shift in Sarah's behavior. A new, almost furtive energy. She started wearing perfume to work, which she hadn't done in years. She became protective of her phone, turning it screen-down on the counter. Mark, armed with the "knowledge" from his stories, told himself he was being paranoid. This wasn't like the neat narratives he read. There were no knowing glances, no whispered confessions. This was just… weirdness.   The confirmation came not through a dramatic confrontation, but through mundane technology. He was syncing their family photos to the cloud and her phone's camera roll automatically backed up as well. There, amongst pictures of their dog and a recent work event, was a short video. He tapped it, expecting a clip of a friend's birthday.   It was Sarah, on a hotel bed he didn't recognize, her head thrown back in a laugh he hadn't heard in years. And there was a man's arm, a tattoo of a coiled snake on its forearm, wrapped around her. The sound was off, but he didn't need it. The intimacy in the frame was a physical blow.   In his stories, the moment of discovery was the climax. The husband would feel a jolt of electric humiliation, his stomach would clench with a painful, illicit thrill. He would be aroused despite himself, his body betraying his mind as he watched the scene unfold.   Mark felt none of that.   He felt a cold, sickening hollerness in his gut. His hands started shaking so violently he dropped his phone. The screen cracked, spiderwebbing over the image of his wife and the snake-tattooed arm. He didn't feel a perverse thrill. He felt like he was going to throw up. The air in the room became thick and hard to breathe. This wasn't a carefully constructed narrative of power exchange; this was a raw, ugly betrayal.   The fantasy had always been about *him*. His reaction, his journey, his complex feelings. The wife was a catalyst, a powerful figure in his psychodrama. But this reality wasn't about him at all. It was about Sarah and her secrets. He wasn't an audience member in a consensual performance; he was the fool who hadn't even known he was off-stage.   When Sarah came home, she saw his face. She saw the phone on the floor. The story tumbled out, messy and tearful. It wasn't about power or dynamics; it was about loneliness and feeling invisible and a stupid, drunken mistake at a conference.   As she spoke, all Mark could think about were the stories. The clean lines of the text, the articulate descriptions of agony and desire. They were a lie. They were pornography, not reality. They had romanticized a pain that was, in truth, just jagged and brutal. There was no arousal in his devastation, no liberation in his humiliation. There was only the crushing weight of a broken trust, a thousand times heavier and more real than the paper-thin fantasies he'd used to distract himself from the very real possibility of such a pain. He had wanted to play with fire in a controlled environment, only to discover that in the real world, you just get burned.

Hotel from a sluts POV   We check into the hotel and as we are standing at the desk you brush your arm 'accidentally' across my nipples which are swollen and tied sticking out under my top being constantly rubbed and I'm trying to hide them as I know they are really visible. The reception definitely can't see my swollen tied clit or the sink plugs in my arse and cunt that are stretching my holes right in front of her but she can see in my face that I am slightly flushed and breathing a bit heavily. I wish she would type faster!  Finally we have our key. You tell me to walk ahead of you to the lift, I know this is so you can watch me on my heels in my tight skirt trying not to walk like a Slut full of cock.  We are in the lift alone and you take advantage of the time to rub over your handy work on my tits and cunt making me shake and cry out. And Cum inside myself. Unable to release it because of the plug. You smile at me and laugh at how ruined i am tonight. Already begging for you to fuck me.  In the room i stand in front of you with my hands on my head and my legs apart and wait for my master to tell me what to do next. You stroke over my body and sharply pull my nipples, bringing me round from my drift and then sit me down firmly on a chair in the corner and opening up a bottle of champagne that is on the desk. I am wriggling in the chair, trying not to moan out loud with the anticipation and my holes open.  You pour us a glass and turn around and sit on the sofa opposite and tell me to crawl over to you. I slowly crawl across the room my nipples rubbing on my shirt my clit rubbing when I move my legs because it is so swollen. I get to you and you tell me to kneel...  You lift me into your lap by my nipples making me get tears in my eyes and roughly hold me by the neck sideways on your knee...  With your free hand you pass my drink and tell me to drink it I am thirsty from breathing hard and knock it back. You put the glass down and spread my legs and tap on the plugs in my holes staring into me while I beg you to open me up and touch me inside....  You pull the sink plug out of my cunt tube leaving it held open and poke up inside me so I can feel the tip of your fingers deep in me but nothing where the tube sits making me really aware that I am gaped....  I can hear myself begging... Please Master, fill me up with your fist and cock I need it so much. .... then I feel a bit of a lurch and sway into you, I can still hear myself begging and moaning but everything is getting a bit weird and I realise, as I pass out that you are telling me that when I wake up I will get what a Slut deserves......  I don't know how long I am asleep.  I come to hog tied.  It is dark so I am blindfolded  I can't hear anything except my own heart and inner voice.  My mouth is now plugged like the other holes.  I wonder how this going to go!

