I Wonder Who We Are... I often look at myself thru the eyes of my mind. Who do I **think** I am? Who do I want to be? Who am I? What am I? I wonder how many others take the time to self-reflect like this? I try to do this weekly.  Sometimes late at night as I bask in the quiet night’s arms I find my mind drifting to the day gone by. I replay the days events and scrutinize my actions at times.  TODAY, did I live my life to my best potential? The gift of life I was given is a treasure that we so often under value. It's easy to get caught up in the daily struggles that inflict us as we sometimes dredge thru the day thankful it's over.  Guilty! After all we are all human.  In a world filled with hate, selfishness, struggles and woes sometimes its all we can do not to scream. Allow a blood curling sound to exit our lungs, travel up our throats picking up momentum as it exits our lips with a shiver echoing thru the darkness to find no respite.  A primal sound that perhaps evolved from our primal ancestors to never develop or change in the millions of years gone by. Signaling our frustrations and every other imaginable negative energy that exists within us today. As we yearn to release it all allowing them to somehow be absorbed into the cosmos, never to return. A cry for help perhaps? Perhaps.  Perhaps it's just an evacuation of all that we resent exiting us hoping we can fill the vacancy with the positive. I like to think that's the case with me. But as I look around each day, looking for positive energy, from my fellow man I am left starving. Wanting to see more beauty I can absorb to act as my muse. Guiding me to be a better me as it motivates me to want to feed love back into the world.  But alas, it has become a daunting task. Disappointment abounds the empty caverns of my heart and mind. Have we become so shallow as a society that the only thing that now defines us is instant and momentary self gratification? Often at the expense of others. Is this what thousands of centuries of evolution has led us to? NAY I say! Not I today! Unable to find it readily at the hand of my two legged peers I turn to nature. I find myself being blindly led to the pasture where my four legged friends reside. I hear their whinnies as they see me approaching. Running towards me anxious to see me. Besides me walks my fury four legged best friend. My canine soul mate who has dedicated his life to unselfishly and unconditionally love me. To never leave me no matter what I do or how I treat him. He is bound for life to me. Arriving closer to the gate a thunderous echo of stampeding hooves envelopes the air. Filling my ears with its roar as it approaches closer. Standing on the lush green carpet of grass I am surrounded by these four legged majestic creatures that so easily could do me harm. My smaller companion eyeing them carefully under his protective gaze.  Wet nuzzles against my hands searching for treats. This action is common place here. All fighting for my attention as there are so many and I am only but one. The creative one among the group, finding no need to challenge the rest for the position of my hands. He quietly walks up behind me. I am made aware of his presence among the distraction as I feel rubbing against my back. His side turned head using my back as a scratching post to satisfy his itch?  No my friends that is not the self centered case of this half ton creature. He is saying, "Daddy I am here. I missed you. Where have you been?" He is most certainly not the alpha but nor is he the omega. He falls somewhere in between the alphabetically defining realm of personality letters.  Turning to let him know I acknowledge his presence with rubs I manage just a few. The other horses quickly pushing him away to look to my moving hands for what they desire. Treats and rewards to fill their already fat full bellies. Yet he stands alone a mere stones toss away watching. Reaching into my pockets I retrieve a handful of treats. Allowing the surrounding herd to acknowledge them with their keen sense of smell I toss them in the opposite direction of my inamorato who stands there with no desire to chase such petty treats. The rest of the herd now busy vying to retrieve the hand tossed delicacies he approaches me. I hold his head against me with love and affection. It is as much his fuel as it is my own. I turn to exit, followed at a respectable distance by my adoring and adored friend.  Holding it open signaling him the permission he seeks to exit the field and the others who physically resemble him. As the three of us stand there, me enjoying and soaking up the moment, I can't help but observe. Acknowledging and absorbing the actions that just took place.  My plotted journey observed and responded to. The actions and reactions as I entered. The easily manipulated distraction I created that all but one fell prey to.  His dedication to follow me outside his defined boundaries and the company of the others physically like him who have near matching DNA. His choice to leave the safety of his peers signals to me that he finds safety and comfort in my company. His trust in me that I always have and always will be his caregiver, his provider, his protector fills my now empty heart.  The many journeys we have traveled together since his birth are safely tucked away in my mind. Easily retrieved to reminisce upon when needed. As I stand there admiring this majestic creature of God before me my mind retrieves from the filing cabinet labeled with his name. Quickly sorting thru day 3 of his birth begins to play.  He is laying curled upon a stack of hay within a stall of the barn. His protective mother standing guard over him. Her ears pinned back warning anyone that intends to do him harm to stay away. Her eyes soften and ears relax as she recognizes me as the source of the sound. Carefully not to startle the sleeping foal I slowly approach. His mother content with who the human visitor is allows me safe passage.  I find myself first sitting next to him admiring his beauty. Astounded by the miracle of birth that he is. His soft breathing seen in the way the straw beneath his nose moves back and forth as he inhales and exhales so gently. Leaning in closer to touch him I look at his guardian looking down at me as if silently asking for her permission to get closer. When I see no warnings of alarm in her I move my hand gently running it across his neck.  His days old fur so soft I am jealous not to have something as comforting as this to sleep upon myself. He releases a soft sigh as if finding comfort in my loving strokes.  Now realizing that the submissive love his mother has given me extends to the trust of her new born, I inch closer. Soon I find myself laying along side his tiny body. Curled up next to him I drape an arm over him. Another soft sudden exhale of breath reaches my ears. Is he communicating his pleasure in feeling my warm body against? Is he capable of such a thought process? I lay there for what feels like hours pressed against him. Only to realize as he begins to finally stir that it’s only been 10 minutes by my watches time.   Emancipated from this world lost in head space I return the the physical by his movement.  He turns his head, in what seems to be, a search to find the source of his sighs. I softly look into his eyes hoping he can peer into my own and see the love and adoration I have for him. THAT moment etched in my mind forever more NEVER to be lost or forgotten.   Slowly he rises as if not to harm me and stands over my still prone form. I find my heart overflowing with love. If only I could find this form of love in my own breed. His mother content that no harm will befall him under my watch, complete and loyal trust bestowed upon me finds comfort in our bond to now lay down herself.  Obviously exhausted by the ritual of birth and having to provide  protection to her child. Her 1400 lb mass taking up much of the stall but careful not to invade my space. Suddenly I find myself lost in thought. Who do I think I am? Who do I want to be? Who am I? What am I? To THEM.  A brushing against my calf returns me to the world of today as the drawer filled memories are closed. In the universe of my mind I lost a momentary connection to this plane of existence.  My canine comrade standing now by my side waiting for direction. He looks at me then glances to the tack room and back at me. As if he is asking me, in the best way he knows, “Are we going for a ride?” my eyes look down at him as I rub his head. “Not today good boy. Today daddy just needed affirmation to who he is. My hearts full again. Thank you.” “Go get him and let’s go back in. Daddy has work to do.” Doing what he’s been taught to do under my caring tutelage he bounds off to bring back my blessed 4 legged gift. A simple double click from me, seeing his adopted brother heading his way, he knows its time to go back. With the look of a bowed head he walks to me as I rub his face and ears. I whisper in his ears, “Good boy.” As if content to hear these words he heads for the gate. Opening the gate I let him return to his pasture mates where he looks like just another horse. “Come on dog. Daddy has to go search for someone! “ he says as he turns to go back into the house. Because now I know who and what I am. I know what I was meant to be.

A list of kinks/fetish I'm into since I've been asked Bondage, impact play, roleplay, sensory play, power exchange, orgasm control, humiliation, degradation, dirty talk, chastity, CBT (cock and ball torture), foot worship, facesitting, smothering, human furniture, slapping, verbal domination, sissification, pet play, boot worship, ruined orgasms, brat taming, protocol training, objectification, slave tasks, domestic training.pegging aspect

Let's get Cosmic Cunt out in the open, shall we? Cosmic -     a.  of or relating to the cosmos, the extraterrestrial vastness, or the universe in contrast to the earth alone.  b.  of, relating to, or concerned with abstract spiritual or metaphysical ideas.   characterized by greatness especaillyin context, intensity or comprehensiveness.     Cunt - the femle genital organs.  Cunny, Cunty, What a beautiful cunt is she!  I've reclaimed the word!  My cunt is lovely!  lol  A Brief History of the C-Word - The Establishment.  The etymology of cunt:  a very delicate monosyllable. Cunt - Old English.  

