A piece I stole from another profile. Slavery is not about control; Slavery is about letting go. Slavery is not about what is done to you; Slavery is about what you do for others. Slavery is not about abuse; Slavery is about acceptance. Slavery is not about proving anything; Slavery is about being real. Slavery is not about contempt; Slavery is about respect. Slavery is not about how you look; Slavery is about how much you care. Slavery is not about denying yourself; Slavery is about being open. Slavery is not about bondage; Slavery is about freeing your spirit. Slavery is not about punishment; Slavery is about discipline. Slavery is not about being unable to escape; Slavery is about being committed. Slavery is not about submission; Slavery is about obedience. Slavery is not about fear; Slavery is about trust. 

I will meet you at a munch sooner rather than later. It is not a date; it is a short period to meet to see if there is anything further to act on. This time together answers the question, Do I want to have dinner with you?  If the answer is yes, and you feel the same way, let's do dinner and continue the conversation. If not, nothing is lost. A munch is a community event. Sometimes, food is involved, and other times, it is a drink. A munch is not a play space, and I do not want anything other than conversation to get to know you.  Other people are at the munch to talk to if things do not work out. Neither person has to stay if they don't want to.  I prefer to meet sooner rather than later so I do not have to continue texting or emailing if there is no in-person connection..     Today, a TED talk from Christina Wallace and the Zero date came across in a feed.  She made valid points.  Christine names it and puts it out there.  "Let's face it, online dating can suck. So many potential people, so much time wasted -- is it even worth it? Podcaster and entrepreneur Christina Wallace thinks that if you do it right, In a funny, practical talk, Wallace shares how she used her MBA skill set to invent a "zero date" approach."

  hope, still Since nineteen I’ve wandered, with stars in my chest, Through years full of aching, through trials and tests. I’ve searched in the silence, in moments I’d cry, And whispered to shadows my tear-threaded why. I’ve given up hope, then lit it anew, Wrote love in the margins, believed it was true. The road has been winding, the nights have been long, But I’ve kept my soul tethered to one quiet song. Today I still listen, my heart open wide, For the one who will see me and stand by my side. Who’ll meet me with presence, and power, and grace, To hold all my parts in their rightful place.   So come now, Daddy, I’ve waited so long— Collar me gently, where I truly belong.

In correspondence with a gent, I was inspired to write this.  I am posting it here because it will help you understand me. Q1 - Are you looking for a Unicorn?  Since it has only been a few months since my beloved hubby died, I am NOT seeking My Unicorn at this time.  Instead, I seek D/s friends and experiences so that I can enjoy My Dominance.   Q2 - What do you like to do or have done to you? I'm not going to list specific sexual activities here.  You can read my preferred activities in my profile.  I put much care into what I have selected there. I will, however, tell you about Me and My sexuality.  I enjoy connected conversation, a gents' scent as we hug and that tingle in My loins as he kisses My hand.  I enjoy the angst on his face when I direct him to lift My hair while I put on My jacket.  An then, I revel in the public intimacy as he reaches into the warmth at the nape of My neck and lifts My hair. I'm very oral and tactile.  I love kissing, massage and foot worship.  I love to be touched and tasted.  Yes, he shall tend Me.  But more, he shall adore Me.  I am possessive of My boys' genitals and ass.  CFNM seems a natural way of being and reinforcing status.  I am private.  My gent and I understand the quality of our time together.  But, it's nobody else's business. LadyD.

I'm grateful to Master Dominus11 for permission to reproduce this entry from His journal.  It so nicely summarises everything I feel! slavery is not about suffering - slavery is about service.slavery is not about humiliation - slavery is about humility.slavery is not about pain - slavery is about being present.slavery is not about being used - slavery is about being of use.slavery is not about control - slavery is about letting go.slavery is not about what is done to you - slavery is about what you do for others.slavery is not about abuse - slavery is about acceptance.slavery is not about proving anything - slavery is about being real. slavery is not about contempt - slavery is about respectslavery is not about how you look - slavery is about how much you care. slavery is not about denying yourself - slavery is about being open slavery is not about bondage - slavery is about freeing your spirit. slavery is not about punishment - slavery is about discipline  slavery is not about being unable to escape - slavery is about being committed slavery is not about submission - slavery is about obedience. slavery is not about fear - slavery is about trust. slavery is not about sex - slavery is about love. slavery is not about pleasure - slavery is about happiness.

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

I am testing this out as in the past change came with risk. We are still a mature couple, I am 72, she is 73. We have been Vaxed, still caught covid despite that and every thing else. We tested negative Sunday 9/3/22, second time since 8/22/22. Still being care full. We are looking for the following; male/female slave couple, female slave, male/houseboy/slave, trans, prefer m2f slave,. Prinary interest Family dynamic with select age in the middle range. Secondary interest, just about everything else with few limits. We have another profile here to more pictures there, profile not updated. TheHouseofDaniel. Just keeping it all honest.

