Vertical Line


Sensual servant in search of Sophisticated Mistresses to serve, Goddesses to worship and obey, or Sadistic Witches who turn men into their bitches. Developed a deep appreciation of the taller Dominant, a Lady at least five foot seven who, in heels, will exceed my height and put me in my inferior place when I am standing before her. Especially in need of disciplinarian to put me to exhausting work and pleasure and whip me into shape. I must become fitter and healthier to give you the very best possible service, if you delight in the challenge of reshaping a submissive to serve your exacting pleasures. And very much looking for a Lady open to a partner-in-crime to create a new lifestyle house or community as a permanent place in this alternative life. I have a longer FL profile, same name, just ask or tell me yours and I shall reach out there.

Recently I wrote about severe punishment and the image of a whipping to satisfy Mistress's discipline.

And some of you may have laughed.  Laughed at the idea of taking a whipping when I've declared I'm no masochist.

You're right, it is worth a laugh when you think of all the men, the self-declared submssives, who are first taken to the whip, thinking they can take its savagery, and turn into whining babies after a handful of strokes.  And THAT is my point.

I wrote of discipline and sacrificing my comfort for Mistress's discipline and demands.  SHE is the priority, her satisfaction, her desire, her pleasure and my fulfilment comes from hers.  If she wants to administer a whipping it is not the case of a BDSM scene play but a serious discipline to correct poor behaviour or just satisfy Mistress's hunger for the whip.  It is nothing to do with me except that my flesh is her worktop.

The distinction I see between a play scene and the discipline I imagine is the difference in those who don't have the capability to take the whip for play and those who must accept the whip even if they can't take it.

This is no play, this is submission.

Recently I believe I offended a Mistress I respected with an info-dump that sounded more like an over-eager babbling schoolboy rather than taking things slowly and respectfully.  

I have been hoping I may make up to her for this in the future and win her approval and acceptance, but that made me think about how she sees me and whether I might deserve a firmer hand to correct me.  The thought of severe punishment came to mind.

I'm not a fetishist, that whole scene of fetish play, scenes, costumes and devices leave me cold compared to the simpler, direct approach of a sophisticated natural Mistress and naked slave.

For many in the fetish scene the idea of a severe punishment might take a thousand and one tortuous forms, mostly inspired by bad Hollywood movies and porn.  That has no impact on me, and impact, emotional, psychological and sexual, is essential.

This left me with only one thought - the whipping.  The naked boy hanging in the stables in Mistress's home, the crack of the whip, the scream, the exhaustion and abandonment, alone, to reflect on my misbehaviour.

I am not a masochist and know how severe a whipping could be for me, but that's the point.  A slave must take the whip and serve the Mistress.  Nothing else matters.  I hope one day she will forgive me.

Failed to connect with potentially the only authentic natural non-fetish domme here who was open to talk, because I info-dumped on her with everything I could about myself.
You have been warned, slowly carefuly, patiently.
Mind ove cock.

Frustrating Time (story, or suggestion)

It had been a frustrating day for Mistress, things hadn't gone well with the builders extending the stables and assorted problems just weren't fix to her standards on the original schedule.  Frustrating.

As the builders's van rolled away down the driveway for the day Mistress snatched one of her floggers and headed for her study.

One of her naked houseboys was working cleaning the room as Mistress strode in.  Seeing her and the flogger he automatically arched his back to proffer his ass to her.  Without a word she swung her arm and laid the flogger hard on the slave's ass.

Once, twice, more times, she slashed the flogger back and forth across the trembling firm ass of the slave.

After twenty flaying strokes Mistress hesitated, shrugged.
"Better!"  She snapped to herself, pivoted on one heel and strode out of the room.

The slave gasped with the pain, but he was happy he's made life easier for Mistress.  He went back to work.

Let the Mistress pour her frustrations and anger on the slaves.
Let the Mistress achieve perfect composition.
Let the Mistress be happy.

Love The Mistress.
Serve The Mistress.
Obey The Mistress.

Profile age updated summer (what you call this damp squid a summer!?) 2024.


Mailbox seems down for the moment.

Will reply as soon as possible.

At your service.

More on FL nowadays than here. Same name, same craving to be of fullest service to discerning and sophisticated disciplinarians.

COVID again.
How can I serve while sneezing and aching.
Oh, hang on a minute, is that a smile I see on your face as you coil a whip in my direction/?
I want to be in perfect health to make your life perfect.

Christmas Day 2202 and a mild day outside so I have been set the task of housecleaning nude, the cock harnessed up on show, ball gag in mouth and a fair sized plug up the butt.


It feels so good to be valued and employed on useful assignments.


Except the electric ball shocker.  Got punished once for dropping the vacuum cleaner, and then off down into the basement for ninety mild strokes of the cane and a couple more zaps to remind me of my true nature and position in life of service.


Your Naked Manservant.


Happy Christmas.

In the Midnight Club, is the purpose of the iron cage there just to keep the naked slaves?  What is the fetish meaning of just waiting?

Or is the cage there to exhibit the slave(s) as the Superiors arrive.  They come to inspect the flesh, discuss what they plan for its fate that weekend and prepare themselves with a hot meal, fine wines and their selection of toys.

Is the cage more like an oven, for the slave to simmer in excitement at the weekend to-come, to loose its mind in frustration and heat up in readiness to serve its flesh up to the feast?
Been ill for several months.  I think the medication is making my mind go weird so I'm holding off on anything serious here until I'm ready to throw my naked body into service again with a clear head.

Having said that, if you are a discreet and discerning superior in need and willing to take charge of my service, or train you to your tastes in the NW then I may be open to persuasion.

Not into findom but happy to earn my keep in your hands, collar, leash, cage, whatever.
Currently nude in the front room of a house where my assignment is to polish seven pairs of boots and shoes.