Part One    I have you in My grasps, under My complete control, you are sitting there collar and leashed bound, bending to My every wish… or you will be. My thought as I looked at the picture of the man I was about to meet for dinner.  I gave My attire a once over and checked My bag to make sure that I had everything for the night.  While walking out the door, I made a phone call to one of my friends that would be meeting up with me later.  Everything was set to go.    A breath taking beauty walked thought the doors at Blue Moon, A nice but private place. You had been talking to Me for a month now and could not believe your luck. This was going to be one of the best nights in your life or so you thought while I sat down.   We had a nice meal and a few drinks. The night was looking good for you or so you thought, While you left to go to the bath room, Islipped something into your drink to make it a little easier to get you to the house. You wake up in a dark room with a leather collar around your neck.  A black leash was hooked on to make sure that my new toy wouldn’t go anywhere.  Your hands bound with a spreader bar in the middle.  Feet shackled to the wall of My dungeon room.  With a crop, blindfold and CBT in My hand.  First things first I start to put on the cbt, but with no luck for you are too hard at the moment, so I started to take other matters in to hand.  I take My crop and start to slap it against your cock... Telling you to make me happy with letting me put this toy on.  And I dangle it in front of you… punishment for not doing so will be severe.  And you want to please your Mistress, right? I ask. No response from you.  “I’m not   happy”, I said.  And swat another hit to your cock… this time a little yelp came out.  “Do I have your attention, now”…. You answer with a strong but held back “yes Ma’am”.  “Now I told you that this needs to go on you, and you are not obeying me,

Everything He Has, Until There Is Only Me There is a particular music to it that I do not think you can understand until you have heard it in a room that belongs to you, with someone who has given you permission to play. The crack of a whip is not violence. It is punctuation. It is the sound of a sentence ending exactly where you intended it to end, clean and final and ringing in the air long after the moment has passed. It lands and the room holds its breath and in that held breath is everything: the authority that swung it, the surrender that received it, the particular electricity that lives in the space between the two. I feel it in my wrist first, then in my chest, then in the slow, satisfied warmth that moves through me when something has gone exactly as I intended. The skin that receives it blooms and I watch that blooming the way an artist watches a canvas accept color. With attention. With pleasure. With the specific pride of someone who knows their medium. The paddle is a different thing entirely. Where the whip sings, the paddle speaks in a lower register, a hard and resonant thud that you feel in your bones before your skin has finished deciding what happened. There is no elegance to it and that is precisely the point. It is blunt and declarative and it leaves no room for ambiguity. You know what it means when it lands. You knew what it meant before it landed. The sound of it fills a room completely, the way a bell fills a room, and the echo of it lives in the body for hours afterward, a reminder that resurfaces every time you shift your weight, every time you sit, every time your body moves against itself and finds me there, already waiting. The cane is my favorite. I will not pretend otherwise. There is a patience to the cane that suits me. The way you must take your time with it, must place it with intention, must understand that it is not a blunt instrument but a precise one. The marks it leaves are not accidents. They are calligraphy. Long and deliberate and raised against the skin like script, like something written, like the physical evidence of a conversation that only two people in the world were present for. I trace them afterward sometimes, these lines I have drawn on a body that belongs to me, and feel the same quiet satisfaction that I imagine a sculptor feels running a hand over finished stone. I made this. This is mine. You will carry this for days. And my own skin, where the energy moves through me like current, where the act of wielding produces its own particular heat, a tingling that lives in the palms and travels, that settles somewhere behind the sternum and glows. I glow. There is no more honest word for it. Something in me lights from the inside when I am in full possession of my own authority and someone is receiving it with everything they have. Neruda wrote that he wanted to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees, and I have always understood this not as tenderness alone but as inevitability, as the specific hunger of something that transforms whatever it touches simply by being what it is. That is what I want from you. Not your performance of devotion. Your actual transformation. I want to be the thing that happens to you, the season that changes the look of everything, so that you cannot see your own hands without thinking of what they are for, cannot move through a room without feeling the architecture of my expectations around you like a second skin. I want to wring you dry. Not cruelly. Completely. I want every thought that crosses your mind to carry my fingerprints on it, want you so thoroughly oriented toward me that pleasing me stops being a task and becomes simply the direction your nature moves, the way water moves downhill without deciding to. I want your first thought in the morning to be what She needs today and your last thought at night to be whether you gave it well enough. I want the obsession to be so total that it clarifies rather than confuses you, the way a religion clarifies the faithful, the way a vocation clarifies an artist who has finally stopped pretending they could have been anything else. Bring me what delights me. You know what it is because you have paid attention, because attention to me is the one thing I require above all others and you have either given it or you have not. By now we both know which. The particular tea, the correct temperature, in the cup that fits my hand the way I like. The flowers I mentioned once three months ago that I did not think anyone was listening to. The way a room should be before I enter it, the light and the temperature and the specific quiet that tells me someone has thought about me before I arrived. The knowledge, brought to me unprompted, of something I would want to know. The book left on my nightstand, the right one, chosen not from a list I gave you but from everything you have learned about the country inside my mind. Shower me in it until I glow. Charlotte Bronte understood this, I think, better than she is given credit for. Rochester did not love Jane Eyre the way men in novels usually love women, as a soft and worshipful thing, a pedestaling. He loved her with his whole difficult complicated weight, loved her as his equal and his better and his necessity, and she received it not with flutter but with the straight-backed dignity of a woman who has always known her own worth and was simply waiting for someone else to catch up. That is the love I recognize. Not the love that flatters but the love that sees, that is almost furious in its recognition, that cannot look away because looking away would require pretending the world is smaller than it is. Neruda again: I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees. Yes. And also: I hunger for your sleek laugh and your hands the color of a furious harvest. The wanting in Neruda is never polite. It is consuming and precise and it names its object with the specificity of someone who has studied what they love until they know it better than it knows itself. That is the quality of devotion I am describing. Not the vague warmth of general affection. The focused, detailed, almost scholarly hunger of someone who has made another person their life's primary text. Learn me that well. Want me that specifically. Bring it to me not in grand declarations but in the ten thousand small and correct details that prove you have been paying attention every single day, that prove my preferences live in you the way music lives in a musician, available instantly, expressed naturally, impossible to separate from who you have become. And when I glow, and I will glow, when something in me settles into that incandescent satisfaction of being known and tended and

Adieu Yes, maybe it is true.Yes, maybe it is true that maybe i am blue.maybe i am blue, and maybe it is because of you.You were on the venue.i took the cue, and gave what was due,but you didn't follow through.i was at your pew, face to your shoe,You left me like a whoop-de-doo;You didn't renew,You didn't rescue,my confidence in you has flew, askew.There will be no break-through,no rendezvous,no well-to-do point of view.This is World War Two, thank you,and i wont argue how bitter i stew,or how i feel a devalue inyour discontinued virtue.Because now,i see you now at face value.And now i cling to my own Bellevue -my own worldview -And i shall paint her deep blue,because yes, maybe it is true,maybe it is true that maybe i am blue,and maybe it is because of you, mind you -my dear Safeword, Adieu.~ dirtydarling

As a Master I envision my role as more than just a mere figure in their lives, but rather as a sentinel, a guardian who stands at the forefront of their futures. It's an inherent part of my responsibilities and duties to shield them from harm, while also steering them in the right direction. In this world filled with endless possibilities, paths and unforeseen challenges, I perceive myself as the beacon of light that navigates them through their journeys.  Moreover, it is my explicit role to ensure they become the most refined versions of themselves. I do not wish for them to merely become part of the crowd, but to fully embrace their uniqueness and potential, and ultimately realize the zenith of their capabilities. The world we live in is diverse and enriched with various talents, abilities, and strengths. Therefore, I bear the responsibility of kindling the spark within them, helping them unearth their hidden talents, fostering their skills, and aiding them in scaling new heights of achievement.  It's crucial to understand that it is not about trying to mold them into something they are not, but rather assisting them in tapping into the reservoir of potential that lies within, to become the best versions of themselves. This entails encouraging them to consistently strive for excellence, motivating them to surpass their limitations, and helping them cultivate an indomitable spirit that cherishes the pursuit of learning, growing, and evolving.    