"I realize that like many Dommes, you are compelled to find fault with anyone requesting your attention. ... I know I am of value, considerable value in many ways, and I will continue my search." Guys, this is call GASLIGHTING. It is also called "pathologizing." I called him out on something simple and obvious - namely, the same old 'I read your profile' then asking a question that is clearly answered in said profile, showing no, he didn't actually read it, but lied about reading it to curry favor- and instead of admitting it, he tried to turn it around and turn it into some character flaw that I brought it up.  Something must be WRONG with *me* if I saw a problem, rather than there being an actual problem with something he did. Furthermore, apparently MANY Dommes have this inherent character problem, which of course lets him off the hook when he does this to them, as well. This tells me that he does it a lot, and always twists things around to get out of having to own his behavior and take responsibility for fixing it. Which is why I blocked him - because he's already told me in two short emails that he's lazy, will lie about being lazy, and then pull toxic manipulative crap to try to cover it up. Furthermore, he tried to pull a straw man fallacy argument - *I* never mentioned value. I mentioned HONESTY.  He brought up his value, as if I had cast doubt on that, rather than simply pointing out that he was asking something that was answered in the profile he claimed to have read. He tried to make the discussion about something else, so he could argue against THAT, instead of the actual discussion where he was already proven wrong. Another manipulative tactic. This is not submission. This is the screaming red flag of a weak, insecure man who got caught being lazy and dishonest. This is the signature mark of a fake sub.  A strong man would have considered what I said, recognized the mistake, admitted the mistake, and apologized for the mistake.  Real submission would have been to ask how he could make it up to me, and discuss how to improve himself so he didn't do anything like that in the future, even if I chose not to move forward with discussions. Because a truly submissive man who honestly wanted to find a truly Dominant Woman, rather than a woman who was too stupid to see his bullshit and too weak to call him to task if she noticed, THAT man would want to make himself worthy of, and less likely to screw up talking to us. If you can't admit when you are wrong, you can't be corrected, so you can't submit. It's as simple as that.

