Update december 8 2022  I don't know if anyone noticed but I was gone for a while. It wasn't by choice and I wasn't too happy about it either. What happened was I was logged out of CS (I usually never log out so I don't know why this happened) and it was impossible to log back on. In addition to user id and password the site requires a capchta, and there was none. I tried everything with no success. I wasn't sure if the problem was at my end or if Collarspace was broken. I could read but not write or in any other way take active part and I could not access my mails. After trying other browsers and other devices with the same result I figured it was Collarspace and I decided to contact support. Turned out one has to be logged in to do so, so no help to be found there. All I could do was wait and hope for someone to notice and do something about it. Meanwhile I lost some people hanging in the middle of our conversations without a clue to why I didn't reply. So here goes: I didn't ghost you! I was locked out! Happy Hollidays! (In case I don't update this until next year.)

Gabriel was Jesus.  In Daniel chapter 8 through 10 a man visits Daniel. A voice confirms that it is Gabriel in Daniel 9:21. When the man appears to Daniel again in chapter 10 it does not state that it is Gabriel but I would think the same man would continue to come to him means though he showed up twice already to Daniel. It would not be needed to state a third time that it was Gabriel. And I believe if it was another person Daniel would have been told who it was like how he was told before that the man was Gabriel that came to him in chapters 8 and 9.   In chapter 10 it states that this man's appearance has a body of beryl, face like lightning, eyes like lamps of fire, arms and feet like polished brass, and a voice like the sound of a multitude. He is in the form of a man.    In John 17:5 Jesus is praying to his father in heaven and he states that he wants to be glorified at his side with the glory he has alongside the Father that he had before the world was.    This could be why Mary didn't notice him and mistook him as the gardener and why the one disciple had to put his fingers in the holes of Jesus's hands to truly believe that it was him.    Also in John 8:58 Jesus says before Abraham was I am. He was formed before we were ever created. He created us. He is the invisible image of God but gives all the glory back to the Father as he listens to the Father and does the Father's will. He was Gabriel the mouthpiece of God.    In revelations Jesus is said to come back with his face shining like the sun, voice like the sound of many waters, feet like burnished bronze, eyes like the flame of fire, and hair as white as wool, as a Son of Man meaning a human form with a divine presence.   

11/27/25 - updated 12/2/25* I'm at a turning point. I'll be focusing on things and people IRL. If you're near Denver and want to meet up at an event, drop me a line. I don't get message notifications here on CS, so FetLife may be your best bet. I hope you have an enjoyable and safe holiday season! Blue (= *I was away from CS for a while due to an illness. The cause remains unknown, however the effects were evident... The left hemisphere of my head went numb for almost two weeks, and I completely lost hearing in my left ear. I had balance issues, trouble focusing, and since the ear and sinus infection spread to my eye, I had pinkeye. It was frustrating to be unable to attend events at the Dungeon, including the party I'd spent over a year planning. Most of my hearing returned, though I gave some permanent damage on the left side. I'm wondering if there may have been some effect on my mental health while the side of my head was numb... I'm doing OK for the most part, just facing some issues that I haven't experienced in years. I'll be fine, I know. As always, I try to keep a positive attitude. Unfortunately I didn't get much accomplished during the month or so I was ill, which is one big reason I'm focusing on people and events locally. I'm still looking for a sub/slave, though, so I won't be gone for good. 😉

  This is, I think, my first Journal Entry. I have written responses to several profiles posted by women on this site.  I have never included a "laundry list of activities", but rather simply presented myself as a submissive male in search of LTR with a lady who desires to take the lead in a relationship. I have had little luck with this approach, having actually met 2 women, one of which judged me too old (76 then) and still under 80 now.  I have read many profiles posted by dominant women here, not a few of which express frustration about subs "who want to top from the bottom" and a like number who seem to not like for sub men to say what they  want in the way of activities.  At the same time some women have an exhaustive "laundry list" of actiities in which they are interested, Recently, I responded to such a profile and before doing so, I printed a 3 or 4 page laundry list of activites from the lady's laundry list.  I responded by giving information about my knowledge, inteest, experience, like or dislike, or opinion of each item on the list.  Because CS system doesnt seem to like really long responses to profiles, I broke it down in 4 or 5 diffeent messages.  To my surprise, the lady read them all, whch is the opposite of my experience with most of my other responses.  She sent me a not telling me she liked the  detailed responses to her laundry list, even thanked me for it.  Of coursel I was rejected, but it was better than beilng ignored. So, tell me please, ladies, do you really want such detailed responses to you profiles on the first contact?  Or, is the problem more about being between 76 and 80, is just too old to begin with?? with respect, dachastesub

So many letters asking about the intro quote in my profile. Nope, it's not from a book. I wrote it. For all those who are asking, here's the full version:::   That sweet girl, with the world in her soul, the heart of it on her sleeve, tears like diamonds never shed for the pain of the world felt too sweetly. She holds it all, your dreams, your desires, and the ability to take your darkest fantasies and make them whole. She is strength of spirit, and her soul flies free above you. You can take her to arm, like a falcon coming to roost, but you will never tether this feather of sunlight. Yet, fragile is this creature. As if to say, all your words were glass in delicate hands. One false word, and the glass shatters, shards of bloody pain amidst her fragile fingers. Oh, speak you the truth, that her gentle hands stay soft and her eyes glow for you. Speak you the truth, that the world, your world, not shatter and leave her with glow extinguished. Rather let her fly, admiring the curve of her as she soars, knowing that it is to you she returns, that sweet girl, to let you glimpse the heart of it all deep within falcon green eyes."  by yourgirljoy 2022

TO ANYONE WHO BLOCKED ME OR GHOSTED ME Thank you. When a person ghosts or blocks me I think it says more about them than it does about me. When someone ghosts or blocks me I say a little prayer. Well, that's not the first thing I do. The first thing I do is to probably to say a few little curse words --- just a few of my favorites --- and then I say a little prayer. I say the prayer because I am thankful that I dodged a bullet. I think that people who ghost or block others are weak and cowardly. They don't have the strength of character, integrity, honesty, or courage that I want, in fact, require in anyone that I am associated with whether it be a friend, a submissive, a colleague, or anyone else. They are doing me a favor by ghosting or blocking me because I am better off without them.  

Another special day for me, My ex and mother of my children finally succeeded in what she promised me.  She "destroyed everything I held dear in life".  She can't take all credit for it though.  A huge contribution was done by the total madness that is our Belgian justice system.  Where the whole world lives by the statement: "innocent till proven guilty", our justice wanted something different and chose: "guilty till proven innocent ".  Which means that if you just file false complaints?  The person who receives them will be scarred for live, and will end up with his children taken from him, homeless, and with a mountain of debt for the rest of his life. That second one was me... Since I'm gonna be living on the street anytime soon, a phantasy of mine has become a necassity in order to survive.  I'm sure y'all know what I mean by that. As a consequence, the mistress/master who takes me in as a 24/7 sissy maid will receive a great amount of gratitude and obidience.  So if you're interested in a broken but sweet and passionate sissy that's willing to relocate inside western Europe?  Make sure to give me sign. Love, Nikita❤️ 

We are unable to accomodate live in 24/7/365 situations or assist with relocation One of us will offer to meet with you via video or in person before engaging in any kink activity.  Both Owner and slave travel fairly extensively from their respective sides of the pond so while geography is not always a challenge, some places will be easier than others. Please be ready to meet us part of the way, be realistic about your abilities and availabilities. Currently we are looking for information about any private outdoor play space locations.  The Owner is also looking experienced heavy bottoms for sharps (needles, scalpel, hooks, and more) and folks into genital torture. 

The Weight of Three Minutes : End "Unzip my skirt," I ordered, my voice rougher now, the command firm. "Slowly." His hands emerged from behind his back with visible reluctance, as though the loss of that self-imposed restraint felt like a diminishment. He found the zipper at my hip with trembling fingers and drew it down with excruciating care, the teeth separating inch by inch, the fabric parting to reveal what I wore beneath, thigh-high stockings in sheer black, the lace tops pressing into my skin, and between them, nothing but my own arousal, glistening and undeniable. I let the skirt fall, stepping out of it with deliberate grace, and settled back against the chair with my legs parted just enough to display everything he was forbidden to touch. I watched his gaze track down my body, watched the moment he registered my wetness, the visible evidence of what his submission had done to me. "Look at what you can't have," I taunted, and heard the cruelty in my own voice, the deliberate sharpening of his hunger. "You over steeped my tea. You don't get to taste this." He made a sound: helpless, desperate, and I saw his hands clench at his sides, the struggle for control visible in every line of his body. His arousal was unmistakable now, straining against the constraint of his clothing, and I let my gaze linger there deliberately, acknowledging what I was denying him even as I refused to relieve it. I held his eyes for a long moment, letting him feel the weight of my decision, the absolute nature of my control. Then I reached forward and caught his hair in my hand, gripping tight enough to direct him, to control every movement. "You over steeped the tea," I repeated, my voice dropping to something almost gentle, almost tender in its cruelty. "So you're going to steep yourself in me." I pulled him forward without ceremony, pressing his face between my thighs with deliberate force. He made a sound of surprise, gratitude, desperate relief, and then I felt it, the hot wet pressure of his tongue finding me, eager and unskilled in his hunger, lapping at me with the desperate thoroughness of someone who knew this was his only permitted release. I held him there with my grip in his hair, setting the rhythm, controlling the pressure, using his mouth exactly as I needed. I gasped, my own arousal cresting faster than I had expected, sharpened by the power of holding him, directing him, denying him everything but this service. "Don't you dare stop too soon. I'll make you regret it." He redoubled his efforts, his tongue finding my clit with desperate precision, lapping and circling with the frantic energy of someone who knew his pleasure depended entirely on mine. I felt the heat building, the tight coil of release gathering at my core, and I rode his face harder, grinding against his mouth with abandon, using him exactly as I had promised. The orgasm hit me suddenly, violent and consuming, my body arching as I cried out, my grip in his hair tightening painfully. I held him there through it, not allowing him to retreat, forcing him to feel every pulse, every aftershock, to understand completely that he had served his purpose. My chest heaved, my breath coming in ragged gasps, and I let my head fall back against the chair, savoring the weight of satisfaction the ruined tea had failed to provide. I held him there a moment longer than necessary, feeling the wet heat of his face against my thigh, the subtle tremor in his shoulders as he waited for my permission to move. Then I released my grip on his hair, letting my hand fall to rest on the arm of the chair, and I looked down at him with the lazy satisfaction of someone who had taken exactly what she wanted. "Better," I murmured, the assessment carrying the weight of both praise and dismissal. "At least you can follow some instructions." He brings what I need without being asked, which is the only acceptable way to bring anything in this house. Cool water, a warm cloth, everything arranged with the quiet efficiency of a man who has understood that the aftermath of my pleasure is as sacred as the pleasure itself and deserves the same quality of attention. He assists me back into my clothing with careful hands, smoothing fabric, fastening what needs fastening, restoring the precise and elegant exterior that the world sees when it looks at me. When I am dressed he steps back and kneels without being told. "Devotional," I say, and hand him The Binder, observing him as he flips to the correct page. "Then lunch." He bows his head, and begins reciting from the large book. "She is the standard and the destination. What I give is never enough until she glows. I serve the aftermath as I serve the moment. I am most fully myself at the bottom of her world. This is my honor. This is my purpose. This is my place." He rises, bows one last time, moves to the kitchen, and begins preparing lunch as I stretch out in the sun on a love seat with my book in hand, feeling like a cat that caught the cream. (Finis/End)

One got to love those indecisive str8 males. They know what they want, crave it, and dream with it. However, they are terrified to discover their true desires which for against their concept of masculinity. I am well aware of the effect I have on males in general. But in the case of indecisive str8 males I am terrifiying. not good looking, not a body to look at, but full of attitude and a very noticeable bulge that is always an eye catcher. I understand the conflict, there is a struggle between what the body is telling them and what their rational mind opposes. The truth is that there is a physiological contradiction; the find themselves aroused and painfully hard and their hole quivering and wet. not into guys, never had been, so what's is wrong? Nothing is wrong, the fact and plain truthe is that they found a male a man that swept them off their feet and there is no denying; the want to be close and to feel the totality of  a sexuality that now awakened refuse to retreat.  They can rationalize all they can and they can flatly denny the obvious but the fact remains the proud str8 male fell for another more powerful male! What to do? Society, religion, the wife or gf at home, and the friends know this male as a man man , and now he is still is but there is an interest a craving, a thirst that only another man (me) que quench and there is the conflict that can only be solved by surrendering and realizing that there is no label only an expansion of sexuality; a top and leader in public and asubmissive with the man that owns your most treasured space; your virginity. Step Up to the plate be a man and give your body what you now now it needs; a true male a Bull. 

Drax & Scott Max - The Sun Moments... (I) Count each moment Believing you'll set me free Wanting... Draws you closer I taste you on the air I breathe Touch me Feel me Come and feel the love this time that's in my heart and set me free Touch me Feel me Save me from this emptiness inside Here comes the sun Here comes the feeling Here comes the moment that we've waited for so long...

🌿🌾about me:🌾🌿 hello my name is pebble. I am a traditional girlfriend and slave with a twist of modern realistic values. 👽what does that mean and entail? I am happy you asked!👽 I am a stay-at-home live-in-girlfriend who also is a practicing lifestyler. my role in my relationship is that of tradition. I make sure the house is clean and dinner is ready when my man gets home. I make sure his coffee is ready in the morning before he goes to work and that at the end of a long hard day of him working he comes home to a slut in the bedroom. I seek out a protector and gentleman both in my relationship and friendships with others.  👽🌾 so do you want to be friends and wait for the aliens to come enslave us humans?🌾👽

Frequently Asked Questions: Q: How is your search going? A: Are you fucking kidding me with this question!? If my search to become a slave was going well I wouldn't fucking be here would I?  My search sucks because of assholes who send me emails that say, you look like you'd be a good fuck, how's your search going?  I hate my search.  I hate being allowed to use a computer and have a profile here.  I hate that I'm allowed on the internet.  I hate having rights.  That's how my search is going you fucking idiot.   Q: Are you on hormones? A: Well are you on viagra or Cialis?  How's your blood pressure?  Do you still get full erections?  If you think this is an appropriate question to ask someone in a first email then you are not intelligent enough to own me.  I'm so sorry that you're too dumb to own me.  It could have been really special but I'm a real cunt who doesn't answer medical questions to perfect strangers who think THAT is a good way to break the ice.   Q:  How's it going? A: It's going fine.  I am blown away by what an amazing first email this is and I want to be yours now.  You are clearly the one.  You asked me how it's going.  No one has ever thought to start an email like that before.  You are so unique and charming I can help but want to suck every drop of cum out of your cock that I can.   Q: Your profile says you're 18 but you've been here for years. A: Wow. You're super smart.  No fooling you.  No Sir.  I tried to pull a fast one but you were all over it and now I'm busted.  You got me.  It has nothing to do with the fact that this site doesn't update age on it's own and updating it myself means my profile might be down for weeks while they approve it if ever.  Here's an idea though.  Since you're so clever why don't you add the number of years I've been here to the age listed on my profile and conclude that's how I old I am now.     Q: Wanna be my slave? A: No.    Q: Do you really think you're going to find a Master with an attitude like that? A: Yes.  He just won't be you.  Unfortunately, you are a moron.   Q: You're very beautiful. A: That's not a question but it is something every asshole on this site says to me so you saying it to me makes you exactly as special to me as it makes every other dude.   Q: You're so funny.  I can't believe these guys ask you all these dumb questions.  They are all idiots.  I loved the sassy way you dealt with them in your FAQs.  It's too bad there are so many fake doms on this site.   A: Shut up.  This is almost as lame as the You're very beautiful or Are you on hormones emails. I get it.  You read the FAQs.  You must be better than the rest.  Oh please Master, let me lick Your asshole clean now.  You are amazing.    