2026 - What will you bring? It is a while since I developed a contact here into a rewarding encounter or relationship. But as you can see I am still here. Why, you may well ask? Why suffer the frustration? Well, simply because I know how good it can be.....when the connection is there. I have been extremely lucky a handful of times in my life, with special ladies - I cherish the memories of every one. A couple are no longer with us, a couple wanted more than I could give at the time and others just ran their course, parting as friends rather than partners. So I know!!! In late 2025, I encountered a soul that brought out the Dom in me, the best of me. If you like,  she awakened the beast within or the dark passenger I carry. It was not perfect. I misjudged an early element. She is hesitant to make any "move" or say anything - waiting for the Dom ( ie me ) to orchestrate everything. I prefer and am used to a more balanced partnership, but neither could deny the primal connection. During 2026 I tried to recover from my early faux pas and build a stronger bond. I knew and understood that she really wanted a full-time, 24/7/365 relationship, but hoped we could find a middle ground. While she stayed resistant to my charms and I harboured hopes, I could cope with the ambiguity - but that was lost in early December. I am not the jealous sort, but I don't share well - just the way I am. She has now visited and stayed with another single Dom at least twice, so backed off. I miss her. I miss our interaction. But I respect her choice. Submission is a gift that she holds in her hands until she trusts it to another. It is something I would treasure, but it is not something I could or would demand. I wish her will and hope that I may find another muse in 2026. Recently most interest in my profile has come from submissive men. I am not sure why, other than the number of men on this site? I don't judge, but it is not my thing. The interaction does not reach that beast within.  

sacred symphony: where love, lust, and devotion meet i’ve found myself at the crossroads of neurodivergence, spirituality, and kink—a meeting place where dominance isn’t just about power but about the profound and unending interplay of trust, ownership, and devotion. writing about these experiences feels like capturing the essence of an eternal union, where love, lust, and passion merge with spiritual and physical commitment to create a connection that transcends the fleeting and becomes permanent. this isn’t about navigating the surface of dating; it’s about diving into the sacred depths of what it means to fully belong to one another—body, mind, and soul. it’s about exploring devotion as an act of ultimate union, a fusion of spiritual and carnal energies that defy time and space. through my words, i seek to articulate the beauty and power of a connection that isn’t just a relationship but a lifelong symphony of surrender, love, and sacred commitment.  

