Accuse me of having no manners. If you do, OI laugh at you. I have responded to many profiles out here over the many years and 9 out of 10 don't get a reply.  I basically say hi, mention a little about me, sometimes I mention they should read my profile, I ask questions. The other 1 out of 10 that do repley, usually seem to continue a back and forth in exchanging messages but whemn I bring up maybe meeting sometime or doing a chat online or something more interactive than sending the equivalent of email messages, people go silent. FRAUDS! That what this place chuck full of. I doubt anybody meets anyone anymore from this site in person. It is all fun and games and killing time and not being serious about meeting anyone. .

Time to clarify a few things, I guess. I wrote something to help clarify an age bracket I am interested in and why… but I guess on a sit like this I need to narrow it down a little further.   IF you were born with two X chromosomes, i.e. what the human race once called female… I have zero interest in dating you. If you live your life proud of those two X chromosomes we can be good friends!   IF you were born with one X and one Y chromosome, i.e. what the human race once called male… AND you live your life proudly as a fully blooded man, AND you are local, AND you are not married, OR living with someone, OR have a LTR significant other, AND you are gainfully employed (or independently wealthy and thus not needing employment) AND you have a residence (your mothers basement and brothers-in-laws garage do not count) AND you have transportation (Public electric scooters do not count) AND you like to chant Let’s Go BRANDON!… THEN, you have made it through the initial screening process and we can start chatting…   IF you have rainbows for anything other than the promise of God on your profile… you should probably not contact me. IF you like to wag your hand when you talk for reasons other than being Italian, you should probably not contact me. IF you have to practice speaking in high pitches, you should probably not contact me. IF you have to decide between apples and socks in your bra, you should probably not contact me (Unless the cause is cancer related) IF you need a tuck it bathing suit, you should probably not contact me. IF you have two XX chromosomes and look like a cancer patient for no reason, you should probably not contact me. IF you have a Y Chromosome and wear makeup and are not an actor or news anchor, you should probably not contact me. IF you are a bottom, realize you can contact me, but it will be friends only. (Same for most switches) IF you are far away, it is pretty pointless to contact me. I can keep going but I am getting bored and if this doesn’t get the point across I don’t’ know what will.   Oh and if you want to friend me… I am flattered… but maybe try speaking to me? I am not a check mark to tally up on your friends list, actually make a friend of me. Like a box pops up and asks you, do you know this person, are they a friend, and you click yes, and you haven’t read my profile, or spoken to me… and I am supposed to agree, and say, oh yeah, that imbecile is my buddy! Yeah, nope. I only bite if you like it…

Wenn dass Liebe ist, dann fass ich dich nicht an. Wenn das Liebe ist, kommst du nicht an mich ran. Wenn das Liebe ist, dann geh mir aus dem Weg. Wenn das Liebe ist, dann kommt sie für uns zu spät.   (Wenn das Liebe ist) (Wenn das Liebe ist) Beiß mir auf die Zunge, Schließ die Augen für mich Drück mir die Luft aus der Lunge, dann verrat' ich mich nicht Beiß mir auf die Zunge, denn der Schmerz aus mir spricht Reiß mir das Herz aus der Brust, dann erschlägt es dich

