I am pathetic.  After everything that happened I swore off this life. I deleted Fet, removed all my social media, removed all my chats EXCEPT FOR CS only because I was afraid in the next few years if I returned to this life it would take Forever to make a new CS account. Which I guess is good as I have 1 avenue I can share these thoughts. In summary, I'm pathetic. I didn't even last 3 weeks before I was deeply depressed.  Which doesn't matter as I don't have a Master anyways.  By the way Master Tim wherever you are now, dead or alive, you owe me. You owe me big time. I was newly married, a house wife, in my 20's and I went online (back then) on Yahoo chat. I had just found a book on Gor the first book in the series and I had questions and I didn't know what to do with these newly discovered feelings. I just wanted to know what this meant. I'm a black female who was married to a black man and I had shown him what I saw and wanted to engage it. My husband said what black woman would ever want that life. I was mortified. Is there something wrong with me? I just wanted to know. Then I found Master Tim. Master Tim you didn't have to show me the lifestyle. For 5 years.  You wanted to meet outside of chat day 1 of talking. I agreed and thought I'd was being smart by saying a public place .. Like the library. You pulled up an older white man with leather on and a motorcycle. You looked like you came from the wrong side of the tracks. I was young (in my 20's but truancy officers still stopped me), newly married, black female who was probably too naive for my own good. I watched you sit on your motorcycle. I knew it was you. You didn't look like you belonged here.. it was thrilling to watch you knowing you were just like in the books. You finally got off your bike and went inside. I wanted to see more, observe more. I went inside. I didn't see you and went deeper looking through the book aisles. You cornered me and said my chat handle. I nodded and you said you knew it was me something about being able to tell a submissive girl.  Side note: I have heard that over the years. A man would look at me and be like your submissive or a slave and I would be like how do you know. This always happened in a vanilla setting where I was not behaving in a submissive way to me but I was always called out.  I digress. You reached slowly to touch my breast and I didn't fight you or anything. I didn't know what to expect but I knew from the book and Yahoo chat this is what is to happen if He/You wanted. I got nervous and you stopped. What if we were spotted and this was my town what if a friend of my husband saw us... See I was naive and stupid. You told me to take you to my home. I nodded and did. JUST met this man and did. I was lucky you didn't hurt me. I brought you into my home and you whistled. I was proud of my house. You then ordered me to kneel and you stripped me. You put me in the correct position for kneeling and you touched my pussy and breasts. I was in heaven. I can't describe the feeling of being under that gaze that makes you forget how ugly and fat you are. That gaze that makes you feel womanly, sexy and that you'll do anything for Him. Master Tim gave me his address and told me to meet you at your house tomorrow if I was serious.  I was serious. I did everything you commanded. I was not perfect. I was tired. Annoying. Hell, you had to order me to fuck my husband (my first Master was so considerate). When you worked late, I went out with the "girls" at your commands so you wouldn't be bored. Tired up in the back of your party bus. The patrons thought it was a great gag. When you parked and they went to the clubs to party you couldn't leave the bus. We had fun. Whatever Master wanted. Needed. Then one day out of the blue you said your were sick/hurt and that you were moving to Georgia. And left. Just like that. I was released and you were gone. Over the phone. A year or so back I had begged you to meet me divorce my husband so I could be your slave full time. You said you couldn't give me the life I was used to. I'm not an idiot. I realized you lived in poverty let's be honest and I was upper middle class but that didn't matter to me. I just wanted this life but permanent. I thought I could say least prove to you that I was what you wanted but you were gone. I didn't even get a say. I was devastated. I was crying on the bed and my husband sat next to me. He said that our first 3 years of marriage/dating was hard but these last 5 years have been pure bliss. Now I'm home crying like I lost a family member. He gently asked if I had been cheating. I told him yes. That it was bdsm and he said he didn't realize how important it was to me. He would try. My husband found out I was cheating our whole marriage and said he'll be what I needed to be happy. I agreed. It lasted a mere thought. The man is just not built like that and I was trained in the strictest version of bdsm. He was doomed to fail.I was depressed sad and this life I can't stand anymore. Everything made sense with Master Tim. This... This life didn't.. I got divorced.  I've had Masters after Tim but ... I'm not worthy. I'm not submissive. I'm a slave. They are different to me. I get excited at options cuz I'm used to not having them and honestly I don't really want the choices. I'm a slave. I do as commanded. That feels right. I don't mind getting to make a recommendation but ... Yeah ...I'm too old now to keep looking for a Master. Youth is not on my side and my pretty looks is aging. It's harder to stay slim naturally and ... I really hate this life. I wish I never found that damn book. I wish I never had good Masters and then bad Masters but regardless Masters. I wish I could be normal and vanilla and that I don't long for the strict confined world I can no longer be a part of.  I wish there was a way for the pain to end.  It's so incredibly painful to be this way, I can't help it, and there is no counterpart. Its worse than being lonely. I'm a slave with no Master. I can't breathe, I can't think, I try desperately to never engage to not think of this life.  it wasn't supposed to be this way and like I said lated 3 weeks. I'm pathetic. 

My view on online dating sites: They work great when seen as a way to make a connection with someone you wouldn't otherwise meet as long as you then quickly move the introduction into real time and real life dating. Otherwise, it's a waste of time for me. That's why I won't chat with you or entertain any "possibilities" if you live more than 100 miles away from me. If you're spending all of your free time interacting online, then you're only going to cotinue facilitating your online relationships. And that is definitely NOT what I personally am looking for. I'm only interested in meeting people fact-to-face and spending time together person-to-person. I currently host a singles gathering in Fort Myers, FL for just this purpose. Because I understand that if I want to interact more with people in person I have to actually meet up with people in person. We meet on the 3rd Friday of the month. Message me if you want more info about the location. It's a great group, and a good way to connect with others. So I just want to make it clear that if you send me a message expressing interest, I'm going to want to pin down an actual meet in Fort Myers within a week or so of our first conversation or I'm going to completely lose interest. It is what it is.

I have always said I do not want a 24/7 kink relationship.  I fear that I will lose me. The me that I took so long to understand and love.  But I was recently communicating with a Master who was looking for just such a relationship.  My initial thought was I don't want that and we discussed it and that prompted me to do alot more thinking on the matter. I am already seeking someone who can take charge and lead. Someone who can help silence my racing thoughts and set my mind free. Someone who will treat me like the special person I am and bring out my full submission and dedication.  Now I wonder if I am letting my fear hold me back. That is typical for me, to be honest.  Maybe 24/7 is what I need. Maybe I just don't understand my needs.  I wonder if meeting the right person would mean there will be no more questions. Maybe with the right one there would be no question about my full and freely given submission. No more worry about losing a part of myself.  Maybe........ XOXOXO

Ok folks, most of us have noticed it, some have complained or tried to get Collarspace to change it, but some words or part of words are deleted from messages and from journal posts so here's a start for a list.. please post a journal entry to add other examples I've not included, of W O R D S that aren't allowed:   Example 1:   A S P   is not allowed as 3 consecutive characters in any word and wouldn't show up above if spaces were not put in.   so people write about   r A S P b e r r i e s    or write about   t e A S P o o n s   and it shows up as rberries or teoons   Example 2:   f o r m   is not allowed as 3 consecutive characters in any word and wouldn't show up above without the extra spaces   so people write to talk about being a   n o n c o n F O R M i s t   or something being   i n F O R M a t i v e   or about   i n F O R M a t i o n   and you get  nonconist or inative or you get ination.   Example 3:   s c r i p t   Is not allowed. Most commonly you see people trying in their profile or journal to use the word   d e S C R I P T i o n   and you get this word d e i o n.. and you might have wondered that this  d e i o n thing is.. that's why..(edit: looks like that one it puts in the longer word you want for you, if you type the shorter one D E I O N, strange)   Example 4:   Perhaps most ironically, on a BDSM site you can't use the word   S P A N k   or   S P A N k i n g   because   s p a n   is deleted. You would think that the site administrators would find some other way to avoid people sending malicious code besides just removing parts of words since other sites manage, but this doesn't seem to be going away, and I haven't seen a page that lists them all so I've been meaning to post this for a while   So, over to you all: what words or parts of words have I neglected to include, which are also forbidden and automatically deleted? Maybe someone can make a list of all the punctuation marks that are not allowed and which ones are maybe allowed in journals but not messages or vice versa, since I haven't tried to make a list of those. But any other words I've missed that are deleted outright?

Master's WritingsSubmission, as I see itSubmission comes in many forms and on my journey different subs have approached it from different angles. Some see it as service, some as opening themselves up to another, and some even see it as a rejection of the world with it demands and requirements. Over the years, I have trained several submissives to reach greater depth in their submission and I’ve tried to work within their mindset, helping each to reach their potential in a way that is honest, true, and unique.At its core, submission is and should be a genuine reflection of an individual’s inner truth. A sense of their own purpose and way of life they choose to accept. It comes from a place within each submissive that reflaspects their own nature, and their most authentic expression of self.The nature of any true “submissive training” should and must be focused on helping the submissive connect with their nature, create the pathways to more fully access their own unique form of submission, and then finally build on that to blend it into their daily life. All the tasks and sexual acts, the “yes Sirs” and downward glances of respect, mean nothing and are worthless self-indulgent Dominant games, if the goal of these acts are not designed to deepen a submissives connection to their own beautiful, natural, and authentic submissive self.Submission is a gift. This single phrase bears repeating, because it is so very true and frequently overlooked - Submission is a gift. When fully developed, submission is a powerful and sometimes spiritually beautiful thing to behold. It is never to be taken, coerced, or forced. It is not for role play or pretend, Of course one could act like a submissive as if putting on a costume, but not with me as their Dominant. I hols submission, true submission in the highest regard. And to pretend to be one only cheapens the gift of those who truly feel its calling.As a Dominant, I see my role as helping others in any way I can on their journey, as their guide, nurturer, and mentor.

