Reading people posting in their journal about various system errors here  Then reading others complain about people's profiles not being honest, where the profile says they are ready to relocate but they aren't or where the profile says they are into something but they are not willing to do that. Now wondering if some of that is also system bugs. Like the people who list as one sexual orientation but when you look at their Looking For it's in conflict with their stated gender and orientation, including when it's cis.  Now just found someone's journal and then their profile says, QUOTE: I sometimes accidentally add someone to my favorites. Because I read your profile it means nothing. I accidentally tap a profile. END OF QUOTE I believe her. So there's errors and slips of the finger and typos and some system bugs. But that said, there's definitely lots of less than honest profiles too   Or forgetfulness. Here's a challenge, post your favorite or else your top 3 examples of things from profiles but they should be funny, to lighten the mood, not infuriating things, would be my suggestion. My own example is I have seen literally DOZENS of profiles that have a few words and saying they just joined and then they say they will quote SOON... soon they promise, they'll add more details..   Then you look at their profile and it's been here for years and years... haha. If it was just a handful okay but so many say that, they say they just joined and will add more very soon, but no updates. Or course I also hear about approval taking months for profile revisions so mabye that gets folks to be reluctant to update their profile. I'm reluctant myself for same said reason..

My Heart Is a Lighthouse     My heart is a lighthouse.Inside it, a light that never goes out.Even when dim, it sends its signal —a soft pulse across the waves,trusting someone is out there,sailing slowly but surely toward me.They hold the key to the door.And when they arrive,they’ll know it was always theirs.

  I wrote that word control to you yesterday and it must have gotten deep into me. I woke up this morning so fucking wet and hot! Like I was right in the middle of some Daddy's masturbation...I was on my back, legs spread, rubbing my clit and mound, thinking of Daddy being under me, his cock rubbing my lips, telling me words of his encouragement and his control, deeply feeling my sexuality himself, telling me to spank my hood, which I never do, but it felt so right this morning, so I spanked it rhythmically, then back to massaging my clit and mound, going a bit harder and deeper with each back and forth, feeling Daddy's cock getting harder, his growls and voice deepening as he and I tuned into the groove of our joined pleasure.  I started spanking myself harder now, legs further apart, imagining his cock now dripping with pre-cum, inching it's way between my labia, feeling the pressure of just the head inside me, filling me just enough so we could be connected in passion. My mind slowly turning off, becoming totally his, his toy, his Daddy's precious love, as my rubbing got more robust, my internal dialogue starting to seep out into my voice with a moan a muffled cry for Daddy, Daddy, Daddy...until I hear his knowing! His understanding! His feeling! of me being ready, reaching the point of no return, the edge of the cliff of the frenzy for becoming one with him, giving myself to him, him owning me in this incredible throbbing pulsing intimacy of letting go into more Daddy Daddy Daddy I'm going to cum...and just faintly hear yes baby girl, yes, cum for me...and then I'm over the edge, flailing a bit, squirming, moving, thrusting to get his cock into my lips so he can feel my quaking my rupture, my cunt dripping with a gush, spasming...as Daddy holds me tight, firmly, let's me fly away with pleasure, in his arms, cumming strongly, with abandonment...his, found, grounded, complete, held...

Shared with me on this site:   Basic Rules1 The maleslave must always practice respect, whether in private or public, as directed For example, in public stand when Mistress enters the room and sit only after She is seated in private, drop to knees, nose to floor the moment Mistress enters the room, slave does not sit in Mistresss presence2 Be totally attentive For example, in public, open doors, offer Her slaves coat, She sits first, begins to eat first, and always ask permission to leave her presence in private, always try to anticipate Her desires and always respond with eager enthusiasm to complete any task She wants3 The maleslave should never speak unless spoken to, or unless anticipating the needs of his Mistress4 The slave will never sit with legs spread or slouch in a way typical of untrained males Good posture and decorum is a sign of respect5 The maleslave will never stare at a woman without her permission Unless the woman seeks eyecontact, the slave submissive will keep his eyes lowered at all times6 When walking with his Mistress, or any woman, the slave will keep his gait in step with hers, which usually means taking smaller steps The maleslave should always be at least 12 steps behind, but not too far because he must open all doors7 The slave must always be pleasant, never argue and never pout8 The maleslave surrenders control of how he spends his time, how he dresses, what he eats, where he sleeps, the friends or acquaintances he is allowed to keep9 The maleslave must remember that his orgasm does not belong to him but to his Mistress It is Hers to use or deny however she sees fit Ideally, slave must accept he may be left in permanent chastity, which he thanks Her for10 The maleslave may never touch his own genitals without the permission of his Mistress When washing, he must use a wash cloth or brush, never his hands11 The maleslave should never buy his own clothing without the guidance of his Mistress He should buy what pleases her, not what he likes12 When urinating, the maleslave will always sit on the toilet not toilet seat no exceptions13 The maleslave must submit to eating only submissive food selected by his Mistress whenever she requires it14 When a meal is over the slave must be quick to clear the table and wash the dishes15 The maleslave must always give his Mistress the first choice of everything She picks the channel on TV to watch, the restaurant to go to, the movie to see, the friends to entertain, etc16 The makeslave will perform all household chores for his dominate, to include but not limited t