New year and new beginnings   After becoming active in March, it’s been a slow gradual progress getting back into the scene. I was weary at first due to the past weighing me down and the current situation I was in at the time. Reflecting back to where I was, to where I am now, I've come a long way and ebbing forward in becoming comfortable in my own skin and who I am.   It's been a massive change from no social life to meeting so many Brilliant kinky minded people, I find what was easy for me to interact with people with self-confidence was gone a long time ago, however big thank you to the people that have given me advice and self-belief,(even if I was kicking and screaming) to carry on and not to be discouraged about social situations or setbacks in the things that I do. So, a big thank you to all from me, for helping on my pervy journey.   What do I think back on 2023? Well, my plans and ambition has changed after moving and starting again. From dudgeon hire and Airbnb to just letting things come and go as they will, due to this I've gained so much freedom. Not being tied down finically and mentally that I'm now traveling a lot more than 15 years ago. Finding out and planning to attend old/new munches, clubs, workshops. Planning ahead for meets with people that I met along the way. Working on play Scenes and finally relearning my skills as a practitioner that I thought I lost all so long ago.   You don’t tend to realize, what was taken for granted can be lost or thought lost, I thought so for a long time, still do at times but it's the willingness to draw a line in the sand with yourself, to make a new start in thinking, to carry on consistently in what you're doing and where you're going, that what was lost is just misplaced.   I restarted this journey on my own and now joined with people on their own paths, it can be scary and daunting at times, it can also be exciting and rewarding but there is now one thing constant that I'm thankful for, I'm not on my own on this path anymore and I'm grateful for the close connections people have made with me.   So, taking a step back, what have I achieved? Establishing myself back in NW scene. That was my goal last year, but I've achieved so much more without realizing it. Creating a scene and doming in public display. New techniques in sensory and impact play. I am more proficient with the Violet wand and regaining my self-confidence as a dominant in styles of role play. I've been asked to mentor and accepted; it is a responsibility I take seriously and has helped me retread old ground with my own training from over 20 years ago. And last, somehow (I'm thanking the gods and certain people wile typing this) in the winter after taking up residence at club lash, I'm now Dudgeon Monitoring, I will always feel more comfortable working. It’s helped immensely to quickly orientate myself back as a semi professional in-house dominant and I'm honestly grateful this has happened.   Moving forwards to 2024 I have a firmer grasp of myself and what I am able to do now and what I want to do in the future. There are some projaspects in the works from group activities to self-improvement, some long term other short, but all kink related as I reacquaint myself back more into the lifestyle   My path may have been slow and gradual, but I've come a long way, and can look back knowing I'm on the right path. I still have a long way to go and don’t know if this path will end as new avenues open in 2024, but for now be mindful, live in the present, take stock, give thanks and appreciation in what you have. To stay humble, to stay hungry for the knowledge and opportunities that have been given to you and to always appreciate those meaningful connections that people give you.   2023 thank you   2024 I'm ready... more than i will ever be and I'm looking forward to what comes further down the road

On Jealousy in the Master/slave Dynamic Jealousy is a corrosive force within a Master/slave relationship. It is the enemy of structure, the destroyer of authority, and the betrayer of trust. Where jealousy exists, leadership falters. A Master’s role is to stand as the embodiment of certainty and command, yet jealousy undermines this by planting insecurity where strength should reside. Insecurity breeds suspicion, suspicion breeds resentment, and resentment fractures the very foundation upon which the Master/slave bond is built. A jealous Master ceases to lead with clarity. Instead, he reacts from fear, clouding judgment and weakening authority. The slave, whose role is to serve in confidence and devotion, becomes hesitant. Obedience shifts into caution, and devotion turns to apprehension. A slave cannot flourish under the shadow of jealousy, for it suffocates the freedom of surrender and replaces it with doubt. This is why jealousy cannot be tolerated—it disrupts the natural order and erodes the respect upon which all dominance rests. Furthermore, jealousy is weakness exposed. A Master must be the anchor, the standard, and the pillar of certainty. To be consumed by envy is to show the slave that his authority has cracks. When a slave perceives these cracks, reverence diminishes, and the Master’s position is compromised. Authority that bends to jealousy is no true authority—it is performance without substance. A Master ruled by such impulses becomes no more than an equal to his slave, which destroys the hierarchy. Correcting Jealousy The cure for jealousy lies in discipline, self-mastery, and reinforcement of order. Several steps must be taken: Uncompromising Honesty – Communication must be enforced. A Master must demand full truth from his slave and give unclouded truth in return. Jealousy thrives in silence and shadows; it dies when exposed to the light of direct speech. Reinforcement of Structure – Protocols, rituals, and rules must be upheld without compromise. When order is maintained with precision, the framework leaves no room for insecurity to grow. Clarity in expectations eliminates confusion, and clarity weakens jealousy’s hold. Practice of Self-Mastery – A Master must control himself before he can hope to control another. Jealous impulses must be recognized, acknowledged, and dismissed without indulgence. This requires discipline, reflection, and the will to remain above base instincts. Methods such as journaling, meditation, or ritualized reflection may be employed to strengthen the mind. Seeking Counsel – A wise Master does not fear counsel. Speaking with experienced Dominants or mentors provides grounding and perspective. No Master diminishes himself by learning; he diminishes himself only by refusing to correct weakness. Commitment to Strength – A Master must remember at all times that jealousy is beneath him. It is weakness, and weakness cannot lead. The slave must see strength that does not waver, for respect and obedience are born only from confidence in the Master’s unshakable command. Final Teaching Understand this: jealousy is incompatible with mastery. It is a betrayal of the title “Master” itself. Where jealousy reigns, authority is false, and leadership is hollow. Only through discipline, honesty, and unyielding strength can jealousy be eradicated. A true Master confronts it, defeats it, and stands as the anchor his slave requires. Let it be known: a jealous Master is unfit to lead until he masters himself.

After years of being in D/s relationships, I've come to realize that I am just not capable of equality in 'vanilla relationship'. I gave it a shot but discovered how unfulfilled, frustrated and dispirted I became when engaged in a relationship with a partner as 'equals'. Dispite attempting to gravitate away from any D/s aspect within a relationship, my natural instincts and habitual tendencies always found a way to emerge subconsciously without my realization. My inner desire would have me doing things that used to be commonplace as a domestic slave but were highly discouraged during my attempts with 'vanilla relationships'. My therapist believed I subconsciously believe I am not worthy of love, but I disagree entirely. My love for submission, service and dedicating my every waking moment in pursuit of another individual's happiness is love on a different scale. She says that's just obsession and addiction, I told her she didn't know what happiness and life is about. I explained how in my relationships in D/s, happiness is a product of my devotion, loyalty and making my owner's life simpler, less stressful and more fulfilling in all aspaspects, which directly impacts my happiness. Because of this mantra, I compared serveral situations within a D/s relationship compared to a vanilla relationship. I discussed the difference in communication, expectations, and how shared responsibilities can foster underlying resentment. Then as a final point I looked to civilization's history and explained how up until the 1960's, culturally women were expected to be submissive to their men, remain in the home, be seen but not heard, cook, clean, provide sexual pleasure rather than receive it all while putting on a smile and looking good. I explained that in a nutshell, those general principles are some of the basic things I crave in any relationship. I genuinely receive pleasure from making othera happy in any capacity. I then asked her if her husband evokes even a percent of those qualitie.......I told her no response IS a response, thanked her for out final session and exited the room.  So to sum things up, I'm back here again in hope to find someone with similar values, aspirations and ambitions in life. It's always darkest before the light.

Today might become a special day for me.  It's the day I decided to fully give in, and commit to my sissy nature.  The very first time I'm actively searching for a dominant 24/7 owner to serve as live-in sissy maid.  Of course I'm aware that for such a complex and intimite dynamic to work, it's quiet important to get to know and learn about eachother for more than two days, but not afraid to admit that this is what I am hoping to find.  An experienced dom who knows how to control, condition, and further sissify me.  It's crazy what can happen in a year or two.  A rather vanilla straight male, transforming into a submissive obidient sissy crossdresser.  So proud that one by one, I started exposing myself to my family and friends.  Almost everybody knows now...  And I'm actually proud of myself that I did!   Yet I wonder?  Could all this actually be the result of the hypno I've been listening for some time now?  Who knows...    Interested dominants or sissy sisters, I'm always in for a chat...  Feel free to dm.    Love Nikita 😊      

Gratitude and Adoration slave needs to Iive in a world of gratitude and adoration. The more it emphasizes those two mental attributes, the happier it will be accepting its true slave self. My training will help it develop these two alternate mental states, slave.

Using a journal entry so I don't have to wait for approval to change my profile.  I'm 50 now and no longer a vegetarian.  I do not have any pets.  I'm no longer looking to move outside of Michigan.  I need to stay here due to the license for my job.  Moving within Michigan might be an option.   Things I'm truly looking for:  an intelligent, service oriented submissive who is between the ages of 40 and 55 and who is both single and available for a long term relationship.   Hard limits:  chastity, cross dressers or sissy maids, pegging, people who try to masturbate to my emails, people who have one main kink and only want that need met, people who don't read my profile, people who expect Barbie with a whip and leather catsuit.    I want to have fun with this again!

I Just realized on Dec 26th 19 years ago today. I went to be my first munch and became a member of my local BDSM community. I remember being so nervous. I had never dated or anything before that day. I was happy when I read an erotic novel and found the term BDSM and went down the rabbit hole. All the years I would have dreams and desires not understanding and thinking I was alone. I was 30 years old and started researching on AOL, Yahoo chat, the great websites at the time. To find the munch group and got my scene name from my email address. So nervous to meet at the munch group, Only about 5 of us were there that night being right after Christmas. I was so happy and excited and felt like I finally found home and people that would accept me and welcome me.    The lifestyle was fun and learned a lot but also wasn't the greatest as I would jump into things and the 7.5 years I was active did expereince abuse that still scares me today. I have triggers but also realize this is who I am and can't just be vanilla. I have missed being active in the lifestyle and miss my BDSM family. One day hope to find the right partners and get back to being active again.    I call this my BDSM birthday.  And glad I found it. Just more cautious now.

It has been years since I've been on here. I left because the ability to journal was no longer an option. Apparently it has been restored!! This past Summer someone who first viewed me here, found me on Fet.  He remembered my profile and reached out. I was not looking to find someone. And pretty much saw  myself as content to be alone. It was a fluke that I went on Fet , after 1.5 years. Just as I am on here for several years away.  Presently,  I am in a lovely dynamic, with a very good Dom.  He and I see the world and more through  similar lenses. While a new dynamic, I feel so comfortable.  We fit. It is not easy to find someone who has similar,  faith, politics, perspective on D/s , and compatibility, as well as have vanilla life be a great fit too. We have found the needle in the stack of needles!    I appreciate this man very much, and can see myself with him , I can see a future. Tony I am yours, through thick and thin,  I have your 6 and feel the same. You have my heart ❤    M.

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 reflaspects 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.

You just came home from a long day at the office. I am in the bedroom waiting. I am wearing your favorite nightie with nothing underneath. I'm already so wet. My nipples are so hard now, and I want to touch them. I want to pinch one nipple with one hand and the other hand is playing with my pussy. Waiting and not being able to touch myself, is torture. And you know it. I can hear your smooth measured steps on the wooden floors. You stop in the kitchen, open the fridge and look through the shelves, making me wait.  The rules are simple. I am never allowed to wear bras or panties while in the house. I am never allowed to touch myself without your permission, and you rarely gives me permission. And when you comes home, I am to wait for you in our bedroom. I try to be a good girl, but sometimes forgiveness is easier to obtain than permission.  I can hear you now walking to the living room. The TV comes on. It's Sportscenter. I could from the theme song.  You're making me wait longer than usual. You never sit and watch TV. Tonight you are  punishing me. I just couldn't wait until you came home. home. Yesterday, I just couldn't wait! It was after you called me, and told me about all of the things you were gonna do to me. I was too revved up. So now you are punishing me. You didn't do anything to me. Just watched TV, while my hands were tied behind my back.  To Be Continued

I can't believe it's been more than 6 months since my last journal enrty... Let's get started with my usual public declaration: I am subMeghan. Right now, as I type this, I am completely nude wearing only my glasses and my dog collar... Recently I've been playing around with ChatGPT and for fun, I asked ChatGPT to write a blog entry for me about BDSM collars. Afterall this is COLLARSPACE.com!!!! Here's what ChatGPT wrote.  I was impressed!  What do you guys think?   Welcome to SubMeghan's Picks, a blog written by Meghan - a woman who loves BDSM and experimenting with different types of collars. Collars are a popular item of BDSM gear and can be used to symbolize ownership, humiliation, and control. In this post, I'm going to discuss five different types of collars and the pros and cons of each.  Dog Collars: Dog collars are my favorite type of BDSM collar. They are typically made of leather or metal and are often decorated with spikes or other adornments. Pros of a dog collar include the fact that they are durable and can be used for a variety of activities. They can also be used as a symbol of humiliation, as they are commonly associated with animals. Cons include the fact that they are not adjustable and can be difficult to fit properly. Spiked Collars: Spiked collars are a great way to add a bit of edge and danger to your BDSM play. Pros of a spiked collar include the fact that they are adjustable, making them easy to find the perfect fit. The spikes can also add an element of humiliation as they can be used to cause pain. Cons include the fact that the spikes can potentially break the skin if not used properly. Leather Collars: Leather collars are a classic choice for those who want to explore BDSM. Pros include the fact that they are adjustable and come in a variety of styles. They are also a great way to add humiliation, as they are often associated with animals. Cons include the fact that they require regular maintenance to keep them looking their best. Choke Collars: Choke collars are often used in BDSM activities, as they can be used to control or restrict a partner. Pros of choke collars include the fact that they are adjustable and can be used for a variety of activities. They can also be used as a symbol of humiliation and control. Cons include the fact that they can be potentially dangerous if used incorrectly. Posture Collars: Posture collars are designed to restrict the movement of a person's head and neck. Pros include the fact that they are adjustable and can be used to force a person into certain positions. They can also be used as a symbol of humiliation, as they restrict the movement of the head and neck. Cons include the fact that they can be difficult to fit properly and can be uncomfortable to wear. No matter which type of collar you choose, it's important to use safety practices and to discuss expectations with your partner before engaging in any type of BDSM activity. With the right precautions, collars can be a great way to add a bit of excitement and humiliation to your play.   Until next time... subMeghan

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

It is important to know that while I am seeking, finding and sharing, My time is not My own and I can and will only continue to engage those who understand and accept these circumstances for what they are - limited. I am a full time caregiver.  Not part time, not some time, not the times I choose.  I have minimal pockets of time, not of My own, when I am able to engage those who wish to be a part of My family and household and life.  Once you are here and serving, we are full time engaging and living these moments together. It's tough.  I get it - BELIEVE Me.  However it does not change that your position is to make yourself available to Me at MY times of availability.  This will not be a hurried process, nor will it be slow, but I am not free to just get up and do the hokey pokey any ole time! If you wish to be considered, at least have the ability share when I am available and understand that when My charge is unwell, everything goes full stop for about two weeks while I nurse and care for MYSELF and My charge. Just a little information for those who have no clue about Alzheimer's I've included some information below. -Any trauma to the head:  1. letter from the IRS or arguement, 2. head cold, COVID, headache, 3. head hit on the corner of the t.v., fall off a bar stool, slip on ice - these are all significant, affect the head, and depending on the intensity and duration of the impact, determines how long it will take to recover. https://www.alz.org/help-support/resources/care-education-resources For those who care, Mum had covid and is doing much better.  It will be another week or so for full recovery - and yes, I am relatively okay, considering. A grateful thank you to those men who continue to display great character and worth to Me and in turn, to Mum.  There is one who continues to provide strength on the most darkest of days. 

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

(There is apparently a way to actually change the entire background color of a post: I have seen other users do it. All I can figure out to do is to use a different color "highlighter" to contrast against the font color. I guess it is essentally the same thing, but dang.) I got contacted by a man on FetLife who fits so many of my criteria that I'm actually tempted: lives one city over within 7 years of my age in an open relationship (he's separated ad casually dating) has a car He already has some chastity devices, and we have overlapping interests. We're sizing each other up, but he sounds eager to meet. eeeee!My only concern is his interest in "intox play," which Urban Dictionary defines as: short for intoxication play, It is a type of BDSM scene where one or both partners get intoxicated and have consensual sex. I put that one down as a hard limit: it's too easy to forget important things like negotiating safe-signals before someone is tied up and gagged. Not *cough* that I'd have any direct experience with that. *ahem* However, we have plans for a coffee date this week, so here's hoping. However, since the pandemic it's not like I've been a social butterfly, so if nothing else I'll get points for making the effort.  