I’m not interested in disrespectful, fake subs who throw temper tantrums like toddlers denied candy. I’m not here for a drama queen who thinks his pussy is somehow better than mine — sweetie, we’re not comparing fruit here. Life’s too short for attitude, bad manners, and ego contests. If you want my time, bring respect, humor, and a little humility… otherwise, you can keep your crown and your tantrums for someone else’s court

Hiya cissys and male pigs!!!   2013 has had a very good start for ME, so good that I have decided to DISMISS 5 of MY stable of devoted cissy slaves, I shall shortlist 7 from my stable and let them compete against each other to see which 2 can stay with my other bitches!   This allows ME to seek out other devoted hopefuls and select 2 or 3 of them to Worship and Serve ME, The Miss Davinia Jade, Arrogant TV Superbitch, Superior and Demanding of YOU<<<<   mmmm I WILL enjoy the selection process, interrogating and then shaping them to MY way of thinking until they finally become MY cissified pansy slaves, begging to serve ME!!! hahahaha

The Officer's Seduction The night had a certain allure, a seductive darkness that seemed to beckon Seraphine Vale as she drove home from work. It was well past midnight, the hour when the world slept, and the roads were nearly deserted. Her shift at the art restoration studio had been particularly grueling, and she longed for the solace of her own bed. Little did she know, this night would offer a different kind of solace, one that would leave her breathless and trembling.   As she navigated the familiar route, her thoughts drifted, contemplating the intricate details of an ancient painting she had been working on. Seraphine's mind was a sanctuary of quiet concentration, her focus unwavering until a sudden flash of blue and red lights snapped her back to reality. She slowed her car to a halt, her heart pounding against her ribcage as she realized she had inadvertently strayed into a speed trap.   The officer who approached her vehicle was a striking figure, his tall, lean frame cloaked in the authoritative uniform of a police officer. It was Lucian Asterian, a man whose reputation preceded him, though not in the typical way of law enforcement. His dark, piercing eyes seemed to see right through her, and his presence was both commanding and unsettling.   "License and registration, please," his voice was deep and clipped, carrying an undertone of authority that sent a shiver down Seraphine's spine. She complied, her hands treming slightly as she handed over the requested documents. Lucian's gaze was intense, almost predatory, as if he was studying her, not just her papers.   "Step out of the car, Miss," he ordered, his voice laced with a hint of something that made Seraphine's stomach flutter. She hesitated, her mind racing with questions, but the command in his eyes left no room for argument. Slowly, she opened the door and stepped onto the deserted road, the cool night air caressing her skin.   Lucian's eyes roamed over her, taking in her slender form, clad in a simple black dress that accentuated her delicate curves. His gaze lingered on her face, noting the stormy gray eyes that seemed to mirror his own intensity. "Hands behind your back," he instructed, his voice now a low, seductive growl.   Seraphine's breath caught in her throat as she felt the cold metal of the handcuffs against her wrists. Lucian's touch was firm, his fingers grazing her skin as he secured the cuffs, sending a jolt of awareness through her body. She stood there, vulnerable and exposed, as he circled her, his eyes raking over her like a physical caress.   "What's a beautiful woman like you doing out here at this hour?" he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. Seraphine shivered, her body betraying her as she leaned into his touch. Lucian's hand slid down her arm, his fingers entwining with hers, and for a moment, she felt the warmth of his palm against her skin.   Then, without warning, he spun her around, pressing her body against the hood of her car. The cold metal was a stark contrast to the heat emanating from Lucian's body. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against her ear, his breath hot and intoxicating. "You're a naughty girl, breaking the rules," he whispered, his voice a husky purr.   Seraphine's heart was racing, her body responding to his words, to the dominance in his tone. She felt a rush of wetness between her thighs as he ran his hands up her sides, his fingers kneading her soft flesh. He squeezed her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her hardening nipples through the thin fabric of her dress, eliciting a soft moan from her lips.   "You like that, don't you?" he growled, his voice thick with desire. "You like being touched, being taken right here on the side of the road." His words were a taunt, a challenge, and Seraphine couldn't deny the truth in them. She nodded, her eyes closing as she surrendered to the sensations coursing through her.   Lucian's hands moved lower, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of her dress, tracing the lace of her panties. He teased her, his touch light and teasing, making her ache for more. With a swift motion, he tore her panties away, leaving her exposed and wanting.   "Please," she whispered, her voice hoarse with need. "I want..."   Lucian didn't let her finish. Instead, he gripped her hips, pulling her back against his hard length. She could feel his erection, straining against his uniform, as he positioned himself at her entrance. Without warning, he thrust forward, claiming her in one swift, brutal stroke.   Seraphine cried out, her body arching as he filled her, not with the gentleness she had anticipated, but with a rough, primal urgency. He pounded into her, his hips slamming against her buttocks, his hands gripping her hips tightly, leaving marks on her skin. The pain was exquisite, blending with the pleasure until she couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.   "You're so tight," he grunted, his breath hot against her neck. "So fucking wet." His words were crude, but they only served to heighten her arousal. She wanted to be used, to be taken by this man, in this moment, in the most primal way possible.   Lucian's rhythm was relentless, his body a powerful force driving into hers. He reached around, his fingers finding her clit, and began to rub in time with his thrusts. Seraphine's world narrowed to the sensations he was eliciting, the feel of his cock buried deep within her, the roughness of his fingers against her sensitive flesh.   "Cum for me," he demanded, his voice a harsh command. "Let me feel it, you beautiful bitch."   His words were like a trigger, and Seraphine's orgasm exploded through her, rippling waves of pleasure that left her gasping and trembling. She cried out, her body convulsing around him, her juices flowing freely as she climaxed. Lucian's own release followed swiftly, his cock throbbing as he emptied himself deep inside her, his hot seed filling her ass.   They stood there, panting, their bodies slick with sweat and the evidence of their passion. Lucian's hands released her hips, and he stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers. Seraphine felt exposed, vulnerable, and yet, there was a sense of power in her surrender.   He reached down, uncuffing her hands, and then, without a word, he adjusted his uniform, the bulge in his pants a testament to their encounter. Seraphine watched, her body still humming with pleasure, as he walked back to his patrol car.   As she slid back into the driver's seat, her dress in disarray and her body throbbing, she realized the detour had been more than just a chance encounter. It was a night that would forever be etched in her memory, a night where she had been taken, possessed, and left wanting more. As she drove away, the road ahead seemed brighter, as if the darkness had illuminated a new path, one that led straight to Lucian's door.

          Good Morning 🍒 Male submissives are beautiful and desirable creatures, and it is absolutely tragic when they do not know their own desirability because they are forcibly taught, not just by mainstream society but by the BDSM community, that they are not desirable, that they can not possibly be objaspects of desire I am not dominant because I hate men, but because I love and desire men enough to want to own them. I cherish and appreciate submissive men for their beautiful masculinity. Submissive men just gets the pussy juices flowing for me. Their yielding excites me in a primal way. Their desire to please, to be pursued, to be attractive for me, the object of my fierce and hungry gaze, is what pushes my buttons. I certainly respect people who are wired differently. I just won't date them.