It has been brought to my attention that Desire, my previous journal entry, was cut off midway through. So below I will post the rest of it. Desire part 2  What COULD he do? Bound as he was, I had not ever tested if he could crawl. I climbed down from the bed and tiptoed out of the room and walked back in as if I was returning from elsewhere. He jerked in the direction of my sounds, bells tinkling on my anklet, I noisily gathered a chain leash and walked to his helpless body and attached it to the ring on the collar of his special hood. "Come, puppy." I called in my sing song voice, the very one I use for my cats. "Come on, my handsome boy." He made a muffled noise and tried to orient his body to follow. Trying to rise up on his elbows and knees. I knelt down and gently petted his right cheek and could see him inhale and exhale sharply. "Good boy, that's right, come to me, follow, boy. Goood boy, my handsome boy" He tried to orient his body yet again and one of my cats wandered up and meowed, they, too, were used to such talk from me. As he struggled to get to his knees and elbows I tugged the leash impatiently as if irritated and said, "hurry the fuck up". I dragged him some by his neck and funnily enough he got into the position to hobble behind me. I smiled at that, his determination to please me. It was intoxicating. I led him, blind, behind me through the house to the third bedroom, which was my "office". It was under lock and key, in fact, the key for the office happened to also work on the lock of his cage, I had the lock on the door altered to match the key so he could not enter without permission. He knew that in that room he wasn't to speak. There he was a dog. My dog. My faithful puppy. We entered and I gave different commands. Sit, and he got into a kneeling position. Stay. And he would remain. Heel and he'd crawl to me and heel. Obedience. Blind obedience. I sat in my chair opened  the drawer on my desk as he knelt beside my right leg. Opened a book I kept in there and turned to the most recent page. I read through and opened my mouth and said firmly. "Yesterday, my property degraded himself and so degraded me. 25 swats with the cane. Get into position to receive" he groaned but complied as best he could while hobbled. "Remember, we do not move away from the pain, perfect love has perfect trust, be ready to receive. This is your penance. Count each stroke of the cane and be grateful to suffer and try to remember that to harm yourself is to harm Me, to love yourself is to love Me" He barked an affirmative, as the rule of the room was no speaking. The first strike he was still, taking the sting of the thin willowy cane. *bark* By the fifth his behind was quite red with deep lines. His barks were breathy and he swayed. *bark* counted out the tenth stroke. There trickled a pink clear fluid from one of the pretty lines. *bark* his voice was weary even through the hood and he had sweat in beads on his back. This was stroke 20. He trembled visibly and rocked on his knees. I thought I heard a sniffle. I raised the cane and swung but didn't strike him. He tensed and moved forward but not away. His breathing was quick yet shallow. I imagined tears and sweat and saliva in his hood. I raked my nails across his warmed ass, this was primal for me. This reminded me that he wasn't the only beast in the room. I wondered if I were sick, his perfect sadist, was I a monster to be so aroused by the brutality. I leaned down and said to him, lovingly, "there are five more, my love, are you strong enough to endure for me?" He nodded his head quickly and let out a low "bruf" bark. I stepped back, raised my arm and struck him quickly, five times, as hard as I could. I felt the cane cracking and at the last swat it snapped and a piece of the cane flew up and hit me. Startling me I yelped and he tried to get up and attend to me, forgetting his place and forgetting his binding and forgetting to bark five times. I should have written it down that the penance was not complete but was moved by his desire to care for me even when he was broken. "I'm fine. Remember your place" I called out. He stayed quiet for a minute and then nodded and barked five times to complete his punishment. Could I have been more in love with a man? I doubt it. I got down on my knees beside him and caressed his leather bound head and clucked over him. I cleaned his wounds and kissed his face over and over. I stood up and returned my book to my desk and gave another command. "Pleasure" He flopped onto his side and rolled onto his back with his legs opened. The true purpose of how he was bound is that being in a frog tie made it more difficult for him to fuck me. I decided I wouldn't yet unlock him so I sat on him in his cold metal cage with my hot pussy. Enjoying the feeling of him cooling my skin. Knowing that my weight on him was applying pressure to the wounds on his ass. He immediately tried to buck but I placed my right hand on his chest and my left on his neck and pressed down. He grunted and tried again to buck. Jerking his head upward in frustration, precum leaking out of his cage and smearing on his pubic hair and my lips. I began to grind on him, pressing hard on his neck while feeling his heart beat under my palm. Knowing that I was using my weight on his neck. He'd slow down and I'd release him and feel his heart race. The metal cage now warmed and wet from both of us. The blood and air rushing to his brain and lungs. "Would you like to cum, do you want me to unlock you?" I cooed and moaned and he sighed and nodded and gave a short "ruff". I slapped him and laughed. Then I moaned, "No, you haven't earned it" and ground against him in slow circles, feeling his balls draw up tight to his body. I scooted forward and leaned back to fiddle with his cage as I bounced on his chest, listening to the air whoosh out of his lungs. The sparse hairs tickled my clit and I felt I'd explode at any moment. I turned my torso and unlocked him. Now erect and free. "Are you allowed to cum without permission?" I asked breathily?" "Uhn" he grunted shaking his head and bucking his hips. </spa