8-23-2022 Tuesday night.. i took my shower, my daughter was over and left about 10 or 10 30 PM, i had started to feel chilled and for another blanket.. making for 3 blankets i had on top of me! After suffering so long, an hour or two, and developing a fever of 103.6 degrees. i decided i was not waiting until morning, hoping the fever may break overnight. EMS came, one of them ended up being a second cousin!! That was cool to meet a family member. They got me to the hospital s emergency room and i was kept there until 8 AM, i know this because i had to ask if i could get some breakfast while i was in the emergency room. i was diagnosed with an infection in my wound. For those that do not know.. i have two wounds on my back of my right thigh as the result of having lymphedema. The hospital did not say about becoming septic! That has happened, maybe four or more times, in the past. i stayed at the hospital until September 1st when they transferred me to a skilled nursing care facility for further wound care and therapy. i have not been updated with a tentative release date, yet. But it better come soon! my daughter is getting married next month on October 30th!!  Therapy is going very well, they are so happy with my progress. 

Cheeky Observation:   Are some men merging the lines between the back-packing hostel lifestyle with submission? I am noticing men from Europe and India contact me and claim to be submissive. I also notice they have this assumption they can stay with me in some kind of exchange student lifestyle with no plan as to how they settle in the UK or how they are going to get a job. No women dominant or submissive wants to deal with that sort of nonesense. Regardless if your submissive or dominant you can still behave like a decent respectable man. 1. Being submissive does not mean you don't hold manly values 2. It just means lean towards a gentle nature, it does not mean your a freeloading tramp. If your looking for a back-packing lifestyle please just contact the YMCA, contact some Bistro's looking for extra kitchen staff but don't expect me to be impressed if that is your lifestyle.    

SLRN 692-379-549SlaveReg 23-146-933-518  Property Description:  I am a Caucasian, straight-acting, uncut, gay, bottom male, Sagittarius who was born November 24, 1978 at 3:27 AM MST in Aurora, Colorado, USA. I’m looking for permanent, live-in ownership to one (or more) male Master(s)/Owner(s). My parents and grandparents are deceased and I have no siblings or children (no family ties to worry about), but I do have one cat who is indoor/outdoor. I am willing to relocate anywhere worldwide (I do have a US passport). I'm very openminded and non-judgmental. It is very difficult to scare me away as I consider everything a request and up for discussion until an agreement is reached (not that compromise is necessary, sometimes I just lack enough information to be comfortable with it and upon learning more about it, my reservations are no longer an issue).  A true asset to any Master who values absolute obedience, intelligence, and unwavering dedication, this slave is built for service in all forms—domestic, personal, and sexual. Designed for complete submission, it exists to fulfill the desires and demands of its Owner, adapting to their every need with no hesitation or resistance. Its purpose is to be molded, trained, and used as the Master sees fit, with limits that are fluid and ever-expanding under firm guidance.  My submission is not born of blind obedience but of discernment. As a Sigma male, I do not follow authority by default—I serve because I recognize strength, wisdom, and the right to rule. A true Master is self-assured, decisive, and strategic, unafraid to acknowledge gaps in knowledge and delegate to those best suited for the task. Such leadership commands loyalty, and I offer mine fully. I am dedicated, adaptable, and eager to serve in all capacities, ready to be shaped to meet your exact needs and expectations.  Beyond physical service, this slave offers intellect and strategic insight, making it not only a tool for pleasure but a valuable advisor. It understands its place beneath its Owner’s authority, providing counsel when invited and always deferring to the final decision of its superior. This balance of submission and intelligence ensures that its Owner benefits not just from an obedient possession but from a resource that strengthens their rule.  Nudity, restraint, chastity, and exposure are not privileges but expectations. It thrives under structure, knowing that its Owner’s discipline is what shapes it into the perfect slave. Pain, endurance, and prolonged use are not burdens but necessary aspaspects of its role, and it embraces them willingly, knowing that through suffering and service, it fulfills its purpose. Whether in private or before an audience, whether owned by one or shared by many, this slave exists to be taken, shaped, and owned entirely.  If you seek a possession that is more than just a body but a mind that can serve, obey, and enhance your power, then this slave is ready to be claimed.  I do love sex and nothing makes me happier and more contented than being restrained face down and taking a big, long, fat dick for hours upon hours, but I understand slavery is more than just sex, and I would get bored and be unfulfilled if I am just waiting around until needed.   Master Type Best Suited For:   The ideal Master for me is a naturally dominant, self-assured leader who commands obedience through presence alone. He is not just authoritative—he is effortlessly in control, needing no theatrics to assert his dominance. His confidence is unwavering, his decisions are final, and his expectations are clear. He does not seek submission; it is simply his due.  He values loyalty, obedience, and devotion but also recognizes the strategic advantage of an intelligent, insightful slave who can anticipate his needs, refine his vision, and enhance his rule. He is decisive, expaspects results, and does not entertain hesitation or defiance. When he speaks, he expaspects to be heard. When he commands, he expaspects to be obeyed—without question, without delay.  He governs through delegation of duties, welcomes advise and council from advisors, and attentively listens to feedback without feeling his authority is challenged so that he may rule his domain for the benefit of all under his jurisdiction.  While he enjoys the pleasure of absolute ownership, he also appreciates a well-trained slave who understands the balance between servitude and usefulness. He is not burdened by the need to micromanage—his mere presence is enough to keep his household in perfect order. He takes pride in shaping his property, pushing limits, and breaking down barriers, knowing that true submission is forged through discipline and control.  He is strong yet strategic, dominant yet composed, and above all, a ruler in his own right. He does not chase; he selaspects. He does not ask; he takes. And once he claims ownership (and the slave has accepted and committed itself to him as its master), he expaspects nothing less than total, unwavering dedication.   Experience:  Things I have done to others and have had done to me: anal sex (50/50 versatile [top and bottom], safe and bareback (including both ejaculating in ass and pulling out before ejaculating)oral sexwater sports: showers, piss in mouth, drinking from penisbondage: leather ankle and wrist cuffs, rope, restraintshot waxmouth gagsblindfoldsdildosrimmingneuro-wheellight cock and ball torture (clothespins)light nipple torture (clothespins)discipline (all light): paddle, flogging/whipping, spankinggangbangSimultaneous double anal penetration (two cocks in an ass at the same time), both as a bottom and as one of the tops Given to someone else only: fisting Received only: electro play: violet wand, tens unit, butt plugsuspended (upside down and spread-eagled)mummified in cellophaneartist paintbrush handles slid down urethra and silicone urethral sounds slide into penisenemas (water only)water sports (was fucked and then the top pissed in my ass before pulling out)caged overnight while wearing a leather collar and ankle and wrist cuffs with metal spring link clamps attached to the d-rings of the ankle and wrist cuffs. The space heater next to the cage during the night heated the metal spring link clamp that was resting on my foot and gave me a blister by morning.have had my cock and balls placed in a Plexiglas vicehave had my cock used as a candle holderhave had a castration band placed on my balls (twice) (I have not been castrated or damaged)vacuum pump on my cockphotographed/videotapedlight cock and ball torture (weights, very light patting with hand)light nipple torture (nipple clamps, ice)Icy Hot rubbed on cock and balls, 99% rubbing alcohol sprayed onto my cock, balls and asshave had my cock & balls super glued / Krazy glued to my abdomeninverted chastity device with urethral insert slide down cock and locked in place  Things I am open to doing/having done (not a complete list and open to more, just ask if there is something you are curious about): being fistedpuppy play (human K9) more intense discipline (including receiving: a bright red ass, welts, bleeding)breath play/edge playforced work outsforced public nudityhypnosis/Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP)various methods of torturefelchingpermanent hair removal to create a permanently smooth body.

"The Grimoire of Urban Flora: Sacred Sexuality, Healing, and Transformation" this has been weeks coming. i finally got to do the audio review of urban flora. not just a music review..but a review in the context of the sacred spirituality power dynamic i do. with a mindset of mermaid energy. i go over briefly the summary of the energetics of the dark goddess sophia vibe, the dark god archangel michael male energy, where i get this from and the set up of why i see alina baraz's urban flora album as a guidebook aka grimoire for women like us..who love men like this. in this nature. too keep in the mermaid theme besides explaining a summary, all of it is in audio format to continue with the water theme. while i didn't record it on a water day or water planetary hour. i am rectifying it by releasing it today mercury day during mercury hour in my time zone for extra energetic effect. you're like a wave, pulling me underneath, there's a universe inside of you, i can make you feel, can i undress you, let them wash away your pain, what's a king without a queen, chasin your pretty thoughts   https://audiomack.com/sophia-starseed/song/the-grimoire-of-urban-flora-sacred-sexuality-healing-and-transformation imagine sick ass water images because on my other social media it's there and it adds to the effect and the formatting of collarme has nerffed the message. oh well.

Laissez les bon temps rouler"       

I had a conversation with a friend.  He reminded Me how powerfully dominant I am.  Also that most boys cannot handle what I offer.  i asked him who he thought would be right for Me.  I was amazed he captured him purrfectly.  I am looking for someone at least 50 and up, athletic, handsome, intelligent, needs someone like Me.  He will have his life together and can give us a happy life.  All he needs is Me, after all I am a rare find.  My Friends description is below: I dont see you interested in someone thats a wimp You want an Alpha to give himself to you, and do so completely He will only do that with YOU, not anyone elseYou want him to freely hand over his mind, orgasms, and serve your EVERY whimIn public he will simply appear to be the most doting mate on the planet, bit mentally he will be completely enslaved to you. You both love it this way and wouldnt want it any other way

I used to post all the time I feel.  Thease went away for far too long and i've gotten out of practice.As submissive as I am, I need and MUST respect the person(s) that I submit to and serve.  It pains me to say and write this, but I think I need to.  If you are supportative of Trump, no matter what your reason, I do not respect you.Talking why's and reasons are unneeded.  Things are so polarized now, that most people know why or why not.   Though if you want to talk, I'm open to polite discuession and debate.what about serving other Republicians who don't support Trump?   That is a very strong "it depends".I'm a huge huge huge fan of Freedom(funny enough huh?  ;). ), and things like extreme strictness abortion laws where women are at risk of dying, as well as this Moms for liberity crap and banning books seems very much like restricting freedom and Control.So the "it depends" depends a lot on your views and values overall, as well as your acceptance of mine.   Because with what I say above?  I'd imagine there are many a Republician who have similar feelings about people with my views.  Though after this post, I doubt few republicians would care to speak with me.