              Pop That: Unpacking the Brat, Bimbo, and Babygirl Archetypes in Lightskinkeisha’s Anthem some people would look at this song called pop that by the rapper lightskinkeisha as just a ratchet trashy song and move on from there. it is ratchet, but there's more to the picture going on here if you choose to see it.   if you look at the artist lightskinkeisha as a little girl or babygirl this song no longer becomes just a trashy ratchet fun song, but an anthem for an identity within the lifestyle. an anthem of a brat.   the song itself is bombastic and dance y and very bubblegum gritty. but if you take the song and put it through a transpose app or use a tool to transpose it and make the pitch of her voice higher and the speed of the song faster, it transforms it even into another identity if you choose to see...the bimbo.   and so we get the three way combo with a simple song pop that...   babygirl   bimbo   brat   the great thing too is you can look at it individually from each of these lenses, or you can work on seeing it through two at a time, or you can look at it with all three.   people sometimes forget that while someone can be a babygirl that is also a bimbo and a brat, that just because you are a brat it doesn't mean that you are a bimbo, and that some bimbos are also little girls too. i personally don't really live in this world most of the time. but sometimes i have a bit of a brat behavior to me behind the keyboard as the writer. but i like to write about various sides of what the identity of a little girl is. and when i consume media, i see the different sides of what a babygirl is, even if it's not directly relatable to me.   because this is a fun silly pop bop there isn't much to decipher from lyrics wise. while i use esoteric and spiritual references for pop media i don't pull things out of thin air just for the content. however, there are some stanzas' i'd like to focus on.   Big Bank Beisha, bitch Tre Trax, I think we got one, haha It's Trax season bruh   Throw it back, watch me throw it back Got my Daisy Dukes on, I don't know how to act Walk up in the building, make them niggas spend a bag Ho, I been it, that's why you bitches really mad, hold on   when it's a song that is over the top the themes are going to be over the top. one might be initially put off at the focus on her getting men to spend lots of money on her but if you reframe it in the bimbo/brat perspective it makes more sense. she's an exaggerated version of femininity, she's talking about the guy in an exaggerated version of masculinity. and if you see it in a brat frame it's also her testing her boundaries with the guy. the entire rambunctiousness is all about how far can she go before getting 'caught'. how much can she push before it's too much. how wild can she be before she tips it over and breaks it. i see these less about a materialism, and less about superficialness and more about brashness, boundaries, bodaciousness, and crass. especially in a closed relationship it's seeing how smart can you get before you consensually get punished, smacked, talked back to, reprimanded.   I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) Fuck it up, bitch Fuck it up, bitch   I'ma throw that ass back and shake it in a circle (damn) Got your man lookin', yeah, he like the way I work it He gon' blow some racks on me because he know it's worth it (blow it) Body snatched with a face to match, call me perfect Daisy Dukes on, bend it over like Ms. Parker (hey Ms. Parker) Pretty redbone, bitch, I'm badder than a toddler Drop it to the floor and make 'em spend their last dollar All this milk that I'm shakin' make the boys wanna holler   while you could say that lightskinkeisha's reference to badder than a toddler is randomized if you look at her bigger pieces of work it makes sense why when this comes out i squeal with joy. it's a reference of being seen. it's an aesthetic, it's a insider's throwback to if you know you know. she has many songs that reference daddy for the male partner she sings about. and she often references the dynamics of the songs with a power dynamic power scale going on there. an uneven power balance by choice where it's not an equal relationship.   Throw it back, watch me throw it back Got my Daisy Dukes on, I don't know how to act Walk up in the building, make them niggas spend a bag Ho, I been it, that's why you bitches really mad, hold on   I'ma pop that,   I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) Fuck it up, bitch Fuck it up, bitch   Booty, make it bounce, I'ma drop it (drop it) Shake it so fast, I can't stop it (stop it) Make him wanna hit it like a Bop It (twist it) Bust it wide open, I'ma pop it   I'ma look back at it while I shake it on his lap (lap) Got a big ole booty, you can give that shit some dap My pussy taste like Fiji while your pussy taste like tap (Fiji) When he slap that booty, bitch, it's gonna bounce back (haha)   Throw it back, watch me throw it back Got my Daisy Dukes on, I don't know how to act Walk up in the building, make them niggas spend a bag Ho, I been it, that's why you bitches really mad, hold on   I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) Fuck it up, bitch Fuck it up, bitch   I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it u

DRAMA FREE ZONE! About Me BDSM ROCKS Music: Rock- classic/hard/metal, country, rockabilly, blues and jazz etc. Movies: I like movies that make me laugh or keep me on edge. TV: Game of Thrones. Dexter. The Vikings. I HATE reality shows. Handmaids Tale. Keeping up Appearances. MOM. The Goldbergs. Call the Midwife. Vikings Valhalla. Sports: OHIO STATE! Interests: Harleys, Music, Bands, Spring/Fall and Winter, I dislike summer. Hate to sweat (menopause is a bitch), Budweiser Beer, Mountains, History, Earth, Space, Camping, auctions, flea markets, technology, coasters and tattoos. BDSM and Poly Dreams: I dream of a relaxed, exciting, smart, silly, not too shy, not toooo friendly, honest, affectionate, reality-based, eager to learn, eager to teach, kinda cute, kinda funny but not funny looking explorer to share days, nights, weekends, adventures, conversations, dinners, breakfasts, kisses, good food and dreams of things to come. Bad boys with tattoos! Dominates! Best Features: My brain and the person I am. I have a killer personality. About Me: "Some guys don't like girls like me, Awwww but some guys do". I am a God-fearing woman. I am eclectic, eccentric, and scatter-brained with a touch of ADHD. I love to ride. Though I do not personally own a bike, I ride every chance I get with friends. I think the government hides more from us than we can imagine. I drink and sometimes am tooo honest and say things I should not. I was raised an only girl with 3 brothers, I am the oldest but to them, I am always gonna be " Baby Sis". I can be a best friend or partner in crime. I'll help you move. Hell, I'll even help you move a body. I expect help when I move though. I keep my circle of friends small but close. My friends don't all know each other but all have the same mindset. I'd like to one day be traveling in one of those RV's. Or live in a castle complete with a dungeon. Where to find me: Where can I find You? Things that SUCK: Perverts, rapists, child molesters, Sharia Law, terrorists, Full page comments, Chain letter comments, Auto-play - Nuff said, 20 year old girls from Malaysia contacting 47 year old guys from USA., Happy clowns, spiders, racist scum, Political correctness, Being alone, Men who don't love me, Mushrooms (unless they are trippy) and onions, Heavy Rap, Hoppy Beers, Junkies, Narrow minded assholes, Dishonesty, Seeds, Having the wrong lottery numbers, Rent payments, Car payments, Wars over Bullshit, Summer, Celibacy, Traffic, CEO's, LEO's , Getting old, Laundry, Serial killers, Random killers, Killers, Taxes, Reality shows, Politics, Rush Limbaugh, Bill O'Rieley, Extremists of all sorts, high shipping prices, stalkers. Jail. More things that suck: Summer, Stems, Mean drunks, Parking tickets, Viruses on porn sites, losing at anything, The heroin dealing assholes of everywhere!, Jaeger bombs, Nazis, Not getting flirty tags, 9/11/2001, Lost loved ones, Katrina, Calling a spade a club, Packing and moving, animal abusers, Thinking everything sucks Things that rock: Friends and family who love me, Blue purple, green and black, Free tv and movies, Fine agriculture, Being in the mountains, Chinese food, Being cool, My woman cave, Me, My friends, Being in love, Sex, Life, My Family, Rock & roll, Humor, Good vodka and pineapple rum, Little Beers, winning a game, Smiling people, Tattoos, All of my friends which are far and in between due to people being jackasses. Finding my REAL dominant to train me properly.

The parcel She didn’t often get the house to herself this early in the day.  The kids had been collected by their father at 3pm and her Friday evening and the weekend stretched before her.  Pub with friends tomorrow night, she thought. But this afternoon she had planned to masturbate herself stupid.  She ignored the usual, quieter, stick vibe in her bedside drawer.  Instead she slid the innocuous-looking brown box from under her bed.  It was covered in dust but, inside, her large black mains wand was pristine.  She stripped off, put some lube onto the large head and lay on her bed; legs spread wide. Something was waking her up.  She had brought herself to orgasm 3 times before having to stop because her clit was too sensitive for her to make herself hold the wand there any longer, and she must have dozed off.  The light through her curtains had dimmed considerably and she guessed it was about 6pm.  What the hell had woken her?  Then she heard the knocking at her front door and realized that someone was outside.  Shit!  The new set of butt plugs she had ordered.  She didn’t want to miss the delivery; not when she had the whole weekend in front of her to try them out.  Worried about how long the delivery person had already been stood on her front doorstep, she threw on the closest thing to hand - an oversize jumper - and started down the stairs. As she approached her front door she shrugged irritably at the jumper, which was far too large and kept slipping off one shoulder.  She paused for a moment when she saw the large shape through the frosted pane of glass in her door.  Whoever was out there was enormous and she was wearing nothing but a jumper.  Quickly she reminded herself that she lived on a main road, surrounded by neighbours, and that she really wanted those butt plugs.  She opened the door. He had been about to push a card through the letterbox and go back to his van, kind of annoyed that the last delivery of the day was out and he would have to return the parcel to the depot, when the door suddenly opened.  His eyes widened in surprise and he lowered the parcel to waist level when he saw what stood in the doorway.  The woman’s long blonde hair looked delightfully tousled, like she had just got out of bed and her green eyes looked very dark.  Her exact shape was difficult to see in the shapeless jumper she wore but, as it stopped high on her thighs, he could guess that she was plump and curvy in all the right places underneath it. One of her shoulders was bare and he could see that the last of her summer tan hadn’t quite faded from it.  The woman quickly folded her arms.  He thought she looked a little embarrassed to be standing there in just a jumper.  Didn’t she realize that folding her arms pushed her very large breasts together and increased the amount of cleavage he could see?  “Lovehoney delivery for you,” he said, instantly realising that he had let slip the fact that he knew what was inside the ‘discreet’ brown box he carried.  The sight of her had obviously driven that knowledge to the forefront of his mind. Her mouth opened and she felt her cheeks turn crimson when she heard the words from the tall stranger.  Her arms unfolded and fell to her sides and, for a moment, an image of this hazel-eyed stranger pushing one of her new butt plugs into her arse as she held it open for him flashed across her mind.  She blinked and the image was gone, but she wondered how long she had stood there, staring, before stepping forwards and saying, “Yes, that’s right.” As she stepped forward he noticed that she hadn’t corrected him about the origin of the parcel.  He also noticed that she was still not quite as tall as he was, even though he was stood on a step below the level of her hallway. God she looked attractive, he thought, like she’d just finished having sex but wanted more.  She probably had her husband upstairs waiting, although he noticed that she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.  “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything,” he said, handing the parcel to her.  He watched her flush again and say, “No, no, I’m all alone.”  As she took the parcel he found himself staring straight into her eyes.  They were dark green and seemed to be asking for something that she hadn’t articulated yet.  He couldn’t believe the next words out of his mouth, “Look, I hope you don’t mind, it’s been a really long shift, please could I use your toilet?” She made a small step back into her hallway and stared at the man in front of her.  Medium build but very tall, he was wearing work boots and jeans; a casual shirt was tucked loosely into the jeans and she could see a t-shirt underneath.  Her eyes lingered on a well-worn, brown leather belt, then they travelled to his face.  His eyes were twinkling mischievously but he also looked a little nervous, like he was about to change his mind about something.  He looked strong and gentle at the same time and she felt her belly warm as she looked at him.  “Of course, the cloakroom’s just behind me.” He stepped over the threshold and pushed the door closed behind him before saying, “Thank you.”  The hallway was very small and she had stepped back into another doorway, to the left, that looked like it led to the living room.  There was a door in front of him so he took off his muddy boots and stepped through it.  The cloakroom was small; fitted under the staircase.  He suddenly wondered how he was going to urinate when his cock was semi hard.  He would have to wait for a moment to let it go down. She put the parcel on the kitchen table before returning to the living room and perching on the arm of one of the sofas.  She tried to collect her thoughts.  There was a large, strange man in her house, and she was naked apart from a loose jumper.  She quickly came to the realization that she didn’t care one bit.  In fact, she recognised that she was aroused.  Maybe because she had fallen asleep masturbating, but she suspected it was more to do with the man in her cloakroom.  If someone had stolen knowledge of the physical attributes of her ideal man, they would have created the person in her downstairs cloakroom.  She heard the flush and water running and then realized he was stood in the doorway looking at her again.  Making a decision, she straightened her back and shoulders and confidently asked, “Would you like a nice hot coffee before you head off?” He had been about to thank her again and say his goodbyes, when the woman with the just fucked hair and bedroom eyes thrust her tits out and invited him to stay for a coffee.  He agreed but, as she asked him to follow her into the kitchen, he realized he was playing with fire here.  He told himself, and by that he meant his cock, to wait for a very clear signal before committing himself to making a move.  After all, perhaps all the 40-something women in this suburb invited delivery men into their homes for coffee, whilst strolling around in next to nothing, just to tease and give themselves something to talk about at the school gates the next morning. She flicked the kettle on and took milk out of her fridge, noticing that he had leant himself on the back of one of her kitchen chairs.  Watching her.  She could see the parcel containing the butt plugs on the table behind him and her cheeks blushed again.  He had folded his arms across his chest and crossed

