First Journal Entry I am back on here after a long hiatus on this platform, fingers crossed, it works out better than the first time.  I am here looking to make friends, and who knows what after that. One thing I have found so far is that not much has changed, those jumping into my inbox still manifest many of the prior encountered issues: trying to insta me, using titles before they have been earned, fantasy pushing, and having the sort of energy and vibe of trying to use me as a kink vending machine. I am a person first, before being a dominant, so please don't do this.  A new one on me is seeing not being willing to jump to chat apps as a red flag, as a reason to think someone isn't genuine. To be very clear, I won't jump off this platform onto a chat app after a few brief message exchanges. Trust has to be built up, a connection of sorts created first. I am not interested in one of hook-ups, but want to build something more meaningful, and that will happen on here first. In my book trying to pull me off here, after a few minimal messages, definitely is one, and strongly suggests a scammer at work, not a genuine person.  Please don't try and do that. 

Imagine yourself in a room with the one you care deeply about and trust completely.  He asks you to stand up, put your hands by your side and to close your eyes. He gives you a kiss on the forehead and asks you to do exactly what he says and only what he says.   Wanting to be a good girl you politely agree.  A little kiss on the cheek and you feel him gently unbuttoning your shirt ever so carefully to not touch your skin.  He walks around behind you and slowly pulls your shirt off while a single finger caresses all the way down your back as he tosses your shirt down. Once the shirt lands on the floor his hands are placed on your hips, both his hands go slowly up your arms and at the elbows they come together in between your shoulder blades. You can feel his warm hands unlatching your bra strap and suddenly the twins are free from their restraints. Your body begins to tingle and your blood starts to flow anticipating his hands cupping your awaiting breasts.  He denies you of his touch when you feel his hands in the small of your back. He gets closer and gives you another little kiss on your neck.  His hands then follow just above your pants line to the front and you feel a gentle bear hug with his skin pressing up against your back. Suddenly you realize his hands have made it to your belly button and started to move back to your pants line.  He holds you tight to his body and demands you kick off your shoes. You quickly comply and they go flying across the living room.      With your heart racing and the tingling going all the way to your toes he unbuttons your jeans and pulls them ever so slowly down to your ankles.  His hands occasionally brushing down the outside of your legs.  With your eyes still closed you sense him moving around front.  He calls you his good little girl and gives you a passionate kiss on the lips.  Just as quickly as it began he stops, making you yearn for more. He leans in and you feel his warm tongue placed on the front of your neck, his tongue proceeds down your chest right between the twins and continues to your belly button but stops short. Your nipples now hard as a diamonds feel deprived because they got ignored.

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

What makes me a good Domme? Simple: I actually know what I’m doing. I’m not one of these “rawr I’m dominant” girls who just yells and hopes it counts. I lead with intention, precision, and zero delusion. I know what I want, what I won’t tolerate, and what I expect from anyone who wants to be in my orbit. I’m a good Domme because I don’t chase…I select. I listen…not because I need your opinion, but because I want to understand your wiring. I prioritize your stability, not just your fantasies. I have standards high ones. Olympic-level. If you can’t breathe at this altitude, that’s a you problem. I’m funny, but I don’t play. I’m soft when you’ve earned it, and ice cold when you need it. I can make you feel seen and safe, or make your ego evaporate like tap water in July. Duality is my superpower. I don’t confuse dominance with shouting, cruelty with carelessness, or power with pretending. My dominance is lived, not performed. It’s in how I think, how I move, how I choose, how I correct. I don’t need theatrics…my presence is the authority. And the subs who get me? They don’t just behave…they grow. Because I’m not here to babysit their kinks; I’m here to shape their discipline, their service, and their usefulness. So what makes me a good Domme? Easy: I don’t just dominate your body….I refine your mind, your habits, and your entire approach to serving a woman like me.

Returning to the simple life with my 2nd In recent days I've let myself dream and imagine. Something I dared not do in the past. What wonderful experiences would be paved with carefully laid out bricks to form the perfect path? Each brick a representation of heart felt and true emotional moments of connection and understanding. Each brick carefully examined under my experienced eye as I lovingly place them. Making sure they sit solidly in place to never shift, crack or break under the weight of life's weight. Each meaningful exchange of explorations and discoveries of what I seek found inside the one. Another brick is formed then carefully set in place. The paved path quickly, maybe even too quickly causing one to question its authenticity, leading to my kingdom. My kingdom is where I rule as king and is my domain. It radiates with love, affection and admiration. Its walls are thick and built to protect my residents from any harm or threat an invader my try to assault with. The sun shine thru illuminating life and bringing warmth and comfort to those inside. It's very depths are filled with positive energy for all to absorb. Yet deep within this kingdom also resides a dungeon. It is well equipped with all one would need to break the spirit of another. A place where pain can be pleasure but pleasure also painful. The master of this dungeon is experienced in all forms of infliction. He yields the arsenal of his trade with efficient and deliberate blows. Yet the physical s at his disposal are only superceded by his knowledge of the human psychy. He is like an artist manipulating the canvas before him. Turning it from either a blank or unattractive painting to one that when looked upon will make even the hardest hearted individuals melt and smile at its beauty. Yes the road to this kingdom a complicated one but for the one who seeks eternal belonging it is Eden. If only his dreams of the completed path were true. He looks up to the heavens and is heard to say, "Is this the ONE you have sent to me? Have you taken my rib to form my Eve. If she is, please, let her be all I seek." He returns his gaze and his full attention back to his task at hand filled with hope. Alas, the God's have mocked ones again. His emotions played with like the wireless puppets we are. His eyes distracted on one as the so wittingly sneak the other in behind his back. The unexpected tale of the story taking on a life of its own diverting him from her to another. One who mysteriously was guided to that fateful meet. A message titled, "Ummm....wrong button", mysteriously appearing in his mail. The ball was set in motion like a snowball traveling down a large snow covered embankment, its momentum grew, picking up more snow that clung to it enlarging it! It's mass quickly devouring all in its path as it consumed and grew. Soon too powerful to stop it enveloped all in its surroundings claiming them as its own. As such that mistakenly sent message grew wings and soared. One message led to many which led to hundreds more. Messages soon evolving to phone calls that soon dominated their lives and became the focus of their day. She quizingly and scrutinly joins in with guarded fear of rejection and hurt. For she is not a stranger to the cause but only retreated to protect her heart from more.

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.  

Well, it seems journals are working again! Please don't ask me for meaningless play, or suggest I have an interest in you showing up now and then. I'm only interested in a real and whole relationship IN PERSON. I am the real thing, like some men seem to want... a lifestyle slave who is also intelligent and capable. I'm not moving, I own a large and lovely home that I have put a ton of money into customizing. I am only interested in a LOCAL loving dominant male who will make feel safe, and allow me to give myself to him as much as I am able, and not regret it. Yes, the "L" word. I want so much to put down my sword and shield. I'm an older lady now, so what I can do physically is limited. But I can still do quite a bit of the things that work for me, and if you have fet or alt you can see faceless pics of me and my dungeon. But mostly, I want a loving strong man who can be in charge and not make me regret it. Is that You? Right now, I am healing emotionally from giving myself entirely to someone who represented he wanted to be my Master, and then decided that being Jimminy cricket was more his style. If I were younger, I would take a few years off like I used to to heal, but I don't have that luxury now. So I have to get back in the pool.

Hot Ash ( My Thoughts ) ...  Sir Hugo Atlanta   ... "Hot Ash" is the worship and adoration of CIGARS.Its not your typical submissive fetish.I started smoking cigars when I was 13 or14 and was living in Isle Verde, Puerto Rico.I was in Old San Juan walking the quaint cobblestone streets, when I passesd a small store, with two men in the very back, the walls stacked with wooden "trays" that held pre-formed cigars prior to getting the wrapper, and band.I watched for a good while admiring their craft of hand rolling cigars. I bought a dozen or so freshly rolled cigars and lite up in the shop. The cigar was mild and had the flavor of hickory nuts, earthy.I was a young dom when I met my first "human ash tray". This was in the early 80's.This submissive girl was obsessed with "ash". She loved if I flicked the white/gray cigar ash into her cupped hands, or if I flicked it into her mouth, or even if I flicked it at her.When I blew out smoke she would take in a deep breath. I would also take the tip of my cigar and singe pubic hair leaving a burnt smell in the air. Just the act of blowing smoke into her eyes and face aroused her.The cigar made a fun probe giving the cigar a TASTE of female sex in my mouth, and the smell of female Pheromones right to my nose!!!That's really about it for HotAsh I also love having a relaxing blow-job while sitting back puffing my Artuero Fuentes 8-5-8 Claro/Candella or smoking a Monticristo #5 while having my feet rubbed and my toes sucked, as I stroke my cock looking at my ashtray."Hot Ash"Sir Hugo (Atlanta, GA)

I saw this today in someone's journal and I decided to write about it as my interpretation of what Protect the Property means.  To me, protecting the property is part of the protocols I have adopted as my own.  To my submissive, it means protecting yourself. You are charged with making sure you are healthy by taking care of yourself, eating correctly, drinking enough water, etc.  Ensuring I am well taken care of to the best of his ability.  To me, it means the same for myself, and it means I am to ensure my submissive is well cared for.  To both of us, care for the relationship. Water the garden of the relationship, and help it grow together. If the relationship is not cared for, it will not succeed and this is done by both of us. 