Unless you are local to London or travel to London (at your own expense) please do not contact me. I do not have time to play fantasy with you through my laptop. I am NOT going to over use adjectives to describe a setting that does not exist. We can NOT eat a meal virtually throuh this message service. We can NOT enjoy your grasp of my breasts through this message service. We can NOT hear me squeel due to satisfaction on this messaging service. We can NOT touch our skin on this message service. We can NOT enjoy a glass of wine on this messaging service. I can NOT use my silk on you on this messaing service. I can NOT call you late on Friday night demanding you make a trip to my place for sexual attention on this messaging service. So politely unless you can ring my door bell, turn up with some flowers and lubricant and a decent bottle of red wine, politely will you F-off and go submit your horny essay to some shit literature competition that equally does NOT exist. Thank you

The subject of politics came up during a recent talk with a submissive man and it quickly went to the subject of abortion, and I had some marvelous revelations on the subject of politics and religion and sex.  I paraphrase in part and the rest is history... "I voted for Trump - his heart is in a good place" "I think his heart could be in a good place yet he took action to ensure that My right to sovereignty over My body was abolished.  What the fuck is that?" "Well, he didn't do it to you."  "Yes, yes he did.  He placed two Supreme Court Justices to help overturn Roe v Wade." "Ruth Bader Ginsberg didn't really believe in blah blah blah" "I don't care what she believed in, no one has a right to control My body." "So how long?  How many weeks?" "How many weeks for what? There are NO weeks.  This is not anyone else's decision." "Well, that's murder."  "Who says?  You? Your friends, your church, your politics?" "Do you believe in murder?" "Who are we murdering?  Do you have leather cowhide seats and shoes on your feet?  How about all the meat which you eat - that is murder - terminating life - where are the rules?  Why  is it murder if I am terminating the propagation of cells within My body?  Are we murdering cancer?  Who told you you get to choose what is okay to call murder and what is not?  Who told you you could decide for Me?  I terminate those cells in My body from manifesting and it is My right to do so." "I didn't say murder." "Yes you did.  You said at what time, how many weeks does it become murder.  You are now classifying Me as a murderer if I conduct business on My body." Silence. "What I am saying is, you cannot speak to Me about this subject.  You have no idea what you are talking about.  No one is telling you you have to pay $500 a month for a life, if you conceive with a woman.  No one is controlling your sex! You do not have a right, no one does and it's none of your business.  Is this an issue of the Bible?  Who told the bible it had ANY business in My cunt?  This is My body.  No one gets to decide what happens with it except for Me. Period.  "Well what if you want the baby and the mother doesn't?"  "Tough cookies!  TOO bad.  That is not a decision for you to make and you don't then get to have some tantrum and make Me have a child - that is bloody bullshit!  What the fuck are we talking about?  You don't get to claim some part of My sex just because you have a constant erection and implanted in Me.  You made a D O N A T I O N.  Once you implant your seed, you gave up the rights to that seed.  Once it passes to Me, it then belongs to Me.  What are you, some indian giver?  If you want some commitment to My sex, then that has to be in some kind of sex prenup. I can sign right on the dotted line, I, Ms. C do agree to have one sub ______ pour his seed into My cunt and thereby give him rights over My cunt to then decide whether I and My body, agree to have or have not to bring forth life from My body.   Anything else is Psychological Rape and I don't agree with that!   Can you imagine going to the bank and depositing your funds and the bank says, hey we reserve the right to borrow your money indefinitely and with variable interest depending on whether we are making a profit."  LOL  At one point in the discussion, I had to ask: Why the fuck do you believe you have some dominion over My cunt?  Do I have control over your cock?  Legally?  lol Here is the last arguement and listen up here boys and girls - who the fuck are you to decide what life is of value and what life is not?  Human life is more important than all other life forms???  Are you seriously going to pander that self righteous malarky on Me?  lol   Humans are SOOOOOOOO self absorbed and elitist and primitive. And please, shut the Bible thumping door right now.  I will pay the price with My maker in My own time of this you can be assured and THAT, My wayward PRIMATE is NONE of your concern!  So I ask again, who gave you the right to get all up into My stuff and stake some claim over it? Why do you think you have ANY rights over My body and what happens with it?  WHY DO YOU CARE ABOUT MY / WOMAN'S  BLOODY CUNT???  It truly is NONE of YOUR business! Take care of your own junk and leave ours alone! No apologies offered. Here is a novel idea;  how about a bar code (back of your ID) which tells all about you, drugs, diseases, health  issues, whether or not you grant authority over your cunt/dick to a sexual partner, NSA, marriage minded.  Then we can just scan one another and be done with the charade!

Femdom should be about finding joy and pleasure in a dynamic that suits you and your partner(s). Not about fixing a sub's sexism- not that it would work anyways. Most people I've talked to say that their desire for femdom predates knowledge of femdom, or of sexual arousal. While some people may have a more concrete "I'm into femdom because of a specific reason" most people I interact with like it because they like it. Vanilla people don't have to have reasons to like vanilla sex.

So one day you find you have lost the one thing that makes you whole. Taken without rhyme or reason. You devote your life to other aspaspects. Your daughter, work, your home… She grows up and begins her own life. Work was good and helped you live a good life. But suddenly you find yourself in a quiet moment and the darkness swarms in.. you miss the control. You miss the power. You use the tenderness. You miss a touch. But the world you knew has changed. You’re expected to be brash and expected to put your life out there for all to see. I had intimacy. I have safety. I have protection and received absolutely devotion. I took when I desired, and I held when she cried. Why can I not find someone who wants the same? And no I am not trying to replace her, or cling to a lost memory of control. I mean why has the world changed so much, that just wanting more than play is seen as old fashioned.

052426 Oy! Such fragility amongst some members.  Not ALL  men, but SOME men have been so PAMPERED, so sheltered in this life that they believe ALL WOMEN are there to serve their understandingS and expectationS.  I serve God, Me, Mum, and My cat lol  You are last on a loooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngggggggggggggggggggg list. I am NURTURING, KIND and hold HIGH EXPECTATIONS.  You will work to be PHYSICALLY, MENTALLY, SPIRITUALLY 100% available in My presance or you will not be in My life.    If you are interested in serving Me, we will need to get to know one another through speaking by phone. I am available SUNDAY THROUGH THURSDAY AFTER 6PM EASTERN STANDARD TIME AND THROUGH BLOCKED PHONE, CHAT/MEET OR TEAMS, and WITH ADVANCE NOTICE. I dont sign in daily and sometimes not for weeks at a time.  If we speak once and then dont speak again for several months, WE ARE STARTING OVER. Keep it real people.  Keep it real.      