A note from me, K.  A bit of a look into our recent goings on. This was a big moment for me and I want to savor it. I had to break it up because it is quite a long entry.    M has been behaving really well lately! Behavior modification and control is my primary interest and all the implements of our lifestyle are just ways of helping me achieve that control. We have had the conversation regarding my desire for cuckolding before, many times. I bring it up quite a bit, I just can't get it out of my head. I need this for me. Back in 2019 M accompanied me on a few dates with potential bulls, but I don't think he ever thought it would seriously happen. This is very different from when I saw submissive clients professionally. I never ever had sex, I never ever gave head, I never even gave hand jobs. If my clients were allowed an orgasm, they would bring themselves off. M knew that when I finally allowed him sexual contact that we had taken a serious step. A premature ejaculator, he was and is a horrible lay and has never got better. I honestly didn’t expect him to. I got off on my control of him and absolute obedience, not his penis. And now while we have probably only had PIV sex 8 or 10 times in the last 3 years, I desire it more than ever, just not from my husband.  The pandemic drove us all inside and away from people we didn't know. The dates with potential bulls ended and I think M figured that was it. But, my desire for a bull has continued steadily building this entire time and has come to a tipping point. I decided to re-engage the subject in one very direct conversation with M last weekend. I have also decided to keep him on a more frequent chastity release schedule as positive reinforcement while we move forward in adjusting to our dynamic and while finding a bull for me again, in earnest. This conversation was for me to lay out my intentions in full.  We had scheduled this conversation for last Saturday a week before so that we would both be ready. We spent the morning at a farmers market searching for fresh produce that M would turn into a delicious dinner while I spent the rest of the day getting a massage and reading in our backyard garden. After dinner I suggested we move to the living room where I sat in the chair that I have for years been using for spankings and directed my husband to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of me. His lack of pants showed me his diaper was soaked and I put his pacifier in so he wouldn't be tempted to speak.  While he was sitting in front of me I explained to him first, that I loved him, that he had done nothing wrong, but that we would be renewing our search for a bull. His immediate reaction was to put his hand to his mouth in an effort to remove the pacifier so he could speak. I leaned forward, caught his hand and told him, “let me finish.” I explained to him that I would also be allowing him a more frequent release schedule from chastity, which drew out a smile behind his pacifier gag. I explained that his new permissions came with new expectations and that it was directly related to, as I put it, "returning to vigorously searching for a bull." His smile faded instantly which breaks my heart, but I have made my decision and know it will be best for us both; our lifestyle dynamic has many places left to go, but this is step one in getting there. I explained gently but firmly that he needed to get used to the idea of there being other men in our lives. I told him that I was completely finished treating him with kid gloves around cuckolding, that this was something I needed that he couldn't provide and that he knew that.  "M...we have come so far. I have emasculated you to a point you know that I could never take you seriously as a sexual partner. You know this and you know I need someone else, don't you?" He again lifts his arm to remove his pacifier gag so that he can speak. "Nope. Just nod your head, baby. Nod your head that you know I need this." 

The M/s lifestyle is an extreme form of structured relationship, and what makes it powerful is that it’s built on choice and consent. The surrender of power by the slave and the assumption of responsibility by the Master isn’t casual—it’s intentional, serious, and often lifelong. At its best, it creates a dynamic where both roles are deeply fulfilled: the Master gains purpose through leadership, structure, and control, while the slave gains purpose through service, clarity, and the comfort of being fully owned.   What stands out to me is that it magnifies truths about human connection that already exist in all relationships: people crave trust, guidance, being seen, and being valued. M/s strips away the pretense and makes those elements explicit, codified in rules, rituals, and expectations. It’s not easy—because maintaining authority and surrender 24/7 in a modern world takes enormous honesty, discipline, and commitment. But when it works, it creates a bond few other dynamics can match, one that is both practical and profoundly emotional.

Who I Am I believe Mastery begins with self-mastery. I know what I want. I know what it costs. I have the discipline to follow through. Structure isn't a constraint for me, it's the foundation of Mastery. Yield control of your body, behaviors, and attitudes to me, and I will apply equal discipline in sculpting you into my vision of feminine perfection: a strong, confident, beautiful domestic goddess who knows her place is to love, serve, and please her man, and knows exactly how to do all three while being held to the highest standards.  Such a treasure is rare, and to be valued accordingly.   What & Who I'm Looking For Conversation by message primarily.  Perhaps supporting someone in exploring their submission and its link to femininity and inner nature more deeply, whether that be just talking about it, coaching, or some degree of connection. Your understanding of where you are is not important, your interest in discussing it is. I am open to and interested in messaging with a range of women at different places in their understanding of themselves.  I also love hearing about woman's fantasies (even if they'd never consider living them out), as I write a good deal of erotica and am always looking for good plot material.  If you've got some to share, who knows, maybe they'll make it into my next novella. Some women may just want to chat with someone who genuinely knows this life and will talk about it honestly, without agenda, without pressure, and with equal interest in its non-sexual dimensions as in anything else. That has real value and I mean it when I say I'm glad to have it. Some are further along. They know what they are but haven't found the right container for it. They want something structured, something that builds over time, a real dynamic even if it lives at a distance. That interests me as well. And then there is the woman who knows, somewhere beneath the surface, exactly what she is but hasn't found someone who could be trusted with all of it. The need is there, but not the means. A woman who wants not just to be led but to be genuinely shaped. Who understands that submission at its deepest includes being remade over time by someone with a clear and considered vision of what she is and what she could become. That isn't something I take lightly. It is the most intimate thing I know how to do. I'm open to exploring that with the right person, but it is not something I will enter into lightly. If the right person and the right circumstances were to intersect to where something in-person were to eventually become possible, I'm open to that too. That isn't a promise or a goal I'm pushing toward. It simply exists as a possible future out on the horizon, honestly named for what it is. Wherever you fall in that range, if this life calls to you in a way you haven't quite been able to satisfy or understand, reach out. You don't need to have it figured out first. If you find me interesting but are interested in something else - long distance dynamic, roleplay, casual conversation, whatever - reach out.  Who knows, maybe you've thought of something I hadn't even considered. One thing worth knowing: my natural orientation is toward depth rather than breadth. While something is still finding its shape, genuine conversation can begin with more than one person and I welcome it. But I'm not built for maintaining multiple meaningful connections simultaneously. When real depth begins to develop with someone, my attention moves there and stays there. If that means a conversation with someone else has run its natural course, I'll say so directly rather than simply go quiet. That's what honesty looks like in practice. That kind of focused, undivided attention is simply what I prefer to give.