She loved that look. Kneeling, eyes cast down: she saw meekness, obedience - also a spark of resistance: shame, pride, regret, lust. Regret for freedom lost, shame from the knowledge that it was his own slave nature to give it up, pride that she took it. He desired to submit to her, his surrender brought him shame, the shame aroused his desire.Her dominance was attuned to the contradictions in his heart. She knew how to wrap them like cords around him. He might seem to have a choice. He did not. She confronted him with what he was; the only escape would be for him to deny his nature. This he could not do. So long as she chose to control him, he could only submit.She saw this even more clearly than he did. A part of her regretted taking his freedom - but that lost look in his eyes was so delicious, his impulse to obey was so pleasing, his spark of resistance so exciting to play with - and after all, it was his own nature to submit, just as it was her nature to rule. This is how it was meant to be. And she loved it.

Today marks the beginning of my search for a domestic servant to assist with various household tasks. I am looking for a unique arrangement that emphasizes mutual comfort and understanding.    Position Overview:  Type: Unpaid  Responsibilities: Light housekeeping duties, organization, and general assistance around the home.  Skills: Massage skills would be a notable plus, as I appreciate relaxation and wellness.   Working Environment: I welcome a clothing-optional atmosphere, prioritizing comfort and personal freedom. It’s essential to foster an environment where both the servant and I can feel at ease.   I will take time to thoughtfully consider candidates, ensuring they align with these criteria while maintaining a positive, respectful dynamic.    As I navigate this search, I’ll focus on effective communication and transparency to cultivate a healthy working relationship.

== Results from bdsmtest.org ==  100% Slave 100% Rope bunny  96% Submissive  91% Masochist  89% Non-monogamist  86% Pet  83% Brat  80% Experimentalist  79% Degradee  71% Voyeur  62% Primal (Prey)  43% Exhibitionist  34% Vanilla  3% Ageplayer  0% Daddy/Mommy  0% Rigger  0% Owner  0% Master/Mistress  0% Sadist  0% Boy/Girl  0% Dominant  0% Switch  0% Degrader  0% Brat tamer  0% Primal (Hunter) 

The Final Touches   She had been sent here for the final touches, she was now old enough to be taught what would be expected of her. Dressed in official school attire she looked resplendent in her pleated skirt, white blouse, short white socks and lace up shoes. Her hair was up in a pony, as she had been told was the custom. Outside the principal's office the hallway was deserted, everyone else had gone for the day. The school secretary sat behind her desk filling out some tedious form or other, she didn't look away from her work, leaving Tara to look her up and down. Late 40s she guessed, maybe early 50s, blonde shoulder length hair, formally dressed, lipstick seemed a little red and garish for the setting but it certainly caught the eye. Time passed slowly. She wasn't sure how long she had been there and the clock on the wall seemed to tick at a glacial pace. "In my office Ms Tara", she heard a deep voice say from behind the door. As she tried to get her bearings the secretary looked at her, "Well? Don't keep him waiting girl." She grabbed her purse and hurriedly walked to the door, then stopped. Deep breath, focus, she took a brief second to adjust herself, and opened the door. "Hello Mr ..." she started to say "You address me as Sir, just Sir" came a response that cut her off abruptly "Hello Sir" she replied "Come in". He gestured to the front of his desk.  She moved to sit down but realised there was no chair, it had been pushed back against the far wall. "You can stand" he said, without any sense or irony knowing it was her only option. "Feet apart 30cm, hands behind your back, stand straight girl" He picked up the cane that she hadn't noticed laying across the desk, and walked slowly behind her. Gently he tapped the inside of each calf. "30cm girl. You have been sent here for finishing touches, not the basics" She shuffled a bit in place until her cunt was just open enough to tell her that her feet were 30cm apart. "Much better Ms Tara. Work on your basics or we will have to send you to one of the junior classes with the new girls" She could feel herself clenching as she had been taught to do, his cane slowly slid up the inside of her thigh until it was touching her bare cunt. She could feel him gently pulling on it, and as it slid through her lips she clenched tightly. For a second she held the cane firm, she knew he would be pleased with how tight she had gripped it. But he would be even more pleased at how easily it slipped out of her grip when she flooded a moment later. He walked slowly in front of her. "Good girl" he said, "Not a complete beginner then" He slowly pulled the cane across her blouse, across her nipples, cleaning her juices off his cane, and highlighting both hard nipples clearly through the damp circles on the thin top. "There girl, when you are aroused it is good to show it" And by whatever God was willing to listen right now, she was aroused "Thank you Sir", she proudly said

My Name is Sara Sands I am a transgender M2F, I have always felt Femmine and submissive but not a Slave type, I have a great deal of experience in D/s and always craving to learn and expand my submission deeper, I have served Dom Men, Domme Females and Domme trans, and Dom/Domme couples I am very obedient and very clean, I know from my yrs of meeting that a Dominant and submissive connection starts with Mindset, Sexual acts are the product of unlocking that mindset, Verbal control of me to start is key to my submission, The only way I have found pleasure is in serving and pleasing my Dom/Domme Humiliation and Punishment, I understand is a tool to remind me of my place and purpose, Once I have given my gift of submission to a Dominant I do as I'm told without hesitation or resistance, I have limits that I know will be tested but do know they would be respected, I am openminded/kinky. This is my first Journal Entry, I will be adding more in time, Starting with some real-life meets both the good ones and bad ones, Sharing the bad meets I hope will maybe spare others the mistakes I've made in judgment Thank you, anyone, that has taken time to read this intro of myself , Sara

Please do not contact me if only you are looking for a chat buddy. I will not endlessly text with anyone.  There should be progression in getting to know someone and not just text messaging. There should be phone calls at some point when both are comfortable. But if I have text back-and-forth with someone for a couple of months I will lose interest and discontinue communication. I don't know about anyone else, but for me personally typing in a code every time I send a message gets tiresome. At some point the conversation needs to be taking either by voice or video chat. I'm sure we have all come across scammers or fakes pretending to be something they are not. I do not mean just men, women as well. Just because I am submissive does not mean I am gullible or a doormat. I am a submissive woman, not your submissive. Be respectful of my time as it is a valuable resource just like yours is. Respect is a two-way street.   FYI: I am seeking a masculine/Alpha man that is tall, I prefer men 6'2 or taller. Although no shorter than 6 feet tall. 

I have, in the past 6 months, been messaged by 2 different men who had something about raceplay in either their messages or in their profiles.  Allow me to be perfectly clear: any racial slur, race play, homophobic slur, misogyny, or domination from any aspect of supposed genetic superiority is a limit.  I grew up having various slurs directed towards myself, family, and friends and they are a quick way to have me block you. I mean the following in an honest and non judgemental way: if you have those desires, I would encourage you to look into your personal history and see why you have those desires or urges and honestly discuss them with a licensed professional.  It is often a product of internalized hatred towards yourself or others through no fault of your own.  Talking with a professional will help you to a much happier place where you can feel more comfortable with yourself and others. BUT, do not send me messages with any form of racial, transphobic, homophobic, or misogynistic slur in them.  It will lead to me immediately blocking you and reporting the message.  Having anything about race in your profile (other than your own) will result in a short message and me blocking you.  You are only harming yourself and it's a hard limit for me.  Consider this your one and only warning.