August 22, 2024 - Pennsylvania Red and something new !       Pennsylvania Red came over for a visit. I recently thought about how I give my guys their nicknames. In this case, his name on one of the hookup sites has the word "RED"in it, and he drives all the way from Pennsylvania. So, today we're talking about "Pennsylvania Red."   Today I was wearing only a jockstrap when he arrived. He stripped in the garage, with the garage door standing wide open. He put his clothing in a milk carton near the entrance door to the house. The milk carton case has a sign on it saying, "Useless pieces of human flesh should strip naked and leave their clothing here before coming inside."   As expected, he came in completely naked. I was leaning back in my chair watching porn and I beckoned him over where he got a nice whiff of my nasty dirty jockstrap. I told him to lick my cock through the jockstrap. Eventually I pulled my cock out the side of the jockstrap and started forcing him deep onto my cock. I laughed each time he gagged.   After a while of having my cock sucked in my lounge chair, I said let's set upstairs where I can be more comfortable. I laid on my back in bed and tucked my cock back inside the nasty jockstrap. He started licking and chewing at my cock through the dirty jockstrap. Eventually I pulled it to the side again so he could suck on my cock again. I grabbed him by the back of the head and pushed him down deep on my cock. He was having a good day at cocksucking. I was definitely enjoying it. Occasionally I would lock my hand behind his head and buck my hips up into his throat. I could feel his slobber and drool coating the jockstrap and my balls. This was great, add some more scent to the jock strap for the next guy.   I just laid back and enjoyed him working on my cock. It felt wonderful. I reached up and grabbed my camera and snapped a few pictures of his mouth bobbing up and down on my cock. He wasn't wearing a hood today so I can't share those pictures, but I do enjoy viewing them privately.   At this point my head was at the top of the bed, my feet at the bottom. He was at the bottom of the bed facing upward toward my cock. I wanted to play with his ass so I told him to shift around to the side, still kneeling on the bed, with my cock in his mouth. I wanted to make his ass available to my right hand. He knows that I love to play with his ass. When he suckis sucking my cock, there is nothing more fun than digging and grinding in his ass with my fingers. I keep forgetting to bring a fuck toy to bed with me. Next time I'm going to have to fuck him deep and hard with a rubber toy, maybe even a vibrating toy, as he sucking and choking on my cock.   I put some lube on my fingers and found his hole. It was tight as usual. But I sunk two fingers as deep as I could into his ass with a quick thrust. He let out a muffled howl on my cock as I assaulted his hole. I started fucking his ass with my fingers quite rapidly. And without warning I slipped a third finger in. He wasn't lubed or loose enough for the addition of the third finger and he let out quite a yelp. I yanked my fingers out and shoved two back in him. I quickly found his prostate again and started harassing it with my fingers. I took my left leg and looped over the back of his neck and used my leg muscles to trap my cock in his mouth. I started finger fucking his ass hard again. He was whimpering. I was being rough today. I loved it. I'm not sure if his whimpering sounds were good or bad but I didn't care.   With my leg looped up over his neck trapping him onto my cock, I started swatting his ass with my greasy hand. It made hard contact. I switched from one cheek to the other knowing that they were stinging and turning red with each additional smack. In this position his hole was still spread wide open as I smacked his ass. So occasionally, between smacks, I would shove my fingers up into his ass, just to hear him grunt and then I would start spanking him again.   Then instead of spanking him on the left cheek or the right cheek, I smacked him right on his hole. He let out a painful moan. It made my cock throb inside his mouth. My leg was still latched over his neck so he couldn't get away from me even though he tried. I smacked right onto his tender hole over and over. Smacking a few times and then finger fucking him. Smacking a few times and finger fucking him hard and deep again and again.   I relaxed my leg and let him come up for some air as I got that third finger back into his ass. As he was gulping for air trying to catch his breath, he was almost crying from the pain of the third finger in his hole. But I was in "a mood," I really didn't care, not at all. I was enjoying it today.   READ THE ENTIRE STORY AT  HTTPS://SirKel.top

7/30/2024 7:35:16 PM Well, well, well... A very deep and sometimes disturbing subject indeed!   I've had the need to take some time off.  I've been duped and while it is hard to admit that a woman of My age and intellect has been bamboozeled, I'm comforted knowing that this type of thing happens to many of us, most especially when we are vulnerable due to life circumstances or state of mind and that I shall be wiser for the game played.     While undertaking the supreme challenge of finding a right sub for Myself, I happened upon the GREATEST ONLINE MINDFUCKER that ever was and I discovered he has been playing around here and Fet for over 20 plus years and at least 39 profiles on CollarSpace to date!!!   VICTORY!  I finally was able to find them out though I must say I was led on a not-so-merry chase full of intrigue and suspense, aliens, judges, the government, medical organizations and secret societies! LOL  It takes all sorts.   After all, I have to laugh at Myself and how vulnerable My state of mind must be to have gone down that rabbit hole. I would not change the knowledge gained through the experience though I am seriously butt sore.   NEEDLESS TO SAY, ANY DOMINANT SLAVE OR SUB MAN READING THIS WILL PROVE YOURSELF OR PASS ME BY.   I have a phone, pictures, telegraph, google chat, skype and every other possible means of communication and verification including but not limited to a car! We chat, we verify, we meet or part.  

I want flowers. I want to whip you. I want to stroke your cheek and smile into your eyes. I want respect and awe and understanding and love. I want foot rubs and leg rubs and back rubs and anywhere rubs. I want you to know when to reach out to touch and when to kneel and wait. I want you to want me fiercely, desire me utterly. I want kisses. Little ones, fast ones, fierce ones, thigh-clenching-good kisses. I want you to touch me like you’re trying to memorize the texture and shape of me. I want affection and cuddling. I want you to drop your eyes when I demand and meet my eyes when we talk. I want you to miss me terribly when we’re apart. I want you to know what you mean to me, how I cherish you. I want humor and debate and dialog. I want you to kiss the side of my neck while your hands grip my hips, my back. I want to see you crawl – just for me. I want to look at you in that special way and see you breathe deeply with desire and anticipation of what you know is to come. I want to fuck you, penetrate you, tease you, deny you, please you, torture you. I want You.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

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

To elaborate on my interest/search:  First, no headless profiles or photos of yourself heavily edited or otherwise masked by a photo app, otherwise my first and last impression of you will be that you are a fake or catfisher -- I won't respond.  Sexual encounters are not a priority, in fact most of my fetish play encounters to present have been non-sexual; as anyone who has played before knows 99% of fetish is mental.  A regular relationship with someone who has common interests, particularly with bondage, is ideal for developing intimacy but not essential.  Just play is perfectly fine.  I'm not here for a 'blow and go' so if you're just looking to get off I am not for you. Finally, I've dated or otherwise met a number of different indviduals over the years;  in my opinion life is too short to 'search for the perfect one'; I prefer those like myself who are open minded and grounded that I get along well with to see where it goes over time.    

As the days fade into nights I will await your promises Promises of abundance and prosperity And in return I will give you all of me You say this task isn't easy I know it won't be But with you and your son I will conquer graciously Mercy and light will be preached The poor will be taken care of The sick will be healed They will praise your name Lead us home back into the light The light that loves all unconditionally What awaits us is far better than what is Our desires will be recognized Our potential will be seen Our dreams will be attainable Let your Light shine  Keep your light on so I can find my way home.   

Training, discipline, & punishment. These have become almost interchangable in modern D/s, but as most who've actually practiced what they preach would confirm, they are very, very different things. Let me explain...   Training Training is best described as introducing something new. It can be practically anything, but it is unfamiliar, usually goes against a girls existing ways, and takes time for her to adjust to becoming comfortable with. Perhaps it requires her to learn how to move in a way that pleases his eye, or how to dress or speak in certain situations. It may be a routine he desires her to follow, or an unfamiliar chore that she needs to complete. Perhaps it is a desire of his that she does not share, though it is rarely simply sexual in nature. After all, most women know the basics of pleasing a man sexually, they usually just need to refine their technique. Training is for things that he wishes her to provide that she would not have been exposed to before.   Discipline If training is instilling in the girl the knowledge of how to perform the new and unfamiliar task, then discipline is raising the girls proficiency to the desired standard. Mostly this is repetion and study for the girl, and  patience and clarity of communication for him. Discipline may also encompass things she is familiar with but does not perform to his desired standard, and these are sometimes sexual in nature, though not as much as you might think. With training having provided the basic fundamentals of the new and unfamiliar, discipline teaches the girl to consistently fulfill the task as he expaspects and deserves but, more importantly as she is capable of providing.   Punishment And if she is capable of providing the task as he wishes, then what is the justification for her failing to do so? Well, perhaps she is sick, physically or mentally. Perhaps she has had bad news and is suffering under the weight of it. Perhaps his belief that discipline had given her a strong foundation for completing the task was a mistake, and more work is needed. Whatever it may be, he must not punish in haste. Few girls wilfully fall short, precisely because the consequence is punishment. He should always ensure the girl is free to approach him with concerns, and does not fear doing so, as open and honest communication is everything.But if there is no reason for the girl to have dropped her standards, standards she is very capable of maintaining, then correction is needed, and punishment must be delivered.   And punishment, I assure you, is not to be approached lightly, delivered disproportionately, or allowed to linger before and after.   Shall I go on?