It’s no surprise that I have been on this site Collarme now called CollarSpace a long time since Two thousand and eight and I am becoming impatient. I try to be as transparent as possible whenever the time arises. I have been lied to way too much to do anything less than be honest and hopefully get the respect of honestly back. I have been lied to most of my life about big and small things As my birth mom would say I HATE LIES especially volunteer lies I felt that in my soul when she said that. Willingness to communicate clearly is easier said than done I have to say I put my all in everything I do and say and for many of these sites that I am on I feel like guys only see or want what they see or want and dont actually want the real deal just the fantasy of it all. I would love to find a balance between the vanilla and the S/M world. I feel like I am a very direct and transparent person but maybe I am not? I am very tired of expending resources, time, and energy on frivolous endeavors. SIGH!!!

I don't use the term fake when describing a person who isn't suitable for Me. A bottom pushing his own needs is off my radar because an actual submissive with five years experience ar giving up authority outside of play and in life who drives his own car, who already goes to munches and clubs is IN my radar. So many on here who contact Me are not suitable so I rarely login here. Guys wonder where all the Dominant Women are? They are not on here for the reason I just gave. Pushy bottoms want a a kink service but don't go to fetish clubs to get their kink fix. There are plenty of tops at fet clubs happy to give twenty minutes of play for a drink and foot rub. Quid-pro-quo, give something in return as two human beings. Simple.  Mistress Whipplash Ma'am   

Requirements as a submissive; honesty, trust, and genuine effort, not perfection.   I think a lot of people have the wrong idea or wrong impression of what it takes to be in a dynamic. They have this fairy tale mentality about BDSM dynamics and what they should be like. I imagine this is because in some ways they have been so romanticized and popularized that its a great fantasy for things to work out that way. Unfortunately though, that isn't reality. At least not for the majority of us. We don't need perfect. We aren't looking for perfect, and we don't want you to be perfect. What we want is honesty, trust, and genuine effort.   Now those three things can mean a lot more than what they look like on the surface. So lets break it down a little. Starting with honesty. What does honesty mean? Well it means a lot. It means being honest, being truthful, being real, meaning what you say, and saying what you mean. It means so much more than that but I think that you get the idea. Take it from someone who found out the hard way how difficult life can be when you don't live it honestly compared to how much easier it is when you just live within the truth. When there are no secrets or games and you are just you, all of the good parts and the bad. You take responsibility for yourself and your faults and when you screw up you admit it. You are honest about who you are and what you want. One of the biggest parts in honesty in my opinion though, being a person of your word. If you say you are going to do something, or that you wont do something, you hold yourself to it. Your word is your bond. If you cant do that then you really aren't worth much.   Next we move on to trust. So what is trust? Well to put it simply trust is a combination of honesty and actions. At least thats a very simply put version of what it is really. Without trust you can't build any kind of real foundation for anything. That applies to any kind of relationship and not just anything in the realm of BDSM. That applies to friendships and work relationships just as much as personal and romantic relationships. Without trust you can't ever really let yourself go in any situation. You are always on guard. Without trust nothing will work in the long term, it will all be just a superficial flash in the pan.   Last we come to genuine effort. You can have honesty and trust, but it wont mean much of anything unless a person is willing to put forth genuine effort. You can have all of the perfect components and get absolutely nowhere if only one person is putting forth any effort or if one person is only putting forth minimal effort. We all understand that everyone has a life, we are all busy, we all have things going on, we get that. All I'm saying is don't claim to want something if you aren't willing to put forth the effort in actually pursuing or developing it. Maybe you don't put in the effort because you are scared, or any number of 100 different reasons, who knows. What I do know is how absolutely disheartening it can be when someone tells you over and over again that they want something with you and then they just never show up. If you want it, then you have to put forth the effort. Actual genuine effort. And yes that may mean taking time out of your day doing other things that you normally do like watching tiktoks or whatever other superficial thing it is that you spend most of your time doing. When you tell someone repeatedly that you want something with them, but also that you never have time for them its difficult but most people will still make an effort. When they later find out that you actually spend hours a day on social media not actually doing anything and you are still claiming that you don't have enough time for them thats a giant slap in the face. Learn how to prioritize what is important if these are things that you actually want and stop playing with the people that do actually want them if you don't.   Honesty, trust, and genuine effort. In my opinion, I don't feel like those things are too much to ask, at least not to start with. Maybe I'm wrong, who knows. I've been known to be a little old fashioned in my values in that sort of way. Maybe I'm no longer with the times. If thats the case then so be it I guess. I have a feeling that I'm not the only one that thinks the way I do though. Here is to hoping that I'm not. 

6/5/2024 6:33:05 PM All set with game players and time wasters and dream killers.     I don't lie, cheat or steal.   I am looking for the right slave.  Correction, I am looking for a right connection and a decent human being who knows how to treat a woman, and wants to explore together.  A right male is MORE THAN ENOUGH to be by My side and in reasonable good time.  I am looking for a live in relationship, not email, phone or text. I'm dominant and that isn't going to change.  I feel no threat from a man who knows his mind and has the ability to speak up for himself and be a team player.  Welcome.  We can co-rule our own little world together.   My mother lives with Me and has Alzheimer's.  You serve Me, you serve She.  You are with Me, you are with her.   Be real and ready to communicate effectively and get to know one another in the flesh.     Be terrific in your own right.  I require a man who is strong enough to champion Me and I offer nothing less in return.    DON'T WASTE  MY  TIME.

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.

This bears reposting just about everywhere. I don't know why I bother though; guys will agree with their mouths but so many don't agree with their hearts: What do you mean when you offer to serve? What do you mean when you offer to BE of service? What do mean when you offer yourself in servitude? Do the answers to these questions bring up visions of you being bound helplessly while being exquisitely tortured, teased to the verge of orgasm? Do you envision some Amazon Goddess sporting a huge strap-on taking you anally? Do you envision yourself prancing around in some French Maid Costume and being asked to provide oral service to a Mistress? Do you envision some woman sqatting over your helplessly bound body "forcing" you to serve her orally? Or do you envision being put over her knee and spanked like a naughty little boy? Yes, nice visions aren't they? However, not one of those visions is the definition of "serve", "service" or "servitude". Oh, I'm sure many subs consider them to be just that, but if you check your dictionaries you won't find any mention of French Maid Costumes, bondage, strap-ons, oral sex, or any other fetish you may enjoy. In fact you won't find any mention of fetishes at all in the definitions Serve is defined as: 1. to work for, be a servant; 2. to act in a specific capacity; 3. to place food before, wait on; 4. to be of assistance to. Service is defined as: 1. the occupation or duties of a servant; 2. the act or means of serving; 3. duties performed as an occupation. Servitude is defined as: Submission to a master; slavery. When you offer to serve a FemDom, what you are offering (or should be offering) is the surrender of your control. You should know her well enough to trust her with your life. When you offer your servitude to her, you are telling her that you trust her judgment, you trust her to keep you safe from harm, you trust her to know what is best for both of you, you trust her decisions and desire to follow her orders and obey her in all things. Your offer of service is your ability to let go of your ego and your free will (control) and allow her to control you. Serving is, first and foremost, the act of making her life easier. It is compliance with all her desires, wishes, orders. Yes, BD/SM and fetish play, more than likely, will be included as part of the relationship. But overall, the D/s ect of the relationship will be where you have turned your control over to her and you do as she says. It is about pampering her and catering to her. Everyday life will be a part of this, for most people do have to work, bills do have to be paid, people need to see doctors occasionally, and dentists. Then there are family get togethers, family emergencies, social gatherings with vanilla friends and also with D/s friends. For the most part, life will seem pretty vanilla, but there will be one difference. IF you have truly submitted, then your actions will be measured by how your Mistress would feel about it. Your decisions will be based upon what you are allowed, or not allowed to decide without her permission. You will treat others with respect, but especially other women. You will consider that your actions would reflect back upon your Mistress, and therefore act in a manner that would make her proud of you. There may be other constant reminders, she may insist you wear panties under your clothes at work. But you will always remember that you have submitted to her and will honor that commitment. How can you serve your Mistress - what are the ways? Here are some suggestions: -Make sure her home is clean and neat. -Make sure her clothes are clean and neat. -Prepare her favorite foods for her. -Prepare her bath. -Rub her feet after she comes in from working all day. -Offer her a massage if her day was very stressful. -Offer to do her manicure and pedicure. -Have her favorite music playing or find her favorite show or movie on TV. -Surprise her with flowers. -Serve her coffee as soon as she gets up in the morning. -Ask what clothing she wants laid out for her. These are just a few of the ways you can serve her once you have been trained in what she wants and likes. Don't be afraid to use your imagination to surprise her (provided of course that she has no problem with you doing this occasionally). A happy, contented, pleased, relaxed woman is a woman who will then have no problem torturing you, using you, or even indulging you with a fetish or two that are your favorites…………just to show you how much she really appreciates your service and submission to her. So, what are you offering?