Ok, here goes another journal entry, another step down this path… As always, I am subMeghan, and as required, as I type this this, I am completely nude, except for my dog collar and glasses… First things first. My Dom got a new toy for me.  It’s called a “cheek retractor dental mouth gag”.  Here’s a link to what they are: https://www.extremerestraints.com/cheek-retractor-dental-mouth-gag.html We’ve been trying it out this weekend and so far we are both really liking it…  a lot!  My Dom just loves, loves, loves how I look when I wear it.  I knew right away that he’d like it from the perspective of fucking my mouth, but he also is obsessed with me just wearing it. In fact I am wearing it right now as I type.  In fact, I’ve been wearing it around the house most of the weekend.  As far as gags go, all in all, it’s really comfortable.  Compared to some other types of gags, breathing is not an issue at all.  Drooling of course is unavoidable. And yes, I’ve got drool all over my chest. (My Dom loves to see me drool.)  I just need to make sure I don’t drool on the keyboard. lol This has all been part of a puppygirl weekend, which is something we do from time to time.  In a nutshell, I spend the entire weekend as a nude puppygirl, doing any number of puppygirl activities.  I get off on it which only makes the sex all the better. (Perhaps I’ll elaborate of that in a future journal entry.) Enunciating while trying to talk while wearing this gag is extremely difficult.  So I haven’t been saying much this weekend.  However, I can still make barking-like noises.  Lol  You literally cannot say “woof” or “bark” while wearing this gag.  I ended up going with an “arf” like noise... We ended the session about an hour ago and now I’m human again.  This will give me enough time to take care of all the weekend chores around the house. That’s about it for now.  I’ve got chores to do.  So, this is naked, drooling subMeghan signing off. Until next time... 

Your possible future... You feel so irremissibly subjugated awaiting further use. You succumb to be possessed, my sweet slut, my owned and private slut, you are my pleasing toy. You are just lying there quietly on all fours as ordered; bare and shameful exposed under the excruciating tease of my eyes behind you. Your whole being at my disposal. I will play with you, you know I will, but you don’t know what my play will be, you can only fear and excite on anticipation. I just slide my hand over your ass, and you immediately shiver slightly. Oh, you are behaving so well, no spank yet. I rub a couple of fingers deep between your labia and I enjoy feeling you quiver. Then I force your head back, pulling your hair with my other hand as I put those fingers in front of your mouth. You know what to do, that is it, stick your tongue, lick and clean solicitous your own juices; well done. Meanwhile my cock is already inside your enraptured ass. It is stiff and motionless for the moment, just pulsating in there, but you anticipate that it will start moving, thrusting your senses out without compassion until your outer-self dissolves, your consciousness became nothing, and eventually you turn into a sweaty distressed body utterly possessed between my hands; oh my devoted slut how do you dread and intensely desire that. But getting there is a long process, although delightful too. You trust me your being, you give up your everyday facade upon me, and that is not easy. We talked a lot. I wanted to know about your ideas, your beliefs, your fears. About how you masturbate, about what the fuck makes you wake up from social somnolence.  Talking with more than words. Don’t you understand? I don’t just fuck your body; I fuck your mind into the deepest waters. There is nothing I can do if you are not released to sweetly cry embracing in my lap. Then I may allow you to give me pleasure. Then I may control everything you can do, or wear, or experience. Play gradually with your skin and give full purpose to your orifices. Then I can degrade you in a way only we understand, my lovely slut. But that is not yet, we are not even in the beginning; you have to write to me first. I started this describing the end, but now I am going to end talking and you have to start writing me.

I've been asked a few times how far I'd go with modifications. The short answer is as far as I can without limiting the toys usefulness. Ideally to turn her into a combination of Jessica Rabbit and Hellraiser. So if I find someone as into modifications as I am this is what I'd do. If not, then not. Reality is, if I connect well with someone who has no interest in any of this, the relationship takes priority. I need to find a surgeon who will do some semi illegal procedures once I find a toy. The polypropylene breast implants certainly, so it's udders never stop growing. If not, then silicone up to an H cup. Bone anchor rings in its ankles and wrists to make hobbling it simple and permanent. Pull out its teeth with dentures to be used so it looks better, until it's time to use it orally. The tracheostomy as I already mentioned. Shorten its Achilles tendon so it can only stand in ballet boots. Ass implants if squats don't create enough.                                                                        The rest of the changes I can do: Total hair removal except for pigtails. The nipples, septum, clit and labia all pierced with 8 gauge rings. The tongue split and each side pierced cross ways. Induced lactation. Chastity piercing. Brands and tattoos of ownership as well as for punishment and humiliation. Corset training to 14-12 inches.

1/25/25 Are there Dommes of quality in New England or NYC?     As I have said in my profile, I'm nominally a dominant man, very much the take-charge sort of person, and have fully explored D/s as a MDom. I was hoping that there would be a few Dommes who could make my head spin, my heart race, and shift my libido into overdrive. Someone to make me want to throw caution to the wind and put myself in your hands, kneel and worship you.     Sadly, the landscape is pretty barren, barely out of school “dommes’ who want money, or others who wouldn’t catch my eye on the street. Engage my mind as well as my libido and I will worship and please you as only a well-rounded, complete man can.  

Struggles of a Sapiosexual/Demisexual in a Hyper-Sexual WorldAs I have matured thru the years, it's now clear that without finding someone mentally, and emotionally attractive, it all just feels somehow incomplete. Without some connection to a real person with a genuine personality, they can be pretty and sexy, but . . . It really doesn't do it for me.And here in lies the problem.In today's hyper-sexual, transactional and instant-gratification society, how does someone like me, take the time to connect with another before the tug of physical exceptions frustrate the individual and kill the tempo.Yeah, I know. Its easy to say, I'm just not finding the right people who are also Sapiosexual/Demisexual, but we all know everyone is comprised of shades of grey and even those who lean in that direction feel the pressure of the "quick-fix".Not sure what to actually do about it, other than to continue to be clear up front about who I am, what my needs are during the "approach" and look harder for alignment with the individuals I talk with.But it is still frustrating.

One thing I see over and over again here, and on every other social media site are CD's looking for a "Daddy" or a Mistress to transform them. Realistically, no one is going to take you in, clothe you, feed you and pay for your transformation, especially in this day and age.  You are going to have to work your ass off and do it yourself.  Strive to hone your makeup shills and make youself pretty and desirable. The fantasy of being transformed and kept as a sex"slave" with no responsibilities other than being available for use is a wonderful one, but just that, a fantasy. Try starting off with a  skill set that might set you off from the crowd, even if it is only domestic service. There is so much more to being a service maid than teetering around in 6 inch heels and dusting. My requirements are even more demanding. But the rewards can be great as well.

we meet for the first time in 7 days  I hope this is the last time I meet a new Master and my search is over. So over being letdown for whatever reason. I'll always feel like we could've been great together and even though I understand why you ended it,it still hurts and my head is making sure I move forward.but my heart ..well it's still hurting and you will always hold a special place in it. But I'm so looking forward to this next chapter in my life and do far,it's been great..I've only fucked up once ..maybe twice. I'm not a perfect slave,I have serious hangups n they do surface sometimes and they do impact on the way I perform set tasks,but when I fail I own up and take responsibility  That said,I think some slack should be applied in a new relationship or agreement,I see massive differences between the Masters ive played with and been collared by and it's so much fun learning and experiencing these differences. I am eager to learn and experience all you bring to this relationship if you do decide to collar me,but if you do or don't,it has been a fun journey anyway.i sincerely hope your my forever Master,it's tiring trying to find a match,don't get me wrong it's fun chatting n getting to know people,but I know what I want and I'm over wasting my time .

My primary focus is on improving myself, my life, and my finances as I need my own business(es) going to get the fuck off SSI. I like to go out and do things.    Not just sex.  Like really, to all the men who think offering their random tongue to be used is attractive, it absolutely is not.  Buy some dental dams if you are tongue slut.   My first thought is how many std's do you have!?!?!    You can get them from oral sex and people who are full on adults who think about sex primarily, turn me off.  I understand it from teens to 30's... when you get to 40's or older, you had better have a lot more to talk about, think about and exist for you to to talk to me.    I got so bored with my last toy because he was ONLY a walking fucktoy, with paranoid delusions. The mind is a massive playground and you miss out just thinking about actual physical sex.  Lola the Iron Mistress  