    Hi, my name is Infinite Arms and I’m a masochist. I mean let’s be honest, you’ve got to be to keep attempting to navigate this shit hoping for a decent outcome.  I’m a physical masochist - being hit / given physical pain makes me happy (read very wet) but I’m also a massive emotional and psychological masochist.  The physical bit is easy enough - plenty of people will hit you with hitty things, less people with hit you with fisty things, even less people will cut you, break the occasional rib, but there are people.  The emotional and psychological masochism is the difficult part I’m finding, but my circumstances are probably a big factor in that. I’m married - we met through kink and we still do kink when life allows. But we both have other facets we indulge outside our relationship. I won’t tell you his, he can do that, but mine is very much focussed on someone being mean to me.  There are lots of levels of mean, physical pain is just one of them (a very fun one), but my masochism also leans a lot towards more emotional and psychological aspects and this is the bit I struggle to get in the extracurricular stuff.  So I prefer to play with people who are poly, or not looking for a full time relationship, because I have one of those and he’s wonderful and irreplaceable. I also don’t really like people who are doing it all behind their partners back, because that’s just hard work and it feels pretty crappy to be the one being cheated on so there’s that.  But - and here’s the unicorse poo part - I do need to have some kind of connection / dynamic / relationship for the emotional psychological stuff to be meaningful.  ification and degradation and just general worthlessness is one of my biggest kinks. And, maybe it’s just for me, but that doesn’t work if I have no level of connection with the person who’s making me that low. I like (well love to hate) to be told I can’t touch, or orgasm, in between play sessions. Admittedly I’m sometimes utterly shit at that but I’m working on it. And that doesn’t work if there’s not some sort of friendship or mutual appreciation going on.  In short, I don’t want to marry you, or have any detrimental impact on any relationship you are in. But I cannot promise I won’t be fond of you, because, for me at least, that tends to be a byproduct of having someone be mean to me in the aforementioned ways.  No real reason for this post other than a handy th

  A touch A kiss I didn’t know such passion could exist   A faint glow A little light A fire is now blazing in the night   A growl A grip A forward thrust of the hip   A whimper A moan A screaming of your name   A touch A kiss I didn’t know such passion could exist  

 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.  

Thoughs over the years upon reading Journals and Priofile comments: On the one hand, yes, there absolutely are people here who are outright scammers as well cases of people flat out being dishonest about what they want and what they're ready to do. No question. At the same time, words and phrases like "fakes" and "not serious" get so vague sometimes (exception: when sufficient context is provided by the person venting) that it can mean almost anything. Fortunately not in conservations with me, but just watching others, this is clear. So broad is the term, that 2 people can say it about each other and they can BOTH be correct...for one person not being serious oe nor being reality based means one thing, for the other, it means something else..Both can be correct accusing the other of it..while both might be honest. And of course easy to overapply to others, less than fairly.. It would serve all best if Profiles and Journals didn't just vent about fakes-and-flakes and "people who are not serious" but were a lot more, or at least a little more, specific. Not only because then we'd see that the journal or profile comment is not itself fakey-or-flaky or misrepresenting what was just a poor match...but simply because by stating parameters that were violated, clears up what you're looking for and what you're not looking for. What you think is reasonable and what you think is not. Then matches, for those of you looking for them, can have a better shot at success. Happy New Year and wishing people a safe, prosperous, and fulfilling year ahead :-)

Mr.McB writing from nyc   I am here seeking a very submissive housegirl a domestic slave a service minded girl a fully Owned property to be trained educated instructed for a longterm position in my life and in my home   I am retired  healthy  experienced  in Owning and training a girl  both or which  I have done  very successfully   I have a home here in nyc and can provide a strict safe place for a girl to learn how best to live  her life  in strict slavery the kind of life for which she was born   some sexual service is required  oral anal and body worship   but the girls behavior is whats most important to me my preference is for a slave to be kept in a state of  orgasm restriction for  extended periods of time   at the same time her most Respectful Obedience  will be worked on   a girls Obedience  is a special interest of mine as I am a Disciplinarian  so I am always looking  for a reason  to use the paddle   I will not hesitate to correct whenever she does not live up to the standards expected of her   I am also an everyday spanker something she will get simply  because a spanking  is always needed   and there will be oversight of her activities meaning all of them   if this strikes any interest? please say hello thank you for reading MstrB