The below is a great place to start.. Rules 1. The male must always practice respect, whether in private or public. Stand when she enters the room. Sit (or kneel) as soon as She is seated. 2. Be totally attentive: open doors, offer her your coat, she sits first, begins to eat first, and always ask permission to leave her presence. 3. The male should never speak unless spoken to, or unless anticipating the needs of his Mistress. 4. The submissive will never sit with legs spread or slouch in a way typical of untrained males. Good posture and decorum is a sign of respect. 5. The male will never stare at a woman without her permission. Unless the woman seeks eye-contact, the submissive will keep his eyes lowered at all times. 6. When walking with his Mistress, or any woman, the submissive will keep his gait in step with hers, which usually means taking smaller steps. The male should always be at least 1-2 steps behind, but not too far because he must open all doors. 7. The submissive must always be pleasant, never argue and never pout. 8. The male surrenders control of how he spends his time, how he dresses, what he eats, where he sleeps, the friends or acquaintances he is allowed to keep. 9. The submissive must remember that his orgasm does not belong to him but to his Mistress. It is Hers to use or deny... however she sees fit. 10. The submissive may never touch his own genitals without the permission of his Mistress. When washing, he must use a wash cloth or brush, never his hands. 11. The submissive should never buy his own clothing without the guidance of his Mistress. He should buy what pleases her, not what he likes. 12. When urinating, the submissive will always sit on the toilet... no exceptions. 13. The submissive must submit to eating only “submissive food” selected by his Mistress whenever she requires it. 14. When a meal is over the submissive must be quick to clear the table and wash the dishes. 15. The submissive must always give his Mistress the first choice of everything — She picks the channel on TV to watch, the restaurant to go to, the movie to see, the friends to entertain, etc. 16. The submissive will perform all household chores for his Mistress , to include(but not limited to): sweep and vacuum all floors and carpets mop all floors dust and polish all furniture make the beds every day wash and fold all clothing linen scrub bathrooms clean kitchen Cook meals wash dishes set the table shop for groceries take out trash and sort recycled items run all errands. Keep the lawn and grounds in great shape. Fix broken things around the house. Keep things maintained ie change the furnace filter every 3 months. Wash all cars inside and out. 

Sharing some things that goes on in our minds... Pet is in a black latex catsuit with a realistic pony hood and hoof boots. Bite gag tightly in place. Body, arms, and legs restrained tightly to a gyn chair. The usual steelworxx cage swapped for a spiked one. The owner is wear black hello kitty scrub top with black scrub pants with hello kitty crocs and pigtails. Black face masks, nitrile gloves, and ovipositor strapped on.  It's IVF day for the lil' pony.  It will be plugged after three cum laced gelatine eggs fill its holes. Then a cautery pen will discretely mark the first insemination date on its inner thighs.  How did we acquire the cum you ask when pet is locked in a steelworxx 247? smirks... Well, pet is not always a pony.   

Do you want to online chat ? Message back and forth for months ? Are you a snowflake ? If so ....Then your best bet is to pass by this profile! Are you 100 % serious ? Are you able to relocate if you aren't in my state ? Do you have serious life skills or willing to learn? Do you mind not being the only male I own ? I'm not on here looking for a boyfriend I'm warm hearted and cold-hearted. I'm a sensible and sane person. I'm easy to talk to . I don't like talking about useless stuff. I've been in and out of this lifestyle for years. I'm not NOT interested in fulfilling your sexual fantasy. I'm honest and looking for loyality and honestly. Before you attempt to write to me re-read and understand this profile, even if it's just a little understand. I prefer a straight male, but if you like being a sissy as well I'm ok with that. However it's not about you , seriously it is not about you . If you want things to always be about you and what you want then don't bother with me.

 quirkylittle4daddy