Spot The difference Mark had a secret, one he kept even from himself most days. Tucked away in a encrypted folder on his laptop, labeled "Tax Records 2018," was a collection of stories. They were all variations on the same theme: powerful, confident women taking lovers while their husbands watched from the shadows, sometimes in anguish, sometimes in ecstasy. For Mark, these were a potent escape. In his mundane life—as a mid-level accountant, as a husband to the lovely but predictable Sarah—he was anything but powerless. He managed their finances, he decided on home repairs, he was, in every measurable way, the man of the house.   The fantasies were a complete inversion. They were a safe, controlled way to experience the loss of control. The humiliation in the stories was a curated spice, a theatrical performance of vulnerability that held no real-world consequences. He'd read them late at night, the glow of the screen illuminating his face, the scenarios playing out in his mind as a form of psychological release. He imagined the mix of jealousy and arousal, the complicated knot of emotions that made the fantasy so compelling. He even toyed with the idea of bringing it up to Sarah, but the words always caught in his throat. How could he possibly explain wanting to feel small and insignificant to the woman who relied on him to be anything but?   The fantasy was a perfect, self-contained jewel. The reality was a shattered mess.   It started with a shift in Sarah's behavior. A new, almost furtive energy. She started wearing perfume to work, which she hadn't done in years. She became protective of her phone, turning it screen-down on the counter. Mark, armed with the "knowledge" from his stories, told himself he was being paranoid. This wasn't like the neat narratives he read. There were no knowing glances, no whispered confessions. This was just… weirdness.   The confirmation came not through a dramatic confrontation, but through mundane technology. He was syncing their family photos to the cloud and her phone's camera roll automatically backed up as well. There, amongst pictures of their dog and a recent work event, was a short video. He tapped it, expecting a clip of a friend's birthday.   It was Sarah, on a hotel bed he didn't recognize, her head thrown back in a laugh he hadn't heard in years. And there was a man's arm, a tattoo of a coiled snake on its forearm, wrapped around her. The sound was off, but he didn't need it. The intimacy in the frame was a physical blow.   In his stories, the moment of discovery was the climax. The husband would feel a jolt of electric humiliation, his stomach would clench with a painful, illicit thrill. He would be aroused despite himself, his body betraying his mind as he watched the scene unfold.   Mark felt none of that.   He felt a cold, sickening hollerness in his gut. His hands started shaking so violently he dropped his phone. The screen cracked, spiderwebbing over the image of his wife and the snake-tattooed arm. He didn't feel a perverse thrill. He felt like he was going to throw up. The air in the room became thick and hard to breathe. This wasn't a carefully constructed narrative of power exchange; this was a raw, ugly betrayal.   The fantasy had always been about *him*. His reaction, his journey, his complex feelings. The wife was a catalyst, a powerful figure in his psychodrama. But this reality wasn't about him at all. It was about Sarah and her secrets. He wasn't an audience member in a consensual performance; he was the fool who hadn't even known he was off-stage.   When Sarah came home, she saw his face. She saw the phone on the floor. The story tumbled out, messy and tearful. It wasn't about power or dynamics; it was about loneliness and feeling invisible and a stupid, drunken mistake at a conference.   As she spoke, all Mark could think about were the stories. The clean lines of the text, the articulate descriptions of agony and desire. They were a lie. They were pornography, not reality. They had romanticized a pain that was, in truth, just jagged and brutal. There was no arousal in his devastation, no liberation in his humiliation. There was only the crushing weight of a broken trust, a thousand times heavier and more real than the paper-thin fantasies he'd used to distract himself from the very real possibility of such a pain. He had wanted to play with fire in a controlled environment, only to discover that in the real world, you just get burned.

I was logging in the other day when I spotted a random profile, where the owner was bragging he'd had a profile on here for some 11 years, I nearly said something to him as to however long you've had a profile on here doesn't make you a better Dom, anyway my seventeen years trumps his eleven. I'm sixty five in a few day's time, the first thought that enters my mind most mornings is "How the hell did that happen"I've spent many years looking for my miss right I guess if I've not found her by now the chances are I'm not going too. I spent far too many years fighting to stay alive I guess I just missed out on life, but I can't say I've been unhappy I've just never really known the joy of finding a partner, there was a few attempts but nothing that lasted for long, I did have a live in sub for a few years but she turned out to be violent and on one occasion managed to put me in hospital. It's said what one has never had one will never miss, I really don't know how true that is.

Since my last journal entry things have moved on fairly significantly. Glenn who is Sue's former bull from years ago and his partner Deb are very active swingers as well as being into the bdsm scene and have encouraged Sue to visit them on a fairly regular basis. At the moment she is going virtually every other weekend plus the occasional night away. I will confine this entry to just one of her visits and hopefully keep you updated on a more regular basis if anyone is interested.  On this particular occasion Glenn and Debs were going to an event up country so rather than Sue drive down to there house she arranged to meet them at Exeter services and I was to drive her there. Sue had taken the Friday and Monday off to allow plenty of time. Usually Glenn specifies what Sue should wear for the journey and this time was no different although a little more discreet as they would be stopping at services, so Sue was dressed in a silver satin blouse, black knee-length skirt, but with a rear slit, black seamed stockings with suspender belt and black patent heels as she wasn't driving. Over this her shiny pvc mac, she was in full make up including bright red nails and wearing her handcuff necklace and ankle chain and I must admit she looked so fucking sexy. At the services I dropped her off in the carpark and she walked into the entrance to meet Glenn and Debs pulling her wheeled suitcase that had several outfits, toys and hoods in. I was in my new tiny chastity cage and wearing satin panties and stockings under my trousers as instructed by Glenn.  I will add more as soon as I have time. 

I'm sorry to my lover.I'm sorry I'm so unrefined;to leave all the things we hadbehind. No one has a smileFor a ship sinking a mile,Or a satellite gone astray.So I say.I sow sorries.Across these distances;I should have stayed in yourembraces, liberating me. I know you wantedto save me and hold me -wash my sins away.But I run away.So you say.No one can be our witness,No one can understand us.And when we misunderstandeach other we become pointless.I am not saying I know why.I am not sayingI can justify or rectify a goodbye.But I already miss you andthese sorries are bearing a cost.I am so lost without you,And feel my sorries are pointless, too.-dirtydarling

Once agion I am reminded that "Werner Heisenberg — ‘Not only is the Universe stranger than we think, it is stranger than we can think. so there is hope

I’ve been sitting with an idea lately… Something physical. Intentional. Real. Not just another space where people hide behind screens and curated personas—but a place where presence matters. Where energy is felt the moment you walk in. Where structure, atmosphere, and expectation all exist without needing to be explained. A fetish-inspired bar and restaurant.In South Columbus. Not chaos. Not a free-for-all. But a refined environment—where power, dynamic, conversation, and culture can exist in the same room. Where people understand how to carry themselves. Where discretion and awareness aren’t optional—they’re expected. A place where what you are isn’t something you type… it’s something you embody. So I’m curious— Would you actually show up for something like that? Not online interest. Not fantasy support. Would you walk into that space, present yourself properly, and exist within it in a real way? Because ideas are easy. Building something real… requires the right people. — Mistress Nikki Vixen

This profile is severely out dated and with the current way that it takes forever to get your account re approved and reviewed , im worried about loosing contact with amazing people , so im updating here first.     Ok firstly this is no longer a Dominant profile , I gave it a go for a partner but it was not for me .   I much prefer the slave lifestyle and to be owned n controlled , and I very heavily prefer the absolutely sadistic and more intense Experiences all the way around.    I'm seeking  a Hellashish amount of CBT , and would absolutely adore it if I could find an owner or  owners that would want to use me partially or fully as their personal toilet .      Open to.relocation , although it'd have to be a live in , even if out in the barn , type of situation.    I'm very open minded and just want to find a home that will enjoy torturing and hurting the every living bajeebus out of me on a regular , who would benefit from my labors. Skills and dedication of time , energy and life to them.

  Hooded, cuffed, naked to the waist,  he smelled the car, heard the sounds of the engine cooling. Her smell, that too mingled with the smell of fear in his leather clad nostrils.     The door to the entrance of the townhouse was one step up and forward. By grabbing his belt and firmly tugging, she lead him up the step. His shoes stumbled, explored and found their footing.  Softly, with a definite and solid thud, the door closed behind him. The metallic click of the door lock was unmistakable.   An anti room perhaps. Mud room? Laundry room? Utility room?   The floor was ceramic tile. He realized it when she unbuckled his belt and unfastened his pants. Without any word of command or explanation, he felt his trousers and shorts pushed to his ankles. He imagined her face near his naked crotch as he felt her gripping his leg and intuitively understood she wanted his shoes off and one leg at a time his trousers were gone. Through his socks, he felt the cold hard tile.   He almost lost his balance and fell when he felt her hair brush his inner thigh as she stood up.   He felt himself shiver in the coolness of the room but trickles of sweat ran down each side of his torso from under his armpits.   Suddenly he had the urge to pee. How would he make her understand? Unconsciously he began to dance that childish dance of holding back the yellow stream.

