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bustealustea

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honestprofile

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I'm just looking to bully people and sit on their faces. I literally want to beat you up, make fun of you, knock you over, and sit on your face. Very simple stuff. Very straightforward. You may recognize me from FetLife, but I deactivate from there a ton. If you're local, you've seen me at Aviary. No drugs, no diseases, and no drama allowed. Long distance is a huge turn off. If I'm on here, I'm looking to meet up. BBW. I try to take accurate photos, but perceptions vary. I like being blunt, it saves time and limits communication issues. I prefer action over conversation and will grow bored of you when you talk too much. Be direct and polite, and you will receive answers and respect. Please get to the point, as quickly and gracefully as possible.

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2/6/2018 2:04:05 AM
It's my BIRTHDAY!

7/3/2017 8:03:16 AM
The findom thing is neat, and I get why you ladies are into it. You do you. I support you, from ass kicker to ass kicker, I salute you. I don't understand it online, though? If I met a sub and he showered me with gifts and money, I'd accept it. It sounds excellent, really. I get to boss you around, and buy new leather? Count me in! But I don't get how you can demand money from 3,000 miles away and feel justified or satisfied. How can you be content without the feeling of hot, welted skin beneath your palm? How can you be satiated without the feeling of a slave's tongue on your thigh? His/her shallow breath against your breast in anticipation? Is money worth the sacrifice? The joy of pulling hair? The joy of lowering yourself into one's begging face for worship? There is a lot of power in the art word. I know it. But a naked slave cleaning your kitchen? Knotting the blindfold on a trembling body? Forcing him/her to masturbate before your judging eye, with your hand on their chin and your boot resting just below their sex? I wouldn't give that sensuality for anything.

9/7/2015 7:59:02 AM
Married submissives are garbage.

"I'm married. So you can't leave any marks or bruises, and you can't call or talk to me unless you know I'm at work, and we can't go anywhere or do anything where I can be seen. So I'll contact you when I'm available, and you can lightly tap me in your house for an hour, sound good?" 

Fuck that.

If I wanted restrictions, I'd be the sub.



1/24/2014 4:31:11 PM

I have videos, photos, websites, experience, and real relationships and photos with people I've met in the BDSM community.

 

I dont have to prove myself to you.

 

You have to prove yourself to me.


1/23/2014 1:28:26 AM
You're all so ready to jump right in. You don't even ask the most important questions. You want to meet me before asking about my preferences, my health, or even my name. A selfish slave its not a slave at all.

1/17/2014 5:41:05 AM
Lacquer
 

Today is one of those days where I’m sore all over. Work was killer last night, and all of my muscles are aching.

 

You can smell something delightfully sweet as you enter the playroom. You wonder what it is until you notice the candles on the coffee table. Towels cover the twin mattress I’m laying on, belly down. There is a single towel covering my bottom. You see the little pail of warm oil beside me. I can hear you swallow, and your bare feet pad the floor as you walk to the edge. You sink to your knees above me, a leg on either side. You dip your hand in the oil and wait for instruction.

 

I signal you to start upon my shoulders with a look and a little shrug. The oil drips from your hand before your flesh meets mine, and you see a smile cross my lips. You begin working ovals into my shoulder blades. After a bit, you muster the courage to move down my back. I groan in delight, and can feel you give a little shiver. You’re wearing nothing but a tie around your neck, and every now and then it dips into the oil that rests on my skin. You notice the lacquer shimmer in the candlelight.

 

Eventually your hands get close to the towel. You look to me for reassurance, and I nod. You remove the towel, and rub my apple-shaped bottom. You carefully approach my inner thighs and smoothly add pressure. You look sad when I ask you to stop, until I turn over. Your hand devours my full breasts and tummy. You stop again before you reach my folds. I nod another “yes”, and you find every inch of me with your nervous little fingers. I am completely covered in warm liquid and devoted fingerprints.

 

I chuckle to myself, and you pause. You assume something tickled, and keep going, but then I giggle again. Now, you know something’s up. I tell you to continue, and stifle another laugh. You beg me to tell you, and the crack in your voice persuades me to show you a little mercy. I pull you down to me from the tie. I tell you to dip your fingers into the oil and taste it. You’re hesitant, but you do as you’re told. The look that crosses your face is priceless; the serum is edible.

 

And now you have to lick all of it off of me.

 

This should be fun.

 

 

 

More erotica on my blog.


1/11/2014 12:53:58 AM
Unfortunately, my dearest and most beloved slave has to relocate for his family. I am in shambles. Steve, I wish you nothing but love and safety and I can only hope to find someone half as loyal or as kind as you. And I hope that whomever you find to take care of you treats you with the affection and the discipline you need and deserve. And if she doesn't, I'll knock her fucking teeth in.