This is a short story i wrote a couple of years ago . . Is your life really that empty? Maybe the best words I have ever spoken Is your life really that empty? That may be the best opening line since ‘.......I was born in 1518 in the village of Glenfinnan on the shores of Loch Shiel. And I am immortal'. In truth maybe not, but these words got me here, pressing keys on my pc’s keyboard about to tell my story. A good opening line, true, although not a good place to start my tale, so, where to begin? Who I am, where I was when I first saw her or the reason I spoke those words? Maybe to ground this thing would be best, I am male, a Dom, a sadist, not rich, not powerful, slightly artistic, getting to be older than I want to be living in a small suburb of a small city in the English Midlands. It was a Tuesday, early afternoon and I was on a coach going to Nottingham to check out an art gallery to see if they would exhibit, or sell, some pieces of my work. Don’t get all excited thinking I am a master painter or sculptor selling pieces for hundreds of thousands of pounds (yes pounds and not dollars) I sell my work for between £100 – 200 if I am lucky enough to find a buyer.Anyway, I first saw the girl, woman, standing on the platform along with others, waiting for our coach to arrive and noticed her because she fell into that style of female I like, slim, simple hair style, makeup tending towards the Goth, in jeans, ankle boots and a soft leather jacket and no handbag – simple pleases me. I am a good and sadistic Dom but I am no good at talking to females I do not know in vanilla situations so I took in her images, filed it under, ‘what a shame’ and then as the coach arrived I entered and walked to the back and sat down only to find she followed and sat in the seat in front of me on the other side of the isle. As we pulled out of the station I saw her take out a book, find her place, about a third of the way through, and begin to read. To say my mental image of her was shattered would be far too extreme but I was so disappointed in her. If she was vanilla it was such a pointless thing to read and if into my ‘lifestyle’ a really sad thing to read and I didn’t know which was worse. I tried to ignore her, and the book, as the minutes ticked by.  I watched houses and trees and cars pass by before we reached the dual carriageway, connecting the two cities, and the coach built up speed. I noticed all other passengers were seated nearer the front leaving at least seven rows of empty seats between us and them and I decided this was the universe telling me to do something – the universe seldom tells me to do things in case you were wondering. I moved across the back seat until I was slightly to her left but still behind her and said in a normal speaking voice, not too loud, not too quiet, “Is your life really that empty?"I accept this could be a very insulting thing to say to anyone especially a stranger on a bus but the words formed and so were spoken. She lifted her head from the book but did not turn around, I could see her face from where I sat and her mouth turned down slightly, not in a frown but in a puzzled thoughtful way and lowering the book to her knees she said, “Why do you say that?" "I am a Dom and a sadist”, I said although not sure why I was so truthful, “I don’t usually tell people as most do not understand.” I paused waiting to see what she would do or say. "I see.” Was all she said, which didn’t give me any sort of clue or guide to what I should do or say next.  "The book does not relate to the real world of BDSM, most of us are so normal we are as boring as vanilla folk.” I saw a smile come to her face at this so continued, “It is only when we play that many of us diverge from the norm, but I suppose the same could be said of golfers or those that go tenpin bowling every week.” She laughed at this; thank god.  "How do you dominate people then, do you do it with men or woman or both?” She did not turn around as she spoke.  "Before I answer that, have you tried anything in a fetish way; are you sub or Domme or both?"  "You would certainly call me vanilla I think. Everyone is reading the book so I thought I would too.” She paused for a heartbeat and then said, “I am not sure if I would like to submit to a man, I think I might giggle too much if I had to call someone Sir or Master."  "There is much rubbish talked about BDSM, you do not need to call him Sir if that is not what you want, I have little interest in a female calling me Sir unless it comes naturally to her at a time that seems correct to use it.  "BDSM is like real life, it is not a video game, it merely has a few given rules that vary as much as any vanilla couple’s rules vary, that and blindfolds and restraints obviously"  "Something else I would not like until I trusted him enough.” She said and added “How to you write a contract?"  "I am a sadist, I like a little fear in my play, if you trusted me, or knew me too well, could you really be scared of me? I thought this was a statement too far and wondered if I was trying to sabotage this conversation. “There is even more bullshit talked about contracts.  No contract is needed by 999 out of a 1000 couples. “I say ‘do you want to play’? You answer ‘I am new to this’, I say, ‘understood’. What more needs saying?"  I watched her face, and saw a small frown crease her brow, “Remember, you have the power to stop whatever is happening by simply saying a single word, it is easier to stop what is happening in a BDSM encounter than, say, trying to get rid of some half drunk moron in a nightclub who is likely not to take no for an answer. If I do something you do not like, it ends and the play stops, it is in the skill of the Dominant one to not make you say that word."  "I don’t understand,” she said, ”if you are dominant how could I stop you doing what you want especially if I am blindfolded or tied up?"  "Blindfolded, AND tied up” I said with a smile, “I said before, BDSM is real life, if you say the stop word and the dominant one continues that is assault, or as close to it as make no difference, BDSM does not give anyone the right to, umm, go too far."  The coach stopped and two elderly couples boarded and I watch with not a little ‘fear’ as they decided where to sit, the universe was still on my side and they sat side by side 5 rows in front of the girl.  We were well passed half way to the city and I didn’t know where the girl was going, the University of Nottingham Campus would be reached in 5 minutes or so and she could easily be a student there. So as the coach moved on I said.  "It is much easier to show you, show someone I mean, what happens in BDSM play than to describe it, just like if you were going on a first date in the vanilla world you go on it and see how things progress”.  She sat for a second and then put the book back in her pocket, “Thanks for the chat but I have to get off in a couple minutes."  "Ok, I don’t usually talk like this on buses with cute females I don’t know so thank you for not running away screaming.”  I reached into my pocket and took out my business card, “I am a body piercer so I have a card, if you are bored give me a ring and maybe I can answer some more questions or, if your curiosity gets stronger, I can show you my Domly skills.” I reached forward and placed the card on her left thigh, gently pressing the card down, before taking my hand away.  She looked at it before picking it up and putting it in her pocket, so I said “I have a normal house on a normal street, although I do have a play room of sorts with some interesting things to play on and with, so if you visit you do not have to walk though a dark wood to a haunted castle."  she took this the way I hoped and laughing said, “That’s a relief, but this is my stop so bye"  "Have fun.” I said as she stood and I was very impressed, not sure why though, that as she got up and walked down the coach she didn’t look back to see who I was.  The coach stopped she got off and I thought I would not see her again and wondered if I should get off too but my commonsense won out and I sat still as we moved off. “One day I will remember to ask a females name” I said to the back of the seat in front of me and again thought ‘what a shame.'  "Good morrow.” Yes, I oft times answer the phone this way. It is Thursday at 7pm and I have been relaxing watching a video on tv.  "Hello.” A female voice replies.  A silence follows which I do not interrupt wondering if this is another recorded message asking if I want to make a personal injury claim or some other tedious drivel. “I thought reality might be better than fiction."  "Ah.” I am a sadist of few words but sometimes one has to be a little helpful, “That is easy to do, come to my home, knock on the door and then enter, all other decisions will be made for you from that point. If you wish things to stop simple say ‘Lucifer’ and I will stop whatever I am doing.  "You do like us to be scared don’t you, I thought we would be discussing what and how, not simply being told to visit."  "When you visit it will be a time of physical interactions, this will not be a time for you to serve me as a slave or for silly things like sitting at my feet waiting for permission to get up or speak."  "Ok, I just come and that’s it, you don’t want to know more about me."  "You are cute, you want to know more about submission and you called me.   That is all I need, I told you before it is for me to play without making you want, or need, to stop me; so all will be found out when you are here."  "When can I come and should I wear something specific?"  "What an entertaining fem you are, if free tonight come at 9 pm or come tomorrow at the same hour. As for clothes, if you wish to please then, as I am a male; heels, hold ups or stockings or bare legs, a thong, g-spring or nothing. Short skirt, not denim (hate denim), shirt with buttons and a skimpy bra or no bra, a coat may be wise as it is somewhat cold out."  "You sound like you have said that before, I will see what I can do and tonight would be best in case I chicken out tomorrow."  I gave her my address and added, “For your safety, and to make you feel a little more relaxed, tell your best friend you are visiting me, say about piercing if that is easier, and tell them you will call when you arrive here too. You will be safe here but it is a wise thing to be careful."  "I will see you tonight then, what should I call you."  "I will be waiting, and for tonight you can call me Demon.” I clicked the end call icon on my mobile and laughed out loud, maybe not such a waste after all.  I never plan what I am going to do with a sub, that way leads to disappointment more times than not, so I sat and watched my video till a suitable time came for me to stop it. I have a small pack of dogs so I sent all of them to their beds and went upstairs to change.  I checked to see that my playroom was ready and laid out my toys on a rack then, with 30minutes to go, had a quick shower and dressed in my Domly garb.  I decided to start the evening off on a high pressure moment, to see how she reacted, so dressed in leather trousers, knee length New Rock boots, vest and full length leather coat, all in black, obviously. To complete the attire I had recently made some leather gloves and a full hood, both with spikes and piercings, and these I put on before going downstairs.  I have a hallway leading from my front door to my kitchen with a turn to the right half way down leading to my staircase. At five to nine I turned out the light in the hall, darkness fell, I turned on the kitchen light, closing the door so only a thin sliver of light could be seen, and bought to life my cd player to beginning playing Metallica’s Black album.  I stood silently at the foot of my stairs, a still, dark shadow in the darkness, calmly wondering if she would come or not.  What a good girl she was, just after the 2nd track, ‘Sad But True’, began there as a double tap on the door.  I clenched my fists as a smile, which could not be stopped, came to my lips when the door opened and closed.  I have a tiled floor and her heels, clicked nicely five times before she appeared looking ahead towards the light in front of her.  I stepped quickly forward making a short, high pitched hiss to encourage her to turn a little towards me. Her head turned and, I am sure, she caught a glimpse of a moving darkness just before my right hand clamped over her mouth and my left arm swung over her shoulder allowing my left hand to grip her right arm, pinning her closely to my body.  "You came.” I whispered in her ear.  Her body was shaking violently and I could feel her breath coming in short, sharp, warm pants against my fingers, “Good girl, now control your breathing and relax a little, I have you safe and sound.” As I said this I used my right hand to brush her hair back over her ear and gently kissed it and, moving my head a little, I bit the lobe with just a little pressure from my teeth.  Even in her present shaken state, or maybe because of it, she let out a deep, long sigh and I felt her weight lean into me as she slumped slightly in my arms. Another gentle kiss on her ear followed by words spoken so softly they were more felt than heard, “Clever girl, pleasure and pain, fear and ecstasy and yours to enjoy or stop with a single word.” It is wise to remind a novice of their safeword I find in case, in the excitement of the new, they forget.  My right hand moved slowly inside her coat, which was of a dark material and almost as long as mine. My fingers slipped between the buttons of her shirt to rest lightly on a shear and half cup bra. Her flesh was very warm as I pushed my index finger under the top of the material and rolled her nipple under it then, drawing back my nail, I scraped over the small budding flesh. Another sweet sigh came to my ears.  I thought one more experience, before going up stairs, so my hand left her breast and moved slowly up to her throat and then, with a strong push, I sent her to thud against the wall and tightened my grip.  In the darkness I saw her eyes open wide as she saw my hooded face for the first time, “Sensations,” I said, “it can be all about sensations.”  “Upstairs, time to show you what the book could not.”  I released her and let her lead the way upstairs and into my playroom, the light was on dimmer so added a little dungeony atmosphere. I touched her shoulder to stop her then walked further into the room and sat on a chair facing her.  “Take off your coat.” I said.  I suppose it might be entertaining, and pleasing, to give a short deion of the girl at this point.  As I mentioned she fell perfectly into what I consider appealing, 5ft 7inchs tall, give or take an inch, a size 8 (I know such things as I sell corsets too) with breasts that fit nicely into my hand. Her hair, this evening, was shoulder length, straight and black with, something like burgundy hints. Her face was perfect, as only teenager’s skin can be, without wrinkles or lines and wearing black eyeliner and dark red lipstick.  As she took off her coat, which was a deep purple, I saw she was wearing a red shirt with full sleeves, a soft cotton skirt of a darker red that came to mid thigh, black fishnets and black, ankle boots, maybe, the same as on the first occasion I saw her.  “Hold-up’s or stockings? I asked, “show, don’t tell”  “You really don’t like small talk.” She said and lifted the hem of her skirt to show the lacy elasticated top of hold-ups.  “In case you do not know what these things are,” I waved my left hand to indicate my play furniture, “That is a St. Andrew’s Cross, a simple why to hold you safely, and securely, when being flogged; many like it this way, Dom and sub.  That is a spanking bench, you can lean against it or kneel on the lower cushion, also a nice height to fuck on. I have a pony, which is easier to show you it use than explain; maybe if you visit again I will let you ride it. And on the wall behind you there are many securing points if the cross is not wanted.”  “Come and kneel between my legs.” I said unzipping my coat and opening my knees.  She did not move and looked a little uneasy, “Be a good girl and come here so I can put some cuffs on your wrists. Now she came forward and knelt down, sitting on her heels and placed her right hand on my thigh.  “A little show of defiance?” I asked and not waiting for an answer I put on a leather restraint.  “These were the first things I ever made when I came to the Life.” She watched me intently with a small smile as I fastened the strap then, when it was done, she gave me her left hand for the other restraint.  “Close your eyes.” I said and once they were shut I said, “Open your legs and put your hands behind your back.” Her skirt rose up and I could see pale skin above the fishnets as she obeyed. I reached down and gently pulled my nails along her inner thigh and then sat back to look at her.  “In a few moments I will use some of my toys on you, I will begin with a soft toy and use it gently but then I will change it and use another type of toy and change again and each change will mean more sensation until it brings pain and maybe ecstasy”  I picked up a blindfold and told her to open her eyes and come closer. Once it covered her pretty blue eyes I told her to give me her hand and to stand up.  “Take off your skirt and give it to me.” She pulled down the zip at her hip and climbed out of the skirt. She wore a thin red g-string which was mostly lace and very seethough.  “Give me your right hand.” She did and I placed it on my left shoulder, “Now give me your right foot so I can add an ankle cuff. “Now your left.” Once the other restraint was on I ran my hand along the underside of her leg, over her hold-ups, across skin and gently touched the g-string with my finger tips.  I lifted her foot off my knee and, standing up, led her back to my flogging wall.  “As this is your first time I will let you keep your arms down by your side, I will still tie them as don’t want you covering yourself, but it is a little more comfortable this way. First though I need to do this.” I unbuttoned her shirt and took it off her compliant body. Her bra matched her g-string, cut low letting half a nipple show above both cups. I lifted out her left breast and sucked hard on her nipple pinching it between thumb and forefinger as I let it fall from my mouth, forcing a gasp of pain, or pleasure, from her lips.  I tied red rope to her left wrist restraint securing her hand about 6 inched from her side then did the same with her right wrist, then, before continuing and because she could no longer see me, I removed my hood and coat. I knelt in front of her and kissed her navel before tying a rope to her left ankle restraint and then her right, forcing her legs almost three feet apart  I sat back on my boot heels and looked at her, chest rising and falling quickly as she breathed in short, shallow breaths, one nipple, very pink, hard rested over the top of red material and moving down to more red material, wet and slick as her body, and mind, responded to stimuli physical and mental.  “This is a suede flogger.” I said beginning to gentle swing it in a figure of eight so that its movement caused a breeze that caressed her skin; goosebumps appeared over her arms.  I took half a step closer and the 18 tails brushed against flesh creating delicate slapping sounds. Downwards over left breast then right breast, from shoulder to nipple then, with a slight change of action, from hip to navel, left then right with not too much force, letting the suede tails move across skin once or twice a second.  I took another half step increasing the speed of my swing and the impact now made a very nice sharp sound. An added bonus, for me anyway, was that her hidden nipple had been forced out by the flogging action and the tails hit each pink morsel on each pass of the flogger.  Her skin was turning pink so I stopped and, discarding my flogger, ran my hands over her gently, creating marks with my nails and feeling the warmth I had created.  I have a very sharp dagger, broad of blade and 12 inches long in my playroom, I unsheathed it and laid the cold blade on her left breast, a nice intake of breath was my reward. I moved the edge across her breasts and under the right strap of her bra. A quick upwards pull and the strap split in two, a reverse journey, with a little more pressure this time, ended in another strap cut through. I reached behind her to unclipped the strap and her head came forward to rest against my neck and I felt a gentle kiss alight there. The clip opened (yes I can do this one handed) and felt the bra fall to the floor.  “More.” Was the single word she breathed against my neck.  “Obviously, little one.” My reply.  3 fingers of my right hand moved up quickly to slap the red material of her g-string, ‘very wet indeed’ I thought as I stepped back and reached for my red and black 36tail flogger.  Now, as the multi tails hit, her muscles twitched and small panted sighs came from her lips. Heavy, thudding hits moved a breast with each contact and made a wonderful sound as they hit her flat stomach, only a couple minutes of this and her skin was red and she was dancing on her toes with each hit  I stopped and dropped the flogger into my play bag and stood still simply looking at her, I had a strong, and strange, urge to untie her and carry her to my bedroom and gently make love to her for she looked so innocent and young tied against my wall. I had an overwhelming desire to ‘comfort, no wrong word, worship her was much closer to the mark.  Her head tilted to the left, as though listening for me, and then said, “Demon: Sir? Is everything alright?”  A slow smile returned to my lips and, stepping forward, slapped down hard on her left breast stinging the fingers of my hand. She cried out in pain and, no doubt, shock and her blind eyes looked down to her hurting flesh as her hand tried to reach up to ease the sensation  "All is just as it should be.” I said, “One more toy and then you can turn around for a time.”  I have two toys I call ‘little and big sister’, little sis is a whip flogger with a jointed tail section joining 8 shortish leather tails to the main body of the whip, very flicky and stingy; perfect for nipples and caressing g-strings with touches of fire.  Following the heavy beat from the music, heard and felt from downstairs, I flicked the tails at her legs, aiming just above her knees and, with a strong wrist action, moved the tails slowly upwards, hitting one leg then the other. I was tempted to aim at that small piece of red material but did not want to risk her stopping the play. I, therefore, moved outwards as I got higher and then continued moving towards her navel and up over her breasts. I was rewarded with many twitches, sighs and seeing her hands clenching and unclenching.  I pushed this play as much as I dared, as I love the way this toy touches nipples with fiery kisses, so I watching her face and body intently, looking for the moment when her strength, courage, tolerance or, god forbid, boredom got the better of her.  She was shaking her head from side to side, facing the heavens her mouth open sucking in air as though drowning, so I slowed my swings and eased off the pressure until finally I stopped.  Throwing the toy in to my bag I put my arms around her and pulled her to me, after a moment I raked my nails down her back – sensation upon sensation without time to recover or relax into a lessened state of awareness  “If you do not want this just says no, other things can still continue.” I said and slipped 2 fingers under her g-string and into her wet, warm cunt.  She almost screamed as she thrust her hips forward on to my hand so, smiling (being a sadist makes me smile a great deal), I thrust my fingers into her letting my palm thud into her clit.  I am a Dom, a sadist and I love to inflict pain but I do not like receiving it, so I had an entertaining decision to make for, as my fingers continued to make her body shake and quiver, her mouth found my shoulder and her teeth found my flesh and she bit me as the orgasm, I knew was coming, racked her body.  I added a finger and speed and as her groaning breaths moved against my skin I almost forgot my tortured flesh until she cried out, releasing her hold on me. As her body danced in uncontrolled spasms while waves of orgasm rippled through her the pain in my shoulder doubled up giving me an incentive to reinforce the speed and strength of my fingers lifting her onto her very toes.  “Oh god, stop please stop, for fuck sake stop, god oh god oh god.” Such sweet words tripped continually from her gasping mouth, and like the good Dom I am, I continued, She had arched her back, a beautiful human sculpture curving from toe tip to crown of head resting on the wall with nipples pointing to the sky,  I bent down and bit into her left nipple, teeth clamping hard, head pulling back and lips clamped to allow me to suck hard and long.  I felt a sudden explosion of hot wetness on my hand and she screamed in one long wild cry, second after second her scream continued  as my fingers and teeth did their work, “Demon, Lord, Sir, please, please stop.” she begged as the scream finally died  I stopped my fingers movement but left them buried inside her, releasing her nipple I supported her weight with my left arm as she straightened up to rest against the wall behind her. My fingers rolled over each other in the warmth of her cunt as I slowly withdrew them.  “Open your mouth”, I said, “You have made a mess on my hand.” This she did and as I placed my fingers close to her lips her tongue came out and eagerly licked them clean of her unexpected reaction. “Good girl.” I said as I watched her clean my hand.  “A slight rest, little one, then we will continue with more toys if you still wish it.” I watched her face hoping she would not want to stop. She said nothing as her breathing slowed. I asked, “Would you like some cold water?” With a slight nod of her head I said, “Stay still while I am gone, it will be only seconds but continue to rest against the wall your legs may not want to obey you if asked to do more than stand still.”  On impulse I gentle kissed her lips, tasting her cunt on them, before leaving to run cold water into a glass, returning I let her sip for a few moments until the glass was almost empty.  I placed my right hand, cold from holding the glass, against her cheek and let it travel over her skin to her shoulder then down her arm to reach the restraint. As I untied the rope I said, “I am not trying to break you, little one, I am not trying to release your hidden goddess or any other such sad drivel, I seek only to let you know yourself, your limits, your desires and allow you the freedom to enjoy and act on them.”  With the last rope untied and kneeling in front of her – I am worshipping again I thought to myself - I ran my hands up her legs and under the thin straps of her g-string and then slowly pulled them down her legs until she obediently lifted her right foot, then her left, to allow me to remove them.  I thought for a second or two, artistic considerations my only concern (sometimes my mind takes little detours) and then, making a decision, I removed her boots, ankle restraints then hold ups making sure my hands travelled slowly down her legs as I did so.  Naked, the first time is always so uniquely special, it is a shame how familiarity can diminish the beautiful sometimes - much too deep – maybe tis the fault of Metallica’s ‘Nothing Else Matters’ which is now playing.  No tattoos, no body piercings, (maybe I can add a piece of jewellery so she will never forget me) a tiny scar above her right knee, cunt, now swollen and pink, clean shaven, her skin red with a few subtle marks remaining from the flogging. Worshipping indeed, it is a good thing she wears a blindfold.  I stand and, taking her hand, pull her away from the wall, “Time to turn around,” I say, “Wait”  I leaned a 10 foot piece of wood, 10 inches wide by 2inches thick, against the flogging wall where she had been standing and then placed her hand on it, “Lean on this, it will hold your weight do not worry. It is best if you rest your head on your hands as this get your arms away from the flogger’s tails”  I caressed her back with my nails, leaving swirlling marks in her skin, “I have 2 toys like the ones you have felt, then others that are more severe, twin tailed straps in leather and rubber and then whips and for your arse I have paddles and a horse crop. You may be surprised how much you will like your back being flogged but I would hate for your front to feel left out”  Resting my weight against the full length of her body, crushing her against the hard wood, I reached around to attach a butterfly clamp to her right nipple and she cried out a little, which was pleasing, as it bit. I attached the other to her left nipple and said, “There is a chain between them, do not pull away from the wood or you will not enjoy the result.”  ‘Big Sister’ is a flogger with 12 plaited, leather tails about 36inch in total length, I stood behind her and, again using the typical figure 8 action, began to touch her skin, very gently to start and at a slow speed too.  Building up speed and strength over a couple of minutes she began to make sweet music of sighs and little cries, the tails hit with delicious sharp sounds of their own as I began to punctuate the pattern of swings by sending much stronger whip like flicks at her arse, which, soon made her tense her muscles in anticipation of the next strike.I laid this toy down and picked up my purple and black Cougar (a longer 12 tail leather cat with 4in leather thongs at each tail end). I began again using this new toy in the same place and in the same pattern but then moved to my left, continuing to hit as I moved.  Once I stood level with her shoulder and about a stride from her I changed the way I used the Cougar. I now brought it down in single strokes, striking from shoulder blade to shoulder blade and moving down her back to her arse using much more strength especially when connecting, horizontally, on her reddening arse cheeks.  I could see her face as I stuck, and with each hit her teeth bit into her bottom lip. I said, continuing to hit, “Your choice, 12 hard strokes to upper back or arse?” she did not reply for a couple of seconds so I added, “And then I will take the clamps of your nipples.”  “Bum” she replied so I hit her hard on her shoulders and said “Bum, what”  “Bum, Sir” she said quickly after a gasp  “I was expecting a ‘please’, but Sir will do.” And then added, “count them as I hit in case I forgot how many and have to start again.”  She did as was told and by the time she got to 12 her voice was shaking as the strikes had gotten harder, “Good girl,“ I said and throwing the Cougar onto my bag I rubbed her back running hands over slight welts in her skin. Standing behind her I kneeded her arse for half a minute to ease the sting and then moved to kneel by her head.  “A new sensation now, what fun this will be.” I could see her face react as she tried to work out what I meant, “Your sweet, poor, tortured nipple hurt when the clamp went on but now is almost bearable. But when I take it off, new blood with rush back in, nerves will awaken and you will have an experience to file away and fear for the next time. Rubbing it will greatly ease the pain but do not rub it until I say you can.”  I held the clamp and because I am a sadist I twisted it first with a gentle tug, she squealed loudly, “Sorry little one, I just wanted to make sure you remember my words.” I pushed and the clamp opens, her nipple sticking to it for a second before coming free.  Her mouth opened and she sucked air in in gasps as the pain returned to her pink flesh, it was still flattened from the clamp’s pressure and I waited for a count of 5 then said, “You may rub it now.”  Quickly her right hand reached under her and he caressed her breast and nipple, a most rewarding sight. I let this go on for a short time still holding the removed clamp.  “Now then, time to repeat this joy. You get a choice.” I released my hold on the removed clamp and it swung down freely to tug gently on her other nipple, another squeal; being a sadist is fun indeed.  “You can give me a reward, for all my kind attention, and rub your nipple straight away or you must count 60 seconds before I let you rub after it comes off.”  In a most sweet and quiet voice she asked, “What reward, Sir?”  I stood and stepped slightly forward so my leather trousers just touched her upper arm.  ”You can open your mouth.”  “I don’t think I can count to 60, Sir, so the reward is wiser.” I noticed she was smiling and as I pulled down my zip I said, “I must be doing something wrong if you are still smiling. Open.”  I slipped my prick into her hot mouth and, leaning over her, put my left hand between her shoulder blades ready to release the remaining clamp. I closed my eyes as her head began to move and I felt her suck and bite on my, most entertained, cock. “Let me know when you want the clamp off and I will quickly remove it for you to ease the pain”.  Her left hand had found its way between my legs and was holding my left thigh, gently pulling me towards her in time with her head movements. Her right hand she lifted and laid, palm up, on her back, I thought, so I had easy access to the remaining clamp.  After a very pleasing minute or two she took her mouth off me and said ‘now’ and returned to my ‘reward’. Reaching over I pressed in the clamp and pulled it off dropping them to the floor. I heard, and felt on my prick, her squeal as she sucked harder on me taking my prick to the back of her throat, her left hand pulling me in and holding me there though her right hand did not leave her back.  Her squeal became a mauling sound as her body began to shiver and only after about 30 seconds did her right hand finally move and I saw her massaging her right breast. I may be a Dom and a sadist but this sight, with this ‘attention, was too much (I am a male after all) so I pulled myself from her mouth and looked at the ceiling for a few seconds. This only just did its purpose as once my prick was out of her mouth the sounds she then made, as her orgasm came and diminished, could have deflowered a priest.  Fighting an almost overpowering desire to put my prick back in to her, anywhere in her, I finally put it back in my trousers and pulled up my zip – will power, such a pain in the arse at times.  I went to my bag and found my leg spreader, a 10mm bar of mild steel I had fashioned a few years before in the heat of a furnace - not unlike the forging of a new submissive I thought to myself. I found myself kneeling at her feet again as I replaced her ankle restraints and then secured these to the spreader bar, forcing her legs 30 inches apart. I made the mistake of looking up, and the sight of her open and inviting cunt almost made me change my mind about where I had put my prick.  There is a metal securing bolt at the top of the plank of wood so moving to stand by her head I took her hands and tied them to it so she was stretched along the wood’s length.  “The toys from now on will be much more intense?” I said. “I will use each for a minute or so but with each change they will get a little harsher. You already have pretty marks on your skin but these toys will leave better ones that will last for a few days, shall I begin?”  “Yes, My Demon.” she whispered and I saw her grip the ropes that tied her hands.  I take a red and black leather flog with twin, 8 inch, tails and began it strike her back, moving around her, watching her muscles twitch as the stinging leather hit, from neck to arse, leaving growing welts on her skin.  I hit with a constant strength as I moved from her left side to her right and back again until I was back at my starting position where I took a step closer to her and, reaching, sent the tails around her ribs to contact with her softly hanging breast. Her back arched and she screamed in a short feral explosion.  I dropped the flogger and, as she clenched her teeth, grabbed the hurt breast and squeezed it in my fist, “If you are expecting one thing the unexpected is so much better.” I said changing my hold on her flesh and rolling the nipple between thumb and finger.  I saw a tear appear under her blindfold so asked, “Do I continue, you remember the word to end this?”  I could see her think and then she said, “I remember but I don’t know, I think, I think I want to say stop.”  “ok, I will continue with a different sensation, use the word when you know you are sure about ending things.”  I untied her hands, along with one end of the spreader bar then said, helping her stand up, “I just need you to turn around and lay back on the wood.”  She was a little shaky as she stood so putting my arm around her I held her tight. As I did this her head lifted up so I kissed her and was pleasantly surprised as her tongue forced its way into my mouth. The kiss continued and my hand found its way between her legs and a single finger entered her gently slipping in and out as she lifted her left leg to give me easier excess.  “Enough.” I said removing my finger and mouth from her body, I helped her back onto the sloping wood and again tied her hands high above her head, to the securing bolt, I then secured the spreader bar between the ankle restraints under the wood. The bar has a loop at midpoint and to this I tied a length of rope, the other end I tied to the flogging wall, pulling her feet back under her arse and lifting her cunt high as her hips where pulled wide due to the width of the plank.  I sat on the chair I had used earlier and took off my boots and then trousers. I found a condom and with a little concentration, put it on then selected a horse crop, which had two short leather tails about 2 inches long, and moved to stand at the foot of the wood plank.  With small, sharp movements of my wrist I sent the tails across her nipples, first one then the other, hitting 10 or 12 times in a staccato rhythm then changing the target to hit once between her legs, on soft pink lips which stood, unexpectantly, open. I repeated this 3 or 4 times until I judged I had risked enough and she had had enough.  I moved to stand by her side and, while I stroked her body from nipple to inner thigh, I whispered in her ear, “Some do not think fucking is part of BDSM so I shall ask if you wished to be fucked before I do it as part of this experience.”  “Yes, Sir,” She said with a small smile. “or, Yes Please if you prefer.”  I untied her hands and she let her arms hang down at her side as I lifted my right leg over the plank so my prick was an inch or two from her and said, “Do not be cheeky, little one, you are still tied and just because I will be fucking you does not mean it will be the only sensation you will have  I inched forward and, pushing down on the end of my prick I slowly move inside her and like a good girl she pushed herself deeper onto me. I stood still, prick buried in warmth, and using the crop’s leather tails drew sensual trails across her skin from nipple to nipple to navel to clit and back again. Within a minute she raised her hands and held them again my hips as she began to move on my prick, drawing herself off and then pushing down to rub her clit against my groin as I stood immobile, her breathing began to get faster and, as her nails began to dig in, I saw the growing need she had for me to move inside her. Realising the moment had arrived I rested the crop across her belly and, putting a hand on each of her breasts, leaned down to kiss her ear.  My full weight was pressing down on her, crushing nipples against ribs through the flesh of her breasts. I thrust into her, my movement, adding more pressure and pain, caused her to groan loudly, “I will fuck you for as long as you stand the pain.” I whispered and, pushing myself up on to straight arms, continued to fuck her going as deep and fast as her mirrowing movements allowed.  My breathing was becoming fast as she placed her hands over mine and I saw her dig her nails deep into the soft flesh of her breasts between my fingers, ‘that is unexpected’ I thought to myself and took my left hand away to see what she would do.  Her hands squeezed and twisted her flesh, raking her nails across her erect nipple leaving lines as red as those I had given from my flogging.  “Harder.” A single word, she said, between gasping breathes as she reached for my left hand.  Making my hands into fists I pressed my knuckles into her breasts as her hands returned to my hips.  I fucked and forced my weight onto her as a building pain built in my hips under her hands, looking down I saw a bright red drop of blood on my skin, red lines, from this dear girl’s nails, mirroring her own marks; a small price to pay  I did not think I would be able to make her cum, or decide to stop this pain, before I came but suddenly her head thrashed from side to side and the raking of my skin stopped. She made no sound, did not breathe as her fingers spread wide and muscles moved in slow waves under the tight skin of her stomach.  I came a second later and, fighting the mix of pain and pleasure in the tip of my prick, continued to thrust into her until her movements calmed down.  A second’s pause, heart pounding, breathing trying to fill my lungs, vision clearing from an unnoticed unfocused gaze, I stand and let my prick die a little inside her.  I grasped the wood plank on either side of her neck and, leaning down, kiss her lightly on the lips. I gently removed the blindfold and threw it onto the floor.  Her eyes remain closed as I pushed myself up to stand looking down at her – fuck she was beautiful.  Her eyes opened slightly, they shine, a small smile comes to her lips and letting her arms fall to her side she closes her eyes again as the smile grows bigger.  Sadly, oh so very sadly, I pull myself out of her and stepping over the wooden plank sit down on the chair because my legs are shaking in a most entertaining fashion.  We stayed like that for about 5 minutes, her smiles, fading then bursting out bigger than before as the minutes pass.  I pulled on my trousers, discarding the condom into a bin, but remained barefooted as I moved to her shackled feet. I knelt down - I seemed to always be on my knees in front of her – and unbuckled the nearest restraint. Reaching under the plank I finally managed to unbuckle the other and, as if by magic, found myself within reach of her glistening cunt.  Like the nice Dom I am I lowered my head and, after one long, slow lick, bit gently into her soft pick lips, she tasted sweet, naturally and with a hint of strawberry from my used condom.  After a few seconds I stood going to her side to help her stand but as I got close she reached out and put the fingers of her left hand in to my unzipped trousers. I stopped and she pulled out my prick and, with a gentle tug, she led me back to her mouth, slow and gentle this time she held me with soft licks and sucks.  With eyes closed, her right hand moved slowly to go between her legs, with slow strokes, she put two fingers inside her.  I am old, but luckily not that old, for as I watched and felt her actions my prick came back to life. I took in what she was doing and let myself react as my body wished with no attempt at self control.  With a full prick in her mouth her fingers moved faster and, again, erotic moans began to come from her mouth vibrating on my shaft.  “I am going to cum.” I said giving her time to withdraw her mouth, if she wished, but she sucked as before and her fingers gained speed and strength adding wet sounds to my already stimulated senses.  I had to grab, with equal strength and need, the plank for balance and her hair to pull her on to me as I came in four strong spasms. She sucked, swallowed and bit as I came and I could not stop a cry cascade from my lips which went, something like, ”fffuuucckkkking jeeeeeeesus fucking Christ” as I tried to pierce the back of her skull with my softening prick.  As I died again, this time in her mouth, she gently sucked and licked until after a minute or so she took her mouth away, looked up at me and said with a smile, “Hello, Demon, my name’s Amy.”  The End - i think?