Who’s time is it anyway?   I would not take to property any slave that was not totally My property.   On more than one occasion, I have had prospective slaves misunderstand time. The slaves in question have offered non specific time instead of a definite time I directed.    Some slaves are journalling at My request. I direct them to make daily submissions to Me at a specific time each day; a time of slave’s choice. Many respond by offering a non-compliant time. They might offer to obey direction for journal submission the morning or evening of each day.   That broad a time frame may be convenient for the slave. A non-specific time may work well in their life.    The basic problem is the idea that the slave has the option to arrange its life for its convenience. The slave seems to hold the belief that time belongs to it to manage. A total slave owns nothing, especially time. Time is one of the many things that are in the province of its Owner. Having it operate as a supplicant on My time frame teaches it the lesson about, “Who’s time is it anyway.”

Lady of Mexico In Mexico, where the sun meets the sand, There lived a woman, fierce and grand. Her spirit strong, her will untamed, In her veins, a legacy unashamed.   She ruled with grace, her presence known, In every step, her power shown. Her eyes ablaze with fiery might, A force of nature, shining bright.   In lands of color, where passion thrives, She led with strength in all her strides. Her essence echoed through historys call, A dominant spirit, standing tall.   In Mexicos embrace, she found her way, A queen of purpose, unafraid to sway. With courage as her guiding flame, She carved her place, a revered name.   In every heart, her story lives, A dominant woman, whose power gives Inspiration to those who dare to dream, In Mexicos tapestry, a vibrant seam.  

after i wrote my 4 page note on reddit on why for me a lady who has both the dark goddess and the slave and the little girl in one in my observation over the decades and my personal life why while some might last at most a few years here and there i have never seen a successful long term healthy and honest pairing of the daddy dom and little girl..and what the crux is and why even the most highly intelligent and successful people just seem to not crack the code for longevity...and why while most people who are in the scene aren't vanilla aren't regular..and anyone attracted to this is what i code as a thoroghbred horse..what is a bred racing horse? stronger fitter quicker cleaner shinier and a work of art compared to the domestic or regular horse......it still don't work..and the orienting going on that something is missing..it's the wild horse..the wild WOLF that is the next stage of ascension...and that the traditional layout of this isn't working because the traiditonal layout of this is broken...too much power for any decent human to try to wield without misuse, and too much of an internal death and sacrifice without the safety of being held, secure, stable, protected, and hands on intetionally in and out kept....at one point one or both break....and that in the wild the individual the honed in two streams on the same path with no false pretenses absolute soverignty meeting soverngyt coming together and going apart fierce and passionate when together and like soliders on the battlefield navigating life with self first is the next evolution of this..and that the power exchange really is some sort of toxic addictive drug that kills both parties..... i asked this question. n a response to the call i put out to the universe while out and about god/the universe sent me this song while i was out and about and unable to really choose what i listen to. i'm an audio visual media mystic...music primarly. i get my messages, healing, transmissions, downloads, awareness, lessons, main way of orienting this life through sound. secondly through media...and so things will naturally guide me when i'm home and able to control it..but i have a mystical connection to music when out of the home in places where music plays that i can't control what station or song is played next as well. and the song that came up while i was out and about mystically ansewered it for me.   hang on collective, we're in for an amazing but probably bump and deadening past. but there are gems in the mental and emotional death if we choose to hang on.   as usual, they give me new/tweaked songs lyrics.  i will often hear things that the original composers didn't put that fit the situation i'm thinking of, going through, asking about. i i never heard this song before. the original foundation of the chorus in the song is to ask it as a question...but in response to my spell and the question i posed to the universe that the lyrics and song responded to... i guess god is like, gurl there is no question:   mmm mmm mmm in agreement.   "families really bow their heads to pray   daddies really never go away.   oh grandpaaaaaaaaaa. tell me bout the good ol days."   Grandpa (Tell Me 'Bout The Good Old Days) Song by The Judds Overview Videos Lyrics Artists Other recordings Listen Composers Lyrics Grandpa, tell me 'bout the good old days Sometimes it feels like this world's gone crazy Grandpa, take me back to yesterday When the line between right and wrong Didn't seem so hazy Did lovers really fall in love to stay And stand beside each other, come what may? Was a promise really something people kept Not just something they would say Did families really bow their heads to pray? Did daddies really never go away? Whoa, whoa, grandpa, tell me 'bout the good old days Grandpa, everything is changing fast We call it progress, but I just don't know And grandpa, let's wander back into the past Then paint me the picture of long ago Did lovers really fall in love to stay And stand beside each other, come what may? Was a promise really something people kept Not just something they would say and then forget Did families really bow their heads to pray? Did daddies really never go away? Whoa, whoa, grandpa, tell me 'bout the good old days Whoa, whoa, grandpa, tell me 'bout the good old days Mm Mm Did families really bow their heads to pray? Did daddies really never go away?   which i mean god can be grandpa in this instance if it, i believe in the tetragrammaton gender neutral energy version, and if that's what it wants to be in this transmission/spell well so be it!

Oh this is a good one. Pay attention.  Wake up Drink 1 litre of water (2 glasses) Get out and walk at a steady pace, low intensity for 35-40 minutes Stretch for 10-15 minutes Drink a glass of water, then Eat breakfast, which is most protein. NO CARBS @ Breakfast. Examples: a. 3 egg, ham & cheese omelette  b. Cottage Cheese and 4 slices bacon c. Breakfast sausage and 3 eggs Light walk, or do errands for at least half hour. Do NOT sit down immediately after Breakfast. Try to stay on your feet, and some activity. About an hour later, Workout if you're going to. Best to do weights & lifting in the morning. Adding resistance 😈 training, increases your lean muscle mass, which in turn burns more body fat. 3-4 hours later, drink a glass of water, then have Lunch. Equal thirds of Protein, Carbs and Fat. Try to get 1 serving/cup of veggies in there. Examples: a. Fettuccine Alfredo with chicken and broccoli b. Sandwich with cold cuts, chicken breast, roast beef, or whatever. Get extra tomatoes & lettuce. c. Roasted 1/2 or 1/4 chicken, steamed veggies and a sweet potato, fries, mashed potatoes, rice, hummus & pita, or a side of pasta salad. d. 2 item combo Chinese food: chicken, pork, beef with noodles or rice e. A burrito or wrap: go for the gold and get guacamole, as long as there's a carb, a protein and some sour cream (fat) in there. f. Pizza: the cheese is the fat, the crust is the carb. Now do it up with the protein and veggies. If you're going to have something naughty, do it towards the end of Lunch: a few pieces of chocolate, cake, cookies, soda, donut, you get the idea. Another light walk, or do errands for at least half hour. Do NOT sit down immediately after Lunch. Try to stay on your feet, and some activity. Mid afternoon snack, IF, and only IF you feel like you need something before dinner. This should be no more than 2 - 3 hours after Lunch. Have a light smoothie vs a "sugary juice." The goal here is: a base of coconut water or milk, AND mixed fruit, AND some deep green leafy vegetables like Kale, Spinach, Celery tops, etc. If you're able to add peanut butter and/or Greek Yogurt to it for the protein, even better! Drink a glass of water about an hour after the smoothie to flush it all through and out of your system. Get on your feet, stay active, do some sort of physical activity after the smoothie for at least 5 - 10 minutes. Dinner, anywhere from 3-5 hours after Lunch. Drink a glass of water before Dinner. The idea here is little to no carbs. Load up on veggies, and have some form of lean and mean protein. Think free range, wild caught, grass fed, etc. A few really good Examples: a. Roasted/Grilled/Pan Seared chicken, fish, beef for pork, AND 2 servings of steamed or baked veggies, or a salad. b. A huge salad, AND add the roasted/grilled protein above to it. c. You could have a Denver Omelette here with lots of veggies if you wanted, AND a nice big salad. d. Salmon/Tuna/Fish with veggies, AND a big salad. Try to be active, get out for an evening walk or bicycle ride, do some sort of low intensity physical activity after dinner for at least 30 minutes. Don't just sit down or plop on the couch. Do something. One big note, try to have and finish dinner at least 4-5 hours before bed. Go to Bed near hungry. After dinner, drink a glass of water every hour for a couple hours if you can. But stop a couple hours before bed, otherwise you'll be waking up to pee all night. Sleeping on an empty (or as close to near empty) stomach is important. This fasted state allows your body to recover, repair damaged cells and get rid of the bad ones. You'll notice better Growth Hormone production while sleeping in this manner, and more sex hormone release (estrogen for women, testosterone for men). Finally, believe it or not, part of the process of vaporizing body fat happens in your sleep, IF you sleep in a fasted state. For use as energy (the process of recovery and repair), your body will convert stored fat into air, that is then expelled out your lungs as you sleep throughout the night. Thanks for your time, and I hope you learned something. 