We found this online and now can't find it to reference. We are grateful to the author What is a Daddy Dom \ little girl relationship: Daddy Dom/little girl does not refer to the ages, real or pretend, of the participants. Nor does it imply closet desires. We do not engage in age play specifically (beyond the occasional school girl fantasy) and our relationship is not based on any need to have sex with children. A Daddy Dom is so named because of the qualities he possesses and the service he provides. So, what are these qualities? What is a Daddy Dom? His love for his little girl goes without saying. He loves her as much for who she is as for who she will become with his guidance. She is his prized possession. His eyes light up when she walks into the room and he takes great pride in her successes. After all, he helped to create her. She holds the most tender part of his heart and has the greatest power to hurt him. This love would not be possible without respect. A Daddy Dom needs to feel pride in his little girl. He needs to know she can hold her own in the outside world and still submit to him. He holds the greatest respect for the gift she has given him and takes great pains to increase it's value. It is extremely important to him to know she can be with any man and she chooses to be with him. He knows that this makes discipline a priority in their lives, more important than in some other D/s relationships. In order for the little girl to really trust, she must know he means what he says. If his little girl is going to be the best she can possibly be he must stand firm. He uses his experience in life and his knowledge of her to provide proper direction and punishment when the need arises. If he does not enforce discipline, this respect becomes a tenuous thing. If his submissive finds that she can manipulate him out of punishing her, she begins to lose respect and the ability to empower becomes impeded. He understands that it becomes increasingly difficult to be possessed by someone you do not respect. A Daddy Dom provides something else that is very important to his submissive...acceptance. She is safe in his arms because he knows her, everything about her, and he still loves her. When she goes to him she knows that this man knows all of her dirty little secrets and it doesn't matter. To him she is beautiful. Daddy Dom and sadistic Dom are by no means mutually exclusive. Many Daddy Doms embrace their sadism while understanding and feeding their submissive's masochism. This balance is necessary to many little girls because it allows all parts of her to be nourished, leading to an incredibly fulfilling relationship. I think most Dominants have a bit of the Daddy in them, taking on the role of male authority figure in the submissive's life and using their power to enrich that life. Daddy/little girl verbalizes that feeling, and adds a dimension of warmth, caring, and ritual that it's participants crave. There is something infinitely magical about a Daddy Dom. Perhaps it is something only a little girl can understand.