So many Doms who contact me here always seem to assume I'm full of all these unfulfilled fantasies about kink and a dom sub dynamic that are  unrealized, offering their cocks, hands, and sometimes even their minds to lead me down the path into my subconscious of dark desires.  Maybe those kind of offers entice other women on this site, ones who have had only dreams of scratching their itches, so to speak, but  hey fellas, if you have read my profile and my journals, you would know I have a great lifetime of experience for us to begin with.  That alone should elevate our initial conversations above the fray.  What I'm seeking here, what I'm seeking from you, is your extra special sauce and inner sanctum of domination, control, sensuality, experiences, etc. that all impact you and bring you to this current wonderful state of being you in all your learned kink glory. So that we may dive together into the depth that our conjoined minds and sexuality and dominance and submission can open before us when we conspire to love and serve and liberate to build a fortress of dynamic.  So please don't ask me to tell you a dark longing I've held my tongue about, because the most sexy longing I'm desiring most is to have you  meld your mind and body and spirit into me so I can become truly yours forever. 

If you are Mine, I want to touch you but not just your flesh, not simply the surface of you. I want to touch you at a deapth you may have never known. I want to jump off the cliff and swim with you in the deep waters of life because I know the shallow enis is simply that, shallow, and that will never take us to where we need to go. I do not fear the leap into the deep unknown. I do not want the facades. I do not want to pretend at life or love. Fiction has no value to me in our reality. Give me the mess, the struggle, the fear, the truth beyond the mask that we give the world to be able to traverse it. No, we will swin in the deep end because its in the deep where the truth of who we are will be seen and all that has chiseled our shape. I want to touch your mind, your soul, your hidden self and the one you share with the world. I want to inspire you to find and follow your passions and not subvert or hide them. To find your purpose, embrace it and claim your birthright. I want to ignite passionate conversations and talk all night about any topic that touched your heart or sparked your mind. I want to teach you, guide you and be inspired by you. I want to encourage you to understand different perspectives, different realities, a new kind of truth. I want to challenge you to love your truth and find freedom in your authenticity. I want to show you that you can be loved for the dark, hidden corners that hou have spent a lifetime hoping people will not notice and not despite them. I want to show that being who you are is valid, acceptable, beautiful and nobel. And I want you to have the courage to challenge me if you see some other side of the prism of life, one I might have missed, one that I might love. I want to grow. I want us to evolve individually and together. I want to light the fire within us and be warmed by its flam and embers. To speak our truth and fall in love with it. I want to motivate your to go inward and reflect. Find your core and see the beauty of it through my eyes and your own. I want to discover your sense of humor. Your sarcasm. Your wit. Your intelligence. Because I want to laugh hard with you. I want you to read to me from your favorite books, share your favorite movies, fuel my understanding of you. I want to read to you from my favorite books and share what has touched my heart through its stories and artistry. I want to timulate your mind. I want you to be curious. About life. About me. About the universand how you fit in the tapestry of the Universe. I want to touch every crevice of your mind, your body, your soul. I want you to touch all of me too. I want to show you what the word safe really means and prove to you that you are safe in my hands. I want you to to never doubt why I chose to own you. I want you to feel the pride of being owned. I want us to never wish for more than our cherished reality. Sustainably. I want to prove that I am worth and so are you, no matter what that might look like to any outsider..   

His results from bdsmtest.org 100% Master/Mistress  100% Sadist  100% Dominant  100% Degrader  88% Rigger  88% Voyeur  81% Owner  80% Primal (Hunter)  75% Non-monogamist  67% Experimentalist  64% Brat tamer  17% Exhibitionist  Her results from bdsmtest.org 100% Dominant  100% Rigger  94% Sadist  94% Master/Mistress  91% Voyeur  88% Degrader  81% Brat tamer  79% Experimentalist  76% Non-monogamist  75% Primal (Hunter)  70% Owner  46% Ageplayer  40% Exhibitionist  26% Daddy/Mommy  13% Vanilla  5% Submissive   