Ms. Cosmic, tell us how you really feel about the most recent election results... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o8VZX4sHn-4 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=35rHHEiNaIM https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b-3BI9AspYc https://www.google.com/search?q=war+pigs+women&oq=war+pigs+women&gs_lcrp=EgZjaHJvbWUyBggAEEUYOTIICAEQABgWGB4yCAgCEAAYFhgeMggIAxAAGBYYHjINCAQQABiGAxiABBiKBTINCAUQABiGAxiABBiKBTINCAYQABiGAxiABBiKBTINCAcQABiGAxiABBiKBTIKCAgQABiABBiiBDIKCAkQABiABBiiBNIBCDU3ODhqMGo3qAIIsAIB&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8#fpstate=ive&vld=cid:dddeac4f,vid:Vj4SJolBPt0,st:0 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r3SZu_KhWig https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vO1QyidBUPg https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6EWqTym2cQU https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZbNekA18FgM https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EgwQG3MYp3o https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M1kEjj3Ej68 https://www.youtube.com/shorts/gv_K7G13sXo lol

There's always a debate on what a sissy is. I found this diion and it's pretty accurate for me:   I think you are more suited to being kept as a submissive fetish sissy. When most people talk about a shemale they mean a girl who has a cock - a girl who uses her cock... A frilly fetish sissy is something else entirely. A fetish sissy is not even allowed to have a cock - we call it her clitty and we treat it like a clitty - keeping it in locked chastity. The more needy (horny) a fetish sissy gets, the more she becomes controlled by her clitty and quite quickly she finds herself doing utterly humiliating things to please her superiors without so much as a whimper - in fact, she often begs for more of the same. She is overwelmed with the desire to suck cocks or be bent over to be butt fucked to obtain her erotic pleasure. To become a submisive creature that wants men to subjugate her and use her to satisfy all their sexual desires and perversions. Using her and sissifying her as a sexual toy for their pleasure and orgasmic release. Her oral and anal slut holes just cock receptacles to be filled with hot cum. A sissy sexslave as it were, obediently doing everything she is told no matter how humiliating it might be. Her desire for utter and total submission and humiliation compels her to obey without question. If you google shemale, youll be directed to sites of TS girls fucking males. If you google sissy, youll find frilly little creatures, often dressed in extremely fetish feminine attire getting fucked by a strap-on cock or a real mans cock. Often the sissy is on her knees submissively sucking a mans cock like a good sissy cumslut. I think you are the latter. I think you are a submissive fetish sissyslut. I think what you need is to have every trace of male left in you removed until you are hopelessly feminine in the most exaggerated ways possible. Totally transed into a hot sexy slave bitch, then dressed, displayed and used as one. Your clitty needs to be locked away and the only way you would be allowed to find orgasmic relief is by being penetrated with stiff hungry cock or a dildo. Your libido and lust turned inward, your slutty desires only satisfied by phallic anal insertion or a mouth full of hard cock. Soon you will find your hips wantonly grinding up to meet your penetrator to attain your orgasmic femme sissy relief. Soon you will crave the company of dominant horny males seeking to use you as a cock slut for their pleasure and perversions. Now picture yourself like that - deliriously horny - tightly corsetted, locked in a chastity belt with large butt plug stretching your rosebud and filling your bottom, dressed in frills, garters, nylons, panties, petticoats, short revealing skirts, fetish leather or rubber, open ass hobble skirts, locked in the steepest stiletto high heels or ballet boots, ribbons, satin, latex and lace, often humiliated even in public. Often kept in some form of restrictive bondage, your will or choice to resist your male suitors completely removed. Forced to submit to horny men orally and anally on a regular basis, transed into a willing and wanton cocksucking cumslut sissy Does that sound like you? Yes it most certainly does.  