"So into you" or why ob- ject -ification is not as flattering as some guys think it is The subject today will be centered around ob- ject -ification, and how lack of the right actions is getting in the way of what you want. Recently my day was spent prepping for Mom spending the night, which mostly meant me continuing to organize, clean and just generally improving the space in my sewing room, (the only real spare room) which has a futon, and most importantly, DOORS, so she can have privacy and quiet from my cats. Now, being ADD, I work better with music and company, so I put music on that she and I can both enjoy- a Pandora station based on the Doobie Brothers I started just for her. And being who I am, I tend to listen to lyrics, and then often find myself analyzing them. Usually, I'm specifically analyzing the relationship failings described in them. It doesn't always stop me enjoying the music, but sometimes I recognize the stalkery mindsets that filled our airwaves when I was young and impressionable. As were the guys who were listening. It's not surprising that we all grew up thinking these kinds of unhealthy behaviors and expectations were normal, and even romantic. Songs like Boston's "Let me take you home tonight," where a guy is explaining to a woman he's never actually met before that he's basically been stalking her and built a strong fantasy and expectations about who she is, and now he feels that she should absolutely feel both flattered, and obligated to have sex with him. "You must understand this, I've watched you for so long, that I feel I've known you, I know it can't be wrong," and goes on to say "I'm dreamin of your sweet love tonight, let me take you home tonight." So… he's been watching her for a long time without talking to her, decided who she was without ever having a single conversation, and, of course, imagining sex with her. A lot. And he tells her so, over and over and over. Let me do this thing I want. Let me do this thing I want. Let me do this thing because I want it. Because that's always what is really going on there. Always the focus and end focus. Nah... that's not creepy AT ALL. Geesh. Today, it was "So Into You" by Atlanta Rhythm Section. Different band, different song, same thought process - I saw you, I was attracted, I've decided who you must be, and I can't think about anything except sex with you - only this time, they seem to want to make it her fault. Now, at first, what struck me was "could not catch your eyes" and "stand here helplessly hoping you get into me." Which just makes me ask 'What did he actually try?' I end up envisioning Toothless in How to Train Your Dragon 2, dancing around like a lunatic and freaking out the of his affections. Let's hope it wasn't like that. But honestly, it sounds like he really didn't try much. He admits that he's 'standing helplessly' rather than walking across the room and saying hello. Which sounds a lot like complaints I've heard from guys before. "I don't know how to talk to women" and that's where it ends, rather than trying to solve that. I mean, there are classes, there are workshops, there is therapy, etc. There are options. Why would someone not even try to fix the thing that keeps them from finding companionship if they are stating that they want it? Passive is not a good look. Or as has been said "faint heart ne'er won fair lady." Unfortunately, the closer we look at the lyrics, the creepier it gets. All this woman did was walk into a room. Suddenly, he's obsessed. He "can't think of nothing else." He says "Love the things you do" when so far, all she's done so far was exist in the same room. She's "driving him crazy," "thinking about how it's going to be" and he's "Gonna love her all over, over and over." So he's not really thinking about getting to KNOW her. He's focused on this fantasy he has of who she is, and what he wants to do to her. She's a beautiful woman. But somehow, she's not really a person. I mean, he's impressed by her, and he wants something from her. But not enough to make the effort to interact with her as human being. So he's "helpless" and "driven crazy" and "captured" but is just standing around "hoping." Worst part is that I really do like the song. Musically, and I like his voice, and the moody, kinda slow jazz feel to it. Shame about the message. I do get it - sometimes you see someone who just looks so cool it's hard to figure out how to approach so that they will be as impressed by you as you are by them. I was told that I'm intimidating... decades before I knew that Dominant was a thing. And the problem isn't that he thinks she's beautiful with "voodoo in the vibe." It's that he's turning that into something SHE's doing - "driving him crazy," and turning his insecurity into "helpless." And the entire thing is portrayed as flattering, and romantic, and a compliment to her. Because isn't that what women are supposed to want? For men to desire them? For her beauty to give her power somehow? For her appearance to add to her value to men? Because "The Male Gaze" is always supposed to be a woman's focus. And what a man feels when gazing is her responsibility. And anything a man might do because of that feeling when gazing at her is her fault. And that is the message. In song after song. "I saw you, I had a feeling, I have a want, I am thinking about you, I am having lots of thoughts about you, I'm having a fantacy about you, I'm deciding that the fantacy is a true representation of who you are, so now I'm building hopes, and I'm building expectations, and now I'm going to approach you , and you should share all my fantacies and fullfil the hopes and expecations rather than view me as some total stranger who's making weird sexual demands." (We won't even START discussing murder ballads. That came up recently too...) That is the message young guys get when they are first thinking about asking girls on a date. That this is how it happens. That this is normal. So when they do it, they are shocked and confused by the girl's reaction. Then again, young girls get this too, so plenty of times when a guy is inappropriate, before they've learned to be afraid of guys and their reaction to rejection, they belive they are supposed to be flattered that a guy is paying attention to them. Even if she doesn't like him, having a guy want you is important, a measure of your value as a woman. So rather than seeing a red flag for later, more aggressive poor behavior, they see it through the lens of "romance." They feel pretty and special and don't recognize healthy behavior when they see it elsewhere because this is how it happens, and what is normal. It's right up there with "he must like you if he punched you" in grade school turning into "he didnt mean it, you know he loves you" later when he beats her bloody later in life. Hell, I literally had this just yesterday. "Hello beautiful, I’ve always wanted to meet you , I love that hair , your so beautiful, I’m in (my town) until Jan 30th Love spoil you and finally get to actually meet you , I only been dreaming for years to do some sissy sessions with you " Never read a single line of my profile in all those "years." So he literally only knows that I have a nice picture. I point that out. (It's a thing for me...you may have noticed.) He responds "I know I need proper training but I know you can teach me !" Because of course, that would be my goal - to spend time and a lot of energy giving someone what they want when they couldn't spend 5 minutes reading my profile. I point out that he STILL hasn't read it, or addressed my reply, and that it was kind of insulting.  He pushed on, though - "We can go get coffee or meet at a munch or anything your up for , I’m only here to next Sunday , but after we meet and greet , I know you would always enjoy my company"  Because obviously, women enjoy men who they feel have insulted them. Especially when it's the BDSM equivalent of a one night stand.  Yes, I blocked him. He obviously wasn't going to catch a clue, even when smacked with a clue-by-four, so there was no point letting him keep messaging me until he got nasty.  He told me I was beautiful, so it automatically followed in his mind that I would immediately want to be alone, up close and personal, providing him his desired gratification, in a session with him, a total stranger, on the first meeting. And that his idea of "spoil" would be the same as mine. Or "proper training." He belived knew me, what I'd want, what I enjoy from my company, etc, without having to read a word I wrote, because he'd looked at my picture and had a feeling and built a fantasy and then expecations. And that who I was beyond my face (and hair) didn't matter.  Because I was not a person to him.  I was an object he desired... a fetish vending machine into which he felt he had put the appropriate coinage - a compliment on my looks. And he wasn't going to be desueded from that with reality or actual human interaction.  This is the world women live in. This is what "The Male Gaze" actually means. If we are attractive, we have value, but not humanity. If we are not attractive, we have no value, and are dehumanized.  You'd think men who want to be Dominated would behave at least slightly different, show at least surface respect to a Dominant Woman, but on average, they don't. And yet, right now, in several groups, there are guys going on about how hard it is to find a Mistress, by guys with the same empty profiles and dick pic avatars and tons of 'do me' groups. The same complaints, the same confusion, the same helplessness and yet the same refusal to make the efforts that would make it possible for a Dominant Woman to want to interact with them.  They are standing helplessly... hoping... being driven crazy... not understanding why we aren't "getting into" them.