1/8/2014 1:51:46 PM

I know you'll remember this. 

 

It's one of those days where there is too much work to do. I want to focus on one thing at a time, but I'll never get anything done.

 

And then my phone buzzes. It's you. You're lonely, needy.

 

Today we will both benefit from my sloth.

 

When you arrive, I am in girly, fleece pajamas. I don't look intimidating, but for my expression, and the crop in my hand. I tell you to strip, and when you hesitate, I tap impatiently, and twirl the crop in my fingers like a baton. Suddenly your clothes hit the floor, and you can't meet my gaze. I soak myself in the tension of your embarrassment. Once I've had my fill of your reddening cheeks, I motion for you to follow me.

 

When we reach the table, I tell you to mount it on all fours and close your eyes. Once you've obeyed, I place your collar around your neck, and tie on an apron. You can feel me writing on your skin in marker, but you don’t dare to look. You know better, and it's so far down your back, you couldn’t see it anyway. You try to make out the words, but it's almost like I'm writing symbols. You feel my presence behind you, and I watch you tense. You feel my breath on the back of your thighs. You realize I'm inspecting you, and it's turning you on. You are at my mercy.

 

You hear the click of a bottle cap, and then you feel the cool goo of lubricant as I smooth it around your asshole. It drips down, as I massage you. I have decided to reward you for behaving, and you welcome it. I slowly slip a finger inside of you, and thrust my hand gently. You moan, and I pinch the little spot between your ass and your sex, which you grace with a whimper. The whimper earns you a hard slap to the ass. I am met with silence, and once satisfied I add a second finger and continue.

 

For a while I just keep thrusting. I can tell you're aching for me, but I am focused on loosening your ass. I pull my fingers out of you and wipe them on your apron. You feel something manufactured and smooth on your thigh. It’s bumpy and you can't quite figure it out until the first bead enters you. You jump, but you accept it, like it's nothing. The next two beads coast in with ease. The next bead is a little larger, and I have to massage your sex with my other hand while I push it in. You clench, and I smack your ass again and tell you to relax. You have no idea how many more beads there are, or how large they will be, but you obey. I try to soothe your worry by rubbing the spot I smacked, and kissing it while I push on the next bead. I feel a little pop and you jump. You feel me add more lube, and push the last ball in. It's almost too big, and the chain is almost too long. I can see you clenching around it, trying to adjust. I tug gently on the little loop on the outside, but not enough to pull any of the beads out; just enough to torture you.

 

I tell you to open your eyes and motion for you to follow me again. I give you a list of what to clean, and sit at my desk, filling out my reviews and reports. You're finishing the kitchen as I finish my first stack of paperwork. You look at me, longingly and I tell you to come to me. I turn you around and give the chain the same playful tug, but this time it twist it. I cant see the muscles in your back tense as you feel the beads move inside you. I swat your ass with the crop, and tell you to get back to work.

 

You're mopping in the bathroom, when you catch your reflection in the mirror. You see the writing I placed on you earlier, and realize you couldnt figure it out, because I wrote it backwards. You turn your head to read my note, and smile in anticipation.

 

It reads: "Thank you for your help. You are the most caring and obedient slave I could hope for, and you make me proud. Finish the bathroom, and bedroom, and then bring me the toy box. You're in for quite a treat."


1/6/2014 9:10:56 PM
Lots of comments on my story! I'll have to post another tomorrow.

1/5/2014 10:21:39 AM

Not sure if you'll see this, but should it strike up a fever, call me.

 

It’s one of those days where I’m feeling inspired.

You pull out front, exactly on time. As I walk to the car, you scurry to my door and open for me. I greet you with a sweet little peck on the nose and make myself comfortable. You close the door and rush back to your side. The car is warm, and your radio is playing something bouncy and delightful. You grip the wheel and wait.

I direct you to the art store. Once inside, I pick a foot or so of black cloth and get copper wire from the jewelry making section. I send you to find me a wooden cylinder and any large bead you like. You come back with the cylinder and a smooth, wooden sphere the size of a date. We continue our journey and head to the hardware store for pliers, nuts, and twine.

On our last errand, we stop at the bank. After you open the door to escort me inside, I stop you, and turn you towards the willow tree that sits a few feet from the curb. I pull some long, fresh reeds and return to the car. You are obviously curious, but you don’t want to ruin the surprise.