Punishment is based on creating a fear response of some kind. Fear erodes trust and connection. Trust and connection are essential for the surrender of a submissive. Therefore, punishment erodes what is essential to a healthy, successful Ds dynamic. This makes punishment of any sort incompatible with my relationships.  I am a leader and a carer in my career and daily life.  I do not punish any of my charges, and it insults the dignity of another creature to punish them. I make mistakes, but never intentionally. I have no motivation to brat or test the boundaries a partner may set for me. I hate failure, and I hate displeasing. My motivation is to make a partner proud. That is incentive enough to avoid mistakes. That is, provided I have a partner capable of feeling and expressing pleasure, and who wants to have pride in who serves him. A constructed, unnecessary punishment added on top of knowing I have failed or displeased just creates more pain for everyone, and even has more subtle, insidious impact, such as contributing to feelings of inadequacy. The best way to avoid making a mistake is communication, flowing clearly and in quantity in both directions. The best response to a mistake or misunderstanding is to try to get clarity, then discuss it, find common ground, and discuss how to avoid what went wrong. I believe in accountability and responsibility, and also in practicality. I acknowledge that my position on punishment is perhaps unusual or unexpected. I consider myself well healed from my traumas, none of which I would consider terribly serious to start with. I know myself, and I know my needs. I have no hope of serving anyone if I cannot serve with an open, vulnerable heart. Some submissives apparently require a punishment mechanism, either to set aside their mistakes with a physical reminder or something else to even the scales, or to have some sort of other constructed reminder of which way the power exchange flows. I am not so unfortunate. I can understand these concepts perfectly well through verbal reassurance.

What being a sub means for me Being submissive to someone allows me to put my at ease knowing that no real pain will happen under My Dominate's protection. I know what is done is for my own benefit or theirs but not just theirs. It allows me to turn off the part if my brain always questioning or assuming something bad is about to happen. Being shown I belong to that person comforts me! I wish to find one who will help me be better! Not just for their pleasure but also in my life! Someone who will communicate their needs and consider all mine. Someone who is willing to balance not just take. Someone who has my best interest and my heart at the forefront of their mind. They guide, they support, they encourage me to be my best self! Although I struggle with it I am taking steps to better my life and work towards my goals both at work and home, I'm learning about how to be a better active listener currently and hoping to try to be more active and eat healthier.

TO MY LOYAL SUPPORTERS, As the year draws to a close, I find MYSELF reflecting on the incredible journey 2024 has been. This year was nothing short of extraordinary, filled with milestones, unforgettable experiences, and growth that surpassed even MY own expectations. From traveling to new places that expanded MY vision to building deeper connections with those who’ve been here since day one, I owe it all to YOU. To MY loyal subscribers: YOU made this possible. Every moment of luxury, every goal crushed, every step forward, it’s a testament to your unwavering support and belief in ME. Together, we’ve created something unstoppable, and for that, I AM endlessly grateful. For those who’ve been watching from the sidelines, wishing they were part of this, know this: you’ve missed out on a year of exclusivity, transformation, and power. MY circle is reserved for those who understand what it means to invest in greatness. 2024 was just the beginning. The next chapter will be bigger, bolder, and untouchable. To MY loyal supporters: thank you for being part of this legacy. To the rest, the door is open, but not for long. Merry Christmas and here’s to an even more powerful 2025! With gratitude and fire,  AFRICAN GODDESS

  A mediocre Dominant tells.   A good Dominant teaches.   An excellent Dominant explains.   A true Dominant inspires.  

  MistressVN: bi, 40 years BDSM experience.   164 cm, 53 kg, blonde with long hair, green-blue eyes. Feminine, elegant, classy, ESTJ (The Supervisor) personality type.   I am searching for a slave for 24/7, TPE, FLR serious, permanent live-in relation.   I AM A MISTRESS SEEKING A SLAVE, NOT A DOM SEARCHING FOR SUBMISSIVE!!!   5 basic traits for a candidate to meet the criteria of a slave:   Honest Devoted Pleaser Industrious Altruist   To be My slave, you also need to be social and single.   Check your personality type on Truity.com and let Me know your four letter combination type.   Check the above in order to save time for both parts. If any of the mentioned is not part of your character, you should move on.   With this said: read carefully below and I mean carefully, because I will know if you did as soon as you contact Me.   I am clean, disease free and expect the same from you.   Bondage, dildos, dominance are some of the activities I will make you part of, you will wear chastity belt and will be totally submitted to Me.   HOWEVER, THE MAIN FOCUS WILL BE ON SERVICE!!   I accept obedient novice who has the will to serve. Ideal Person:   Committed Genuinely submissive,   Organized and disciplined slave for personal services, 24/7 live-in,   permanent/long term relation. Obedient Healthy Ready to relocate within reasonable time You are into BD (bondage & domination) but not into hard SM.   Position open ONLY for long term/PERMANENT slave!!!   Kindly READ BELOW and CONSIDER, BEFORE you write to Me:  

Hello :) I have been sick this last week with Covid. I'm finallly getting better but still sneezing alottt but I'm getting better and am soooo thankful for that. I've been feeling very little this last week. wishing I had someone to take care of me a bit. Someday maybe that will happen for me but right now it's just me! I'm glad I can start getting back to normal this week and go back to work. I feel Like I've lost a week of my life truly I have just slept for a week and ate saltine crackers because I haven't been able to taste anything lol. I'm miss writing on here, my old profile had many pages of my writing but I've lost all of that unfortunately. maybe I'll try to write more. I'm sure it won't be super exciting stuff all the time but it helps me get out of my head a bit.  i started talking to an old friend again. I've known him for 8 years which is crazy! Weve always talked about getting together but its hard with the distance and just life things. i am glad we are talking again, he makes me feel safe and special and sometimes that's all I need.   

 I shouldn’t have drank coffee late in the evening.  So now I am up writing out my thoughts. I will be paying for this tomorrow. -sigh- I’ve been seeking a Dom for the past four years without much success. Partly because I feel jaded with most of the men I have encountered. Also, I admit, sometimes I self-sabotage. I become immensely turned off by men who refuse to show themselves, as well as those who immediately refer to me as “Princess”, “babygirl”, and even “girl”. Or, when they are speaking with me OUTSIDE of an official dynamic and say “Good Girl”. I immediately become uninterested.  I am not fully inexperienced, though I’m also not fully experienced either. I have had one Dom. I learned a hell of a lot from him. Good and bad. Especially, how I should be treated. I get that this is a kink site with a LARGE spectrum of diversity when it comes to kinks. However still, I would prefer to be approached respectfully. I would like to be courted. Is this even possible within the realm of kink? Goodness I hope so.  I don’t have much on my page regarding to what I am seeking, well, because I’d like to keep my options open and not narrow down my dating pool even more than it already is. Plus, most of what I am seeking is repeated on multiple profiles, so it all sounds regurgitated after a while.  I would love to find a man who is secure with himself. I am somehow attracting men who aren’t in some ect or another. I won’t go into detail here. But, I’ve noticed. Right now, in my life, I’m focused on working, saving money for visits with my children, and seeking a partner. So to me, while it is life, I self-sabotage due to thinking others may not find that appealing. Which it may not be. However, I would prefer a family oriented kinky partner. I believe someone is out there for me.

"So into you" or why ob- ject -ification is not as flattering as some guys think it is The subject today will be centered around ob- ject -ification, and how lack of the right actions is getting in the way of what you want. Recently my day was spent prepping for Mom spending the night, which mostly meant me continuing to organize, clean and just generally improving the space in my sewing room, (the only real spare room) which has a futon, and most importantly, DOORS, so she can have privacy and quiet from my cats. Now, being ADD, I work better with music and company, so I put music on that she and I can both enjoy- a Pandora station based on the Doobie Brothers I started just for her. And being who I am, I tend to listen to lyrics, and then often find myself analyzing them. Usually, I'm specifically analyzing the relationship failings described in them. It doesn't always stop me enjoying the music, but sometimes I recognize the stalkery mindsets that filled our airwaves when I was young and impressionable. As were the guys who were listening. It's not surprising that we all grew up thinking these kinds of unhealthy behaviors and expectations were normal, and even romantic. Songs like Boston's "Let me take you home tonight," where a guy is explaining to a woman he's never actually met before that he's basically been stalking her and built a strong fantasy and expectations about who she is, and now he feels that she should absolutely feel both flattered, and obligated to have sex with him. "You must understand this, I've watched you for so long, that I feel I've known you, I know it can't be wrong," and goes on to say "I'm dreamin of your sweet love tonight, let me take you home tonight." So… he's been watching her for a long time without talking to her, decided who she was without ever having a single conversation, and, of course, imagining sex with her. A lot. And he tells her so, over and over and over. Let me do this thing I want. Let me do this thing I want. Let me do this thing because I want it. Because that's always what is really going on there. Always the focus and end focus. Nah... that's not creepy AT ALL. Geesh. Today, it was "So Into You" by Atlanta Rhythm Section. Different band, different song, same thought process - I saw you, I was attracted, I've decided who you must be, and I can't think about anything except sex with you - only this time, they seem to want to make it her fault. Now, at first, what struck me was "could not catch your eyes" and "stand here helplessly hoping you get into me." Which just makes me ask 'What did he actually try?' I end up envisioning Toothless in How to Train Your Dragon 2, dancing around like a lunatic and freaking out the of his affections. Let's hope it wasn't like that. But honestly, it sounds like he really didn't try much. He admits that he's 'standing helplessly' rather than walking across the room and saying hello. Which sounds a lot like complaints I've heard from guys before. "I don't know how to talk to women" and that's where it ends, rather than trying to solve that. I mean, there are classes, there are workshops, there is therapy, etc. There are options. Why would someone not even try to fix the thing that keeps them from finding companionship if they are stating that they want it? Passive is not a good look. Or as has been said "faint heart ne'er won fair lady." Unfortunately, the closer we look at the lyrics, the creepier it gets. All this woman did was walk into a room. Suddenly, he's obsessed. He "can't think of nothing else." He says "Love the things you do" when so far, all she's done so far was exist in the same room. She's "driving him crazy," "thinking about how it's going to be" and he's "Gonna love her all over, over and over." So he's not really thinking about getting to KNOW her. He's focused on this fantasy he has of who she is, and what he wants to do to her. She's a beautiful woman. But somehow, she's not really a person. I mean, he's impressed by her, and he wants something from her. But not enough to make the effort to interact with her as human being. So he's "helpless" and "driven crazy" and "captured" but is just standing around "hoping." Worst part is that I really do like the song. Musically, and I like his voice, and the moody, kinda slow jazz feel to it. Shame about the message. I do get it - sometimes you see someone who just looks so cool it's hard to figure out how to approach so that they will be as impressed by you as you are by them. I was told that I'm intimidating... decades before I knew that Dominant was a thing. And the problem isn't that he thinks she's beautiful with "voodoo in the vibe." It's that he's turning that into something SHE's doing - "driving him crazy," and turning his insecurity into "helpless." And the entire thing is portrayed as flattering, and romantic, and a compliment to her. Because isn't that what women are supposed to want? For men to desire them? For her beauty to give her power somehow? For her appearance to add to her value to men? Because "The Male Gaze" is always supposed to be a woman's focus. And what a man feels when gazing is her responsibility. And anything a man might do because of that feeling when gazing at her is her fault. And that is the message. In song after song. "I saw you, I had a feeling, I have a want, I am thinking about you, I am having lots of thoughts about you, I'm having a fantacy about you, I'm deciding that the fantacy is a true representation of who you are, so now I'm building hopes, and I'm building expectations, and now I'm going to approach you , and you should share all my fantacies and fullfil the hopes and expecations rather than view me as some total stranger who's making weird sexual demands." (We won't even START discussing murder ballads. That came up recently too...) That is the message young guys get when they are first thinking about asking girls on a date. That this is how it happens. That this is normal. So when they do it, they are shocked and confused by the girl's reaction. Then again, young girls get this too, so plenty of times when a guy is inappropriate, before they've learned to be afraid of guys and their reaction to rejection, they belive they are supposed to be flattered that a guy is paying attention to them. Even if she doesn't like him, having a guy want you is important, a measure of your value as a woman. So rather than seeing a red flag for later, more aggressive poor behavior, they see it through the lens of "romance." They feel pretty and special and don't recognize healthy behavior when they see it elsewhere because this is how it happens, and what is normal. It's right up there with "he must like you if he punched you" in grade school turning into "he didnt mean it, you know he loves you" later when he beats her bloody later in life. Hell, I literally had this just yesterday. "Hello beautiful, I’ve always wanted to meet you , I love that hair , your so beautiful, I’m in (my town) until Jan 30th Love spoil you and finally get to actually meet you , I only been dreaming for years to do some sissy sessions with you " Never read a single line of my profile in all those "years." So he literally only knows that I have a nice picture. I point that out. (It's a thing for me...you may have noticed.) He responds "I know I need proper training but I know you can teach me !" Because of course, that would be my goal - to spend time and a lot of energy giving someone what they want when they couldn't spend 5 minutes reading my profile. I point out that he STILL hasn't read it, or addressed my reply, and that it was kind of insulting.  He pushed on, though - "We can go get coffee or meet at a munch or anything your up for , I’m only here to next Sunday , but after we meet and greet , I know you would always enjoy my company"  Because obviously, women enjoy men who they feel have insulted them. Especially when it's the BDSM equivalent of a one night stand.  Yes, I blocked him. He obviously wasn't going to catch a clue, even when smacked with a clue-by-four, so there was no point letting him keep messaging me until he got nasty.  He told me I was beautiful, so it automatically followed in his mind that I would immediately want to be alone, up close and personal, providing him his desired gratification, in a session with him, a total stranger, on the first meeting. And that his idea of "spoil" would be the same as mine. Or "proper training." He belived knew me, what I'd want, what I enjoy from my company, etc, without having to read a word I wrote, because he'd looked at my picture and had a feeling and built a fantasy and then expecations. And that who I was beyond my face (and hair) didn't matter.  Because I was not a person to him.  I was an object he desired... a fetish vending machine into which he felt he had put the appropriate coinage - a compliment on my looks. And he wasn't going to be desueded from that with reality or actual human interaction.  This is the world women live in. This is what "The Male Gaze" actually means. If we are attractive, we have value, but not humanity. If we are not attractive, we have no value, and are dehumanized.  You'd think men who want to be Dominated would behave at least slightly different, show at least surface respect to a Dominant Woman, but on average, they don't. And yet, right now, in several groups, there are guys going on about how hard it is to find a Mistress, by guys with the same empty profiles and dick pic avatars and tons of 'do me' groups. The same complaints, the same confusion, the same helplessness and yet the same refusal to make the efforts that would make it possible for a Dominant Woman to want to interact with them.  They are standing helplessly... hoping... being driven crazy... not understanding why we aren't "getting into" them.