Bridget Choses Enslavement   Bridget’s emotions were running wild.  The ride up to Master’s gave her ample time to reflect on this special occasion.  Bridget was to be enslaved today.  Master had often told her that all women secretly wanted to be possessed and owned by a dominant master.  Collared.  Be an enslaved slut.  Bridget had embraced her inner slave and wanted the delicious certainty of being a strong Master’s owned property.  What a glorious feeling to have no need to carry on with the soul killing charade of denying her sexuality, her submission, her needs and desires. Bridget was so sure.  She couldn’t wait for their special ritual.  The ritual was ordered by her Master but she had made adjustments and additions that had delighted Master.  She knew Master treasured her and all of her. He often remarked on her intelligence and how it drove her kink and also drove his passion to be her owner.  Master always said women with a desire for the collar, for enslavement were usually the very intelligent ones.   Before she left home Bridget paid attention in the shower.  Her shaving was meticulous. Her legs, arms, and pussy were smooth as possible. She thrilled at the thought of the way Master would cup her smooth, oiled pussy and run his hand back and forth as she squirmed and moaned. She knew Master loved to lick and kiss her clit.  He also like to use his Hitachi and a soft makeup brush on her.  He’d alternate the vibrator and brush on her clit.  Sometimes he’d just stop and listen to her breathing.  Bridget loved it when he chained her wrists and ankles in his bed and made her come over and over until she screamed.  He’d gag and blindfold her and make her come some more. Master had learned early in their play to put a towel under her.  The wet spot was something to see. Bridget’s enslavement ritual outfit was all white and had been her idea.  Master had suggested adding long white gloves and she agreed with relish.  Once out of the shower, at Master’s direction, she installed two Ben Wa balls in her pussy.  They went in nicely.  When she walked around she could feel them as she moved.  She wondered if walking in heels would accentuate the sensation.  Oh well, she’d find out soon.  Bridget loved Master’s toy collection.  He had a veritable fleet of vibrators including a very useful remote controlled beauty.  Master said he was shopping for an internet controlled vibrator for some long distance fun.  He also had a selection of nipple clamps, some fun and some she feared.  There was a lot more and she was sure the list was growing After carefully pulling on her white stockings and attaching them to her sexy garter she slipped on her skimpy white panties.  A curvy white push up bra completed her underwear.  She had a nice white blouse with a plunging neckline that accentuated her cleavage. Her brief white skirt would expose her slim legs and white stockings.  Finally she slipped on her white high heels with thosecute sexy little ankle straps.  Naturally she added accessories like a string of pearls and a bright red lipstick.  She decided she’d add her fragrance and put on the white gloves when she arrived at Masters. The miles rolled by.  Her heart sang.  She had made her decision.  It felt so right.  All the things she wanted to experience would be hers in a safe and protected place.  Master would help to explore all the dark kinky places she dreamed about.   The highway intersection appeared on her GPS. She had to turn north.   It was time to call Master.  She heard the phone ring.  Her emotions ping ponged.  Master answered with a pleased voice.  She was close.  He could almost sense her.  They both reveled in the joy of anticipation.     Master remarked that he was looking forward to draping her with his new 1/8” stainless steel chain.  Perhaps chaining her breasts with a nice halter.  When he mentioned that he’d like to chain her in Sirik Bridget’s was incredibly turned on.  The thought of the chain running from her collar to the chained wrist manacles and finally ending on the ankle manacles.  Sirik chain bondage allowed movement but served to remind her that she was owned, protected property.  Master loved everything Gorean and spent a lot of time finding ways to practically adapt the mores of Gor to earth.  A significant Gorean notion is that bondage enhances a woman’s beauty.  Bridget agreed but also concluded bondage made her horny as hell. The rural setting, the trees, the quiet appealed to her.  Here’s the driveway.  Turning right and pulling up the long driveway she found herself next to Master’s car and she knew, the beginning of her life changing event was close at hand.  She put her car in park and applied the parkingbreak.  She felt that she also applied a break on her normal, vanilla life.  She would enter the BDSM Sea.  Enter it as one of the more exotic and nuanced denizens.  She would be a slave girl, specifically a Kajira, a Gorean slave.  Bridget and Master had discussed many aspects of enslavement, slave protocols, sexual ownership, and what they each wanted.  She agreed with Master that after all, it was at its heart, an exotic adult game.  They both knew few could play the game, few could accept their role, and few could adhere to the rules and enjoy them with intense satisfaction.  Bridget loved her role and while their private play was so satisfying, she looked forward to their forays into various forms of public play.  Public Play involved exposing part of her BDSM life to the vanilla world.  Bridget always found it surprising.  She couldn’t believe the naughty sense of excitement she felt when she was exposed.  Was it humiliation, she wasn’t sure but it was very kinky indeed. She applied the bright red lipstick.  She loved the color and loved that her Master had told her he loved bright paint on her lips.  He said she was so attractive and luscious and he wanted her lips prominently displayed for him.  Next her fragrance, chosen because it was both understated and exotic.  At last she pulled on the long white gloves that came up to her elbows. Bridget and Master had discussed how she’d wear the long white gloves and he’d hogtie her and use his ball gag.  The picture in her mind of the helpless position always made her wet and horny.  Master had done this before.  Usually he rubbed a rabbit fur all over her body before he pulled her hair and squeezed her tit while he told her how he felt, what he wanted, and what he’d do with her next. As she turned toward the house she found the garage door open and as she had been instructed, she entered the garage and went to the back door leading into Master’s Rec room.  The lighting was subdued but she saw two large shapes draped in thin cloth.  She knew these were their BDSM toys.  Master had built a large cage for her amusement and a sturdy St Andrews cross that would fulfill her desire to be suspended and held helpless. Master had promised to cuff and chain her to the cross.  She knew she’d be naked and looked forward to the way master slipped a gag into her mouth before he applied something to her ass. Usually he forced a silicone bit gag into her mouth before he used his snake whip on her.  She could bite down on the bit and scream at the same time for the serious relief she craved.  Master had assured her she’d receive a serious whipping and perhaps caning that would leave some minor marks.  She wanted the marks.  She wanted to feel his touch afterward.  She wanted all of the things that ownership demanded. She knew Master had plans for an interesting combination Stocks and Spanking Bench.  Bridget had told Master she’d love to be placed in stocks and have her ass molested, pinched, bit, and butt plugged. She wondered if he’d make good on his promise to administer an enema while in the stocks.  Master had a lot of toys and equipment.  He had showed her the enema paraphernalia and it included an interesting flow meter that Master said was important to ensure reasonable flow and comfort.    Climbing the stairs she heard Master’s voice and it made her heart skip a beat.  She loved the way he spoke to her.  He didn’t speak at her rather he spoke with her, sharing his thoughts and sometimes emotions.  Master was sitting in a large black leather chair.  He was wearing his black suit with a black mandarin shirt and a nice red pocket square.  He leaned forward and motioned for her to come up.  He wondered about her trip and if the Ben Wa balls were still in place and how she liked them.  She told him about her journey and, yes, the Ben Wa twins were still in place and had directed her attention at the oddest of times, like stepping on the brakes. He asked her if she was ready, if she wanted to go through with their plans.  Did she really want all the things they had planned for, had discussed.  She knew what he was asking, giving her a graceful out.  Her mind was made up but his trust and care made her even more convinced that she wanted enslavement, wanted slavery, wanted to be an owned woman, Master’s property.  All of their discussions had led to this decision.  They both saw a Master/slave relationship as the purest and incidentally most fun form of a BDSM power exchange.  Both of their roles had been defined in term that made sense to both Bridget answered him by unbuckling her shoe clasps and removing her heels.  Pulling the ribbon from her hair she let it fall loose about her shoulders.  Bridget smiled at her Master and began removing all her clothing.  Finally she stood before her Master totally naked.  Master seemed very pleased. He rose and ran his fingers gently all over Bridget.  Master believed that a Gorean Master took great pride in his Kajira, his slave and should be familiar with every inch of her. Bridget knew that her actually collaring demanded that she be naked. She knelt gracefully before him, raised her arms over her head and crossed her wrists.  Bridget had assumed the Kolar or collar position of a Kajira, a Gorean slave.  She knew the message she was sending was that she was ready to be bound and collared.  Naturally she looked down and waited for Master.  The decision was not only made but by showing her acceptance of their planned bond to her Master she knew it was done.  How happy, how fulfilled.  She almost wanted to cry the emotions were so strong. Her life as a Kajira, a Gorean slave was about to begin.  See accepted that she must always be pleasing and offer perfect obedience. Master formally asked her why she was before him and what were her deepest desires for enslavement.  She continued to look down and at first her voice was a whisper but as she gained confidence she became secure and spoke with a clear steady voice.  She asked to be enslaved.  She pledged to serve Master in all ways.  She would be pleasing at all times with perfect obedience.  She would be the owned possession of Master, subject to his commands, dressing as he directed.  She spoke the words of enslavement, “bind me master”. She spoke the timeless pledge saying she wished to be enslaved and then crossing her wrists in front of her asked that Master bind her.  She felt the ceremonial tying of her wrists with the traditional Gorean yellow bindings.  Master then said he would complete the ceremony, their enslavement ritual, by collaring her.  She felt the collar begin to encircle her throat.  She gasped as he pulled her hair back so he could buckle the collar.  Her formal slave collar was polished metal and had a screw driven locking mechanism.  It would be difficult or next to impossible to remove, not that Bridget would ever think about removing the symbol that encircled her throat.  Master completed fastening her collar.  He took her chin in his hand and remarked on her beauty and suitability to be his Kajira. Master removed the bindings from her wrists and ordered her to stand and had her turn around slowly to display herself. She looked at herself and saw the beautiful collar.  All she could say was “La Kajira, La Kajira”, Gorean for I am a slave. Bridget now understood in a most intimate way that her master treasured her and wanted to enjoy his treasure.  Master had two more things to complete the ritual and the first had Bridget very nervous.  Bridget knew she was to be branded.  Thankfully the branding didn’t call for a real white hot branding iron.  Bridget received a henna dye print representation of the Gorean Kef, a very delicate elaborately beautiful “K”, leaving a sharp red image high on her left thigh.  Next Master spoke her new slave name. When Bridget and Master were together in their new roles, she would be “Sefa”.  Master explained that her new slave name was pronounced SEHF-ah and meant pleasure.  He said she was named that way to remind her how she must always be his pleasure slave.  She didn’t think that would ever be a problem. It was done. Bridget had been collared, branded, and named.   Master said he accepted her as his Kajira.  Master directed her to put on her garter, stockings, panties, and heels.  He snapped a leash onto her collar ring and said “bracelets”.  Bridget immediately put her wrists behind her back, slightly bowed her head, and turned around to receive Master’s manacles. Using the leash and her bound wrists he moved her forward.  Master led her around a bit and then out around the deck. Master often told her that bondage made a woman more beautiful and that served to make her move in a sensuous, elegant manner.  Bridget agreed and could think of nothing better than to be on her knees with her Master’s cock in her mouth. He took her over to a chair by the deck table.  He motioned for her to kneel.  He unclipped the leash and attached a short piece of chain to her collar.  The chain was connected to a d-ring embedded in one of the large deck posts.  Bridget was chained to a post with her wrists bound.  Never before had she felt so at peace.  She was owned.  She had been confined on her Master’s deck.  She felt the chain on her chest.  Bridget’s excitement was mixed with embarrassment and humiliation.  She was on her knees dressed like a tarty slut, out in the open for all the world to see.  She realized that Master was exhibiting her as his prize possession.  Of course she thought, it’s highly unlikely we’ll be disturbed.  We’re out in the woods on a secluded property with foliage all around.  Master laughed and said UPS or FEDEX might show up. Bridget’s life as a slave had begun.  She wished and waited for what was next.  Master said she was to be caged in his slave pen after they had discussed their enslavement ritual.  Master took a plate of fruit and picked up a small piece of melon.  He held it out for her to nibble. She daintily nibbled the fruit.  She was being fed by Master’s hand.  She felt a deep bond and happiness.  Next Master poured some of his cool drink into a small bowel.  He placed it before her and motioned for her to drink.  He was watering his slave, caring for his prize possession.  She knelt before the bowel and lapped at the drink. She felt so humiliated to be made to drink in this fashion but it also was so deliciously kinky.   Her journey had begun.  Life would never be the same.  A calmness, a fullness, a richness had descended on her soul.  Master caressed her cheek and breasts and then checked the manacles.  He also adjusted her collar.  Bridget knew master would always make sure she looked her best.  She was his prize possession. Master leaned back and took a small velvet sack from the side table.  “Nadu” Master commanded and Bridget went into the slave position that had her kneeling with her wrists behind her back. Bridget was fascinated  She knelt with her thighs spread wide, back arched, wrists crossed behind her back.  Master produced a bright red ball gag and told her to open her mouth. Bridget felt the ball pressed tightly into her mouth as Master firmly buckled the gag in place.  She found her hands bound behind her back, and the ball gag reduced her to small whimpers to communicate.  She knew she was vulnerable and totally in the control of her master.  It was delicious.  It made her wet just to think of all the things he would do with her.  The bracelets were gleaming metal and had a short length of chain between them so they were relatively comfortable. Master helped Bridget to stand.  He pulled her panties down to her ankles and helped her bend over. He guided her to lay across his lap and began to stroke and kneed her ass cheeks.  Master remarked that she had a pleasingly plump ass that just begged to be spanked.  Bridget felt her Master applying some kind of oil on her ass cheeks.  She wiggled across his lap into a more comfortable position. It made her feel exposed, controlled, at her Master’s mercy.  Bridget couldn’t believe how excited she felt, how she wanted more, more attention, more control. Master told Bridget that he wanted to assert his ownership, make sure she knew she was his property.  Bridget whimpered her assent. She wanted to be his,begged her master to have her, to make her his own, anyway he wanted.  Just do it now. Master began a slow rhythmic paddling of Bridget’s ass.  Slowly at first but soon faster and harder.  Bridget moaned and gasped. Master paused and asked Bridget if she was his, his property. Bridget thought “yes, yes, yes, have me, have all of me.  I am your Kajira and want to be nothing else”.  Master held up one finger which was the signal for silence Bridget was surprised that Master had shut her up, to be quiet.  She understood that he wanted to be in control.  He told her he felt so completed by their rituals.   Master loved the idea that they had built their own kinky world and Bridget loved the way he ruled it. He could silence her with a command or perhaps a gag.  She loved the delicious excitement when he placed a nice red silicone ball gag in her mouth.  Naturally Master could silence her by imposing speech restrictions and she always complied but the ball gag was so hot. Master reached behind her to the small table by his large leather chair.  Bridget felt his movement and turned her head.  “Oh my” she thought as Master’s hand held the red ball gag, a shiny bright metal butt plug, and a tube of lubrication.  Her heart beat faster as she realized she was in for another anal training session.  