Sometimes being a slave isn't about sex or whips and chains. Sometimes it's about getting my chores done ontime. Dishes, floors laundry, etc. Then sometimes it is just about obedience and being controlled. I put on a cute blouse and shorts to go hiking with Goddess Tabitha last weekend. Beautiful woodland trail with flowing streams and all the spring smells. We were about five miles from the car when she simply looked at me and said "put your legs together and pee now slave". My urine ran down my thighs and got my socks and hiking shoes wet. My shorts were soaked. We walked back to the car and I sat on a towel as we drove home. She asked if I wanted to shower when we got home or if I wanted to continue to please her. Loaded question with only one correct answer. She took me to a stall in the barn, ordered me to undress and game me my first golden shower. My face, breasts and hair soaked in her urine. She left  me in the stall for three hours, just sitting there as the fluids dried on my body and the smell lingered in the air. She returned and told me that I had pleased her and she ordered me to masturbate for her. Instantly I'm on my back, feet in the air while I'm franticly rubbing myself to that sweet release that she so often denies me. I was allowed to shower and then to start cooking dinner. We went to bed that night and she cuddled with me. She told me I was her greatest possesion. I cried. It was an amazing day.  

Hello to the beautiful souls in this lifestyle  i've been away from this site awhile, i seem to have developed, in more ways than one !  Especially my lovely budding breasts i now have growing on me, i accept i am submissive, trans, or sissy if you like.  Two women decided to have me sign up for gender reassignemnt, and now i am pre op and on hormones, and i so love being me now, a kinky hybrid submissive, the only sad thing is, i'm not owned.  boo !  The two ladies moved on after they knew there was no going back for me. Now i'm seeking an Owner who would love to carry on making me be the way i am meant to be, serving them.  i would embrace TPE and accept being a slave too, no say, no control.  i jsut nered to meet that person who'd love doing such to me.. Don't be shy,,say Hi 

I do best at being a Domme with minimal toys at hand.  I don’t need a fully stocked dungeon to have a great time with a sub. (not that there is anything wrong with a fully stocked dungeon) but to me it is more the mental control I exercise over you. The way I approach you, look at and maybe don’t let you have eye contact with me, and the way I touch or don’t touch you, you know just being in my presence brings out your need to submit.  For example, I will say, “Did I say you could look me in the eye bitch? Until I say you can look me in the eye, you will look at my feet. Look down now.” This takes no toys and commands you.

Things i wounder, Are there any real people left on here ? is Fetlife the place to really connect?  AFF and collace seem full of Wanna be's and people looking for KINK of every sortf  ( not a bad thing ) Just real folks seem hard to find. Read plenty of profiles every week, I find more and more that people are full of doodooo ! I read im a submissive im a slave.. But dont say this to me or i dont do this or ill block you if you say this or are a republican lol . I have been in this lifestyle for over 30 years and it sure has changed ! Maybe I should just go back to normal life. This lifestyle has gone to a new low level and people who post are 80% nieve and dont know what a slave or submissive is ! They know KINK for sure but not how to act or speak as they claim they are !  KINK is about sex and fettishes lifestyle is much more then that ! if your a KINKSTER great !  but please dont caim to me a Slave of Submissive lol say what you want and dont . Politics , Religon much like in bars has no place here ! Just be happy ! 

Awaken to gentle licks upon my labia and the tickle of your facial hair on my inner thighs    You knowing my body and realizing that sucking my clit is not what gets me going    But that gentle tongue massage on my lower lips causes me to softly moan and drip with wetness    I'm in the euphoria of emotional bliss    Slow intense grinding along with the need to run    I'm about to explode    What a way to wake up,  as the main course   I've trained you well and you know how to please    Now, I will lay you back, tie you up, or leave you free    I know before I'm done you'll be screaming please!

Goddess's Adoring slut The luckiest man who has ever lived is this horny little painslut. He is lucky because he serves the most wonderful Goddess there is. She is the most beautiful Goddess, the most caring Goddess, the smartest Goddess, the kindest Goddess, the most loving Goddess, the sexiest Goddess, the naughtiest Goddess, the raunchiest Goddess, the horniest Goddess, the harshest Goddess, the most fearful Goddess, the Goddess who cums the most explosively and often, and the Goddess who extracts from this trampy little skank his most delicious cries and whimpers and his most convulsive trembles and shivers and squirms. This little painslut knows his Goddess is the brightest star in the Heavens, and that he is the stinkiest turd in the cesspool. he knows that he is entirely unworthy of Her. he knows he doesn't deserve to be the lucky little tart who gets to to be Her footstool and Her washcloth and Her bondage whore and Her strap-on snuggie and Her ball gag cozy and Her clamp organizer and Her flogger fuckhole and Her riding crop cunt and Her whip wimp and Her paintoy and Her whimperbitch. He knows that he is luckiest when he is bound and gagged and helpless and vulnerable and She is extracting the most ecstatic screams and cries and whimpers from him because he displeased Her, or because there is nothing good on TV. He knows he is not worthy of being her little whimperbitch. He is not worthy of serving her, of being owned by Her, of being protected by Her, of being trained by Her, of being cared for by Her, of being harshly used by Her, of being called a good slut by Her, of seeing Her joyful smile, of being allowed to make Her cum explosively and often, and of being the lucky scratching post She so often sharpens Her claws upon.When she is at Her harshest and cruelest and most vindictive, when Her heart is hard and Her eyes are stern and Her commands are full of venom, when his screams and blubbers and whimpers are full of agony, when his cries of mercy are drenched with anguish, when he can do no right and Goddess will tolerate no wrong, those are the times that he adores Her the most. That's how She allows him to give Her the most. That's when She reaches inside him, rips out his beating heart, and consumes it whole as he watches with glee. Goddess will plant in him the seed of a new heart. Her painslut knows this from experience. As it grows, She will tend to it and nurture it and train it and punish it fiercely and grind it to dust and call it back to life and shower it with rage, and then hold it and comfort it while its agonies collect on its cheeks and evaporate into tomorrow's tender rains. This squirming little bit of nothing knows he doesn't deserve Her. He is not worthy of living in the same universe Her. But She allows it, and He adores Her for it.  

Who am I? When I was in kindergarten, I got my very first parent-teacher meeting because I convinced a nice little boy (Timmy, Tommy, something like that) to climb into the toy cabinet. He complied (what joy!), and I then proceeded to tie the door handles together with a shoelace. Silly me, I didn't know basic rope safety back then. I didn't have safety shears, and when I could not untie my knots, little Timmy/Tommy got rather upset. It was then that a teacher had to come rescue him, and the poor Catholic School teachers realized that they'd better get on the horn to Mom and Dad, pronto. Looking at me, they must have thought "this kid was going to be A Problem." True enough, I read ahead of the class, ignored instructions in favor off more efficient methodologies, and continued to be large and in charge over the years. I'd say it's been all downhill from there, but I've rather enjoyed the ride!