What's in a name? Obligatory attention getting headline: Every time you say your Dom's name, you reinforce everything he is to you. I've been in this life for a long time now. I've been called many things, from Master/Daddy to everything else under the sun. What you call your Dom isn't just a cute pet name, it reinforces what he is to you every time you say it. Each name means something different, and when you use it, you’re shaping the dynamic between you and your owner. So here's what these names mean both to you, and to Them.   Sir Lets start with the basics. Here is how and when to use your Dom's name: - Yes, Sir - No, Sir - Please, Sir - Thank you, Sir - Sorry, Sir - Sir, may i... Sir is an honorary given to any random Dom out of respect to the position, not necessarily the person. Should the individual in the Dom position lose your respect, you may stop referring to him with that honorary title. The respect must be lost though, saying "it must be earned" is no excuse. While some, after collaring, choose to keep calling their Dom "Sir", most choose a new title that more clearly emphasizes their relationship roles.   Master When you call your owner Master, you’re telling him you want to feel possessed, controlled, and kept. It’s the title you choose to call your owner when surrender is what you crave, handing yourself over fully and feeling the thrill of being someone else's prized possession.   Daddy When you call your owner Daddy, you’re asking for more than just authority. you’re asking for safety, nurturing, and guidance. It’s discipline wrapped in comfort. You’re saying, “I’m yours, but I’m also protected.” For many, that mix of strength and softness is exactly what they need. There’s often a paternal craving behind it too, which is nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about. Embrace your desire to be cared for, corrected, and cherished the way only a protective father could.   my Lord When you call your owner my Lord, you’re putting him above you. Not just as your Dominant, but as someone you revere. It’s about hierarchy, about structure, about finding peace in knowing your place beneath his dominion. It’s old-fashioned, sure, but it carries a kind of ritual weight that can be deeply grounding.   Sire When you call your owner Sire, you’re giving him the tone of nobility, but it’s not quite the same as My Lord. My Lord is reverent, almost worshipful; it places him above you in a way that feels ceremonial, tied to the safety you find in his dominion. Sire, on the other hand, leans heavier into command and authority. It’s the word subjaspects would use for a king, not just a nobleman, but the one who rules, whose word carries absolute weight. Where My Lord can feel romantic or devotional, Sire feels sharper, more commanding. Saying it is like kneeling at the foot of the throne and swearing loyalty, not just offering service.   Mister (Lastname) When you call your owner Mr. , you’re looking at him as a figure of moral authority. It’s like the strict teacher who praises when you do well and corraspects you when you don’t. You live for his approval, and you fear his disappointment. Punishment becomes penance; obedience becomes devotion.   Vicar When you call your owner Vicar, you’re placing him in the role of a guide, someone who leads you not just with rules, but with care. It’s a name that carries a sacred weight. Correction feels like absolution, rules feel like doctrine, and obedience becomes something almost holy. You’re not just following him, you’re finding both forgiveness and salvation through him.   Maestro This is usually for the more latin-oriented as Maestro is a Spanish name. The slave who called me this was a beautiful Nicaraguan who I had named "bonita". When you call your owner Maestro, you’re seeing him not just as someone in control, but as someone creating something with that control. Maestron litterally translates to "Teacher", but think conductor, artist, master craftsman. Think of yourself as a blank canvas, and your owner as the one who will shape you.   Every name you choose carries weight: Sir is about respect, and the starting point before a deeper title is chosen. Master is about possession. Daddy is about protection and nurturing. My Lord is about reverence. Sire is about command, your loyalty sworn to a ruler whose word is absolute. Mr. Lastname is about moral authority.</

By believing that submission must be pursued, to any degree, is to reframe dominance and submission as a typical relationship and its not. Dominance doesnt pursue. Submission doesnt need to be pursued. Submission comes to dominance in this dynamic. It has to. Submission is given, won over even, but the same goes for dominance. As much as she must be convinced by his dominance, he must believe her submission meets his needs or can be molded to do so. What remains is the initial approach, and it is simply ego on the part of the submissive to believe what she offers is more important, more valuable and harder to come by, than what he offers. Consider how many suitors a submissive no doubt has flood her inbox here, how many obvious frauds, bullshit artists, misogynists, egotists etc that she has cast a dismissive eye over. What happens if/when you find one that calls to you? Will you wait in the hope or expectation he will approach, or will you decide to present to him? Of course, this probably explains why the place by my side is empty and I have to fetch my own pipe and slippers. Such is life.

February 9, 2024 - Sextoy69 visits when he gets off work to get ME off !     This is probably going to be a quick story. But things were a bit different today.   Normally when sextoy69 comes over for a visit he comes immediately after work. We head upstairs and he strips naked in the bedroom. Yes, there are a few guys that don't strip immediately upon arrival at the house, and he is one of them. Normally I play with his ass for a while with my fingers and toys while he is on all fours with his face and chest smashed into the bed mattress and his ass high in the air.   This time instead of arriving at 3:00, he had scheduled a bit later, at 5:30 today. When he arrived (promptly at 5:30) I asked if he worked overtime. He explained he went out and had a few beers with some coworkers after work. We headed upstairs and he took a detour to the bathroom as he often does. I heard him peeing for what sounded like an eternity. Peeing and peeing and peeing. I would imagine, from what I heard, he had about 3 beers. LOL   When he came into the bedroom, he was probably prepared to "assume the position" so that I could play with his ass. but I was already laying naked, face up, on the bed. I told him to come around to this side of the bed, climb up on all fours, and suck my cock as I play with his ass. I'm not sure if we've ever been in this position before. But I thought let's give it a try. Immediately after stripping naked he climbed on the bed and started sucking my cock.   Read the rest of the story at www.SirKel.top