  It is important to start with the right premises and not waste each others time. When contacting Me, I assume that you have read the above information and we now have a common language. There is no reason to discuss this all over again   Complete sincerity is understood and by the slightest sign of lie or leak of seriousity I lose My interest   Either you are committed and a 24/7 relation is your first priority now, or move on. I am not interested in empty words. If you do not intend to enter a 24/7 permanent relation within short time, don't waste My time   OBSERVE:   Since most of candidates does not have the fairest idea what 24/7 is in reality, I will put this clearly:   It is very different from sessions, weekends or anything exciting you ever dreamed of.   It is nothing like you imagine. It is not exciting at all. It does not give you any rush, nor kick, or fun.(If you made it reading this far, you most write in your answer to Me the words ''devotion'' with capitals.)   Slavery is about obeying, being ignored, serving and doing what you are told, not what you feel you would like to do   Does the list seem long to you? Hard/boring to read, even harder to fit into it? If you get bored to read it or any of the above does not suit you, it is a sign we are not a match.You are then welcome to continue your search and I wish you good luck   If you do find the text interesting, hang on and continue to read but bare in mind:   The below deion does not depictwho I am, it only analyzes the concept of slavery   What is Real Slavery, then?   Slavery, and I do mean Real slavery, has been around before recorded human history.   The ownership of people by other people, in its purest form - slavery - has existed for thousands of years throughout the evolution of civilized humanity.   There is a distinctive difference between CONSENSUAL slavery and non-consensual slavery.   Non-consensual slavery is ILLEGAL. I explicitly CONDEMN the practice of non- consensual, involuntary slavery. Non-consensual, or involuntary, slavery has been made illegal in every major country in the world.   So, if non-consensual, involuntary, slavery is illegal, than how can someone legally own a real slave? Oh, that is an excellent question.   Consensual slavery is not a myth; no more a myth than marriage (or a "civil union" in some cases) is or than being an employee is. Legally, you cannot use the word "slave"in any contractual agreement. It's a legal thing. However, the principals of slavery are perfectly legal as long as everyone involved is old enough to enter an agreement, capable of comprehending the magnitude and gravity of the agreement, and then fully agrees to enter the agreement.   From this point on, and everywhere else in this deion, wherever you see the words: slave, slavery or enslavement it is being referred to Consensual Slavery.   Now, while a slave very well may wind up in a monogamous relationship, owned by just one person who cherishes them as their prized property, showering their slave with love, affection, fidelity, devotion, consideration and only the best of care, where both owner and slave consider themselves as 'equal' partners, and while such an owner may consider the slave their property and while these slaves may consider themselves as property of their owner, I would not consider a relationship so described as “slavery”; no matter how brutal the S&M play may be. The above deion is generally referred to as a deep D/s relationship and not necessarily one of “slavery”.   Many people will argue that "slavery isn't real" and/or "you cannot have no choice slavery or no limits slavery (etcetera)" using the argument that: "because that would be non-consensual slavery - which is illegal".   The fact is (regardless of what any idiot you might have heard said) you most certainly are allowed to legally "give up" (or "waive") your rights. There is no law that says you are not allowed to voluntarily choose to disable any (or all) of your rights. People "give up" their rights all the time; sometimes (unfortunately) without even realizing what they are doing.  

A handful of journals on here discuss disability and sexuality. It shouldn't be challenging but it does make me think why should a disability hinder your true feelings or needs. Some interesting artists have popped up locally: Mari Katayama Very inspiring. For some of the creative appreciators in the fetish scene.

If your profile pic is your crotch or your butt, from any angle, clothed or not, lingerie or not, chastity or not, I will "Hide" your profile from view. I do not want to be introduced to a crotch or a butt. If your profile pic is a bathroom mirror nude body shot, I likely will not look further. Why would I want to get to know somebody with so little sense of aesthetics, so little willingness to put in a bit of effort, so little imagination? A profile avatar is your introduction, your first hand-shake, not a place to bare your all. Even on a kink site, we are people first. Kinky does not mean a total lack of class or style or courtesy. A profile avatar does not have to be a face pic, it doesn't even have to be you, it just has to show something interesting about you. A hobby, a pet, a silhouette of you against a sunset, a photo you took and love. If your body doesn't belong in a fashion magazine, don't expect it to be interesting to potential partners as a first introduction. Bodies become much more attractive for many women when we get to know the person first. We are looking for more than bodies. Show us a WHOLE PERSON. That goes for the body of the profile, too. Show us a whole person, not another horny porn-fed online wannabe without a clue. Show you know what you are talking about outside of porn, which is NOT educational. Be a real, interesting, knowledgable person. Or do please write to somebody else.

¡Hola! Publiqué una nueva entrada en mi blog... ¡y no es una receta de cocina! ¿a quién le gusta el jengibre? https://amaasht.art.blog/2022/10/05/figging I just made a new post in my blog... and isn't a recipe... who likes ginger? 😈😈😈❤❤❤https://amaasht.art.blog/2022/10/07/figging-english-version/

On Being Felled, Temporarily   I have been absent. Those of you who follow closely will have noticed the silence and drawn your own conclusions. The conclusion is this: my body staged one of its more dramatic rebellions in the form of a kidney infection serious enough to take me entirely off the board for the better part of two weeks. I do not get sick quietly or briefly, apparently. When I go down I go down with the full commitment I bring to everything, which I would find more admirable if it were not so thoroughly inconvenient. I am on the other side of it now, or near enough to be upright and writing, which I am choosing to count as a victory. While I was ill, someone broke into my home. I want to let that sit for a moment because I am still sitting with it myself. I was sick, my children were unsettled, and someone decided that was an acceptable time to violate the space where my family lives and take what did not belong to them. They took the children's gaming system, which in the grand accounting of what could have been lost is not the worst possible outcome, and I know this, and I have said this to myself many times. It does not make my children's faces easier to look at. The specific devastation of a preteen who has had something taken, not misplaced, not broken accidentally, but deliberately stolen from their home, from the place that is supposed to be safe, is its own particular kind of heartbreak to witness as a mother. They were crushed. I was furious on their behalf in the way that only a mother's fury operates, which is to say completely and with no available outlet. I handled it alone. As I handle everything. And this is where I find myself needing to say something I do not say easily, which is that my resilience, that quality I have always counted on, felt genuinely shaken this past week. Not broken. I want to be precise about that because I will not be imprecise about myself even when honesty is uncomfortable. Not broken. But shaken in the way that a foundation shakes when too many things hit it simultaneously, the illness and the violation and the children's hurt and the daily weight of a life I carry without assistance, all of it arriving at once while my body was already at its limit. I had hoped, by now, to be in a different chapter. I had hoped, genuinely and specifically, to be in conversations about sharing a home with someone actually prepared to show up for this life. Someone whose service was not theoretical, not a future intention, not a beautiful idea that dissolves on contact with the reality of what showing up actually requires. Someone who would have been here during a kidney infection that left me barely functional. Someone whose presence would have meant my children came home from school to a stable and managed household rather than to a mother running on empty and a space that had been violated. That person does not currently exist in my life, and the disappointment of that is not small. It is not something I can dress up into acceptance without first acknowledging that it is a genuine and specific grief. I built a vision. I know what I deserve. I know what this dynamic looks like when it is real and functional and inhabited by someone with actual capability and actual commitment. The gap between that knowledge and my current reality is something I feel most acutely on the weeks that ask the most of me. I am resilient. I will return to myself completely, as I always do. But this week the crown was heavy. I wanted to tell you that honestly, because this space has always been about the full truth of this life, not only its beauty.   More soon. I am still here. I am still unserved. I am still waiting and wanting. 

I'm a loving caring Domme seeking her sub for ltr.   You: available, devoted, educated, professional, well-off, well-rounded, Caucasian, attractive, publicly alpha, privately submissive, faithful, non-sissy, cuckold (non-negotiable). Need cuckoldress to pamper, obey, serve, worship, support, suffer for emotionally and physically. Ideal Situation: long-term relationship leading to marriage in TPE/Cuckold situation where cuckold is subjected to long-term sexual denial and chastity, reduced to slave-husband status in permanent service to me. You have to earn the status of husband before being a slave. I am not a slave master. Me: Petite 5'3" 120 lb sexy curves, African American Dom, the boss, business owner, attractive, caring considerate person but to my cuckold husband, I will keep always wanting more and begging to please me. Must be good looking, in shape and health conscious. I am all 3 of those so you must be too. I'm self employed and the boss. I live in New Jersey and I'm not looking nor will entertain long distance relationships. Must be in the NJ, Philly, or DE .  I'm willing to do some variations of the above in the way of physical appearance.  Although if you're extremely over weight or unhealthy, I'm not interested.  I dedicate a lot of time to keeping myself in shape and eating healthy foods.     I really want a person that I care about who needs to be dominated more than I need someone to treat cruelly just for the sake of being mean.  I prefer you be over 40, mature, health conscious, as I really want someone in great shape but at least be healthy and HWP.  The more successful you are, the more I want to dominate you. When you respond let me know about you, your past experiences or anything that's significant.  Messages with pics will be answered first, if I choose to answer at all.  One liners or "how may I serve you" will be erased.  hotwife, domme, poly, cuckold, cuckoldress, hot wife, domination

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.  

My goodness....     A severe health emergency took me away along with the vanilla job. but it gave me a chance to figure out what I need and want in my dom/master/lover...whatever you wish to fill that blank with. I can't wait to explore this site further and answer some messages so so so so many messages! please be patient as I go through them all. A little about me further       I have a special needs child more on that in private messages it is my intent to be the best parent I can be you will not see a photo of him or meet him until I feel comfortable with you and we are in the "Serious" zone of this I am taking this lifestyle seriously as we have a void that needs filling beyond sex with me.     I am submissive seeking a dom or master perhaps a couple to join as a family? The best way I can describe my needs and what I expect out of this life is a "1950s housewife" if I mess up I fully expect to be disciplined as a woman would have been back then. if I please you then I expect to be rewarded as a woman would have been back then. Not much else to add in this note except see you in the threads! 