I don't really like doing "negative space" posts, but a few things:   I do not do "sessions".  I'm not a prodomme, I'm not interested in casual anything.  If I pursue something, its because I think it has potential for an ongoing dynamic of substance.  I'm also not a findomme, and have no interest in folks whose primary motivation is in that realm.  Doms - some of your cohort are giving you a seriously bad name.  Here's what keeps happening. A Dom contacts me, says they want to do the equivalent of talking shop.  Within a few exchanges they're pushing boundaries, either telling me they want to flip the and sub, or telling me how wonderful they are and bragging all around, or in one case, attempting to pathologize my own participation in the lifestyle and dismissing any woman with interests in this realm.  Guys, don't do this.  It just makes you look bad, and I'm happy to use the block button when things go down that path.  You're here on a site for finding people who complement  your preferred power orientation. Go forth! Pursue them!  Have fun!  Just leave the Dommes alone, we're not buying.  Geez, what else.   Please be ready to engage in conversation of substance.  I'm not looking to chat forever, but I am looking to chat until I can see that you are a consistent, reliable, engaging individual who can connect with me on a materially significant level.  I'm not going to invite you to my off-site world unless I feel you've proven those things, because I don't need fifteen "hi" messages a day blowing up my phone from folks who don't bother to string together a full sentence.    Ahh, venting complete.  I might even delete this later, but for the moment, it needed to be said.    

**Regarding potential bulls**, we do have some requirements and preferences: - Please be between 28 and 60 (other ages are considered if you bring the right "package" and energy) -DDF  - Somewhat local (within 2-3 hours of the Va Tech/Radford U area) - Okay with me being present during play time - Social drinkers/smokers okay - Size is a factor, the bigger the better    If you choose to reach out as a bull, communicate effectively and on an equal plane. You are not our Dom. If you come across with that kind of attitude before we decide to engage in that kind of play, you will be blocked. Send more than one or two lines in your message, but we don’t expect a novel. Unsolicited dick pics are an immediate hard NO and will result in a block—no exceptions. We will request them when we want them.   **Limits**   Her hard limits include anal, degradation/humiliation directed at her, face-slapping, foot play, and anything beyond light-to-moderate spanking.     We’re friendly, communicative people who value real connection. If what you’ve read here feels like a good fit, we’d love to hear from you.

Warning: This is a long rant...So I got my first really nasty message today regarding my political leanings.  He called me an ugly ignorant cunt among some other choice words that I don't even remember now. Funny thing is I am a cunt but I don't consider myself ugly but, of course, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  To each his own.  I don't expect to b everyone's cup of tea.  To this coward (he blocked me before I could go off on him lol)  I will say that insults like these tell me more about you than about myself.  The fact that you blocked me tells me you're probably a baby incel living in your mother's basement. This is all well and good when you're in your 20's but beyond that makes you pitiful. You were well over 30 ad clearly need to get fucked. To anyone else out in CS land I will say that you don't need to show me your ignorance by attacking my political beliefs or my physical appearance.  It's pretty fucking clear to anyone with at least one brain cell that this orange imbecile and his band of ass lickers are destroying our democracy in the worst dumpster fire this country has ever seen. We;re a laughingstock of the entire world. And just when you think he can't possibly do anything worse than he's already done he goes and does a few more detrimental things to the American people.  That inclues you ignorant repugnicans! You're worshipping a moron and you can't even see he's fucking with you, too!  Now that's what I call IGNORANT!!! In ending I will say that I'm glad this asshole showed his ass to me today because it gives me a chance to rant.  My final words are if you don't like my politics you need to scroll right because I don't want to know you anyway and it saves me the trouble of asking, unless of  course you're dumb enough to wear your ugly red maga hat in your profile pic. 