Cookies. I promised several people that, if this adventure happened, I would write it up and share it in my journal. well, it indeed did happen last evening, Saturday, but not exactly as I thought I had it planned.  The set up for this story is that I did some work for a woman living in a over 55 community and only charged her for the material costs which I commonly do when I first work for someone I want them to like the work and not worry about the price. she was very grateful and gave me one of those looks like she was ready to pay me back in a way if you know what I mean and then she said: I'm sure you can think of something that I can do for you and shot me a wicked smile I knew that was my opportunity so I very calmly said: Willl you bake me pecan chocolate chip cookies? She let out what could only be described as a horse laugh, which I'm sure they heard in the adjoining units on either side. and then I followed up with, but that's not all, I want you to bake those cookies naked with 8 inch by heels, fishnet stockings and garter and a bright red ball gag. there was a long pause, kind of like dead air on a radio station and she finally opened her mouth and said you've got to be kidding! I'm not burning my boobs so that you can get off on some weird fetish! And I said OK what about wearing a tight swea and no bra? I expected another flat out no response but she said yes I think I could do that. But I'll also be wearing a skirt, nothing less than that, and no ball gag! And if That isn't good enough then you can go bake your own cookies! While it wasn't what I'd hoped for, I was still going to get my cookies, so on Saturday I came over with the ingredients she told me to get, and I sat in her kitchen, drinking coffee, while she walked back-and-forth across her kitchen in her very tight, white fuzzy sweater, and a very tight short leather skirt, plus stockings and heels, and she was an absolute delight to view. The blush in her cheeks said it all. But the best part was, she was actually baking my cookies! Once they were bagged, she Pulled them from the oven, tucked the tray up under her breasts and she said, would you like a cookie little boy? YES, Yes I would! then I asked so are all those cookies in the tray mine? Or should I ask if everything on the tray is mine? She just smiled and put the tray on the counter. She grabbed me by the hand, pulled me down the hall. We walked into her bedroom and she took off her sweater., God, those were better than any cookies!  We did all sorts of things that evening and late into the night. Considerind we're both in our mid to late 60s, so it wasn't like your first high school sex, in the back of your dad's car, but it was close.  in the morning, I woke up to the sun streaming in on my face lying next to a woman who still had her stockings and garter belt on, my head nestled between her large breasts, one of her arms underneath me,the other around my neck, and I thought to myself.... life is good! Lou  

Come be a perv and sneek a peek!Come take a look at my page...Show your appreciation!👇 https://www.etsy.com/shop/MistrixMarieTraining

Embracing my slumber, I feel as though I'm in a dream  The softness of your caress, has me feeling so serene I want to open my eyes to make sure you are real  I will not venture, because I don't want to interrupt what I feel  The moisture begins to flow as my body loses control  You have me at this point and I will never say no  Relaxation and anxiety are about to collide  Multi orgasmic pleasure, I will never hide  WOW!

Why I Use Copy & Paste for My Intro Messages on FetLife (And No, It’s Not Because I’m Lazy... Mostly) Alright, let’s talk about the elephant in the chatroom: yes, I use a copy-and-paste message when I reach out to people on FetLife. There. I said it. Now before you clutch your pearls or sharpen your pitchfork, let me explain. As a man on this site, I’ve learned a hard truth—we don’t exactly have inboxes overflowing with attention. I log in, check my messages, and... crickets. Meanwhile, women on here need a personal assistant just to scroll through the "Hi sexy" DMs they get in an hour. I’m over here sending out introductions like I’m applying for internships in the kink community. Let’s be real: the ratio of men to women on this site isn’t fair. I’m not bitter, but if FetLife was a nightclub, the dudes would be forming a line out the door while the ladies are getting free drinks and VIP bracelets just for showing up. So, rather than write a brand new, handcrafted message every single time—like I’m writing a love letter to Juliet—I decided to work smarter. Enter: my trusty, respectful, and not-creepy copy-and-paste message. It’s polite, genuine, and has better grammar than most Craigslist ads. I took the time to make it sound like me (charming and slightly awkward), and then I saved it—because ain’t nobody got time to rewrite it 30 times a week. If someone replies? Awesome. Now we’re in business, and I switch to actual conversation mode like a decent human. Is it a little formulaic? Sure. But it’s not cold or robotic. It’s just my way of getting in the door without burning out or typing until my fingers fall off. It’s like using the same pickup line at a bar—it might be recycled, but if it makes you smile and we start vibing, who cares?   Bottom line: I use copy and paste because it’s efficient, not because I don’t care. Trust me, if I’m messaging you, I’ve read your profile and think there’s potential. I just don’t think you need a custom sonnet to say, “Hi, I liked your vibe and would love to chat.”

