For all you fellows out there griping about not getting replies, "even if it's just to say no thanks", understand that we (women) often get tons of messages on these sites, many or most from guys who are sending out copypasta to every woman on the site, without bothering to read a profile first.  Yes, it only takes a minute or so to reply to ONE message, but multiply that by dozens of messages per day, per site. And then there is the fact that the majority of our, "No thank you", messages result in then being insulted, harassed, going from being beautiful and desireable to being a fat, old, ugly bitch, whore, cunt, and worse, and often threatened with being beaten, raped, killed, doxxed, etc... All for the crime of a polite rejection to some random dude in our inbox. So, instead of assuming that you are ENTITLED to a woman's time and attention simply because you messaged her, how about you read profiles before messaging, only send a message if it does not violate any boundaries listed in said profile, and is not asking for or offering things she does not specifically say she is looking for in said profile, and makes an effort to treat her as a human being, rather than a sex or fetish dispenser. And then, if you don't get a reply, take that as she is either busy and will get back to you when she has time, or she is not interested, without getting all pissy because she did not reply to your unsolicited message. Also, unless you reply to EVERY unsolicited email, phone call, junk mail, etc. that you receive, with at least a polite, "no thank you", then you are a hypocrite for expecting such of others who did not ask you to contact them.  

What I seek is more than play/sex. Maybe if you get to know me as a human being you might have more luck. I seek that feeling of danger, but knowing I am safe from harm. He is in control of his life and doesn't have to beat his chest to prove his dominace. He doesn't beg for my submission, he proves himself worthy of it by consistency, that calm controled authority, and care. He may well be sadistic, but that is not what drives him.  He is playful and has a great sense of humor, but can tame my brat with a look, a growl, or a snap of his fingers. He is demanding, an asshole even, but he gives of himself freely. His time, his energy, his focus.  He has time for the mating dance and is dedicated to the process.  He is equally at home beating my behind or taking a romantic stroll down the beach He is not afraid of his inner sadist. I seek 24/7 tpe with the right one but I have learned that not everyone, in fact very few, are worthy of my submission. I cannot leave NZ perminantly.

Am I a monster? by Sintara » Sat Dec 05, 2009 12:21 pm I am a female sexual sadist. I spend hours on end fantasizing about torturing men. I don't hate men, I love them actually. The more I like them and the more I feel sexually attracted to them the more I want to hurt them. Nothing turns me on more than the whimpering sounds and wincing facial expressions they make or if they cry. I also find myself turned on if I see a guy limping. Its even more exciting to me to see other people who care about them feel sorry for them when they see the injuries they have later. I would love to be able to torture a guy and then send him home to a loved one and get to be a fly on the wall so that I could watch that person feeling bad for them and trying to help them.I obsess over CBT. My fantasies get pretty extreme. I know that there are many sexual sadists out there but I feel like a monster because my fantasies are so extreme. I feel guilty because despite feeling like a monster I also feel a strong desire to find a man who is masochistic enough to allow me to do these things to him. I try not to think about it but I can't stop. I can't get sexually aroused without picturing suffering men in my mind. I collect pictures of injured and tortured men to look at so that later I can have sex with my husband without him knowing how sick I am.I also have a blindness fetish. I would like to find someone who would agree to wear contacts that made them blind so that I could watch them try to make their way around without sight. I would also enjoy hurting them without them being able to see when it was coming. I might make him complete tasks for me blind so I could watch him struggle. With contacts instead of a blindfold I chould still fully see their facial expressions, which are very important to me. Then I would be aroused enough to have sex with them. I would want them to still wear the contacts during sex so I was in complete control.I'm so tortured by all of this because my husband called me a "sexual psychopath" and I have to hide it from him now. It has ruined our sex life. I'm addicted to it and don't know what to do. SintaraConsumer 4 Posts: 92Joined: Sat Dec 05, 2009 8:57 amLocal time: Wed Apr 20, 2022 12:37 pmBlog: View Blog (0)

I was logging in the other day when I spotted a random profile, where the owner was bragging he'd had a profile on here for some 11 years, I nearly said something to him as to however long you've had a profile on here doesn't make you a better Dom, anyway my seventeen years trumps his eleven. I'm sixty five in a few day's time, the first thought that enters my mind most mornings is "How the hell did that happen"I've spent many years looking for my miss right I guess if I've not found her by now the chances are I'm not going too. I spent far too many years fighting to stay alive I guess I just missed out on life, but I can't say I've been unhappy I've just never really known the joy of finding a partner, there was a few attempts but nothing that lasted for long, I did have a live in sub for a few years but she turned out to be violent and on one occasion managed to put me in hospital. It's said what one has never had one will never miss, I really don't know how true that is.