Soon, we’re back at my place. You clean off the table, and I empty the bags. I tell you to get the craft glue, my sewing kit, and my drill. First, I drill a hole vertically into the cylinder. I tie your bead to three pieces of twine and three pieces of the copper wire. Your eyes follow my hands as I twist more twine around the strings above the bead, until it’s almost as thick as the hole I drilled, earlier. I pull all of my strings through the cylinder, and using the bead as a stopper. I pour in a little glue so that the twine I used to bind the strings meld to the inside of the wood, and create a handle.

I give you the handle and tell you to hold it steady. You nod, still watching my hands as I slide a nut down to the handle, to hold everything in place. I use a needle and thread to attach one of the reeds to a string of twine at the base. I do this to the other strings, as your eyes follow my fingers. Then I coat the twine with glue and twist the reed, the twine, and the copper together. The long strand locks together from tip to base in a smooth, sticky swoop. I do this to the other pieces, and then braid the three twists together. I take the handle from you and swing my craft through the air. It makes a lovely swishing noise as it cuts the atmosphere. You help me measure and cut the black material. We cut and sew until the craft evolves into a lovely switch.

While we let it dry and set, you wash the glue from my hands and clean up the mess. I tell you to undress, and watch you intently while you obey me. I cut a long, clean strip from the cloth and tell you to hold it, while I attach your cuffs to the eyelets on the ceiling. I watch you shiver when I tug on them to be sure they’re sturdy. I take the black I handed you and tie it around your eyes. I cross your wrists and cuff them, while I hum to myself. You hear my kick my heels off, and I pick up the switch. 

I drag the tip from your arm pit to your waist. You squirm and giggle, while it traces you. I ask you what you forgot to do for me, and begin swinging upon you gently while you think. You tell me you dont know, and I release a good crack to your bottom. You yelp and I return to tapping. The longer you think, the harder the lashes become; one to your thigh, one to your ass, one to your side, one to your calf. You throw out wild guesses, and receive a crack for every wrong answer. I begin to add pinches and slaps the longer you take.  By the time you remember, your ass and lower back are cherry colored and burning.

I unlock your cuffs and you fall to your knees.

This will be the last time you forget your collar.


1/5/2014 7:15:19 AM

I think it may be safe to post my work here again, since the fake removed her profile and I have a blog that has my stories posted, where I can prove the dates I wrote them.

 

It still pisses me off I had to do all of that though.

 

If you need inspiration, watch porn, dont copy and paste my erotica.


12/29/2013 11:24:16 AM

I'm going to take new photos for my blog today.

Cant decide if I want heels and a bodysuit or stockings and a skirt first.


12/29/2013 4:54:16 AM

I am a blunt individual. I will not apologize for telling you the truth.

 

If you aren't local and don't work on a similar schedule, this will not work out.

 

If you don't travel often, and aren't willing/able to stay connected over a long distance, this will not work out.

 

 

So forgive me for saying goodbye so early in knowing you, or dont. Because I've already opened the next email.


12/25/2013 5:24:46 PM
Thank you for the gifts. That was completely unexpected and terribly sweet.

12/23/2013 1:14:16 PM

Who's up for TV?

 

I'm in the mood to just snoop. 


12/22/2013 3:55:38 AM

So far I've gained a video of a naked cartwheel, a song about my butt, some paypal money, and the promise of a special sublady's panties for blog access.

 

This is going to be fun.

 

What are you going to do?


12/22/2013 2:41:20 AM

My blog is up and password protected.

 

What are you willing to do to get inside?


12/22/2013 2:02:39 AM

¿uʍop ǝpıs dn pǝuɹnʇ-dıןɟ ʇǝƃ pןɹoʍ ɹnoʎ pıp

 

¡op uɐɔ ı ʇɐɥʍ ʞooן


12/20/2013 9:13:25 PM
Who's going to rub my feet when I'm off my shift at 7?

12/18/2013 4:22:16 AM

I could sure use a hand today.

 

I have a lot of organizing to get done for this move.

 

And I still need to set up for Christmas!

 

Anyone available around 8am? You'll be out by 10am. 

 

Message me.


12/8/2013 6:28:02 PM

Excuse me for not jumping at the chance to meet you in a day.


I'd prefer to end up on the news for winning a Nobel Prize, not for being the victim of a brutal slash killing.


I am horny, not stupid.


Believe me there is a fucking difference.


12/7/2013 4:44:10 PM

I'll start writing erotica again when FILTHY FUCKING SKANKS STOP COPYING MY STORIES.

 

What kind of woman uses someone else's writing to get money from unsuspecting guys?

 

You're not the kind of animal the community needs.


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MistressDominaX
 
 Age: 99
 Berlin, Germany