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. 

My car died.  It died the same day I closed on my new house/dungeon pair.  The cobblestones of my new town ate the last reserves that the power steering pump had.  I got back to the rental, 50 miles East with a ride from a friend.  I sat there for 2 weeks, trying to put together enough crap to move in.  Borrowed a truck from a friend in the local-to-my-rental, got one load made with the washer/dryer stack, got them into the new place, not installed. got back, didn't get another load for another week, on borrowed trailer, called my soon-so-be-exlandlady, who pulled the trailer, got me over with half my stuff. two weeks later, we got a 3rd load, so I am mostly moved in.   I then started in on settling down, straightening up the debris.  The dungeon will need lots of work, plenty of cash, which I have none of.  Stay tuned!

Helpful hints: I am poly. This means I may have other subs or lovers. Or none. According to my desires.You don't have to be poly but I will not change who I am to be with anyone. I enjoy men and women and the full spectrum in between. My interests aren't about what's between your legs so much as what is in your mind, heart and soul. I do enjoy naughty bits but I prefer to get to know you first. See if we are a good match. I host local kink events. I have a busy and fulfilling life. In order to get my attentions you will have to be interesting and should put your best foot forward. I enjoy intelligent people, no matter if they are verbose or quiet. If you're too verbose, I do have a ball gag. :) I live in Alaska. Yes it's cold here. Yes it's dark here. Yes I see the aurora's outside my house. Yes it's full of wildlife and quite amazing. Yes it's a bucket list destination. I'm happy to talk about it but if that's all you want to know then watch the discovery channel. Good luck.  

Self-Education I’ve been on websites like this one for quite a few years but was only sporadically active. I was looking for information about things as well as for other people to talk with about it. But I was only sporadically active. Two or three times, I thought I had it figured out. I thought I knew what it was that caught my interest that led to my fetishes. Then I realized that some of those fetishes were more than fetishes. So I explored more. And the more I explored, the more I discovered that I liked or at least found intriguing. But I began to see a common thread between the fetishes, they all fit together. And they fit so well, I made a crossword grid out of them. lol I would put up pictures and take them down. I would make my profile out to be a personal ads and then change the wording later. A little frustrated that I didn’t know what to do with all of this knowledge and information I had been seeking and had now found, I threw my hands up in the air. What good was all of it if I didn’t know what to do with it? If I couldn’t answer the questions of what I liked and why? But I was never going to find the answers. And the reason why is because I was looking for them. I was behaving like an addict. And that needed to stop. There wasn’t anything wrong with liking and even liking something a lot. But if it was the greatest thoughts in my head, then it needed to be the most important thing in my life. It wasn’t until I stopped thinking about what I liked and what I wanted that it all began to fall into place. I began to read what others liked and wanted and what they posted. I would focus in on the postings of dominant women as they were ones I saw myself as a counterpart to. I’m one of millions who read the postings of dominant women. The first time I read these postings, I tried to imagine how I could fit into what they were saying. But I wasn’t finding that pathway in their words. At that moment, it really started to define itself. And things I guess I already knew were becoming clear. I’m not gonna be right for everyone. Lots of dominant women will not be right for me. I do know what I want and I do know what I like. And I’ll gladly share those things with someone in private messaging. (Although I fully understand that you can discover a lot of my kinks and interests and ideals and all on this profile. But that would require you to look at my profile, top to bottom. And a lot of people don’t do that on here. That’s something else I’ve learned.) The basis of everything I needed I already had when I made a profile on this site years ago. It was just a matter of continuing to learn. Being submissive, or believing myself submissive, was something I knew. But its definition I didn’t understand. And before I could be educated by anyone, I needed to do most of that education myself. My focus needs to be on her. It’s my rightful place. And it’s all about what feels natural because what feels natural is what IS natural. I’m not below her. She’s not above me. But the truth is SHE DOESN’T NEED ME. I need to show her why she would need me. And because she doesn’t need me, if she keeps me in her life, that is a privilege. I want to be useful to her. I want her to see me as being useful. This comes from actions. Actions first. Words second. Strong and confident woman deserves respect. My goal is always to make her happy and to keep her happy. To put her happiness on a pedestal. This doesn’t require her to be dominant and me to be submissive. It should be natural and feel that way. Make her life easier. Take her stresses away. Take her energy-draining responsibilities away from her. She wants to feel safe with you. If she doesn’t feel safe, why would she need you? Make her life ... better. This is where I’m at in the journey for knowledge. This is the point I have reached with my self-education. Many more lessons to learn yet.  