A recent message asked me to name "one experience thats shaped your journey in the BDSM world", and I thougt of this poem. It is about a scene I monitored in the early summer of 1999. The title is the name of the wonderful, beautiful woman, a friend, mentor, and so much more, to so many people over the years, and the sub in the scene. I miss you, "Mom".  Allena Beautiful golden hillside Lush with fine, silken grasses Trembling as he works his Mastery With every crack like thunder, Another crimson dewdrop appears; Meeting one another, dancing into rivulets, Until her hills and valleys run with ruby wine. Over and over, agony meets ecstacy; Mingling tears with sighs As she shudders with pleasure and pain. I shudder too, as I watch. Start at every strike; Feel each blow as it lands. I imagine I am there beside her; And for a precious moment...We are one. ©Khaos WolfKat 2001  

Ahh, my favorite season is here... Anything-But-Summer! I love the cooler weather in general, plus it gives me an opportunity to spend more time working in my yard. Now is the perfect time to look over my plants to see what was successful, and what may need relocated or even replaced. Once again, I'm enjoying the small surprises, such as the blueberries that have survived and even appear to be thriving in the bags in which I purchased them this spring. I'm saddened by the plants that looked promising in the spring, yet didn't survive the summer.  Much like those plants, although pleasant for a while, apparently I need to reassess some of the relationships in my life and consider finding others that have the potential to last longer and grow even more beautiful. Who wants to frolic and grow in my garden? *ominous grin*

Tree of life and tree of knowledge were not actually trees. The tree of life was God and the tree of knowledge was the devil. The devil was actively talking to Eve in the garden about how he felt towards God. Eve was believing him and started talking to Adam about it who wasn't sure but eventually sided with his wife Eve. They wanted the devil to rule over them instead of God. It was the devil who told them they were naked. It was the devil who said they weren't getting what they truly needed from God. When God came to the garden they hid from him thinking he was the bad guy that the devil made them to believe. They were clothed with leaves. God questioned this and asked who told them they were naked and they told them the devil did. God then asked them what else the devil said. God then gave them a choice to worship him or follow under the devil's care. They chose the devil. God kicked them out of the garden and explained to them they would die one day because they were leaving the tree of life behind and they would no longer have access to it. They would have to learn from their choices. 

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! 

Lately I've watched videos of people showing fake food, I've even come across some of it Myself.   But, I also question My life choice coming on this site that is now so full of fake people. They have flesh and bones yes, but no soul, no honesty, half truths, and sometimes just down right lying losers and energy vampires.   I know I can't be the only one knowing this. I hear from men saying the same thing however , they are usually ( not always ) bullsh#ters themselves. Yet here I am, still looking for a honest person is a sea of 1000's. Come on people, DO BETTER !  If your just looking for a play partner, say so.  If you have family,property, work or a business and can't move, say so, better yet don't even write ,unless you will benefit Me. I'm not a needy person, I do well enough on My own. I'm not looking for a certain look, body type or financial status.  I don't give a sh#t.  Just because the world is going a bit crazy doesn't mean you have to. I only want grounded honest people around Me. That's it !  