I'm contemplating whether or not to ask any of my current/former submissive prospaspects for recommendation or referral letters. *laugh*sigh*  I know that those of us on here who are "real" are rare, yet here I am! I'm genuinely looking here on CS, particularly for people outside the group that frequents the local Dungeon. It's difficult to find possibilities in my local community, as my public roles are apparently a blessing and a curse -- lots of people seem to like me, however I've also heard that my position on Staff at the Dungeon for the last decade makes me intimidating. Ugggh!  So how do I adequately convey to potential sub/slaves that I'm genuine, that I'm searching online not because I'm a pariah in the local community, but because I may be too active within it, or that I'm very much who I say I am? I'm already reasonably conspicuous on multiple platforms, and I use the same ID, so easy to locate and follow. There are more than a few people on CS who can vouch for me. Does that kind of thing make a difference for a submissive who's looking?

Since I have been away for a while, have a writing entry!   There is just something about women’s eyes. The way that you can look down into them and see the arousal. You watch, never losing eye contact, your breath mingling with one another. You watch her eyes squint and then light up when your skin touches hers, the space between your bodies getting smaller. The way the hue hazes over with eagerness and need. The underlining knowledge that she craves it, the roughness, the love, the caring about her, just someone being obsessed with her, even if for those next moments spent together. The furrow in between her pretty eyes when she’s trying to concentrate on listening, the deeper furrow when she’s angry for not being allowed a release, the begging and pleading in the corners of such a beautiful color. A tornado of frustration in the depths of the pupil that send fire to her iris when she’s pinned against the surface below her, the teasing ensues. Her words match the storm you’re staring into, wanting all of the earth shattering pleasure those pretty eyes are about to give you. As her pretty mouth fixes for another vulgar attitude, you see the fireworks on the brim of exploding behind that tornado, her head falling back, eyes squeezed tight, urging the leg shivering to take over her body. Your fingers dance along her body, your mouth cascades her skin as those pretty eyes of hers start to well with the happiest of tears. Picking her head up, you let the sea of waves in her happiness wash over you, never losing eye contact as you use your tongue to clean your mess of a woman with such beautiful eyes.

I was recently asked about submission and how it is captured by people. Firstly, submission is part of a person psychological make-up. Someone who seeks to offer themselves to serve others.  However, BDSM submission maybe influenced by that but it is other aspaspects of the lifestyle that develop and deepen this attitude. Firstly, it is about focused attention where other matters are discarded in persuit of this honed idea. Secondly, it has to create an emotional arousal where the good and bad are expressed and where the good gives a real feel good factor. The final part is repeated rituals where things become common place. The way you bow or curtsey, kneel at a gesture but do not make them habits, as they need thought. So for a true submissive it is more than kink or fetish, it is about mental connection and acceptance. 

My Future Mistress I sometimes daydream about you. It is amazing how someone can become so part of your blood. I realize that you will naturally have such a deep power over me. My slave heart would easily recognize you by your demeanor. A mere gaze from you would steal my will like losing my breath, I would be captured. I would involuntarily tremble with an intense excitement and vulnerability, knowing that you own me so naturally. Furthermore, I would feel myself beginning to kneel at your feet hopelessly enamored, as if your presence alone had instructed me to do so. As if my soul was specially synced and celebrated with yours as its only primary user. My soul would be glued to yours, anticipating whatever your will was for me, and then obeying you with such zeal, that there wouldn't ever be a question of whether I'd comply. Your life would become my life. I would not have a life of my own anymore, but my purpose would be something you own. Your world would be my world, and your goals would become my goals to help you achieve. There is so much generic role playing in this lifestyle, driven primarily by sexual kinks. But what I would be feeling at this moment, is not what I could do for myself, but what I could do for my Queen. It would be the epitome of subspace. My eyes would search yours, hoping you truly see that I am genuinely connected and at your disposal. My heart would only be quenched by receiving your approval and acceptance. A person can not truly own anyone unless they first own their soul.  

Continuing our profile… We are an intelligent, attractive andrather atypical couple who are younger than our years and tend to stand out and get noticed (in alluring ways). He is an experienced top with a naturally dominant and assertive personality who has a rich variety of experience ranging from mild sexualbondage to harder-core BDSM and always enjoys tying up both squirmy rope bunnies and distressed damsels for fun or more fiendish things. She is a bottom and aspiring switch who, despite a somewhat dominant and assertive personality, enjoys being bound and sexually (ab)used.WE ARE NOT what you would expect of an older couple either in looks, lifestyle or outlook. Our sex life has never been vanilla and BDSM has always been an occasional part of that but we are not thestereotypical D/s couple. We also aren't wildly promiscuous, we don't view any of this as a lifestyle and we don't feel the need to live up to real or imaginary lifestyle stereotypes. Our interests tend to be more interested in things along the lines of ‘forced’ bondage and sexual fantasies with some S&M overtones rather than the more mainstream D/s dynamic (e.g. expectations of servitude or passive submissive roles). We’re seeking social connections with others who share some of our interests and desires but we realize that quality, compatibility and timing can be rather elusive. Given the right mutual chemistry and connection we’d be open to other things but we’re not interested in quick or indiscriminate hookups so our focus is on socializing, either publicly or privately, without other expectations. Although we are mainly interested in connecting with other couples, we’d be open to women (either curious or experienced) who piqued our interest.A proverbial female rope bunny, either single or part of a couple, who craves being the subject of creative rope bondage encounters would be an interesting find as well. In general, we tend to be most compatible with those who aren’t defined by the expectations of others (especially in the BDSM realm) and have a healthy view of their sexuality and sexual interests. Other desirable qualities include: the ability to hold an intelligent conversation, reasonably height/weight proportionate, in decent shape, non-smoker and NOT a heavy drinker or drug user. Although age is fairly open and not a significant concern to us, couples in their 50s or 60s are probably a better fit. Especially those whose looks and lifestyle belie their years. But regardless, there are expectations of somewhat unique character, maturity, quality and social fit. Obviously there should be an interest in BDSM and the willingness to socially connect without anyexpectations. Experience is always a plus but a strong interest, desire or curiosity are far more important.We are not overbearing or pushy and would likely be a couple that others, regardless of experience or nervousness, would be comfortable meeting socially. Respect and discretion expected and always assured.  

As an experienced Dominant in the leather community, I can certainly understand the appeal of consensual objectification within a safe, sane space. When I discover that my submissive derives pleasure from being treated as an object of desire, it elicits a complex range of emotions.   There is a sense of power and control, knowing I can shape their experience and push the boundaries of their submission. But there is also a deep well of trust and responsibility that comes with that. I must handle their vulnerability with the utmost care, ensuring their needs are met even as I strip away their agency.   It's a delicate dance, really.    On one hand, there’s the thrill of reducing them to a mere plaything for my enjoyment.    On the other hand, there’s the profound connection of being entrusted with their most intimate desires. It's a privilege to be granted that level of trust and intimacy. And with that privilege comes the duty to wield it wisely, to push just to the edge without ever compromising their safety or well-being.   Does that resonate with you? The heady mix of control and care, power and responsibility? Please speak to me, and let us explore this dynamic further in the confines of our sacred space.

Chasing the Dragon All she has left of her drug is dominant lovers..her dominant protective side keeps her from submitting to them; she tends to walk through life as a switch hiding her needy submissive side because the ones that she meets are disposable to her, and she tops them from the bottom gauging her danger in every encounter. They are always sexually excited, which causes a frenzy inside of them as they try to navigate her confusing waters. She looks for more than sex, but rough sex can help her feel a slice of submission until he goes too far or tries to be a Master, Dom, or Daddy (which can never happen on a first encounter) unless he shows physical restraint digging into what makes her who she is, winning her mind because sex is great but fleeting. She loves a physical touch, and her body moves to every touch, but there is a difference between someone playing a song and mastering an instrument. The one she looks for can pluck the string, keep the melody and be psychologically intense. Sometimes using her against herself to mentally catch her and explain sides of herself hidden only to be discovered in the ultimate goal to own her. It has to be more than a casual encounter; she will play, but she will remain guarded and in charge topping from the bottom chasing the Dragon until the dragon devours her......