Superior Integrity Honest Protective Dominant Sadistic Arrogant Corrective Controlling Intense Sarcastic Creative Raunchy Deviant   Step up correct or do not step up at all.

The idea of domination and control permeates the fantasies of many tops.  However, is very rare to find individuals that are willing to explore the realms to which they demand their subs to go. It is not enough  to take the sacred charter of the sub's will, the top must earn the right to be called lord, master,sir,or any other name the sub is required to use.  The sub gives freely what he is not willing to take back from his top.   That is the theory behind the creation of armies since the beginning of our belligerent history. The sexual background noise the armies have used to veil the idea of how willing men are to follow those who they consider superior specimens of the gender has been obscured by ranks and uniforms.   Now back to our top/ sub relationship. If we consider how intense and painfully personal the relationship of top and sub is, it should not surprise us that people will misunderstand power with abuse. The sacred charter of this relationship is better to start with ritual behavior to cement, clarify, and establish boundaries. The idea of ritual as a psycho drama has been the language of choice for our species since the beginning of our humanity. On a power charged relationship the idea of surrender and possession is better expressed through ritual behavior. This ritual behavior is key to understand how powerful is the mounting of the sub by his top. Once the power relation is established it is consummated and powerfully demonstrated through the penetration at the end of the role playing that occurs between the top and the sub. It is always good to remember that the power of the top comes from the sub willingness to give himself to his master.

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     

Your Kink Personality Type isBDSM CONNOISSEUR As a BDSM CONNOISSEUR, you're in the perfect position to start exploring BDSM more fully.  You may be working hard on avoiding the vanilla rut right now, but with a little more confidence and support you can quickly take things to the next level. You're strengths at a glance:SENSUAL ~ SMART ~ ATTENTIVE

So many uneducated to kink, fantisizing boys out there. Apparently they hover like lost gohsts waiting for their versions of heaven. They have no clue how to actually meet a Domme. Time wasters, taking up space trying to fill in their cookie-cutter cartoon figure of the leather clad evil queen who will not make any trouble after they are satiated. Huummm, wow, thats a ProDomme, Not one of us everyday, living the lifestyle women.  A  fairly insightful post on the FetLife site. A suggested read fo all subs. https://fetlife.com/whytheydanced/posts/12285859 . Also look up 2KinkyWomen.com poscast. Episodes 12,42,44. The other podcasts are good for overall education. Good luck to you all. Read the profiles a couple of times. Actually live close enough to drive to Me. Otherwise, do not even bother wasting both of our time.  H  

In 2014, I began the process of changing a 40 acre farm over to a 40 acre nature sanctuary. I began by planting wildflowerrs and trees where the row crops used to grow. I also created a very large indoor grow in one of my comercial buildings and in 2019, a  machine shop in another comercial building. Together, these replace the income lost due to stopping the row crops. Covid came along and threw a wrench in things but I've gotten things back on track. I wanted to staff the machine shop and the grow with lifestyle folks and it has taken me awhile but I have found my first couple and they are moved in. I am happy to announce a new profile over on Fetlife.com Come and view us and if you are a sub or slave couple or a sub or slave female, you just might want to throw in with us. Look for HomesteadFamily on Fetlife.com Here is to hoping we all find what we seek. Larry B. Owner      