MstrB writing from midtown been looking for one decent slave for some time now it will be well trained for a variety of domestic services and hopefully for the slaves sake it is able to learn from its corrections …even better if it already knows exactly what it’s good for!  ...all its further educating will be done with a strap kept very close by.... it will be made to understand it has no rights no privileges no freedom to come or to go without asking for and receiving  express permission  so much in life is correctly forbidden to a slave  and it must be reminded of this consistently if not constantly slave has no secrets no privacy or much time alone and certainly no participation or place in any considerations or discussions about things going to be done with the slave in fact it has no say in much of anything slaves Owner will have full authority over the slave and its affairs and will use that authority very strictly I am understanding of slaves condition I am sympathertic to its plight and always give a slave what it needs but allow very little of what it wants this is both an Owners prerogative over the slave as well as an extension of a kind of parental authority therefore no disrespect or disobedience will be permitted ...ever! MrB   ------------------------------------------------------------------------       I use…and enjoy very much using… real discipline- isolation- humiliation-lots of busy work in the home...all to train a female to a level of acceptable domesticity…sort of housebreaking the slave…teaching both the need for her focused Obedience and the necessity to perform with humility and accuracy whatever is demanded from her chores chores chores…so much to be done….so many things to attend to... upon collaring slaves pussy will be immediately closed for business as her chastity must be clearly established for the oversexed sluts own good...she will have no orgasms until permitted ..her hands fingers etc will be kept from her vaginal area except for purposes of good hygiene and then only under direct supervision...
 rule of thumb...a slave will be fully given what she needs and very very little of what she wants. so I am here seeking full Ownership of such a woman and she would do well to have a real slave personality....certain qualities will be emphasized in her training as more wanted than others...humility for instance...a highly prized quality that can't be stressed enough and that is wholly attractive to see when presented with sincerity …she will be shown how to provide service as the Obedient intelligent servant she was born to be… she will complement my life and basically make things easier for me in whatever way she is called on…as a relationship develops between Owner and slave she will come to appreciate more and more the kinds of support and guidance given to her... she will learn to approach her Owner with nothing less than demonstrable Respect under all circumstances… her training in how to properly submit herself will never really end so her attention will be directed to intellectual things I will insist she consider and think about...adult slave lessons on a cerebral level… she will be stripped, anally plugged and put into a submissive position on her knees or perhaps ordered to freeze on her tiptoes... she will then be closely questioned about these things…her answers are required and truly valued… she must be responsive and forthcoming to all questions about her feelings her moods and her progress in becoming more servile and useful..the point being to make her a better servant and a more responsive slave....these interrogations and her confessions of her feelings will be a ritual she will learn to anticipate and expect …the reasons for them are simple..I want her to be fully aware of her condition in this lifestyle and in my life most of all…she belongs to me as my property and she is subject to my discipline my control my desires and decisions for her… I want her to learn to accept and in the end embrace the benefits she enjoys thanks to me because I do what I think is best for her… I will do whatever needs to be done to turn this woman into the best slave she can possibly be …I am a sexual sadist all my life and knew this when I was about eight or nine though I had no idea of the implications…
I use many forms of personality and behavioral techniques.. real discipline, humiliation, isolation, very tight bondage, sensory dep... whatever I find has the greatest effect on her emotions.. I will happily enforce her Obedience until she learns to respectfully offer it...one way or another I will get what I want from her…she will be trained to domestic service of various kinds...she will be watched closely and fairly judged on how well she performs these tasks and she will be unfailingly punished when she fails to do them as instructed...her good service is a pure reflection of her Respect for her Owner and her place in his life... her Obedience is the essence of her slave self....to be useful in all ways and show that she knows her place at all times is one of her many goals as the slave she is.... and her training will center heavily on perfecting her attitude as she is carrying out the tasks given her ...no matter what the work or activity is, it must be performed with a pleasing attitude...with humility... and if not?...
so many reasons a woman offers to give her a memorable correction…as though a reason were even needed.  I am open for discussion of all issues which will come up and need to be addressed to keep things balanced and harmonious between Owner and slave…she will be safe and protected from as much of the outside world as she wants to not have to deal with... I welcome the amazing emotional connections that come from a successful M/s relationship and take full responsibility for what I do !... not everything can be solved with a strap but for a true slave? nothing else will do……McB  

I've been lurking on this site, wondering whether to contact anyone and realising that I'm not sure what I'm looking for in many ways. I'm torn between wanting a committed 24/7 D/s relationship with a wonderful Domme, or osmething more casual because I'm conscious that I'm looking at transitioning, that I want to do a PhD, and that I have a load of books I want to write. I don't want to present myself as something I'm not, and I don't want to be with someone who seems intent on denigrating me from the off (and so a lot of Dommes' profiles have me backing away because of their tone).  I must admit too, that even though I think of myself as a decent writer, I'm coming up short with what to actually say to people. A simple introductory message feels like it could be fraught with danger, and yes that does seem incredibly stupid to say.  Anyway, I thought I would put something here just because "I ain't dead" as Granny Weatherwax from the Discworld books would put it. 

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.

 mastergcs