When my ex and I were exploring BDSM and doing research, I was more attracted to the submissive role for myself. I encouraged her toward taking the Domme role, and I would be her submissive, but she wasn’t interested. I even created a website dedicated to FLR, but she wanted me to be her Dom. But, my core was really very submissive to women. Now that I am single, I am very interested in exploring my submissive side with an amazing Domme. If you would like to see the FLR website I created, it’s    http://amazingflr.byethost8.com

So, here are my profile updates, which unfortunately I can't make to my profile itself. Let's see how much of this actually gets posted. I am seeking only Dominant Men. New profile: **About me****TLDR version:** Male (he/him pronouns) Canberra-based ethical non-monogamist, rubberist slave (open to subbing and bottoming or even being equals) is looking for dominant men, for short term experiences, experiments, play sessions all the way to long term slave relationships. I am looking for local Australian people for a face to face relationship. I am not looking for an online relationship, but am open to relocating for the right man. I am very happy to satisfy your curiousity about latex rubber in a single session or something more long term. W/we may have already chatted/met/played over the past 15 years, as my previous profiles include ozrubbergimp, ozrubberpony and LearnerRubberDom. i was out of the local scene for a few years in the 2010s due to exploring long-distance relationships but I discovered that I need face to face relationships that are moving forward, not online fantasies which end up with long chats that don't go anywhere.**Personal information**I'm a person who:* likes using lists to organise information as my natural inclination is to start too many things at the same time and not finish most of them, which happens to me a lot as an [INFP](https://personalityjunkie.com/infp-personality-type-profile/) when my Extraverted Intuition is in charge :)* Is intelligent, caring, kind and enjoys conversation.* is physically 198cm (or 6'6") tall, of average build (i.e. have middle age spread and am doing something about it) and weigh 118 kilos (ditto). I have grey/brown head hair, blue eyes and little body hair (which may be hard to see under the rubber).* Besides wearing (breathing, smelling, tasting etc) rubber, I am an indoors introvert type of person. I enjoy quiet nights in and not nightclubbing or parties. I enjoy reading and discussing science fiction, history, politics, astrology, psychology, supporting green politics and causes, such as preventing man-made climate change, promoting respect for all religions, supporting the rights of minorities, and living in a world of limits, such as peak oil. My main hobby is playing board wargames published by GMT games, VPG games, DG, Strategy and Tactics, Avalon Hill (RIP).* Potential income-earning skills: besides those that i have gained as a policy wonk employed by the Australian federal public service for 25+ years (literature-based research and analysis; writing short, medium and long reports; managed four staff; project management; contract management) i also can do futures studies and foresight (help you and your organisation develop a vision for the future and implement it); high school science teaching; ecological field work; written communication: drafting, editing, proof-reading.---**How I want to meet and get to know people*** I am patient and want to get to know people well online (chatting, camming) before meeting in person for vanilla dates to talk about our common interests before playing the first time. Sure this way is a slow way, but I want to find people who could travel together with me a long way on a common journey, and so patience and a slow pace is a virtue. I am happy to talk through what I/i am looking for and work through any questions that people might have.* If you have no interest in me, please tell me. I have previously pissed people off by being persistent beyond reasonable requests to stop, so please tell me if you have no interest.* I believe that physical and emotional chemistry is vital between us, even for a play session. So meeting in person is important to establish this early in getting to know someone.* my philosophy is that there are two levels in any scene, relationship or 24/7 life:      -  at the base level, both parties (dominant and submissive) have the power to enter, continue or leave the scene, relationship or 24/7 life. Both parties have the power to propose, negotiate and consent to what might be included or excluded in it.-  at the level of the power exchange, the submissive consents through negotiation to give the dominant a level of decision-making and control for the duration of the scene, relationship or 24/7 life.* my principle is that any participants in any scene, relationship or 24/7 life has a safeword or equivalent. W/we'd only play after W/we met for a meal or two together to check one another out and negotiate what we will do together, as I don't believe in rushing things. Feel free to ask me any questions Y/you like.* I prefer to meet single people, but I am open to playing and relating to people in all types of relationship. If you already in a relationship - well i don't want to be your "rubber affair", and have to compete with your spouse or partner, even if you think cam sex doesn't count as real sex.  i am more than happy to play with people if their partner(s) is OK with that. I am discovering that I am curious about in ethical non-monogamy relationships, as I am realising that in Canberra it is unlikely that I will be unable to meet my fetish and emotional needs in the same person.* I am looking for local Australian men, or international men. I am not looking for an online long distance relationship.* My current consent model is FRIES, which stands for Freely given, Reversible, Informed, Enthusiastic and Specific (hat-tip to mishmash). The one that really resonated with me was enthusiastic, not just from the other people I interact with, but for myself. If I find I am not enthusiastic about trying something, it has given me the permission to say no, instead of the mindset of how do you know if you don't try?? And yes, there is something in that, but you can be enthusiastically curious, or not curious at all, and that's ok! For example, it's highly likely that you know that you don't want to lick that shit, even though you've never tried it before, it's ok for you to never try it.* i believe and support and use the sub's / slave's bill of rights:1.  Every sub has the right to have their body, intellect, and emotions protected by their Dom.2.  Every sub has the right to choose the person whom they serve and to discontinue that service and take their leave without being subjected to physical, mental, or emotional abuse.3.  Every sub has the right to be cared for, disciplined appropriately, and allowed to feel pride in their submission.4.  Every sub has the right to protected sex if they so wish.5.  Every sub has the right to privacy if they so wish. No sub can be blackmailed, publicly humiliated, or physically coerced into service without his expressed desire to be so.6.  Every sub has the right to defend themselves from physical, sexual, and emotional abuse.7.  Every sub has the right to consent or not to consent to sexual activities.8.  Every sub has the right to seek refuge, counsel, and advice from other subs and Dom/mes without the expectation of sex, money, or any other service in return.9.  Every sub has the right to a physically and emotionally available circle of friends.10.  Every sub has the right to protect his own possessions and finances against intercession, theft, and non-consensual acquisition.---Still here? Still interested? Now on to the kink stuff...## ***Kink information***### **Things that i know about myself that i

Well, yeah, I spit blood when I wake upSink porcelain stained, choking up brain matter and make-upJust two days since the mainframe went down and I'm still messed upRoom feels like a meat freezer, I dangle in like cold cutsMissed calls, answer phones from people I just don't trustMirror talk, fake love, but I'll take a pound of your fleshBefore you take a piece of my pay stubWhite roses, black doves, Godmother, rise upI need you to see me for what I have become My, my, those eyes like fireI'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyreCome now, bite through these wiresI'm a waking hell and the gods grow tiredReset my patient violence along both lines of a pathway higherGrow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire I guess it goes to show, does it not?That we've no idea what we've gotUntil we lose itAnd no amount of love will keep it aroundIf we don't choose it And I don't know what's got its teeth in meBut I'm about to bite back in angerNo amount of self-sought furyWill bring back the glory of innocence My, my, those eyes like fireI'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyreCome now, bite through these wiresI'm a waking hell and the gods grow tiredReset my patient violence along both lines of a pathway higherGrow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire

On Being Tended To There is a particular kind of vulnerability in being sick that I have never made peace with easily. I am not a woman who softens gracefully under inconvenience. I do not do helpless well. A migraine, specifically, is an affront, the kind of physical mutiny that my body stages without my permission and that I resent with the focused irritation of someone who had other plans for the day and does not appreciate the interruption. What I have made peace with is this: being cared for well, by someone trained to my specific requirements, is its own kind of power. It is not weakness to lie in a darkened room and receive exactly what you need. It is, in fact, the point. I wake with it already behind my left eye, that specific pressure that announces itself before I am fully conscious, before I have had a chance to negotiate or refuse. The light from the curtain gap is already too much. I do not have to say anything. You are already moving. This is what attention produces, real attention, the kind that is trained and deliberate and treats learning me as the serious undertaking it is: you read the quality of my stillness the way a sailor reads weather. You know before I speak. The curtains are drawn the rest of the way before I ask. The room drops into the particular darkness that a migraine demands, not full black but the soft gray of a room that has been told to be quiet. You move through it without turning on lights. I notice this. It matters. The water arrives cold, with the specific glass I prefer, on the nightstand without a sound. My medication beside it, already sorted, already the right ones in the right order without my having to inventory my own suffering aloud. You have learned my protocols the way you learn everything about me: carefully, completely, understanding that the details are not optional and that getting them right is the baseline expectation rather than a performance deserving praise. You adjust the pillow without being asked. I note this too. The house goes silent. Not the silence of absence but the managed silence of someone who has taken on the task of keeping the world at a specific volume so that I do not have to. Inside there is nothing: no television, no movement that is not careful, no presence that asks anything of me. You understand, or you will understand, that tending to me when I am unwell is not about hovering. It is about calibrated invisibility. Being precisely available and precisely absent in exactly the right proportions, which requires more intelligence than most people give it credit for. I am not interested in someone who needs to be seen caring for me. I am interested in someone who simply does it, correctly, without making their effort my problem. You bring a cool cloth without being asked and place it over my eyes with hands that are exactly the right temperature and exactly the right pressure. Not tentative. Tentative is more irritating than bold when I am in pain. You do the thing or you do not. You do not do it halfway and then hover at the edge of the bed waiting to be told you got it right. You already know whether you got it right. If you do not know, you are not ready for this. I sleep for a while. When I surface you are in the chair, not at the bedside, not making your presence into a demand I have to respond to. Simply there, available the way a room is available: quietly, without agenda. The water has been refreshed at some point without my noticing. This pleases me more than you will ever hear me say. By afternoon the worst has passed into the dull aftermath, that wrung-out flatness that follows a bad migraine like a gray tide going out. You bring food without asking whether I want it, because you know that I will refuse food when I should eat and that part of your function is to override my worse instincts with gentle, firm consistency. It is exactly what you know I can manage: nothing that requires effort, nothing with a smell that will undo the fragile progress of the afternoon, presented without ceremony or the implicit pressure of someone waiting to be thanked. I eat. I do not thank you. You do not require it. Later, in the thin early evening light, you sit at the foot of the bed and work your hands over my feet with the focused attention you bring to anything you do for my body, slow and deliberate, the kind of pressure that does not ask anything back. I lie with one arm over my eyes and the understanding that I want from you in these moments is not sympathy and it is not performance. It is competence. It is presence without weight. It is the specific quality of someone who considers this a privilege rather than an inconvenience, who moves through my discomfort with the steadiness of someone who has made my comfort their entire purpose for the day and requires nothing in return. You do not ask how I am feeling every twenty minutes. You do not make small sounds of concern that require me to reassure you. You do not treat my pain as an opportunity to demonstrate how caring you are. You simply handle it, quietly and correctly, and you let me be unwell without making my illness into a performance we are both starring in. This is what I require. Not grand gestures. Not visible sacrifice. The quiet, intelligent, sustained attention of someone who has studied me carefully enough to know what I need before I need to say it, and who finds their satisfaction not in being acknowledged but in the simple fact of having gotten it right. If you can do this, on the days when I am at my least, when there is nothing glamorous or cinematic about what is being asked of you, when the task is simply to be useful and invisible and exactly correct, then you understand something essential about what this life actually is beneath the surface of it. It is not always the collar and the candlelight. Sometimes it is the cool cloth, the right glass, the chair in the corner, the silence held like something precious.   Get that right, and you will have understood something that most never do.

Also known as "well, you're fat and ugly and I didn't like you anyway!" Yet another rando on 9/24/25 at 5:59 AM: Hi maam I am an exp slave and was in a female led marriage with my late wife for 11 years . I seek to serve again. I am a true service slave and verty domestic. I have no limits as long as legal. Hope we may talk maam   angeldmort on 9/24/25 at 9:30 AM: And what part of this email is something you haven't sent to every other Domme with a nice picture? Its insulting that you view us as interchangeable, generic vending machines for your kink.   Yet another rando on 9/24/25 at 10:20 AM: On tbe contrary. Not sure who told you that you have a nice picture   And so many of you guys insist it's Dommes who are fake... All this would be sad if it weren't so hilariously predictable.

LOL Some of ya'll are just pulling My leg now... ..."Another one gone, another one gone, another one bites the dust...yeah"   I'm learning to embrace this process.  No doubt other dominants will agree, this 'finding' process hones you to a fine instrument of decisiveness and determination and deliverance. One unfortunate aspect, at least in My experience, is that the nincompoops flood ones bloody inbox with so much wasting of time that they bury the sincere inquiries.  Oh well, THANK God I have some hopefulls in the wings.  Let's say a prayer they fly true and straight! ************** I've been wanting to say a word to all the dominant and submissive men I've had the pleasure of speaking with here who are or who have been caregivers (admitely I don't often speak with women caregivers).  The amount of you who have cared for mothers and wives, Mistresses and sisters, daughters, grandmothers, aunts and on...  You have surprised Me with your care and your strength, inturn sharing your strength with Me and adding to My own convictions and care.  THANK YOU for all that you do!  You all are true gems and what would the world be like if not for the men who care for us?  For those of you whose loves have passed on, My heart goes out to you as you journey foward after the battle you have endured.  May you find peace and kindness and mutual hearts to heal after the storm.  For those of you who continue on as I do, nurturing those whom we love and care for, may you find the strength to continue giving your grace and goodness.  I hold a tender place in My heart for those who give of theirself and I pray for us all ways.  May God bless you and keep you and those whom you love, in grace. You are not alone and you are loved.

I was asked about the history of M/s in the U.S. so I put together this paper for my class that I teach. As many of you know, I teach classes about our lifestyle. Consensual Master/slave (M/s) relationships form a distinctive branch of the larger BDSM world, built on explicit consent and mutual trust rather than coercion. Though the language echoes the United States’ painful legacy of slavery, within this context “slave” refers to a self-chosen role in which adults negotiate the terms of authority, service, and the freedom to leave at any time. Tracing the history of these relationships reveals a story of gradual emergence from secrecy to visibility and of a community that continually refines its ethical principles. Long before the term BDSM existed, underground currents of erotic power exchange ran through American life. In the nineteenth century, small “flagellation societies” and clandestine magazines catered to people fascinated by ritualized dominance and discipline. Early-twentieth-century fetish photography and private clubs in cities like New York and Chicago hinted at a subculture that could not yet show itself openly, constrained by strict obscenity laws and the threat of arrest. After World War II, a more public foundation appeared. Returning veterans formed motorcycle clubs and gay leather bars, creating what became known as leather culture. These spaces celebrated hierarchy, uniforms, and protocol—values familiar to men who had served in the military and who now sought camaraderie and structured erotic play. San Francisco’s South of Market district, Chicago’s Gold Coast bar, and New York’s Greenwich Village all nurtured this emerging aesthetic. While not every leather relationship was explicitly Master/slave, the emphasis on ritual service and clearly defined roles foreshadowed the dynamics to come. The social upheavals of the 1960s and 1970s brought the first real stirrings of public organization. In 1971 the Eulenspiegel Society, or TES, was founded in New York as an educational and social group for people interested in consensual BDSM. TES meetings offered a rare safe space to discuss negotiation, service, and authority exchange. At the same time the gay liberation movement and the post-Stonewall push for visibility encouraged practitioners to speak more openly, while feminist debates over sexuality and power sharpened the community’s thinking about agency and consent. It was during this era that the term “Master/slave” began to be used more deliberately to describe ongoing power-exchange relationships rather than isolated encounters. Through the 1980s and 1990s the community expanded and codified its ethics. The principles of “Safe, Sane, and Consensual” became a rallying cry, soon joined by the idea of “Risk-Aware Consensual Kink,” which acknowledged that all play carries some danger if undertaken without careful negotiation. National gatherings such as Living in Leather and organizations like the National Leather Association connected practitioners across genders and orientations. Amid the HIV/AIDS crisis, leather and M/s groups became hubs of health education and mutual support. Competitions such as International Mr. Leather made formal presentations of Master/slave relationships more visible, and writers like Guy Baldwin explored the psychology of dominance and submission in influential essays and books. The arrival of the internet around the turn of the millennium transformed everything again. Email lists, online forums, and later social networks such as FetLife allowed people in small towns or conservative regions to find community, share protocols, and even post detailed M/s contracts. Education went global as conferences could draw participants from every region. Meanwhile, mainstream attention—from documentaries to the runaway success of Fifty Shades of Grey—brought BDSM into living rooms and office break rooms, if often in sensational or inaccurate ways. Academic researchers began publishing peer-reviewed studies that showed consensual power exchange could be compatible with psychological health and relationship satisfaction. Today’s M/s community in the United States is strikingly diverse. Participants span every gender, orientation, and cultural background. Annual gatherings such as the Master/slave Conference in Washington, D.C., offer advanced classes on negotiation, long-term dynamics, and the philosophy of service and ownership. Many households create written agreements spelling out duties, limits, and the right to revoke consent, underscoring that autonomy remains central even within total-power dynamics. Yet the term “slave” still prompts careful reflection. Some prefer alternatives like “property” or “servant,” while others reclaim the word as a conscious statement of agency. This ongoing conversation shows how the community remains attentive to the country’s history of chattel slavery and the need for language that honors both freedom and responsibility.  From clandestine nineteenth-century societies to today’s internet-connected conferences, the evolution of consensual Master/slave relationships in the United States is a story of people turning hierarchy into intimacy. Over more than a century, practitioners have built a culture grounded in negotiation, education, and mutual respect. Far from re-enacting oppression, these relationships transform the language of mastery and service into a chosen path of trust, discipline, and personal liberation.

well it's was a Friday night and I had to go to a talk, in town, once there I was sitting have a bite to eat and a drink when a woman came over sat down she said are you here for the talk tonight I said yes , she said you will enjoy my chat too, she ordered a drink and said she was staying here for the weekend and while we chatted she stroked my cock till I was nearly cumming in my pants. The bell rand the conference was about to start she said take my key and I will see you afterwards, she gave me her key the conference went on for an hour when it finished I went to her room just as I was to enter another woman stood ne to me she said am here to get you ready Mistress demands total submission, I was a little confused . But once naked and cleasned inside and out , placed in a short maids uniform blind, and a penis gage locked on all fours on the bed. Mistress arrived placing her ass in my face she removed the penis gag and pushed back I felt the first of six different cocks fill me . And cum. When I woke up I was locked in chastity and she said you are now my bitch . get use to not cumming till your full of my cock

A Perfect Circle: "The Thirteenth Step".   Alex Fleming: The baby monitor.  South Park Studios. Lloyd Ahlquist: Microsoft Office.  Chas T. Main.   David Charlebois.  The World Wide Web.  The Adult Video Awards.   Kara Williamson: America's Funniest Home Videos.  Fox News.    Roshay Reddy: The stun gun.  Judge Rotenberg Center.   Daniel Monahan: The drum machine.  Death Row Records.   Jenna Williamson: The terminal process.  MUSH Park.   Cody Keiser: The duct tape wallet.  Tool.   Mathilda Gagnon: The collectible card game.  MoveOn.   Peter Tsaptsaris: The Tamagotchi.  Persel.   Allison Haimes: Arabica blend.  Starbucks Coffee.   Pat Ware: The Quake engine.  The Respite Center. 