 I am at a point in my life where I have no interest in games. I’m searching for something real, something that can grow and prosper into a long-term, real-life Female-Led Relationship (FLR). I’m not looking for online fantasies or time-wasters. I am looking for a man whose passion for submission and surrender matches my passion for Dominance and control. I am a beautiful, bossy woman — confident, and unashamedly powerful. I know what I want, and I expect a man who knows how to follow direction and take pleasure in service. A man who can worship a woman’s power, not just admire it from afar. Fitness, discipline, and intellect are important to me. I keep myself in shape and expect a man who values his health as much as I do. I enjoy travel, fine dining, exploring cultures, and curating experiences that delight all the senses. I live a life of freedom and choice, and I am willing to share that with the right submissive man who earns his place by my side (and at my feet). The man I’m looking for should be respectful, self-aware, and able to balance strength with surrender. Emotional support, companionship, and intelligent conversation are just as valuable to me as physical service. You should be well-mannered, attentive, and serious about building something real. My tastes in kink are wide-ranging — Bondage, CFNM, tease and denial, chastity, worship, CBT, strap-on play, humiliation, and more — but my greatest pleasure comes from a submissive man who focuses on my enjoyment first and finds fulfillment in pleasing me. If you’re truly serious,  and understand the difference between fantasy and reality, then send me a message. Be prepared to introduce yourself properly and explain how you intend to serve and grow under my direction. Only quality men who crave a real FLR need apply.

On The Possibility of a Dream When I was 20something, I discovered Female Domination like a supernova in the night sky. It bathed my thoughts in a different light, it revealed hidden meanings in the way I felt, and it made it seem like anything was possible. It was strongly sexual - physical. Almost like a drug that charged me and made everything more vivid, more alive. In the center of this supernova was an archetypal vision - Woman, the essence of all I desired, the goal of all my efforts. The embodyment of all good and pleasure. Impressive as this was, I think it was incomplete. Now it's been 30 years, and with the help of several intelligent and perceptive Dominas, i can see more clearly. i realize that this raw power, the blind almost biological impulse, is made human, civilized, and meaningful by service - from bending to and serving a real woman. Not an archetype. A human being with her dreams, fears, hopes, and yes weaknesses. Does this mean I think my initial vision was wrong? No - I think that almost primeval response is the natural fuel for a rock-solid relationship. It is the capacity of seeing my partner as the channel, the embodyment of that feminine divine energy, that can charge our whole relationship and add layers of meaning "vanilla" relationships lack. Is this a dream? Maybe. But I know my soul is religious and its dream religion is the woman i would share my life with.

Welcome Home, Little Princess Are you looking for a place where you can truly be yourself? We are seeking a "little girl" princess who needs a new home and a fresh start. Here, you will have your very own princess room and a sister to talk to. Our household includes a supportive Daddy Dom, a Domme, and sister in a family dedicated to helping you adjust and transition.  You’ll eventually meet your "older sister," who recently graduated and now lives and works in the city. When she visits, she may even stay in your room, as it was once hers. Her journey wasn't easy. Daddy rescued her from people who suppressed her true self, forcing her to wear masculine clothes and hide her identity. When she first arrived, she struggled with guilt and even tried to run away, but Daddy kept his promise never to let her go back. Once she felt safe, she embraced her life here, leaving all responsibilities to Daddy. She flourished—attending cosmetology school, beginning her hormonal transition, and undergoing facial refinements. Daddy took her to fetish balls and dance clubs in beautiful dresses and heels, where she made many friends. She also loved helping with our lifestyle parties. Dressed in her maid outfit, she was the star of the house; guests always flocked to the party when they knew Daddy’s girl was serving. She also cherished her training sessions, where Daddy pushed her to her limits during their "in and out" workouts. Now that she has grown up and moved into the city, her room is open and waiting for Daddy’s next little girl.