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

Don't give up my first journal. Hi I'm mistress muse and I am dominant to my wolf.  If there is one thing that being on the scene has taught me, it would be to never give up. I spent so long in fruitless vanilla relationships that although, true, filled with love and all the nice things that people claim to experience in these things it also carried with it a weight. It was like a brick in my chest, a wrong feeling, an alone feeling, a dark hopeless feeling, a sinking if you will. Which in a way was true I was drowning I was drowning in self doubt I was drowning in a sea of misunderstandings and depravity. The love I craved seemed so taboo it almost seemed impossible to obtain. I may have been looking in the wrong places but even kinky people I've known for years on the scene would often look baffled if I piped up some of my perversions. I then met someone I had known in a completely vanilla setting... So vanilla in fact even he hadn't really noticed me before... a friend who knew of his kinks thought we would be quite suited. Looking back now I find it amusing that both him and I scoffed at the idea but Kinky curiosity got the better of us. There was this feeling everytime we spoke... A feeling of understanding... A good feeling... A weightless feeling soon combined with a feeling of want. I wanted this man... I was fucking getting him. On the scene for years he has been known as z3ro (zero) but ladies gents and pets let me tell you this he is anything but a zero so from the very beginning I have refused to use this name for him. He became my Wølf, my alpha bitch, my sub, my friend, my mirror and my PARTNER. I have used this term quite freely in the past but with him it's different. He is my partner in crime he is my play partner he is my intellectual chewing gum. He turns my head and the way my brain works. I never thought it was possible to find someone to just get me and be able to match my sadistic evil streak. To find someone on the same interlectual level as me. For me to find someone just as twisted as me. For this I am grateful and this is why my wisdom(me) for the day is this.... JUST DON'T GIVE UP

To be a Domme   This ideology (that you have to peg someone to dominate them) is everything that is wrong with femdom porn.   I don’t need to penetrate anything other than your mind to dominate you.   Dominance is not about penetration.   Exchanging power is not about penetration.   I assert my dominance by being dominant.   I can lay back, have you penetrate me, and I am still in control simply because I am dominant.   I can suck your cock, have your cock penetrate my mouth, and I am still in control simply because I am dominant.   I can go on all fours, have your cock penetrate my ass, and I am still in control simply because I am dominant.   No act is inherently dominant or submissive.  Most especially penetration.   BDSM and D/s is not about the things that you can do - it is how you love.

 Getting to know someone ! Funny how getting to know someone can be a real task. I mean you don’t have any idea of the person on the other end. Now if they have a bio you may know a little about them but omg that is just a tip of who they are or what they want and desire. What I am finding is everyone is afraid to open up and say what they want or who they are out of fear you won’t understand or you will judge them. This is for good reason to. How many times has someone said I like it when you pee on me only to hear that’s gross. No one wants to hear their kink is gross and there are all kinds of kink out there from daddy daughter to playing like a puppy or dressing like a pony and pulling a carriage. Some enjoy being strung up and whipped like a slave from the old times some like being cut. All in all there are thousands of kinks and no one should be shamed for what yours is and you should not be ashamed to share it with those who will help you in your journey, now that the kink is out of the way comes the really hard part. How do you open up about the everyday you. The one who works and lives or has kids or is married and open. The one who is not happy and just wants to have someone care about them again. How do you talk about that to a stranger do they are not a stranger anymore. You have to take chances. You have to just hope and take a leap of faith. Will you get hurt sometimes yes you will but without hurt and pain there can be no pleasure and happiness. So with that I ask how do you get to know a person ? This is from my fet page and I would ask do you think I am a gentleman or a sex fiend. After all both sights are about sex BDSM to be exact. Not talking about sex would imply you are vanilla and don’t belong here. So with that said enjoy getting to know someone.