Her hands held the pen, the black ink swirling across the page as she signed the contract. The last time she would ever see her real name, the last time her date of birth would even matter. She paused, holding her breath in her shuttering lungs… and as the seconds ticked by like years, her lung’s released and the chime rang. The electronic paper instantly sealed the contact and the encryption code saved to the nanochip.A metal arm came from the wall, and in a quick second her eyes blinked, and the chip engaged.She was still her, her personality, her smile, her spirit, but her body now belonged to the New American Order. She fought as long as she could, the price of housing and food had risen so high she was living so poorly. They had removed all unchipped teachers long ago, uncipped could not work jobs that paid in NAObitcoin. She could only get paid in paper money which only unchipped could spend. The black market was dangerous and she knew the consequences.The government now allowed people to elect to be chipped as household wifes. They would live a normal life, raising children, and making their families a unit, and thus rebuilding the community which once made this nation strong.She was a beautiful women, her long auburn hair landed in near perfect curls, her beautiful eyes could sink the universe. She held a PHD and would make an excellent home school teacher for a man who had a large family.She sat in the chair, gripping the skirt if the dress, and staring at the wall. A screen came on and the host started talking.“Gentlemen of the NAO tonight we have a wonderful selection of wives. They have all signed in willingly so there are no confinement rules for these women. Lets get started.”The door to her room opened and she stepped in to the hall. She took the step and closed her eyes, her sister got a nice man, they are so happy. She was going to have the same, she knew it.“First we have this beautiful older model, she will bare no children, but she is sweet and caring. She has a good voice, pleasant demeanor, tested level 9/10 in cooking and house keeping, she scored 10/10 in intellect. As you know gentlemen she will be tested for sexual abilities, her current rating in the outside was 4.6 so definitely above average but those chipless have no idea.”The door opened at the end of the hall, she walked quickly to the door, she had watched this millions if times on the tele. It had become required viewing but the poor only got to see the limited view, they put so many propaganda commercials in the show it was hard to really understand what was happening.The men in the room were all high class government officials, they were all men who had created the order, and their first wives were probably in work camps, or dead from the war. The rebels attacked their homes and wives, so many ran to other countries at the end of the war. Now other countries were turned to watch as NAO rebuilt and became the world leader of technology and education.The days of the starving poor was over, well as long as you chipped up. If you were a normie your life didnt change except you had no rent, no bills, but you worked for the government and ate what the government gave you. It wasnt a horrible life, you married in your class, and lived happy. The problem came with people like her. She was smart enough to live with out the system, pretty enough to be a wife, refined and well skilled, and her date rating put her on their radar.She only signed up to find a match, she was sick of her lonely home. They just started letting nochips on the site and she knew better!When her rating hit its highest the rent in her area went up, the power for vehicles tripled, food prices doubled. She got a speeding ticket and that was it… she couldn’t pay her rent… and there Lacy was, to offer her a spot in the highest ranked tv show in the History of the planet. It was required watching in the NAO and many international countries allowed their citizens to watch and participate, part of the new Jenniva treaty.So here she was, the room was black, the ceiling back, the bed and everything painted in the darkest black. She stepped to the door and the door behind her shut.“Remove your dress and precede to the bed.” The audience wouldnt see anything, its black, there is no light, but there are speakers and they can hear everything. She pulled her dress off and sat it next to the bed. She was stark naked, her large breasts we’re hanging from her, her body shivered as her hair tickled her back. She crouched down and lay down on the bed.“Place your right hand on the board. Place your left hand on the left board.” Her arms moved and then click the magnet locked, they had implanted her with magnets and chips throughout her body. The lights clicked off. For a second she could hear movement and then the headphones clapped down on her head. Hands ran down her body and the audience cheered as the meter stared to rise. His hands found her face and he pulled her in to a kiss, his tongue darting about and dancing with hers. His other hand found her pussy, and he clamped his hand down. The meter went to 1.0, and then his finger slipped inside, her body wetting for him, his head tilted, and his eyes flickered in to the darkness. “Ohhh a fun one.” He whispered in her ear. His fingers began working her clit and her body responded, he rubbed and twisted and pulled as she moaned loudly. Her chip holding her back from orgasm but leaving her right in the edge. He paused, and his mouth found her breasts which made her moan loudly again as the meter kept rising 3.0,4.0,7.0. The crowd started to whisper as no one had ever gotten higher than 8 and she was just starting. He pressed his cock against her, his large head pushing hard, as her rating went higher, and then he pushed in, hard. His huge cock filling her and pushing hard against the top of her as she moaned loudly, the harder he pushed the rougher he got the more she moaned and flooded him. Her hips moved with his, drawing him deeper, harder as she ground herself in to him. He reached up and put his hand on her neck, the default for allowing an orgasm during testing and she came. Her vagina pressed in on him pulsating hard as he continued to pound her, she came hard over and over moaning loudly. He stopped for a second and stepped back. “Turn over.” Her wrists released, and she flipped over, she had not had sex like this in years, she forgot it was anything other than a glorious night of love. He gripped her hips and pressed his cock in to her ass, as she arched her back and moaned out loudly. He started to work her ass slowly and then harder and harder pounding her hard. She shook as his hips hit her ass with a force she couldn’t believe. It almost took her breath how hard and good it felt. He reached up and grabbed her hair and held it tight slamming in to her harder, his other hand found her clit. He wouldn’t let her cum, he had decided now she didn't get anymore, they were all his. He pressed harder and harder, her body sweating and her breathing rough he continued, as he came he slapped her ass hard. The number blinked on the wall 8.7 highest first test score. The room blacked.. the commercial started, and men whispered among themselves.“I think i might have enough to purchasing that one.” A tall dark gentleman spoke. The room fell silent, as a bell rang which meant a second test was requested. The testing fee was not cheep, but someone needed to know her limit.Two men with night vision glasses came in and helped her straddle a round saw horse, her leg magnet locking in place, her wrists, she could no longer move.“Its time for the maximum orgasm test!” The host spoke in an over excited tone, his own body reacting to the sights. The lights turned off and above her head a digital board read 4.“According to the chip she has already orgasmed 4 times, remember folks the highest score ever is 70, in 2hours and 10 min. Once we start this test we will continue the auction.She was cold, but as soon as she felt it the sensation went away, the chip overriding the warning. A buzz starts in the background and her body starts to prepare, the sound of a milker clicking away behind her also made her body react. The buzz and tick tick take her in to a trance, and her body relaxes. He inserts a large 1 inch dildo inside if her, he clips the vibratior clamp on her clit as she lets out a loud yelp.“Mute her please.” The host says quietly. The man hits a button and her moans quiet and she starts to orgasm.“Oh no not yet kitten we aren’t even there yet.” His deep voice echoed in her ear, as thr command found its protocol, her body slowed the orgasm, and then liquid squirts on her ass as he presses in and works a large plug, its vibrations start to sink with the dildo. Her entire body clamped down, which only made the sensation stronger as she orgasmed hard. "oh yeah I should… release." as the word echoed in her empty mind the orgasms rushed in..10,11,12,13… her biometric system counting orgasm after orgasm.He smiled in to the dark as the goat milker cups attached to each breast and turned on low, then higher and higher, as it sucked her 38h breasts deep in to the glass, 22,23,26.He stood there watching with his night vision , his prize will be a percentage of her price, 30,31,32. He grabbed a flogger and whipped her ass hard, a flood of orgasms came in 41,43,44. He spanked her again, 50."Gentlemen our special purchase has hit 50! can you believe that? alright next is 35, rating 4.5, cooking 6 but comes with optional upgrade option, overall sex rating 8 with a maximum daily use 3 times… the bidding starts at her debt to the NAO of 100 Naobitcoins. Let the game begin. " the host pointed to the screen where bids were flying in from all over the world."The timer has started… bids are up to 2,000… 2,300… 3,2,1. 2,600 NAOBC… And your name is Cynthia. congratulations and may you live in the peace of your submission. " the audience said along with the host."now were are we at with our live test… 67 in 30 min, 68,69,70! she beat the record! She sucked breath in to her lungs as her body just kept going, she was dripping with sweat, her body begging for help, her moans muted her voice box turned off as she cameover and over. The machines clicked off her body shivered, and the chip took over, her hands and legs released as she stood, her brain not fully functioning. She walked to the bed her legs shaking and pulled her dress on. A door opened to a bathroom, an entire crew of beauty and glamor experts stood there. They had one commercial break to make her look fresh. She was pushed in to a shower the water spraying up and down on her in all directions. The water turned to warm air as she stepped from the shower dry and clean, the stockings slid on and clipped in to a pink and black garter. the corset top clipped in to place and then tied tight. her dress was slid over her head, and tightened down. Her hair was twisted and twirled and her makeup went on fast, a blinking light told the crew it was time.“Gentlemen it is time. How much would you pay? The time starts now…..” the     

Since I seem to get the same questions over and over I will answer them here and save me and anyone asking time and effort: Q: Would you consider a male slave?/Do you ever play with a male sub? A: Not really. My style of BDSM is very sexual and since males doesn't attract me sexually I wouldn't enjoy a male slave. I might consider a male slave as part of a submissive couple, but then again he couldn't expect much sexual interaction between him and me. Q: Would you consider a CD/TV/Sissy as your slave? A: I might consider it if you are part of a couple where the other party is a sub female, or if you are very feminine, very young and very submissive. Q: Would you train my wife if I send her to you for a limited time and send me photos and films of you training and using her? A: Yes I would if you really send her AND if she is in on it. The problem with the couples and men asking for this is they disappear and erase their profile after 20 - 30 messages and sometimes the same number of mails. Most probably they were roleplaying and there was no wife OR she wasn't in on it and they din't dare to suggest it to her, or if they did she wouldn't play along. Q: Would you train me on-line?/Would you claim me as your on-line slave? A: Probably not. I used to say no way, but during the pandemic I did have a few sexual relationships with submissive girls in several countries using telephone and/or various chat apps. We shared our dirty fantasies, we shared orgasms and I had some of them do painful and perverse things on themselves on my command. Now when the pandemic seems to be over and IRL contact is possible again on-line relationships seems less attractive. I live the lifestyle IRL and even an on-line slave girl takes time and effort. It's not a definite no, but you would have to be very special and very devoted for me to consider an on-line slave.