The Weight of Three Minutes : End "Unzip my skirt," I ordered, my voice rougher now, the command firm. "Slowly." His hands emerged from behind his back with visible reluctance, as though the loss of that self-imposed restraint felt like a diminishment. He found the zipper at my hip with trembling fingers and drew it down with excruciating care, the teeth separating inch by inch, the fabric parting to reveal what I wore beneath, thigh-high stockings in sheer black, the lace tops pressing into my skin, and between them, nothing but my own arousal, glistening and undeniable. I let the skirt fall, stepping out of it with deliberate grace, and settled back against the chair with my legs parted just enough to display everything he was forbidden to touch. I watched his gaze track down my body, watched the moment he registered my wetness, the visible evidence of what his submission had done to me. "Look at what you can't have," I taunted, and heard the cruelty in my own voice, the deliberate sharpening of his hunger. "You over steeped my tea. You don't get to taste this." He made a sound: helpless, desperate, and I saw his hands clench at his sides, the struggle for control visible in every line of his body. His arousal was unmistakable now, straining against the constraint of his clothing, and I let my gaze linger there deliberately, acknowledging what I was denying him even as I refused to relieve it. I held his eyes for a long moment, letting him feel the weight of my decision, the absolute nature of my control. Then I reached forward and caught his hair in my hand, gripping tight enough to direct him, to control every movement. "You over steeped the tea," I repeated, my voice dropping to something almost gentle, almost tender in its cruelty. "So you're going to steep yourself in me." I pulled him forward without ceremony, pressing his face between my thighs with deliberate force. He made a sound of surprise, gratitude, desperate relief, and then I felt it, the hot wet pressure of his tongue finding me, eager and unskilled in his hunger, lapping at me with the desperate thoroughness of someone who knew this was his only permitted release. I held him there with my grip in his hair, setting the rhythm, controlling the pressure, using his mouth exactly as I needed. I gasped, my own arousal cresting faster than I had expected, sharpened by the power of holding him, directing him, denying him everything but this service. "Don't you dare stop too soon. I'll make you regret it." He redoubled his efforts, his tongue finding my clit with desperate precision, lapping and circling with the frantic energy of someone who knew his pleasure depended entirely on mine. I felt the heat building, the tight coil of release gathering at my core, and I rode his face harder, grinding against his mouth with abandon, using him exactly as I had promised. The orgasm hit me suddenly, violent and consuming, my body arching as I cried out, my grip in his hair tightening painfully. I held him there through it, not allowing him to retreat, forcing him to feel every pulse, every aftershock, to understand completely that he had served his purpose. My chest heaved, my breath coming in ragged gasps, and I let my head fall back against the chair, savoring the weight of satisfaction the ruined tea had failed to provide. I held him there a moment longer than necessary, feeling the wet heat of his face against my thigh, the subtle tremor in his shoulders as he waited for my permission to move. Then I released my grip on his hair, letting my hand fall to rest on the arm of the chair, and I looked down at him with the lazy satisfaction of someone who had taken exactly what she wanted. "Better," I murmured, the assessment carrying the weight of both praise and dismissal. "At least you can follow some instructions." He brings what I need without being asked, which is the only acceptable way to bring anything in this house. Cool water, a warm cloth, everything arranged with the quiet efficiency of a man who has understood that the aftermath of my pleasure is as sacred as the pleasure itself and deserves the same quality of attention. He assists me back into my clothing with careful hands, smoothing fabric, fastening what needs fastening, restoring the precise and elegant exterior that the world sees when it looks at me. When I am dressed he steps back and kneels without being told. "Devotional," I say, and hand him The Binder, observing him as he flips to the correct page. "Then lunch." He bows his head, and begins reciting from the large book. "She is the standard and the destination. What I give is never enough until she glows. I serve the aftermath as I serve the moment. I am most fully myself at the bottom of her world. This is my honor. This is my purpose. This is my place." He rises, bows one last time, moves to the kitchen, and begins preparing lunch as I stretch out in the sun on a love seat with my book in hand, feeling like a cat that caught the cream. (Finis/End)

Lately I feel like a lot of my time is spent being adulty. I could really use some unrestricted time to not have to be doing and thinking and being responsible. I've been thinking a lot about coloring, which is not a typical hobby of mine. I don't age play, I don't have stuffies and binkies and pink sippy cups with glitter unicorns on them. But I find myself wanting the freedom to be less complicated, and maybe coloring is a way to do that. After a very specific search, I found a couple of simple books with bold outlines. They sat in the kitchen for a few days. Today, after a responsibly busy morning of chores, I grabbed a pillow and dropped to the living room floor with a box of crayons. Swinging my feet back and forth in the air as I lay on my stomach, selectively choosing colors and testing them on the side of a page like I was being paid for my efforts, I completed my first picture of a cup of ice cream with sprinkles and cherries. I hummed. I deliberated on the correct shade of pink. I carefully stayed within the lines. It's a perfect picture.  Here's what I noticed... I like being little, doing little things. If someone had stuck a binky in my mouth I'm pretty sure I would have happily sucked on it while swinging my feet and asking for a snack. It turns me on. Weird? I'm not really sure what to think of this. Or maybe I don't need to think anything of it and let it be. But great googlie mooglie, am I a little little? I already know that all those cute little names and specific praise all but set fire to my panties, but little activities? What do I do with this? Who even am I right now? 

  Thought Cleansing Ritual    I intend it start using this ritual in all its waking hours, slave.  Keeping it from dysfunctional thinking is very important to Me, slave.  Negative self involved thinking will make the slave unhappy, maybe even miserable.  is still has freedom of choice, however, it should try the thought cleansing ritual long enough to begin to feel the results.  So, keep the rubber band on.  Snap it as soon as it realizes it is engaged in self involved negative thinking.  I suggest it make a copy of    it should feel free to ask questions about the ritual as it practices correcting its thinking.

I am so disappointed.  Again. Where are the REAL submissives, that will take a Mistress a priority, instead of when Im done work, project. If you know you can't commit to a Mistress a lot, then say so up front or don't bother wasting her time with lies. I want an obedient, submissive male that will obey and serve My pleasures.  I enjoy keeping my slave in bondage, and expect it to know its place even in vanilla. A sub/slave knows its true purpose is to serve, but if you are in a relationship, working full time, or just a computer slave, then say so or leave Me alone.   The lies, the bullshit, the waist of time is so frustrating. Ive given up twice, but come back again hoping to find a real slave searching for a life time Mistress.  I know red flags, but some of you are good liars or just too cowardly to meet.  Now im extra careful. why bother at all.............