I am so disappointed.  Again. Where are the REAL submissives, that will take a Mistress a priority, instead of when Im done work, project. If you know you can't commit to a Mistress a lot, then say so up front or don't bother wasting her time with lies. I want an obedient, submissive male that will obey and serve My pleasures.  I enjoy keeping my slave in bondage, and expect it to know its place even in vanilla. A sub/slave knows its true purpose is to serve, but if you are in a relationship, working full time, or just a computer slave, then say so or leave Me alone.   The lies, the bullshit, the waist of time is so frustrating. Ive given up twice, but come back again hoping to find a real slave searching for a life time Mistress.  I know red flags, but some of you are good liars or just too cowardly to meet.  Now im extra careful. why bother at all.............

What I truly seek....I seek 24/7 submission on a psychological level and physical submission at my Mistresses whim.  I do understand that is something that is built gradually over time in a relationship, once trust has been established. I’m drawn primarily to a loving and nurturing style of Domination. I enjoy pleasing and making my partners life easier.   I am not a masochist… I don’t seek pain for the sake of pain alone, but I do understand its value toward discipline and training. Otherwise I will trust that my well being will always be a priority.   I am very sensual and enjoy many kinds of play. I also understand that play is NOT the foundation of a strong D/s relationship. That comes through the strength of the power exchange that both people desire.  I admit I tend to be very private. I do not engage in groups or public play, and I prefer a completely vanilla exterior. I’m not into being cucked or treated like a slave. Nor do I seek to be a part of a stable of subs. My submission, attentions and adoration should be considered of value to the one I serve. I am after all, a man who is truly a pleaser.... someone who derives much of his own fulfillment from pleasing his Domme, and from giving over control to her. I am not interested in being some kind of mindless slave kept in a cage… but rather someone who is a person in his own right. I do have a quick mind and a sense of humor, and I don’t want to be afraid to use them at the appropriate times. I am looking for someone who will help me flourish under Her guidance and help me become the best version of me.   I would hope to become a best friend, a lover, a houseboy, Her personal servant, Her sensual slave and more.   Ideally, I would like to be with someone who is nearer to my age, intelligent, independent and knows what she wants from a D/s relationship. I am not looking for casual interactions, or for mere play sessions, but rather for my lifemate, with whom I hope to explore the ins and outs of Ds as well as the vanilla world for the rest of our lives... If most of this resonates then by all means reach out to me and let’s have a dialogue.   

hello I feel the need to write a post. I  have been on here trying to seek someone to help me maybe come out of my shell. Yet I get messages from so called men or Doms on here that think that a woman should bow down to them. Act there kings when there not. Some one here can't act like slave Masters, well slavery days have been long gone. Some on here want to just act out storie, if I wanted that I would read a book, or wat h a movie. I have brains and a strong willed femal. I know what I want and don't want. I will not be talked to like I'm less then a woma. yes I came on here to meet someone to help me come out of my shell. Yes I stated I wanted to try anal play, I have never had anal but open to trying tha. No o don't want bruised or have my boobs tied up for what pain, or marks on my boobs no, do you want you dick tied up and bruised?? Well done might but still. Just maybe I'm on the wrong sit. uggg this is frustratin!!!!!!!

Hi all, I know hardly anybody reads these but here goes. I'm an old biker, still ride. I smoke and drink, and if that puts you off then there isn't much point in reading further, cos I'm not changing in any hurry. I'm recently retired and have lots of free time on my hands. After 50 years of working it means I am getting bored a lot. So I'm looking for ways to make life more interesting. Any suggestions considered. Although I'm 67 now I'm still young at heart. 6'2", 12st, shaved head and long beard, usually dyed a daft colour. Currently green and blue. If anything about me intersts you feel free to message. Suggestions and questions welcome. Manners essential. If you managed to read this far, well done. 

since my last journal entry my wife only visited her bull once and then covid struck. However now we can mix again she has met him a few times, however his situation has changed somewhat. He now has a live in partner, she is also a keen swinger which is how he met her and very happy for Sue to visit them. Although Glenn is now 70 he's still vigorous and apparently his cock is still as big and hard as it always was which Sue enjoys telling me. His partner Debs is a divorced lady in her 40s with apparently a very slim figure.  Their latest meeting was the week before Christmas and Sue arranged to stay for 2 nights which she was really looking forward to. Glenn told her that a couple of parcels would arrive for her and she was to wear what they contained but not to open them until the day before she travelled to see him. When the day arrived we were both incredibly excited to see what was in the parcels. One parcel was a red velvet naughty santa dress which was fairly short and matching g string. The other parcel had a red studded dog collar, red fishnets  a red suspender belt and a long blonde wig. He told Sue she had to wear those, as well as her red thigh boots and leather corset on the 40 mile drive to his house. 