She would probably have bent over the padded bench if he had told her too, but he had lifted her easily and firmly pushed her over it. If asked she would have reached forward and held the legs before he had secured her wrists to them. Likewise she might have spread her feet wide, but there was no choice given at all, and she was helpless. She would not have tied her hair in a ponytail but she was in no position to resist, or to stop him tightening the strap over her lower back that forced so wanton a display of her buttocks. He had bared her nipples by removing her bra with a knife. She was denied the modesty of her skirt when he tucked it up in the waistband. The tie sided panties were soon pressed into her mouth which he had been made it available by attaching her hair to the waist strap, forcing her head back so affording her only a forward view.  She was now displayed, securely bound and completely available. A familiar sound made her wonder if his intention was to use or discipline her.  He had a crop in a Velcro sealed case, it wasn’t often she regretted her music playing however it concealed enough of the sound to make her unsure, was it the crop case opening, or was it his trouser zip?   She involuntarily clenched her buttocks, this served to pucker her anus, almost inviting him to use her there. – she suddenly wondered if could serve to distract him?.. Then wondered again if he actually intended to beat her? Moments prior to her restraint he had demanded her tongue, ‘Good girl ‘he had murmured into her mouth before his hand descended and found her becoming aroused. She heard his step on the wooden floor; her curiosity would soon be resolved.

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

Vanilla Life In my vanilla life:   Lost in the pages of spiritual gems like the Master Key System, Secret, and the wisdom-filled "The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari." I'm also captivated by the magic found in books like "The Magic of Thinking Big," "The Power of Letting Go," and the timeless "The Power of Now." On a different note, I love getting lost in the realms of romantic fiction.   Yoga and jogging are my go-to activities for staying active and centered. I've delved into the realm of Reiki, even gaining practical experience, and I've honed my massage skills from the knowledge I've gathered.   My love for adventure extends to frequent trips and hiking. I'm intrigued by hypnosis, fascinated by the idea of my mind being guided by a partner's influence.   In moments of relaxation, I'm an avid reader and practitioner of deep breathing techniques. Idle moments used to be a challenge, but I'm making strides in embracing them.   Gaming was once a significant part of my life, with a PS4 that hosts titles like Red Dead Redemption 2, GTA V, Call of Duty (Aw, MW), Wolfenstein, Hitman (from Code name 47 to Blood Money), NFS (up until Payback), Max Payne, and the list goes on.

Journal Entry: Why Some Women Choose Slavery I have often reflected on why some women willingly choose to live as slaves in a Master/slave household. To outsiders, it may appear confusing—why would anyone want to surrender control of their own life? But when viewed through the lens of trust, devotion, and purpose, the answers reveal themselves clearly. For many women, there is a deep longing to be free from the constant burden of decision-making and responsibility that the modern world demands. In slavery, there is clarity. A slave’s role is defined, her place is secure, and her purpose is to serve. This surrender of control is not weakness—it is a relief. In letting go, she discovers freedom from doubt and hesitation, and in service, she finds strength and fulfillment. There is also the matter of intimacy. When a woman gives herself fully, she allows herself to be seen in her most vulnerable and honest state. No masks. No pretenses. In that surrender, bonds are formed that are deeper than most will ever know. To be owned is to be cherished, and for many women, the knowledge that their Master claims them as His gives them a sense of belonging they have always sought. Growth comes, too, from the challenges of slavery. The training, the discipline, the demands of service—all of these shape her into something stronger. She learns to endure, to obey, to strive for excellence. In pleasing her Master, she also proves something to herself: that she is capable of devotion, of transformation, of becoming more than she thought she could be. And perhaps the greatest reward is devotion itself. To give one’s life, heart, and soul to another, without reservation, brings a sense of completeness. Some women long to dedicate themselves fully, and in slavery they find the purest expression of loyalty and love. Their submission is not a loss—it is the path that brings them peace. This is why some women choose slavery in a consensual M/s environment. Not because they are weak, but because they are strong enough to surrender. Not because they lack value, but because they find value in being claimed, used, and cherished. And in that, they are fulfilled.

FAVORITE TV:  CSPAN, PBS, HTV, GAME SHOWS, HISTORICAL, WAR, SCI-FI, FANTASY, SOUNDSCAPES. ????????????????????????Senate Advances Pete Hegseth????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????WHAT???????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????WHY?????????????????????????????????????? Where is the experience necessary for the job as Defense Secretary - 3 MILLION MILITARY UNDER HIS DIRECTION Someone who holds contempt for federal workers? Taking the jobs from federal works and directing the money to make it great for Corporate America.  Why is Pete Hegseth even being considered for this postion? NO management experience for the manager of 3 million federal workers?  What?  How?  A man who furhter displays a loathing for diplomatic relations with the nations of the world we share.  Secretary of Defense unequipped to understand the necessity of healthy  diplomatic relations in The World.  If that isn't enough, he thinks women should not serve in the military becasue women detract and or are ineffectual, or worse, weakening the military due to the accomodation of women because they bleed...and are  a source of rape.   This is a vulgarly poor arguement for eliminanting representation of the human condition within our military and all of life through the elimination of the female gender.  Just another ATTEMPT TO REMOVE A WOMANS GOVERNANCE OVER HER BODY.  TO DIFFERENTIATE.  TO SEPERATE.  TO ENSLAVE WITHOUT CONSENT. Removing women in the military is NOT on the table. Removing a womans sovernty is NOT on the table.   !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!REMOVE HEGSETH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Love and War:   In the realm of love and passionate strife, Two fierce hearts clashed in the dance of life. Khan, with eyes like burning fire, Choke, with grace that none could tire.   Their love was a tempest, wild and untamed, Yet each sought dominance, their pride unashamed. In the moon's soft glow, they met on the field, Their destinies entwined, their fates sealed.   Khan, with sword held high, proclaimed his might, Choke, with eyes ablaze, prepared for the fight. Their words were like thunder, their gazes like steel, As they battled for love, with an unyielding zeal.   With each strike and parry, the earth trembled below, As Khan and Choke fought, in a passionate, fiery flow. Their love and their fury, intertwined as one, Their souls locked in battle, 'til the rise of the sun.   But in the end, as dust settled and hearts slowed, They realized that love was the only code. For in their struggle for dominance and control, They found that love's power made them whole.   So Khan and Choke, in an embrace sublime, Set aside their battle, and the passage of time. For in love's embrace, they found their true rest, As two souls entwined, and their hearts truly blessed.

I'm noticing I need to spell this out since my profile likes isn't obvious enough. I have very little interest in sex. In fact, I connect better with people who enjoy keeping someone in long-term chastity or orgasm denial than someone who wants their partner(s) to have orgasms.  I am on the Ace Spectrum - I may experience sexual attraction, and I may even get turned on by certain conversations or ideas. but this is more of an exception rather than a regular occurring event. I most likely don't want to have sex with you or be made to orgasm by you. I don't need to be fixed or trained either.  I'm quite okay with my inability to get turned on and as a good friend explains asexuality - I am more likely going to get more excited over a bowl of freshly popped popcorn than the idea of having sex.  However, if you are someone who truly, and I mean TRULY, is interested in orgasm denial and chastity please feel free to reach out to me.  Eventually, with enough teasing, and edging, with someone who knows how I get turned on, I turn into a puddle of pathetic beggingness for an orgasm and THAT is hot to me. 