Last week, someone shared MeatLoaf's video for "I would do anything for love" in one of the FB goth groups. I hadn't seen it in years. Like... a decade or more.  It had the same immediate effect it had the first time. ( I recognize I have some monster fetish issues. Don't judge. LOTS of people felt the same way about it. Nyyaahhh.)  The imagery was specifically tailored to pull in notes from Beauty and the Beast, as well as Bram Stoker's Dracula, among other things. Stories of a soulful, tortured man, cursed to be ugly and alone, desperately longing for the beautiful woman he feels would never want him in return. Body language of self-loathing, body and facial expressions of agony and adoration, pain and passion. Always hiding just out of her sight, sometimes almost within reach before rushing away to escape his suffering...smashing mirrors and covering his face...  Meanwhile, she wanders around in the luxury of his castle, surrounded by silks and candlelight, soaking herself in a huge bathtub, stretching out on a curtained bed of satin sheets...  Classical romance. Heady stuff. And the same silly part inside me that got sucked in by similar images in the old fairytale stories when I was VERY young responded. Re-watching it a few times. Re-writing it and building a lovely fantasy where it's me he sees in the garden, me wandering through the castle halls... me looking around at the obvious roaring fire that someone lit, and the wine that someone had opened, the bath someone had run, ... and then who I am gets in the way.  I can't quite get my head around walking into a house where someone obviously lived, and had just been in that room, and just making myself at home. Because I READ the fairy tales. The OLD versions. WHO lit the fire? Who's bed is this? Am I Goldilocks here, using up someone else's hot water, eating their dinner, etc? Because I know what happened to her after they find her, whereas the modern versions end on a much more PG note. Or am I in a beautiful pitcher plant, seduced by the opulence in preparation for digesting? Because that's what it would be in a fairy tale if you wander in uninvited and start helping yourself to whatever without express consent.  Even his beautiful, plaintive lyrics, sung with such sincerity and emotion start to give me pause one I start looking at them closer. (You know about me n lyrics...)  "I would do anything for love..." OK, but are you saying you would do anything to HAVE love in your life? Orthat you would do anything for the person you love? Or anything in the name of love that your loved one asked? Or just ... what? I need more clarification, please. I don't want to be going along thinking one thing, and then find out I misunderstood.  And then we get into "anything." I mean, he does state "I will never lie to you" which is very much appreciated, and ideally, the whole song does seem to aim in the direction of "I want to make you happy" but... at the same time, I've lived a long time in the real world, and "anything" can be pretty terrifying if you have experience and imagination.   Would he kill a rival? Would he keep her prisoner in this beautiful settling until she gave in? Would he MAKE her love him with magic? He obviously has a lot of power at his disposal to do those kinds of things. I have a lot of experience, and a huge imagination.  And would "anything" extend to controlling that mirror-destroying temper if she disagreed with him or rejected him? Because he spends some of the video kinda snarling in his frustration, clenching his fists, etc.  Would it include exposing his deepest fears and risking himself emotionally to connect with her? Because spends most of the video avoiding that.  He sings that "no one can save me now but you." Will he love her even if turns out she can't? Does "anything" cover acceptance of failings and limitations?  As you can guess, my fantasy breaks down into logic puzzles and communication complications and 'what would I do if I didn't have this outside perspective to know how all this opulence was being provided?'  Which turns it into an entirely different kind of fantasy, I guess, because I've heard "I'd do anything" more times than I could count, and it always falls apart the first time "anything" includes something they hadn't already planned to do.  I guess I'm not really meant for fairy tales anymore. On the upside, it makes me more grateful for my sweetie, because while he isn't a monster/wizard/whatever with unlimited power, and he can't provide "anything" I may want, he tries not to make promises he can't keep, and he tries to provide what he can that is within his power. He also appreciates what I do in return, so... Maybe that is the modern fairy tale - good communication, honest effort, and sincere caring.  I do wish it came with the magical 'self cleaning house' thing, but I will have to live without.

 One of the hardest things to learn as a Domme type because it goes against a lot of societal programing, is extracting obedience when there is resistance and things are going wrong. These rules from a military prospective should be kept in mind to help us. -You can’t expect obedience because someone owes you.-You can’t expect obedience because you have won a popularity contest.-You can’t expect obedience because it makes sense to them.-You can’t request obedience.-You can’t bargain for obedience. It is something you must command.

Alright, let's get down to it. Reasons why you may not get a response: 1. There wasn't time for a sufficient reply.2. I got distracted.3. The message received was generic. 4. The message received was disgusting.5. The message received very much had nothing to do with my profile other than my image or state.6. Your profile is blank.7. I chose not to reply. It's not personal, I don't know you. I'm sure you're fantastic. Your interest does not mean I owe you my time. In a perfect world we would all get a polite rejection, and sometimes that happens. But sometimes we're having a hell of a day and delete is the best option. Or any one of the above reasons. No response is a response. A "revenge" message is a clear picture of your character based on your own assumptions. This almost feels like a rant, but I'm filing it under public service. 