If I succeed I am promised seventy firm strokes with the horsewhip down in the basement.

Sorry I can't put any of it on webcam the camera isn't working properly, but I'll try to show something if I can.

It's early Friday evening when I drive the closed Transit van into the ground of the large country house.  Rented for the long weekend by a friendly club of discreet enthusiasts who enjoy using submissives and slaves the way we are destined to be.

I park in the reserved place and step out, pulling my t-shirt off, kicking my trainers off and dropping my jeans off, all bundled onto the driver's seat.  I'm now left wearing just dark brief trunks, the bulge of my cock rises in anticipation as I caress it and walk to the back of the van.

I open the back doors for the six hooded men and boys, bare hairless skin glistening with their sweat and excitement.  Like me they only wear trunks, their hoods are blindfolded, their wrists cuffed up to their collars.  I tug them out one by one, arranging a line up, leashed collar-to-collar.  I fluff their cocks under their trunks, my other hand stroking my own in randy readiness.

All seven of us, sub, slave, switched, bi-curious, are here for the entire weekend, our fates doomed to our host's desires. We are the Wild Boys, the gang you invite to bang to exhaustion.

We've been watched and commented on by a couple of the guest hosts, I smile, hoping they appreciate the show as I lead out line-up into the house and the large ballroom that awaits us.

There are many guests, masters, mistresses, their pets, slaves, partners who comment on our entry while sipping their drinks.  We are assessed as I lead the line-up to the center of the room where a wide circle of seven whipping posts wait for us.

One by one I detach a Boy and shackle his wrists to the post, leaving one post for myself later.  I tell the audience about us and all they are free to do with our flesh for the weekend.

After shackling the last Boy I walk around the circle again yanking their trunks down, each Boy poses immediately, trained to perfection to arch his back, spread his legs, inviting the guests to enjoy the display of ass, cock, balls, eager and ready to serve masters' pleasures, whether whip or wank, fuck or flog we are their for the weekend.

Finally I reach my post tugging my trunks off and throwing them aside, reaching up for our host to shackle me to my doom.

It's Friday evening and the guests take their meal next door before returning to begin their entertainment, hour after hour they test our limits with whip, tawse, a hard spanking, prising our asses wide for cock or dildo, stroking our cocks without release to see which of us cum first from the fucking or the flogging, a cheer goes up as each Boy finally, involuntarily looses control and cums, his cum leaping in the air to the laughter of the guests.

The night wanes on and the guests tire of us, leaving us to slump sore, pained, exhausted on the floor in our own cum and mess overnight.

In the morning we're woken to scrub and clean the floor, the room and surroundings. Naked, still hooded with crawl to clean our place of punishment until midday and a brief meal taken like dogs as we kneel at the feet of our hosts, licking a few crumbs from their hands.

It's Saturday, a Match day and we're chained up at our posts again while the guests enjoy the Big Match in the next room.  At half-time break some stroll into to take their frustrations out on us with hard smacks to redden our sore ass cheeks and jerk our cocks up in preparation for the real fun after the match.

An hour later we are the show as we are used again to the guests' delight.  Guests taken different turns on each of us through the evening and night, measuring us and telling us what they plan to do with us at the next event, how we need to be better, or how well they enjoyed us today.

We hang slumps in our chains all night.  Sunday and a final clean-up, first the guests bring their night-stiffened cocks for us to suck dry, then we have to clean the mess and leave the room spotless.  We line up at the side of the room while it's inspected, a few spots here and there bring a few more cracks of the tawse across my ass and another cock to suck off as I was responsible for my Boys.

Sunday afternoon and I lock the van's doors with the Boys naked except for their hoods and chains, their limp cocks drained, their flesh red and sore. Sore, aching, exhausted and yet totally fulfilled that I've been of good service to our hosts and Master I look forward to the next long weekend, my heart already racing and cock throbbing in anticipation of being a Good Boy I smile and drive onward.


For many it's a fetish dress-up game to take on a new identity, in leather or latex, or be forced to cross-dress, to me it's my nudity, naked of every pretense, every form of identity - I am the naked flesh for the entertainment of my Master/Mistress.

So I'm also an exhibitionist.  I adore the idea of being approved of or trained by my dom/mme to serve their pleasure, to satisfy their amusement and to be made fitter (yes, I do need a weight and fitness trainer who can crack the whip for hours and tone me to perfection over a year of weekends under their discipline, hard work and use).

To me the dream is the power of nudity, kneeling before my naked master, his proud erection mesmerizing me and holding me in his thrall as he teaches me to serve and satisfy his authority.  And I kneel at his feet, my cock erect in salute to his/her supremacy and a flagpole telling him and everyone that I'm the randy submissive, standing up proud and eager to worship, eager to serve and obey.

Keep me hard by your command and power and my naked flesh is yours.  Let me salute you and teach me to please you, hour after hour to my exhaustion.

The Opposite of CHASTITY

Strap my cock up so it stands out.  No drugs, no tight bondage to damage the cock, do the opposite and let me show you what an eager, desperate, proud cock I am.  Smile at my cock as the signal that my flesh is yours to toy with.  Leave it untouched and watch as it waves in the air in tremors of desire to please you.


My naked submission, my bondage to your power and my untouched cock standing up to salute you.  My ultimate dream is total loss of control, to reach that magic point of complete surrender when I cum involuntarily.  Will it take hours or a whole weekend to tantalize and use me, will you take me to show others or invite them to use me and enjoy their pleasure in me, on me, around me, how long will I be able to hold off before loosing control and cumming for everyone's amusement?

Will I please you for your power to cause me to loose control, will I have to lick the floor clean of my cum at the end of the show?