pet store (1/3) you lead me into the pet store quietly, just smiling to yourself when i shiver from the cool air on my already wet pussy. you hold my hand as we walk through the store, but move to stand behind me when we get to the collars and leashes. you place your hands possessively on my hips and pull me back against you, enjoying the view down my top as my breathing speeds up. "it's time, baby," you whisper into my ear. "what kind of collar do you want?" i hadn't thought about helping you choose my collar. i had half expected to wake up one morning to find it around my throat, if i was being honest, and i was overwhelmed by the choices. i shake my head, and you feel the moment my trembling shifts from arousal to panic. you pull me closer and kiss the side of my throat. "you're not choosing," you remind me. "you're helping me, but this is not up to you." your voice is sterner now and i sink into it, letting you steady me. "clear?" "yes sir." you kiss me on the throat again, in a spot i know will soon be covered up by your collar, and i moan softly. "good girl," you murmur before letting me go. i watch you walk up the aisle before moving to the collection of leather collars. i lose track of you while i look through the rows of collars, touching the cool leather, feeling how supple or stiff they are, shaking them to see how much noise they make and how heavy they are. i turn back to you as you walk back down the aisle toward me. you pick up one of the training collars, a metal one with spikes on the inside, and hold it up, jangling it to make sure you have my attention. my breathing speeds up again and you laugh a little when i squeeze my thighs together and reach out to the wall of collars to steady myself, but you put it back on its shelf. "maybe next time," you tell me, and finish walking back to me. you reach out to touch the collar i was looking at with one hand, and the other slips under my skirt, trailing up and down the slickness coating my inner thighs. you trace those wet fingers over my lips and i greedily suck them into my mouth, moaning a little at the taste of us. you start to pull your hand away but i hold onto it, making sure i haven't missed anything and rocking my hips in time to my sucking. you laugh at my whine when you finally remove your fingers from my mouth. "such a desperate little thing you are, babe." you move to stand behind me, trapping me between your body and the wall of collars. "this one?" i don't know how your voice is completely steady, considering you have one hand under my skirt again and i can feel you getting hard. when you first brush against my pussy lips, i look around, making sure we're alone. "eyes ahead," you tell me, your fingers stroking up and down my wet cunt. "tell me why this one." "it's pretty. i like--" i stop, ging when your fingers find my clit. a light pinch from you brings me back. "i like that it looks delicate, light pink with little gold hearts." i'm trying to grind against your fingers now, but you keep them far enough away that i can't get any relief. "and?" i can't help the whine that escapes me when you slip two fingers inside me. i rock against your fingers as i continue. "i like the matching bracelet. i can wear that whenever i can't wear the actual collar. so i'm always collared. always yours." i barely squeeze it out before you're pulling your hand out from under my skirt and i whine louder. you step back and watch me as you bring your fingers to your mouth. i'm still braced against the wall, eyes closed, hips rocking against nothing. there's a trail of pussy juice dripping down my legs and i can't hold back all the little moans and whimpers. "look at you, my pathetic, wanton slut. we haven't even looked at leashes yet."

not to complain, but I'm gonna... you see, my mean evil hateful trainer took away my sugar... it's been a week of no sweet tea, sugar in the coffee, no donuts, sodas, cookies or even worse, no ice cream (who the hell does he think he is???)!!!!  honestly, except for the no ice cream thing, I am taking it pretty well... I mean, no one has died... yet...  the IGRA Royalty Competition is coming up fast, October will be here before I know it, just a few (60) more pounds to lose to my goal weight, and a few more inches to shave off the gut and waist, I'm getting there slower than I wanted but getting there... I am almost ready, just a few things left to sort out...  I still want ice cream... (are you sure this isn't "cruel and unusual punishment"?)

I am finding all about change.  The difference when talking with Dom's, Dommes six years ago.  Now talking, I am answering different to questions . I see things different. I am vulnerable, afraid at times, this is different. I feel I can't do it alone I need that voice telling what to do and following . I feel in pieces need to be reassembled. I feel it's time I surrender to be guided in this process.

I get bored easily. I returned to this site a month ago and have found it the same. Boring. No useful Slave to focus his time on Me to drive me. Pity. I see posts on Fetlife and other fetish community sites wondering where all the Mistresses have gone?  Well this one will go from here soon. Why? I am not sated by the man I seek. Tut tut  silly boys not reading what I seek, who push their own needs first and get blocked. My question: where is a submissive or Slave man who can go to dinner and behave well? Can keep his kink needs to himself until I ASK ?  Where he  follows MY Lead and drives me to munches and fetish clubs, where I will whip and cane him?  Meanwhile,  2024 promises to be a rollercoaster ride so time to put on my grip-tight-gloves. Here I go!!!

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.  

From time to time I am asked what I'm looking for. I haven't specified in my profile, and from what I'm told my description doesn't really fit in around here. Nor does my writing. I'm going to talk about the collective you, not specifically you, dear reader. Clearly you are the exception. I have been here long enough to see that most people fit into boxes. The fantasy life they won't ever live because they are afraid or established or stuck. The fantasy life they won't ever live because they aren't successful with relationships in their real lives so they look for extremes here to counter that. The exploiting for sex and excitement. The genuine living this life out in the world and here to meet like minded people. The watchers.  Here's the unpopular part, remember that you like me. I think we're all messed up to some degree and that's why we're here instead of talking to someone face to face. This isn't the place for emotionally healthy people. This is that dive bar on the shady side of town you hope no one sees you walk into that's full of regret but it makes you forget for a while. And I'm in here, too. I'm not looking for someone to take me home. I just want to swap stories and laughter. I don't think what I'm really looking for is here, but in the moment I'm all for the entertainment when an interesting conversation heads my way. Everything good starts with a conversation, even if it doesn't turn out the way you hoped. I'm happy to be pleasantly surprised, but I fully expect to walk out of this bar alone. 

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

What is wrong with people? So once again I find myself here, trying to fathom out what has happened. A certain someone from here has decided that after a protracted conversation my being polite and making sensible concessions is my being not what they seek. Honestly. This is who I am, manners cost nothing yet form the basis of my being.  I use them in everyday life and conversation and they have served me well.  Yet here once again I am faced with them being seen as negative. Where are the people on here who want to be treated like real human beings, with respect, honour, and morality? If my being me and using manners is going to offend then step away. If my asking questions is not for you then don't approach. If I want to build trust and you don't then look elsewhere. Rant over!

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.</

I DO NOT AND WILL NOT GIVE MASTERS ANY SORT OF FINANCIAL DOMINATION. Had a really bad experience with a Dom who asked me for money every week, even though I told her I was getting screwed over by an airline that owed me money. If you want me to give you control over my finances please look for someone else who has that kind of stability to support you.    

Heyo <3      So this past year I've really been losing my grip on the hope I will fine someone, let alone a Daddy.  It's been a new kind of inner crisis to navigate you could say lol.  My presence is nada on FL, and I have literally.. no family or friends/ no one in the area to even hang out with or do fun things on the weekends.. Idk.. It's been a...lot.. Anyways-  Due to my mindset and whatnot, I was shook to login today and found I have 2 and a half pages of messages to read and reply to.  If you messaged me from 05/06/24 to present- I AM  SO SORRY!!  You have not been ignored, and yes this account will remain active. I will begin sending out replies tonight and promise to be more mindful in checking my inbox regularly going forward.  I hope I haven't peeved anyone off.. of course I care!! So thank you for your patience as I get caught up this weekend <3      <3      <3       Around the beginning of this month I glanced on here and decided to bring this profile up to date and to only use this profile.  Everything on here is now current and accurate.  My B profile I have taken down/hidden, and will only pop up if for some reason this one needs updating.  That is why some may of noticed I have two.  But they were confusing as to what was when etc etc.  So if you ever messaged me on a different profile: please reach out here if you would like to chat.  Also, please note I will not be checking that profile for the foreseeable future.  Updating this profile the other day was not accompanied by a long, long wait.  That's fantastic imo.  Anyways, I wanted to clarify.  Hearts and hugs :)  It's nice to be back.  Wish me luck 🍀 

One of the first things parents teach their toddlers is that 'I want, doesn't get'. We can't have everything in this world - and we certainly shouldn't expect things to fall into our laps just because we ask for them. But perhaps the point is more about the way that we ask. After all, if you don't ask for things, why would anyone give you anything? Of course, you have to prove yourself worthy. But it's important to be clear, so that other people are able to engage fully and clearly with our goals. On that note ,although we learn, when we're young, not to voice all our thoughts, I am  someone who's prepared to take risks when it comes to sharing ideas; I  don't suppress my feelings or opinions for the sake of polite pretence. I like being with people i  can be honest and open with.