Let me be honest for a second… I don’t love submissive men because they’re “easy.” I love them because they know their place—and watching a grown man compete for the privilege of doing what I say? That’s my kind of entertainment. See, submissive men are like my personal comedy show and stress relief all in one. Need something? They’re already halfway out the door. Want attention? They’re hanging on my every word. I say “jump” and suddenly I’m getting a TED Talk on vertical efficiency. And don’t get it twisted—this isn’t charity work. I don’t “take care” of subs. I use them. For amusement. For service. For that sweet, sweet satisfaction of watching a man melt just because I smiled his way. So yeah… I love submissive men. They make life fun, they keep me entertained, and best of all? They never forget who the star of the show is. (Hint: it’s me.)

 Captive Desire   The night was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the house settling. Olivia Bennett sighed, shutting her laptop with a soft click. Midnight again. She stretched, rolling the tension from her shoulders, and glanced around the empty house.   Jake was away on business. Connor was at a sleepover.   It was just her.   And then—a sound.   A soft, deliberate thud from the garage.   Her pulse spiked. She sat still, listening, waiting. The house held its breath.   Another sound—this time a scrape, like something dragging across concrete.   Her heart hammered as she stood. Probably nothing. A box falling, the wind knocking over the broom—something harmless.   Still, she grabbed her phone and padded downstairs, flicking on the hallway light. The garage door loomed ahead.   She hesitated.   Then, hand trembling, she unlocked it and stepped into the cool, dimly lit space.   The scent of motor oil and dust filled her nose. Her car sat untouched. The shelves were undisturbed. Everything looked normal.   A sigh of relief left her lips—   And then the light went out.   Darkness swallowed her.   The shift in the air was immediate.   A presence.   Her breath hitched.   Before she could move, strong arms wrapped around her, yanking her back against a hard, unyielding chest. A gloved hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her scream.   Hot breath tickled her ear.   “Shhh,” a low, masculine voice murmured. “Don’t fight it.”   Her pulse slammed against her ribs.   She struggled, kicking, thrashing—but he was too strong.   A thick cloth pressed to her mouth, something sickly sweet invading her senses. Her limbs grew heavy. The world tilted.   Darkness.   She woke to a whisper against her skin.   The air was thick, warm, carrying the scent of something rich—cologne, leather, danger.   She stirred, wrists bound above her, ankles tied to the posts of a bed—his bed.   Her breath caught.   The room was dim, candlelit, casting flickering shadows against dark wooden walls.   And then—him.   A man, clad in all black, standing at the foot of the bed. A mask hid his face, smooth and featureless, but his presence was commanding.   Powerful.   He trailed a gloved hand down her leg, slow, possessive.   “I’ve been watching you, Olivia,” he murmured. “Waiting for the right moment.”   A shiver coursed through her.   She should be terrified. She was terrified. But beneath the fear, something darker stirred. Something she didn’t want to name.   He knew.   His fingers traced the delicate lace of her nightgown, teasing along the hem.   “I wonder,” he mused, voice velvety, “how long you’ll resist before you give in.”   She swallowed hard. “I—I won’t.”   He chuckled, low and knowing. “No?”   His hand moved higher.   Her breath hitched.   Her body betrayed her.   Heat pooled in her core, a flush rising to her skin.   He leaned closer, breath fanning over her lips. “Your body says otherwise.”   She turned her face away, but he caught her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze—though she couldn’t see his eyes, she felt his dominance.   “Tell me to stop,” he whispered.   She parted her lips—   But the words never came.   He hummed in approval. “That’s what I thought.”   And then his mouth was on her, claiming her.   Possessive. Insatiable.   A captor. A stranger. A master of her pleasure.   And she let him take her.   Over.   And over.   Until she forgot what it felt like to be free.  

I am not looking for casual, short term or long distance anything.  If that's you move along With you an an experienced Slave or Submissive on a daily basis ( not solely a play bottom for the bedroom = no thanks) who lives in London/Essex/Kent. Don't bother if you are more than 2 hours from those locations. 