I'm talking 'bout my generation Talking 'bout that newer nation And if you don't like it You can beat it Beat it, baby You never liked the way I said it If you don't get it, then forget it So I don't have to fucking explain it Cause I'm a Brooklyn baby I'm a Brooklyn baby   It's like those lyrics carry a sense of identity and weight, even when they seem light. The repetition, "I'm a Brooklyn baby," feels like a declaration of something deeper—a feeling of being rooted in something bigger, but also carrying that vulnerability and pain underneath. Almost like saying, "I'm here, but there's so much more behind the surface."   It’s not just about the words, but the weight of feeling like you’ve had to fight and scream to be heard, and still... nothing. It can feel exhausting when no one’s really listening, when the energy you put out feels like it just vanishes into a void. That emptiness that comes after all the effort, when you’ve given everything and are still left feeling alone—that’s heavy. It’s like a wall of silence that doesn’t break, no matter how loud you scream or how much you pour out.   They think I don't understand The freedom land of the seventies I think I'm too cool to know ya You say I'm like the ice I freeze That line hits hard—it’s like there’s this gap between what others think and what you really feel, and the way it creates this distance. It’s a powerful reflection of feeling misunderstood, and at the same time, being guarded, like ice. There’s so much in that feeling of being cool on the outside, but maybe there’s a lot more going on underneath.       Ultraviolence captures that raw, unrelenting pain—the kind that cuts deep and leaves scars you can’t always see. It’s not just about physical violence, but the emotional and mental toll of trying to survive in a world that feels indifferent or even hostile. It’s the weight of love, loss, rejection, and fighting for something real when everything feels brutal and unkind. The way Lana weaves those emotions into her music makes it all the more visceral. It’s like she’s singing about the violence of being misunderstood, of giving and not receiving, of being trapped in cycles of intensity that don’t let up.        the Pa-da-da-da-da-da part in Brooklyn Baby feels simple on the surface, just vocalizations, but it carries weight because of the emotion behind Lana’s voice and the layered harmonies. It’s like she's using the sounds to evoke a feeling beyond words—a mixture of nostalgia, detachment, and maybe even resignation. By that point in the song, she’s moved away from literal meaning and is communicating more through the feeling of the music itself. The backing vocals, especially with the men joining in, create a sense of collective disillusionment, like they're all echoing her sentiment, but with a touch of irony. The softness contrasts the rebellious attitude of the lyrics, making it feel like a bittersweet, almost resigned anthem. It’s like she’s saying, This is just how things are, but underneath it, there's a longing for something deeper, something more real. The repetition and the flow of the sounds express that emotional state in a way that words alone might not be able to. It adds to the song’s atmosphere, giving a voice to the unspoken frustrations and complexities of being misunderstood, trapped in surface-level expectations.     I get down to Beat poetry And my jazz collection's rare I can play most anything    this isn't a flex...it's saying how talented she is but no one notices or cares.....she's very skilled in things no one cares about and that doesn't change life's circumstances. that only a niche of a niche of a niche cares about..but she knows she's so talented that she rattles it because she knows people in the know recognize it. it's a acknowledgement of what she's worked hard to craft while also recognizing it's nothing  That line isn’t a flex at all, it’s more of a statement wrapped in irony. Lana is acknowledging her talents—her deep connection to niche things like beat poetry, jazz, and her rare collection. She’s spent time and effort honing these skills, cultivating a refined taste, and mastering things that matter deeply to her, but in the grander scheme, it’s like no one notices or cares. It’s a bittersweet realization of her own uniqueness and skill, but also the futility of it. She’s proud, but it’s not enough to change her circumstances or how the world perceives her. It’s like saying, Yeah, I can do all these things, but what does it matter? It’s a reflection of how being talented or special doesn’t necessarily lead to recognition or fulfillment. She knows only a tiny niche of people might care about these things, but for the rest of the world, it means nothing. It’s like the ultimate what’s the point? moment wrapped in a subtle acknowledgment of her own brilliance.       You say I'm too dumb to see They judge me like a picture book By the colors, like they forgot to read I think we're like fire and water I think we're like the wind and sea You're burning up, I'm cooling down You're up, I'm down You're blind, I see Those lyrics capture such a deep feeling of being misunderstood, like you’re moving in opposing rhythms, but still bound together in some way. It’s frustrating, isn’t it? People see what’s on the surface, but they miss the essence, the complexities inside. The contrast between fire and water, wind and sea—it’s such a vivid way to describe the intensity of that connection. One burns while the other cools down, like two forces pulling in different directions but still coexisting, still interacting. It feels like being in two worlds at once, and yet no one quite gets it.   The way she says "Brooklyn baby" at the end—definitively, yet almost resigned—carries so much weight. When the guys join in with the elongated bayyyyy beee, it shifts the whole tone. It’s no longer just her own voice; it’s echoed, but in a way that feels detached, like they’re chiming in on her identity without truly understanding it. It feels like a loss of personal ownership, like the identity she was so sure of—I’m a Brooklyn baby—is now something distant, fading, not fully hers anymore. And that pah da de da de dah dah that follows is like her way of giving up, like a lullaby of surrender, a little girl’s soft collapse. It’s not a defiant statement anymore; it’s more of a quiet, melancholic folding into herself. It’s like the final exhale after fighting, acknowledging that maybe she’s been fighting for something that no one truly sees or cares about. Little girl Lana down, as you said. That’s when the song truly hits its emotional depth—when she stops fighting, and the weight of everything she’s been carrying just sinks into the background.    