  Bitter Sweet Symphony   THE VERVE  Well I never pray But tonight I'm on my knees yeahI need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeahI let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind, I feel free nowBut the airways are clean and there's nobody singing to me nowNo change, I can changeI can change, I can changeBut I'm here in my moldI am here in my moldAnd I'm a million different peopleFrom one day to the nextI can't change my moldNo, no, no, no, noI can't changeI can't change

A MERRY AND SAFE HOLIDAY SEASON TO ALL! It really sucks to say that I'm struggling right now. I know a lot of people have this perception that Dominants are always confident, without flaws, or that we've got our shit together. Hahaha! Not to burst anyone's bubble, but we're human, too. I'm not sure if I'm self-sabotaging or if this is how my depression is manifesting these days. <Blah> but a <laugh> as well. It's Christmas Eve, and though I didn't send my wish list off to Santa, maybe a bit of magic will sparkle down as he flies over. And maybe, just maybe, I'll wake tomorrow to a message in my mailbox from an intriguing s-type who's interested in being an elf-ful helping hand to a delightfully "extra" and jolly D-type. Hohoho! 🎁

This happened to me some years ago now but still remains in my memory as one of the my most embarrassing but exciting experiences. I was staying with my BF at his house for a couple of weeks. He only lived a short drive from the sea and we occasionally went for a walk on the beach. One day he announced that he thought that because of my behavior I was in need of a spanking which is something, I might add, that he did to me almost on a daily basis, and he decided we were going for a beach walk and he was going to give me a public spanking. Well, he had never done that before, I always got spanked in private usually in the bedroom or the lounge room and I was a bit dubious and rather nervous about it and what the public reaction might be and I said so. He just said well that’s tough girl that’s what’s going to happen to you and I knew there was no arguing with him, his word was law in his house (and out of it). I pouted at him a little and tried to argue further but of course it made no difference, in fact it probably made it worse for me. I was dressed in a summery, flowery mini dress, it was summertime, that flared from under my bust and only just covered my bum. Underneath I only had on my bra and panties, with my beach walking sandals on my feet. He was wearing cargo shorts and a tee shirt and to my alarm was carrying a cane in his hand as we went out the door. I said you’re not taking that with you are you! He just told me to shut up and get in the car. I did so, still pouting, which was about the only sort of defiance I could hope to get away with without risking getting a slap. I put on my seat belt and sat in nervous silence staring at my bare legs as he drove us to the beach. My mind was in a bit of a turmoil as I thought about what he said he was going to do to me but I did begin to find it curiously exciting and arousing even thinking about which panties I was wearing if they were going to be seen. Ok, out you get he said to me as we parked in the beachside carpark. He emerged from the car carrying the cane quite openly. I was quietly amused and aroused at his confidence and audacity as he walked down the sandy track to the beach proper, cane in one hand and towing me along behind him with the other. The sky was a clear bright blue with a few fluffy little clouds scudding across it. I now felt very nervously alive and excited at the thought of what was to come. The surf was crashing noisily onto the beach and the cool breeze blew through my hair and lifted up my dress forcing me to do a Marylyn Munroe seven year itch sort of pose to keep it down. To my relief the beach was not all that crowded, just a few people scattered around but there was a roadwork gang working on the road that ran alongside the beach and I could feel those guys already taking an interest in me with my attempts to keep my dress in place. We walked up the beach past the road work crew and the beach sunbathers to a rocky area at one end which was some distance from anybody else but definitely not completely out of sight. He sat on a conveniently placed large rock and I petitely sat down in the sand next to him and shading my eyes with my hand looked out to sea where a fishing boat was underway bobbing up and down in the swell. We sat like that in silence for a little while then he turned to me and in a rather soft sexy voice started to admonish me for what he called my lack of respect and disobedience over the last couple of days and how I needed to be taught a lesson, spare the rod and spoil the girl sort of stuff. I squirmed around a little as I listened to him knowing that he was right I had not been obeying him as instantly as I should have been doing, even occasionally arguing with him and that I did deserve what I was about to get. I looked across the beach towards the fairly distant beachgoers we had passed and then to the work gang on the road, also fairly distant from us now, but nobody seemed to be taking any notice of us. He took hold of my shoulder length blonde hair at the back of my neck then slowly but deliberately forced my head back until I was staring at that vivid blue sky. Automatically I twisted my head to try to get away from him but this just made him firm up his grip on my hair until it hurt and I stopped resisting him. Still using my hair to control me he pulled me across his knees and held me there. My flared dress was so short that it was already up round my waist. I felt his hand caress my bum through my satin panties and his fingers went down between my legs. I was already a teeny bit aroused by all this and by his power and confidence in what he was doing and it was now all I could do to prevent myself from squealing out loud. I just sighed instead. Then he started to spank me. He had large powerful hands and it always hurt. Each smack across my bum sent pain shooting through me making me g. I kept my hands in front of me, palms on the sand sort of balancing myself over his knees, I knew better than to try and protect my bottom with my hands. Then he hooked his thumb into the waistband of my panties and pulled them down until they were stretched tight across my mid thighs and continued spanking my now naked bum. He had pulled me across his knees facing away from the distant beachgoers and work gang but still in sight of them and I remember hoping that someone didn’t think that I was being assaulted and call the police, the last thing I wanted to face as we got back to the car would be a couple of grinning cops waiting for us and having to explain