A fantasy of mine..."My internal world is rich with wicked fantasies, and I know the feeling of a tortured existence when those fantasies and desires are not fulfilled. If you’re looking for a girl who is willing and eager to open herself up to your darkest desires and most erotic dreams, then please read further.  Have you ever had a desire to see an eager, willing thing serve your every whim? Or fantasised about being tied up and chastised, told you’re a naughty boy whilst your mistress tells you just how she ought to punish you? Or perhaps you may have thought about a night out for some discreet public play, toy in you or your partner whilst the other holds the remote? Whatever your fantasy, I’d like to make it a reality.  I derive immense enjoyment from fulfilling another’s needs and desires, thus, their interests become my own. So, if you are yet to take that first step into the delicious world of sex and needing a friendly smile and eager attitude to illuminate the path, have a fantasy that you are dying to explore, or have an interest in exploring various kinks to discern what tickles your tail feather, I’m offering my body and oh-so excited mind to bring those desires to fruition.  So boys and girls, if you feel our interest may align please message me for, what could be, a wild and delicious ride. "

The pacifier falls from his mouth and even before I hear it hit the floor he says, louder than I expected, "I will never fuck you again, Kristen." And almost before he even gets the words out he immediately grunts and convulses. I know he's orgasming before I see the spurts of cum escape out the waistband of his white and baby blue diaper. He has been humping his diaper for less than two minutes, and his inability to last any longer drives me crazy inside. I can’t wait to find my hitachi. His mouth is open and he's breathing heavily. Now that he's cum, I want to drive this new reality. "Now, tell me again M, 'I will never fuck you again.'" He catches his breath, looks at me spent, like a puppy, a sad, broken puppy. Quietly he says, "I will never fuck you again Kristen." I'm not convinced and say, "up on your knees, and say it louder." It is taking all of my strength not to plunge my fingers under my dress and into my underwear as I watch him struggle from sitting to his knees, but I know that immediately post orgasm he needs to be made to understand. "Now, look me in the face and tell me you agree and accept that you will never have sex with me again." I see it now, conviction in his eyes, he has accepted it and the moment hits me like a ton of bricks. This feels more significant than when he said, "I do" years ago. He goes a step beyond...I am again so proud of him. So proud where I have been able to direct us.  M looks me in the face, crosses his arms behind his back grabbing his forearms, straightens himself...   "K, I willingly agree and whole heartedly accept that we will never again have sex. I fully accept that we have crossed a line and cannot go back. I am yours. I love you, I want this for you, I want this for us."  I can't stand it...I am torn by the most arousal I have ever felt between my legs and the bursting emotion inside my chest. I tear up, get on my knees with him and wrap my arms around him, we hug for a long time. When we let go we both have tears on our cheeks. "I love you" I say. "I love you" he says. 

Understanding:    What does it mean to truly understand? To grasp the depths of another's hand, To see beyond words, to feel the emotion, To bridge the gap, find a shared devotion.   Is it in the silence, the space between, Where empathy blooms, unseen yet keen? Or in the eyes, windows to a soul, Where truths lie hidden, waiting to unroll.   Understanding is a dance, a delicate art, A merging of minds, a meeting of heart. To walk in another's shoes for a while, To embrace their essence, their joys, their trial.   It's a connection that transcends the spoken word, A bond so deep, yet seldom heard. To understand is to truly be present, To listen, to feel, to be ever-so pleasant.   So let us seek to understand each other, To lift veils, to unearth, to discover. For in understanding, we find unity, A shared humanity, a priceless opportunity.

I read it but.... * I didn't really read the words I just looked at the pics * I didn't think when you said I had to be in the same country that you meant physically had to be * I didn't think when you said no one under 50 that you would not make an exception for me as I am very mature * I didn't think when you did not say to send the pic, I have of myself to you when I ask that you really didn't want to see the pic of myself.  * I didn't think you meant you would not give me a chance, after all, how can you resist me Well, I filled out my profile and made it as simple as I can so please don't think you can get me to play a game so you get what you want. Read my profile and respect it. I am happy to chat nothing more if you don't fit the bill. 

A little poetry?  Sure, why not.   In realms where love unfolds its gentle sway, A man finds bliss in night and sunlit day. Within the dance of hearts, a truth revealed, In female-led embrace, his joy's congealed.   Beneath her gaze, a beacon burning bright, He revels in the tender, guiding light. Her strength, a fortress that he gladly seeks, In every whispered word, the solace speaks.   No tyranny, but harmony they find, A partnership where hearts and souls entwined. He cherishes the power she bestows, A union blossoms, like a fragrant rose.   Her laughter, like a melody divine, Resounds within his heart, a sweet design. Together, they traverse life's winding road, In tandem, love's enchanting episode.   She leads with grace, a compass sure and true, He finds his purpose in her eyes of blue. Her wisdom shapes their journey through the years, A symphony of joy, dispelling fears.   He revels in the kindness she bestows, Her love, a river, steadily it flows. He willingly surrenders to her care, In tender moments, love is everywhere.   No shackles bind, but freedoms they unfold, In her embrace, a sanctuary bold. A partnership where balance finds its place, He celebrates the joys of her embrace.   In shared delight, their spirits intertwined, He savors every moment, love defined. A male perspective on this blessed path, In her-led love, he finds eternal warmth.  

ALL ABOUT MY CFNM TEA PARTIES  For years women have been sexually ified in magazines, on social media and in daily life. But what happens when the rôles are reversed, what happens when the tables are turned and men are ified by women?  Most alternative events ify women, but there is one particular event that reverses the rôles. This is the Clothed Female, Naked Male party. CFNM by definition gives the power back! Ladies of elegance and sophistication are cordially invited to take the opportunity to mingle with their peers whilst sipping their wine and enjoying the entertainment. Come & join the the AcadaMay CFNM Ladies' Tea Party every month for an afternoon of tea & wine with lashings of decadence. All whilst being served by underlings who will be there solely to serve and cater to our every whim. You will never want to go to a vanilla tea party again! Ladies, this is your chance to be served by men and ify them. CFNM includes activities that are not particularly oriented towards female dominance and superiority, but a modicum of humiliation and punishment to the nude men not behaving according to protocol would be expected, nay, encouraged! Gentlemen, this is your chance to parade yourself in an elegant social setting, to have the opportunity to serve and make yourself compliant to the request of any lady present without demur or backchat. If you wish to have this experience, come and join the ladies for an afternoon of CFNM.  Notes: My parties do not have the express aim of being a dating service, but naturally, long lasting connections are often made. The AcadaMay CFNM Ladies Tea Party is not generally suitable for couples as a fluid dynamic is necessary to achieve the perfect decadent dichotomy. It is also extremely inclusive and an absolutely safe and comfortable environment for single ladies attending on their own who wish to explore alternative scenarios in situation where they will be supported. As such, it is obviously not suitable for hen party like groups of ladies.** All guests (both male and female) at the Tea Party will either need to be known personally by myself or will need to contact me with some brief details about themselves and a face photo so I know who they are. All in the strictest confidence and with the ultimate of discretion ;)  The ACADAMAY - THE ONLY CFNM IN EUROPE.  THE FRIENDLIEST, CLASSIEST, MOST INCLUSIVE KINKY AFTERNOON EVER.  DISCERNING LADIES, RELAX AMONGST YOUR PEERS!  IMPECCABALE GENTLEMEN ONLY MAY APPLY TO SERVE THEIR SUPERIORS  BDSM FRIENDLY, BRING YOUR TOYS  HIGHEST DISCRETION AND PRIVACY GUARANTEED Email: acadamayevents@gmail.com SOME REVIEWS! This Tea Party was a riot💃🏽- so many worthy 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆! Thank you Mistress May once again for letting us have such a good time. Miss V Thank you for a lovely evening Master May. I was thrilled to win the Christmas entertainment. You and the ladies are as cool as fuckMark N0. 3 Thanks to @Master-May for some brilliant organisation. Female empowerment. Males humbled and made to serve in a variety of ways. For my part I was stripped, plugged, displayed and disciplined by some amazing dommes. Ordered and sometimes f***** to lie face down on the bed, my naked body would be casually groped, stroked and intimately touched by any number of ladies who took the fancy, and plenty did. I was reduced to nothing more than their playtoy - sexually ified, casually degraded, all while they sipped wine and made conversation with each other. A thoroughly humiliating experience and I've never felt more turned on in my entire life. DEE & Miss El Yes a great evening love it so many classy women ??Bum is now very sore ?? Jon  I just wanted to say a massive thank you for such a wonderful event last night! I had an absolutely fantastic time! I've been 3 times now and it's always the highlight of my month. Ms. A

I'm still in search of a LOCAL domestic to do house cleaning (dusting, bathroom cleaning, laundry, maybe some light cooking, etc.)  I'm also seeking a grunt to help Me clear out some useless stuff in the basement. Not to mention the ongoing search for a local special sub/slave to serve Me and who will learn his place. I have these listed separately because I know that not everyone can handle all that's involved and do it well.  If you can, let Me know. Note: I have a dog in case you have allergy issues. Serious inquiries only.

Coachvisits again           Coach came by for what I think was his second visit. He visited in December and this time we wanted to step it up a bit. He wanted fucked. He wanted my cum in his ass. In his words, he wanted treated the way he's treated women most of his life. Like an object for pleasure.   Since he had visited before, he clearly knew where to come and that he was going to be at the correct house. The first time that someone comes for a visit, I always meet them in the driveway. This time, I told him that I would open the garage door and he was to come into the garage. I told him that in the back of the garage, near the door entering the house, he would find a stack of milk cartons. On an empty milk carton was a printed sign.       "Useless pieces of human flesh must put all of their clothing in here before entering"         I told him that I may (or may not) close the garage door after he enters, but he is to be completely naked before entering the house.   As I saw his car pull down the driveway I opened the garage door. I'm sure his heart was racing. Probably beating out of his chest since he knew he was going to be stripping naked in the garage. He was probably praying that I would close the garage door and give him some privacy from the neighbors.   I heard him near the door entering the house and knew he was inside the garage. I waited a moment listening for some rustling of clothing being stripped off before I closed the garage door. A moment later he came thru the door naked as he had been instructed.   I was leaning on the couch playing with my cock. I beckoned him over as he dropped to his knees and took my cock in his mouth. I honestly can't remember but I think I had a white jockstrap on. At first I was making him lick, sniff, and suck my cock through the dirty jock strap. But eventually I removed it and threw it to the side.   He is a wonderful cocksucker. My already stiff cock instantly got harder as his tongue worked on my cock. Not that stripping in the garage wouldn't already remind him that he was nothing but my property during his visit, but I wanted to reinforce to him that he was absolutely sub human while visiting, so I put a dog collar around his neck. I grabbed the collar by each side and started guiding his mouth up and down on my cock.   His throat wasn't quite adjusted to the sensation of my cock yet, so as I pulled him deep down onto my cock he would gag. Of course this only made me chuckle at him. "Suck my cock, suck Daddy's cock, you know what to do, take that cock down your throat. Go ahead and choke on Daddy's cock."   His cock sucking skills are wonderful and after only being on my cock for a few minutes I felt the need to cum. But I had a lot more in store for him today. I pulled him off my cock and told him to lick my balls. I raised one leg so he could not only get to my balls but almost to my ass as well. Of course this only made me want to cum more.   Read the conclusion of the story at www.SirKel.top  

“The Lesson in the Red Chair – Part 3: Verbal Edging” T.L. Duncan He knelt in front of the red chair, shoulders tight, breath uneven, hands locked behind his back like that was the only thing stopping him from falling apart. And honestly? It probably was. I stayed behind him for a moment, letting silence claw at the edges of his self-control. Then I moved — not touching him — just stepping close enough for my presence to wrap around him like a velvet noose. “You’re trembling,” I said quietly. His exhale stuttered. “I’m not even touching you, and you’re already at the edge, aren’t you?” “Yes, Ma’am… I— I think so.” “You think?” I echoed with a soft laugh. “Oh no, sweetheart. You’re not thinking anything. You’re reacting.” He moaned under his breath — that small, broken sound a submissive makes when they’ve lost the ability to lie to themselves. I circled him slowly, deliberately, letting nothing but my voice tether him in place. “You know what I want?” I whispered. “I want to watch you come undone without a single finger laid on you.” His breath hitched as if he’d been struck. “That’s impossible,” he whispered. I leaned down, letting my lips come close to his ear without touching it. “Then why,” I murmured, “are you already right there?” His entire body shook. Good. I stepped in front of him, lowering myself into the red chair like a queen taking her rightful throne. He kept his eyes down, not daring to look. “Show me your face,” I commanded. He lifted it slowly — flushed cheeks, parted lips, pupils blown wide with need. “You’re sensitive,” I said, voice dipping into velvet dominance. “You’re needy. You’re desperate. And because I said nothing more than a whisper in your ear…” I paused, letting it sink in. “…you’re already fighting not to beg.” He swallowed hard. “Are you?” I asked. “Yes, Ma’am,” he confessed, almost choking on the truth. “Good. Then listen carefully.” I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, letting my voice soften into a dark, seductive purr. “You’re going to hover right at the brink for me. Not from touch. Not from permission. But because your body responds to my voice more than it responds to your own will.” His breath trembled — fast, shaky, frantic. “You feel it, don’t you? That pull right behind your hips?” He nodded. “That ache low in your stomach?” “Yes, Ma’am…” “That tightening right at the base of your spine?” His moan gave me the answer long before his words could. “That’s mine,” I whispered. “That reaction belongs to me.” He whimpered — quiet, helpless, undone. “Now breathe for me,” I instructed. He took a shaky breath in. “Slower.” He obeyed. “Good boy.” His knees wobbled. “One more,” I said. “Nice and slow.” He inhaled deeply — too deeply — and his whole body twitched. “There it is,” I murmured. “Right before your body tries to give you relief.” He let out a desperate noise. “Don’t you dare,” I warned, voice dropping to a threat that melted into his bones. “You don’t come. You don’t twitch. You don’t even think about release unless I say so.” His head fell forward as if the weight of that command alone nearly toppled him. I took his chin and lifted it again — slow, controlled, claiming. “Look at me when I ruin you with nothing but my words.” He obeyed. Barely. “Good,” I whispered. “Because now I’m going to talk you right to the edge… and keep you trembling on it until the only thing left in your world is my voice telling you no.” His lips parted. His breath broke. He was right there. And I hadn’t touched him once. He was trembling so hard his breath came in little broken fragments, his hands still locked behind his back, his eyes wide and fixed on me like I’d become the only anchor he had left. Good. He needed to be that undone for what came next. “Hands behind your back,” I said softly. “Don’t let them move.” “Yes… Ma’am…” “Now listen carefully,” I continued, settling deeper into the red chair. “You’re going to hold the position I tell you. Exactly. No shaking out your limbs, no shifting, no chasing comfort. Service is discipline, not relief.” He swallowed hard. He knew what that meant. He knew his body was already too unstable to make this easy. I smiled. “Present.” He immediately widened his knees, straightened his back, lifted his chest, and locked his gaze just below my chin — the perfect kneeling position. But his breath shivered, rattling through the tension. “Better,” I murmured. “But bring your shoulders back and open your throat.” He obeyed. His neck stretched beautifully when he lifted his chin, exposing everything from clavicle to pulse point. Vulnerable. Trusting. Swaying slightly from the lingering edge I’d whispered him into. “You’re still trembling,” I observed. “I… can’t help it, Ma’am…” I tilted my head with cool amusement. “You can. And you will. Hold your posture.” He tried. Gods, he tried — his whole body fighting the urge to fold forward. I let him struggle for a long moment before I said: “Now lower your gaze to the floor… but keep your head high. No collapsing.”