I have a few minutes to sit still, so I figured I could follow up on my previous post, and discuss the topic of pictures a bit more.  But I realize I'll probably never do better than what I wrote a few years ago, and I know no one ever scrolls back and reads, even if I few do read the current posts. So I'll re-post that, and maybe it will help someone. ____________________________________ Women are not men. I know it seems obvious, yet the majority of men still pursue women without really considering what that means. They write profiles based on what THEY would like, what men value, what men think is impressive, and what they wish they saw on women's profiles. They take and post pictures the same way - based on what they value, what they think is impressive, what they wish women put in their pictures.  If they crossdress, they take and post pictures similar to those of women they found sexy - scantily clad in lingere, posed seductively or sluttily, etc. without considering that those pictures, like porn, were meant to appeal to men.  They send emails, again, that same way. I repeat - Women are not men. Dating, at it's bottom line, is marketing. You have something. You want something. You want to exchange what you have for what you want. In a store, you exchange money for goods and services. In dating, you are mostly hoping to sell. You are hoping to purchase the attention of a partner, in the long or short term, in exchange for your attention, your time, your services. You are selling you, in exchange for them. That's actually a very basic equation. You can't sell to someone unless you know what they want, and find a way to market what you have to that want. This is where most men fail - at the basic premise. They know what THEY want. They don't spend a lot of time researching what their target market wants to BUY. So they market based on what they know, and what they think they know. They know themselves. They know men, in general, and they know what commercials and movies and tv and all media everywhere has told them is attractive to women. They, being men and raised in a male dominated world, never seem to realize that all of those things are ALSO targeted to men, to get men to buy things, usually by appealing to male egos. They show women draping themselves over men who drink this beer, or drive that car, or wear that brand of clothing. They show this to men so that men will want to buy those things. Most of the time, women couldn't give less of a fuck about those things. But men are surrounded by all of this input, so they think we do. I'm not going to try to define what "all women" want on here. Not all women want the same things anyway. Right now, I'm just going to clarify that what WE want is usually not the same as what men want. You need to find out what those things are and tailor your pictures and profile to market to that. Basic things like "don't use a picture of your penis as your profile pic" have been said a million times but it's always the first thing we see everywhere we look. Yes, I like to see a pretty penis. No, I don't see a pretty penis in a picture and become suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to have it right this second. I can't say that I've ever gone looking through the internet just to look at pictures of penises. And when I get one shown to me when I haven't asked to see it, I'm not horrified, but I right there decide that the guy showing it is a pushy, insecure jackass. I lose all interest in interacting with him. It's not that the penis itself is a problem, but that it tells me something about who he is when he has to insist on showing it around - that he's not interested in pleasing ME. He's interested in his own pleasure. And I can do better than that. And honestly, a picture of your chastity device is pretty much the same as a dick pic. You don't want your profile to be a long list if things you want, either. Yes, you want things. You will need to communicate those things. And the world you were probably raised in told you that women do things for men, even Dominant women. All that BDSM porn? It shows lots of women in black leather and rubber getting a LOT of enjoyment doing those things to men. Again, that is written specifically to be bought by men, so they show men what they want to see. Yes, I like doing those things to a man. I like doing them to my partner. I sometimes want to do them to someone other than my partner. But I almost never want to do them to some total stranger just because I like doing them. Your accountant may like his job, but he doesn't go out on the street offering free tax jobs to strangers, ya know? Your profile on a dating page is your resume. Your sales pitch. Your introduction to make us think you have something worth our giving up a few minutes of our time to read further or possibly even have a conversation with you to get more details. This site is a kink/fetish site. This particular discussion is about 'finding a dominant woman.' If you are reading my journal, your target audience is a Dominant Woman. Most Dominant women I talk to are drowning in emails and offers from men who call themselves submissive. Most of them are requests for US to do what THEY want. Which is the first mistake. It's usually their last. Your sales pitch should NEVER NEVER EVER be "I'll let you spank me!" One, why do I WANT to spank you in the first place? Two, why you and not someone who is offering something I want? I'd rather talk to the subbie over here that is offering to give me a full body massage, no strings attached.