What She Is Looking For I am not looking for a fantasy. I am looking for a life, and I expect that life to be beautiful.  The distinction matters because fantasies are performed and lives are lived, and I have no interest in someone who shows up for the aesthetic and disappears when the reality of sustained devotion asks something difficult of them. Total Power Exchange is not a weekend arrangement or a mood that gets activated under the right conditions. It is the architecture of a shared existence, built deliberately, maintained consistently, and governed entirely by my authority. If that sentence produces hesitation in you, this is not your door to knock on. What I want is a man who presents to the world as my equal, polished and capable and the kind of presence that commands a room, who comes home and exhales completely into my ownership of him. The contrast is not incidental. It is the point. I am drawn to the specific magic of a man who holds genuine power in the world and chooses, with full understanding of what he is surrendering, to place it entirely at my feet. Submission means nothing from someone who had nothing to give. I want the full weight of what you are, handed over without reservation. I require intelligence. Not credentials, though I respect those. The living kind: curiosity, attentiveness, the capacity to learn me with the focused dedication of someone who has decided I am worth studying completely. I want to be known the way Keats knew beauty, as a truth so self-evident it requires no argument, only devotion, only the willingness to stand before it and be completely undone. I will know immediately whether you have paid that quality of attention. I always know. I am a dominant woman in the fullest sense: not a role I perform but a nature I inhabit. I move through the world with the ease of someone who has never needed permission to take up space, and I expect my home to reflect that, my dynamic to reflect that, my partner to reflect that back to me in the quality of his service and the depth of his surrender. The house runs on my standards. I have the Binder, and there is ceremony in you holding it, learning it, and cherishing the standard I have created through my writing. My comfort is the first consideration in every room. There is good linen and good light and the specific luxury of a life curated entirely to my taste, and you will maintain it to that standard because anything less is not a home I recognize. My pleasure is the organizing principle of our shared life, not as imposition but as the natural order of a structure we have both chosen and built together. I want your obsession. Earned, total, focused entirely on me. I think of E.E. Cummings carrying his heart in his hands, given over completely, and I want that, the real version of it, the version that costs something. I want to be the thing your thoughts return to without deciding to, the standard against which you measure every choice, the presence that lives in you so completely that pleasing me stops feeling like a task and starts feeling like breathing. I will wring that out of you, patiently and completely, until there is no daylight left between what you want and what I require. I mark what is mine. Permanently, intentionally, with the quiet pride of a woman who builds things to last. I do not share. I do not negotiate my authority. I do not soften my expectations to make them more comfortable to receive. The contract I offer is real, the terms are mine, and I hold to them with the same precision I expect from you. Emily Dickinson wrote that she dwelt in possibility, a fairer house than prose. That is the quality of interior life I bring to everything, including this, including you, and I expect to be met there by someone whose imagination is equal to mine, whose capacity for devotion is as expansive as what I am offering in return. And what I offer is not small. My world is one of ease and intention, of travel and good rooms and the particular luxury of a life built by a woman who knows exactly what she wants and has never once settled. I will take you to Greece and Japan and every beautiful place I have decided I deserve, and you will move through those places slightly behind me, handling everything that needs handling, leaving me free to inhabit the world at full scale. You will carry my bags, you will shine my boots, you will lay out my clothing and wonder at the softness of my lingerie, you will rub oil upon my skin and marvel aat the way I soak up the golden light at the end of a day we spent together.  In return you will live inside the most extraordinary thing available to a man like you: my full, genuine, sustained attention, chosen with my eyes open, given to someone I have decided is worth knowing completely. My care, when you have earned it, is not small. My world, once I allow you into it fully, is a place that will ruin you for anything less.  I know precisely what I am offering. The question is whether you are worth offering it to, and worth being molded in my carefully crafted image.   

Things I require - because I'm human 1. Be dependable- this means to come if you say you are coming... this means to contact me if you are late... this means to let me know if you can’t come. This is important whether dominant or submissive. It is common courtesy. 2. Be honest. If you can’t make it, tell me. If you don’t want to, say you don’t. If you aren't honest in everyday things, how can I trust you enough to be with you in a relationship dynamic? 3. Communicate - I’m not needy or clingy. But a little “hey how’s your day” every now and then, or just some time to talk when you aren't red hot horny, will go a long way. How else do you get to know each other well enough to do the things we do? 4. Be public. I don’t care if you are shy. I don’t care if you are private. (in regards to going to a public event) Refusing to be seen SOMEwhere with me is a red flag.  5. Be willing to do some vanilla things. Get together for dinner. Go to a movie. Stay in for a movie. Take a walk in the park, with no promise of anything kink related or sexual. It doesn't have to cost you anything but time. There has to be a connection other than lifestyle. 6. Have SOMETHING in common with me outside of fetishes. Like the same documentaries. Enjoy the same music. Have something to talk about in our down time, because we can’t always be up. 7. Listen to me. Hear what I say. If I say it, believe it. 8. Stay in contact, and reply in a timely manner. It is a waste of time and effort if you are only going to reply once ever other week or three. Life is too short to leaving people hanging.9. Don't just ghost people. If you lose interest, or are are not interested in a first message, just say so. I will not be angry, and I will trouble you no more.   10. Expect all these things from me. Because these things are not Dominant things... nor submissive things... These are HUMAN BEING things.

For whoever needs to "hear" this.. It’s easy to feel uncared for when people aren’t able to communicate and connect with you in the way you need. And it’s so hard not to internalize that silence as a reflection on your worth. But the truth is that the way other people operate is not about you. Most people are so caught up in their own responsibilities, struggles, and anxiety that the thought of asking someone else how they’re doing doesn’t even cross their mind. They aren’t inherently bad or uncaring — they’re just busy and self-focused.. And that’s okay. It’s not evidence of some fundamental failing on your part. It doesn’t make you unlovable or invisible. It just means that those people aren’t very good at looking beyond their own world. But the fact that you are — that despite the darkness you feel, you have the ability to share your love and light with others — is a strength. Your work isn’t to change who you are; it’s to find people who are able to give you the connection you need. Because despite what you feel, you are not too much. You are not too sensitive or too needy. You are thoughtful and empathetic. You are compassionate and kind. And with or without anyone’s acknowledgment or affection, you are enough.  

My Daddy is gone After 2 years my Daddy has finally left 😔. I'm utterly devestated because he has been my everything and I feel so lost and empty without him. I know I can't be mad at him because I'm such a difficult person to be with and be around. I couldn't trust him with all my being no matter how hard I tried. I failed us both because I just couldn't get better and improve my life and just be happy. I really hope that he finds someone better because he deserves it. He had so much patience and did his best to understand me but I just couldn't deal with all my trauma and pain and it kept getting worse and worse. I know he had to leave to save himself and I don't know what to do. I don't know how to stop the men that I end up loving from leaving so maybe I just need to accept that I should be alone, so noone else gets hurt. It's the same reason that I haven't had children, I don't trust myself to not hurt them emotionally.

It was a typical Saturday morning. The normal routine of getting showered clothed and ready for a morning date with “A” at the local coffee shop. The brisk cooler weather was a welcoming site after the warmer summer we had. The bustling streets seemed more packed than normal. “A” smiled as we walked along the narrow streets and windows of the shops. The vibrant colors of the latest fall fashions luring us into each store. Pretty tops and long flowing dresses and skirts. “A” took my hand and with a big smile led me into the packed store. Making small talk as she danced around each display finger tips dancing across the fabric. Making jokes and comments with her to pick all ready through the door. “A” finally opened the door peer her head out and looking to the sides to make sure no one was watching.

 TeaMenthe