Been a while, lots going on! Some really exciting prospaspects coming up so ready to see where this path goes!   on the journey, I'm down under 220... I feel infinitely stronger than I was before and I think I'm going to just have to keep this up! lol I set a new personal record on snatches at 165 for 3 reps! I don't think I could lift that over my head even when I was younger and in good shape so yay!   on the search for the right boy... well let's just say flakes abound and I'm almost over it... oh well...     on an extremely personal level i had something I never expected to happen happen to me (advice appreciated)... I spent 16 years wondering who my birth father was, 3(ish) months trying to build a bridge between us, and 32 years trying to forget... a little over 2 months ago he reached out to me (first time ever) three weeks ago it was "hey really wanna meet with you, just say when and where and I'll be there..." so I told him Monday 1pm at my bar...  *crickets*  I haven't reached out or anything but I really wanna be petty and post how I feel while tagging him since he reached out to me via facebook... I'm turning 49 in just over a week, ive survived this long with out him... maybe I should give up and walk away? Any thoughts?

Please do not bother messaging me if you are a Sadist and can't respect my limits. Yes I have lots of limits but that just means I know what I do not like. Do not try to argue with me about them or say that I should consent to them. I will not, there is a story behind many of them so no I don't have to share my reasoning behind it. I do not care if you have trained married women before, that doesn't mean that every single married woman is going to consent to your so called training especially if you blow off their limits like its nothing.   What gets me though is telling me that flogging is all about sadism and pain, its really not and if you are a real Dom you would know that. There are many types of flogging impliments and many are not painful at all, I prefer thuddy impliments because they don't hurt yet will still get a reaction out of me. Just like you can't tell me that loosing feeling in part of your body while in bondage is just "part of the experience." No it is not, if you start to loose feeling that means something might be going wrong, I know this because a so called rope Dom told me it was "part of the experience" when I said my hands had gone numb, but a real rope Dom had told me that wasn't true so yes I know quite a few things don't bother trying to test me I will call you out on your bs. 

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

I said it and say it again, one must love these str8 males. I say that because there's one moment when finally a str8 male surrenders to a better male and offers his most intimate possession, his hole. It takes considerable time to enter such a space (you want him to come for more) but there is magic in that first entry. The man is nervous for several reasons: first time being entered, societal prohinotions, the realization that even if he doesn't do it again he allowed another male to deflowering him. Most times they reach for their penis as if to make sure it is still there. He is bewildered and with good reason, a new reality is dawning and there is no turning back. the most important moment is not the deflowering that is for me to enjoy and savor; tight, warm, and spasming. Pain, and pleasure begin a dance that takes over the whole body. I you know how to use your rod you will be assaulting the prostate and a new level is reached. All this is your reward as a bull, you worked for that but the str8 male is still hanging to whatever small idea of being str8 he possess. The reckoning comes when you let him turn, place on all four and you enter. He cannot see you, hewants to be a witness to his new reality but the only thing he can do is to grab his dick again. However, once you break in he will stret his arms and back, he has being invaded. That is still the str8 male attempting to show power and control. He wants to communicate the fact that he is still the stallion he thought he was. Yet if you know what you are doing and the assault continues on once he realizes his new role he collapses his body and embraces the bed in which his Top masculinity is destroyed. That collapse is key, his upper body flat on the bed, arms stretched, head on the side and yes closed with an open mouth uttering a silent moan. That is the moment you have conquered him, he is yours and you are his man. 

September 2022Please forgive mewhen I lie awake at nightthinking about my plightthat seems to existbetween the cracks.A setback.A throwback.A monumental slightto my almanacof what it ought to bebetween you and me.What does it meanwhen you say you forgive...but then do not giveback to me the placeat your feet.It feels like heat.If feels like exile on Main St.It feels like a heartbeatthat is nearby incompleteand stews bittersweetnothings into the backseat.Is it defeat?~dirtydarling

HEAT Tossing and turning. I just can not seem to fall asleep! I am hot so I get up and take off my t shirt. I am lying back in bed with the light beaming off my clock.......I am not worried about the time cause I can stay in bed all day today.....I try to deflect my thoughts from this apparent hot flash.....I drag the sheet down and an instant sensation is felt as it flows over my nipples........my back arches in response and I become very moist from that simple act......I push the sheet down over my naval and let it drop between my thighs........OH MY it is hot! I am aroused and I am not sure why......no other thoughts are on my mind except for me thinking about my body.......I turn on my side and the moisture has flowed between my ass cheeks........I rub my bottom and as I slowly spread my cheeks.......my pussy starts to pulsate and the moisture is thick and very warm......I slide a finger between my cheeks and run it around my hole.......so warm, so moist....WOW  

Okay, well another one just dropped out of the running lol  When he submitted himself to Me he claimed he retired in May and would be able to serve then.  I said, great, get in touch a month ahead of time.  lol  Well, we did speak once a week for an hour over the course of many weeks simply getting to know one another.   When asked how I wished to be served, I said, don't stress it, just serve Me as you served your previous Mistress of 17 years and I'll taylor you to My liking as we go.  Honestly, any man who has served a woman, knows what to do out of the gate.  The details WILL work out quite simply and speedily once under My control.  After all, do these guys honestly think I'm going to invest time into them with no return?  LOL  Ya'll are playing with Me LOL  I am NOT a fin domme in any sense of the word, however My time energy and aura are priceless and if there is going to be MY involvement their will be ROI now!  LOL So, I did My basic CSpace research which happens with any slave who happens to catch My interest - especially when they have issues and or otherwise raise suspect to Me.  Low and behold I found several other profiles across the US fitting the same descriptors!  When I questioned the self proclaimed slave, he had no idea what I was talking about (go figure lol) and yet the profiles were exact!  lol  Note to all the liars and losers - mix it up a bit or Meta Mama is going to find you out!  LOL Okay, so lady dominants, beware of the cali multi running round seeking a Mistress and due to retire in May.  He gets you interested, feels you out with all the regular promises one makes to very controlling women, then when it doesn't fit his fancy, another Mistress pops in his chat frame and tells you he has been a very naughty boy and is actually being controlled by another and so sorry but he is unavailable...but will let you know if he comes back on the market!   ROFL  Some of you guyz are a riot AND turds! ANY FEMALE DOMINANT WHO WISHES TO CONTACT ME PRIVATELY - I WOULD BE HAPPY TO DISCUSS ANY and ALL TURDS.  I shall not give personal information on the subject obtained, however I will be sharing My experience with said slaves and sharing how to spot them.  REMEMBER:  Text search is your friend.  ******************************************************************** Meanwhile, here on planet earth I continue to hear from and share with some terrific sincere and caring men.  I can only hope that we continue to come to know one another and to share more in the future.  Thank you for being the bright lights you are.  Keep up the good work and keep making those fantasists stand out like the sore thumb they are!  Kissesssss

I’ve been thinking a lot about control lately… not just in the bedroom, but in life. There’s something electric about a dynamic where boundaries are clear, obedience is chosen, and trust runs deeper than words. I keep asking myself: when does submission become empowerment? When does being controlled feel freer than being free? I’d love to hear from you—Dommes, subs, tops, bottoms—what’s the most surprising lesson your dynamic has taught you about yourself? Was it liberation, discipline, lust… or something you didn’t expect at all?

Depression wears funky shoes...does not matter what they look like, anymore, they all hurt and bring tears to my eyes. Food fills a void. And then my reflection hurts as well. Days pass. Alone most of the time with little that asks to be done. Care becomes a bird with no feathers that cannot fly. Hope is my shoe sole with lots of holes. Nothing matters. Nothing changes. Especially me...days come and go and will, till i die, my next horizon, the grave, how exciting. Sun rises and sets as if change cannot happen. Tick tock...tick tock... Am i waiting for Godot? Should i pin my eyelids open or no, maybe closed. Maybe not seeing what is before would help. And...maybe not...ah well...time heals all or, if nothing else, takes what we want and leaves us to make a legacy. i have only words to hold what has been and could never be. Something happened and joy left me.

REPOST FROM JUNE 1ST LET ME MAKE THIS VERY CLEAR!!!!! I AM NOT INTERESTED IN A LONG DISTANCE RELATIONSHIP!! I AM NOT INTO THE SISSY ect OF THIS. I ALREADY HAVE ONE AND ONE IS ENOUGH. I AM NOT INTERESTED IN ANYONE OUTSIDE OF MICHIGAN!!! I AM NOT INTERESTED IN ANYONE OLDER THAN 40 YEARS OLD!!! THESE ARE NOT OPEN TO DEBATE!!!

The Lesson in the Red Chair T.L. Duncan He showed up trembling. Not from fear—at least, not the kind he admitted—but from the anticipation he’d been drowning in for weeks. Every message he sent dripped with eagerness, with that hungry little please he tried to hide behind politeness. I opened the door before he had a chance to knock twice. “Inside,” I told him. He obeyed instantly, the good ones always do. My living room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the salt lamp and the single, deliberate spotlight shining down on the red leather chair in the center of the room. That chair wasn’t decorative. That chair was ritual.

 Byrdie