Apparently it's time for a much needed journal entry, because my inbox is flooded with messages. A lot of nice messages from nice people with whom nice contact has already arisen, but unfortunately there are also a lot of people out there with (sexual) frustrations or worse. To make things clear to everyone who seeks me out to have a chat, if you have an extensive wishlist as to how you would like to be handled, kept or be treated, I am probably not for you. Submission derives from to submit! This essentially means that you follow and submit to Me and I decide where and how I am going to submit you. Being a slave, means to give up ones free will and give up his or her freedom. Eventhough this is in the BDSM way of life and completely voluntary, it does still mean that I get to kick you out to the curbes if you don't uphold our agreement. In other words, we've made a deal. You become my slave and I get to do with you however I please and you get nothing in return. Your reward lies in being My slave. Then a footnote for some nutcase I came across who felt he needed to fill my mailbox with his pedantic little finger. Nobody is forcing you to send me a message, nobody is telling you or forcing you to become my slave (it is a privilage and certainly not one for you to receive). A footnote in general: I literally receive 30 emails an hour. I am not at your disposal, but those who are chosen by me are at my disposal! Very important difference. This means that I will not respond when and how it suits you, but if and when it suits Me! That will do for now. If you reach out, either be polite or f*** off!  To all others, it is fun getting acquainted with you and talk to y'all soon. Greetings Mrs B.

SO,YES.I AM TOO MUCH. YOU ARE HERE TO CATER TO MY DESIRES.NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND,ACCEPT IT OR MOVE ON.JUST LET ME KNOW.

People may choose to participate in a consensual slave and Master/slave (M/s) household for a variety of reasons. Some may find power exchange and BDSM practices to be sexually and emotionally fulfilling. They may enjoy the feeling of submission and the pleasure that comes from serving and pleasing their partner. For some people, the BDSM lifestyle may be a way to explore their own desires and boundaries, and to express their individuality in a way that feels authentic to them. Others may enjoy the structure and discipline of a M/s dynamic. They may find that this lifestyle allows them to feel more organized, productive and focus. It could also provide a sense of security, knowing that they have a strong leader who guides them and makes decisions for them. Additionally, some people may find the roles and dynamics of a M/s household to be a way to explore and express their individuality. They may find that the lifestyle allows them to break free from societal norms and expectations, and to create a unique and fulfilling life for themselves. It is important to note that M/s households are different from abusive relationships and coercion. The foundation of all is based on mutual consent, trust, and communication. In a M/s household, both parties must be aware of and agree to the terms of the dynamic and all activities must be consensual. Ultimately, the motivations for participating in this type of lifestyle can be personal and unique to each individual. It is important to remember that everyone's experience and desires are different, and that there is no right or wrong way to participate in BDSM or a M/s lifestyle.

So I'm at the gym today  I witness this tall white male with an extremely fit body in these light blue tights with a tiny tiny bulge it was giving squirrel nuts. Now that's not the issue! I watch him go and put all the weights he could find on to the leg press thingamajiig, and I mean it was filled to the rim (no pun intended) He lays flat on his back and lift the weights with his legs. Now here is where things got interesting. He just lifted the weight (that was obviously to heavy) one time and strained for at least 10 minutes. I mean not one single rep done. Veins popped out of his forehead and sweating like a hydrated crackhead. I asked my friend should I go ask him if he would like to come to my BDSM party because he must just enjoy pain 

Columbus has been feeling… quiet lately. Not in the peaceful sense—more like the kind of silence that comes when there’s a lack of presence. A lack of structure. A lack of men who understand what it means to offer themselves with intention. I’ve been observing more than engaging, and what I see is a pattern—too many who talk about submission, very few who live it with consistency, discretion, and discipline. That’s where my attention has been shifting. I’ve been considering creating something more… curated. A private space designed for those who understand devotion beyond surface-level interaction. Not performative. Not chaotic. Structured, intentional, and centered around real standards. Access would not be given lightly. If you’re the kind of man who needs constant attention, reassurance, or direction just to function—you won’t last. But if you’re composed, self-managed, and understand that true submission is proven in silence just as much as in service… then perhaps you’ll find yourself exactly where you belong. Columbus may be quiet—but I won’t be for long. — Mistress Nikki Vixen

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

When Tenacity Becomes Entitlement There is a difference between being persistent and being entitled. That difference matters. Especially in BDSM spaces. Tenacity, when it is healthy, can be admirable. It can mean someone is patient, respectful, willing to learn, and capable of showing steady interest without demanding immediate reward. It can mean someone understands that trust takes time. It can mean they are willing to show up with consistency instead of trying to force instant intimacy. But too often, what some people call tenacity is not tenacity at all. It is pressure. It is impatience dressed up as devotion. It is someone deciding that because they want access, attention, conversation, affection, dominance, submission, or play, they are owed a path to it. They are not. No one is owed access to another person. Not because they sent a message. Not because they wrote a long introduction. Not because they have waited. Not because they believe they are “different.” Not because they think they would be a perfect match. Not because they call themselves submissive, dominant, switch, slave, Master, Mistress, Daddy, pet, little, or anything else. Interest does not create obligation. Desire does not override consent. Persistence does not erase a boundary. In BDSM, we talk often about consent during scenes. We talk about safewords, limits, negotiation, aftercare, and risk awareness. Those conversations are necessary. But consent does not begin when someone is tied to a cross, kneeling at someone’s feet, or negotiating play. Consent begins at first contact. It begins with whether a person wants to talk to you at all. That is where many people fail. They treat the first message as an opening move in a game they intend to win. If they do not get a response, they send another. If they are ignored, they try again somewhere else. If they are blocked, they create a new path. If they are told no, they look for a loophole. That is not dominance. That is not submission. That is not devotion. That is disrespect. A person who cannot respect a simple social boundary has no business asking for access to deeper, more vulnerable spaces. If someone says they are not interested, believe them. If someone does not respond, accept that silence as information. If someone declines a chat request, do not treat it as a challenge. If someone blocks you, that is not an invitation to find another way in. If someone has clearly stated on their profile how they want to be approached, and you ignore it, you have already answered the most important question about yourself. You have shown that your wants matter more to you than their boundaries. That is not a good look. And it is not a small thing. In BDSM, attention to detail matters. Respect matters. Self-control matters. The ability to hear “no” without spiraling, sulking, arguing, punishing, or pushing matters. These are not optional social graces. They are foundational skills. If you cannot handle not getting a reply to a message, how are you going to handle negotiation? If you cannot respect a profile, how are you going to respect limits? If you cannot accept a polite decline, how are you going to accept a safeword? If your first instinct after rejection is to push harder, you are not showing passion. You are showing a lack of emotional discipline. That does not build trust. It destroys it. The fantasy version of BDSM often rewards persistence. The determined suitor. The relentless dominant. The submissive who proves devotion by refusing to give up. The person who keeps chasing until the other person finally realizes they were the right choice all along. Real life does not work that way. Real people have boundaries, preferences, schedules, moods, histories, safety concerns, and instincts. Real people get to decide who they engage with. Real people are allowed to say no for any reason or no reason at all. And no, you do not have to like it. You do have to respect it. That is where maturity enters the room. A mature person can be disappointed without becoming manipulative. A mature person can feel rejected without becoming cruel. A mature person can want someone and still understand they are not entitled to that person. A mature person can move on. This is especially important for submissives who approach Dominants with the language of service. Service is not pestering someone until they give in. Service is not demanding that a Dominant manage your feelings because you did not get the response you wanted. Service is not showing up with a fantasy and expecting a stranger to step into it on command. Service begins with respect. Read the profile. Follow the instructions. Offer a thoughtful introduction. Accept the answer. And if there is no answer, accept that too. Dominants are not vending machines where you insert flattery and receive attention. Submissives are not auditioning for your approval because you have declared yourself dominant. Switches are not available simply because you are curious. Kink labels do not remove basic human courtesy. The same applies to Dominants who mistake aggression for authority. Sending commands to a stranger is not dominance. Calling someone pet names without permission is not dominance. Ignoring stated limits is not dominance. Acting offended because someone does not recognize your self-appointed title is not dominance. Dominance without consent is just behavior. And often, not very good behavior. A real power exchange requires trust. Trust requires safety. Safety requires respect. Respect requires the ability to stop. That last part is where many people reveal themselves. Can you stop when someone does not answer? Can you stop when someone says no? Can you stop when your ego wants one more message? Can you stop when you think you deserve an explanation? Can you stop when you are embarrassed? Can you stop when you are disappointed? That ability matters.