It's fun how often men approach me online proclaiming that they're somehow "floored" by my intelligence, and that it's just sooo difficult to find intelligent women online, and of course, they recognize intelligence because of how extremely intelligent they are themselves.  They're looking for someone intelligent just like me, but obviously they don't actually want someone intelligent just like me since I am not flattered by such clownery.  But they sure do want me to be flattered by such a clown tactic.  There are a number of reasons it doesn't work: I know I'm intelligent and don't need the validation for it from random strangers online.  Just like these men don't seek validation for their intelligence from strangers online. When you're smart or funny or kind or any number of traits, you don't need to start conversations by announcing it to others and trying to convincing them that you have those traits; people recognize them for themselves - especially when those people are as "intelligent" as you're claiming they are. I am not some grand exception; there is a limitless number of intelligent women online, here and on every site.  It's easy to tell there are so many since they message me and we talk - they just aren't interested in reaching out to you.  You haven't flattered me by announcing how dumb other women are to you, but you've told me a lot about what you think of women and their intelligence, mine included. The men who expect a woman to be flattered by telling her how very exceptional she is for being intelligent are simply using it as a pickup line.  People who think I'm smart, and who want to engage with me as a result, simply engage with me, without waxing poetic about how smart I am and how smart they are and how they've been looking for someone smart just like me. It's a pick up line.  Talking about how smart they are and how smart they find me isn't even a conversation.  They're interested in me and they hope that by appealing to my intelligence rather than by being more blatant in their tactics, I'll be more receptive.  It's not flattering to me, but it is an unflattering look on these guys.  Genuine people engage genuinely.

Having spoken to you for a few weeks now, we understand each other. Our face to face meeting is at hand. I know what motivates your need to serve and please your man. In the vanilla world, you have confidence - or at least a veneer of confidence you maintain - but internally you feel yourself unsure, uncertain and that sometimes you just want to run away. I pick you up, dust you down with warm encouraging words, embracing you as you feel the strength of me and know I give you care and comfort. I know you. I know your thoughts, I know your experiences and I know what you need from me. I know your hard limits and the agreed safe signals.  We share a strong connection already. We have an emotional bond and an excitement between us as we plan to become a unity, planning our homelife and talking about our values of partnership and family together. I value your intelligence, your feminine elegance and your utter submission to me, only me. Your devotion, loyalty and eagerness to please whilst still maintaining your vanilla pride and confidence - I respect that and appreciate those qualities. You enjoy the guidance I give you, my mentoring, the boundaries that I give you and my affection.  Soon, you will arrive. We have discussed this many times. We know what to expect of each other, and yet, there is still that excitement. I hear footsteps approach my front door ... 

Life can be very funny. Some conversations start with uncertainty but over time blossom into connections you treasure, while others can feel very good at the start but then feel as if something is off. I have been talking with a couple for some time. They were primarily a cuckold couple, with a development path of increasingly rough, forceful sex, but they had had one encounter with a professional Dominant sometime back, when she was flogged and evidently reached subspace without knowing what actually happened. Let's just say they understand the psychology and physiology much better now that we have been talking. Lately, there have been emerging signs that "he" is a sadist. "She" thinks she is a masochist because she has a high pain threshold, but she isn't. She is a hedonist who loves her husband. Turns out all they wanted was someone, me(?), to turn up and flog her arse mercilessly, driving her to sobbing hysteria on her way to subspace (hopefully). He wants her tears, crying inconsolably as she is beaten. I am not judging - each to his own - but it became clear that what they want is not who I am - not even who I might be. So today I told them. I was met with an "OK. Thank you. Goodbye." and was then immediately cut off from contact. They shared the account (I think) - of course, it could all be a sham - but I think it was "him" who did the terminating. Sometimes right is right and wrong is simply wrong. I do feel better knowing I stayed true to me, but I do wonder where they go next. Back to that Dom in Spain?

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.  

5 Traits Dominants Are Looking For In a Submissive YMMV: It's important to note that all relationships and personal preferences vary greatly among individuals. However, here are five qualities most Dominants are looking for in a D/s relationship: Trustworthiness: Dominant individuals often value trust as a fundamental aspect of their relationship. They seek a submissive partner who is reliable, honest, and can be trusted to communicate openly and honestly about their desires, needs, and boundaries. Respect and obedience: Dominant individuals typically look for a submissive partner who respaspects their authority and is willing to obey their instructions within the agreed-upon boundaries of the relationship. This involves a mutual understanding and clear communication about limits and consent. Subservience: Dominant individuals may desire a submissive partner who enjoys fulfilling their needs and desires, and who derives pleasure from serving and pleasing them. This can manifest in various ways, such as performing acts of service, physical or emotional intimacy, or engaging in specific power dynamics. Communication and responsiveness: Dominant individuals value a submissive partner who is attentive and responsive to their guidance and instructions. They may appreciate a partner who actively communicates their thoughts, feelings, and desires, allowing for a better understanding of each other's needs and preferences. Vulnerability and surrender: Dominant individuals often seek a partner who is willing to surrender control and be vulnerable within the established boundaries of their dynamic. This can involve the submissive partner relinquishing decision-making authority to the dominant and finding pleasure or fulfillment in their submission. Finally, it's worth mentioning that any relationship involving dominance and submission should always be consensual, built on trust, and characterized by clear communication. Both partners should have a mutual understanding of boundaries, desires, and consent, and should prioritize each other's emotional and physical well-being. Consent and respect should always be the foundation of any healthy relationship dynamic. "Now you know, and knowing is half the battle." - G.I. Joe: A Real American Hero.  

About to lose control, he sighed in the affirmative when she asked if he needed to use the toilet.   His ankles were unclipped. One wrist was detached from his belt. Sheepishly he allowed himself to be guided to a powder room through the next door.   Completing his business, much relived, he emerged from the room.  He noticed a walk in closet transformed into a cell with a bed and chair. There, hung over the back of the chair were his clothes. It was late, she was no longer amused. Keys were thrust into his free hand. “get dressed Mr. Gimp!”   It was then he realized they had never exchanged names. He wasn’t even sure of the address. Sitting on the bed fully dressed with the keys and restraints on the chair, she took off the hood. A taxi was waiting outside to return him to the Hotel bar.   Her voluptuousness pressed against his face, she pulled him to his feet and kissed him passionately full on his trembling lips. “ Be gone Mr. Gimp!” She patted his butt and pushed him out the door to the waiting taxi. The driver was well paid for his discretion.

If you are applying for a postion with us you need to keep in mind that each communication is part of the interview. So when we tell you to answer the 8 questions that can be found below in one of our other journal entries make sure to completely answer them all.  As we go through the process make sure you read our messages and answer completely and thoroughly all what is asked of you. In the end we go back and evealuate all of this before deciding if we think you are a good fit and serious about this.    Here is how our process goes. 1. You reach out to us first with a message introducing yourself, someimes we reach out to females we may be interested in and introduce ourselves and ask them if interested to do the same, either way you should be thorough in your answer. 2. Unless you read our profile and journals and answered the 8 questions, extra consideration if you did, we tell you to read everything ans answer the 8 questions. 3.. We ask you if you have any questions 4. we give you an email address for you to reply to so we can send you the house rules  5. You will review the house rules and ask any questions in them and once done decide if you are able and willing to live by them. 6. We give you and advanced questionaire to fill out and we ask any questions about it we need to know more about 7. We allow you to ask questions you may still need to know before deciding if you want this with us. 8. We decide if we want to try it with you and you do the same we exchange phone numbers voice verify each other 9. set up trial period 10. you do trial period and we discuss with you at end of it whether we are all in agreement to offer the position.  11. You get training collar for 6-12 months 12. Once we feel you are trained you get permanent colar.

I will eventually complete my profile but as it requires approval for every change I will do it once when I know exactly what I want in it.   In the meantime I will add a bit about myself through this journal.  I am 57yr straight male living in Surrey. Personality is natural Dominant but not really in a heavy bondage way, I am more what you would call controlling. There is nothing wrong with those who like pain inflicted on them and I do feel strongly about HOH head of household where the Dominant partner will discipline there significant submissive partner been by some agreed form of punishment. What I am trying to get across is that when needed I can deliver a spanking but it is not something I do to gain any form of pleasure. If anything I would much rather decide what one wears for me especially if we going out. One thing for sure I do appreciate lovely bright red nails For now I am here just to make friends and chat, if we get along over a period them we can take it from there. I will add some updates again soon, as the photo issue I will add to a message if and when we chat, once I have myself organised and update my profile I will attach them there but for the time been they can come with messages.

:'( :"""( :"( :""(  wish i had someone to be here care ease my pain a little comfort hold me something. so hurting down used cheated on lied to hurt never good enough so much bad in life and hurt

Master's WritingsFoundations: The Ethics of SadismThe ethics surrounding sadomasochistic play are perhaps among the most important in all of the BDSM community. I constantly see posts from masochists searching for a "Real Sadist", someone who knows what they are doing and they can trust. And why shouldn’t they, in this realm, we are often talking about genuine pain and the potential for real harm. Yet I continue to see those who call themself by the title, who operate without a code and believe that sadism is nothing more than a license to hurt another person. Thus, the need for a code and identify the ethics behind the title.Up-front, any attempt to identify ethics must include basic standards such as:     Both parties being of minimum legal age     Both parties being competent to legally consent     All physical and mental health considerations of both parties have been made known     The nature, depth and limits on the activities have been previously agreed to by both parties     Consent of the bottom has been given to the activities discussed without any form of duress, coercion, manipulation or barter     and finally, that safewords or some form of safeguard communication is in place that stop or pause play as necessary Beyond the basics, however, I believe that the ethics of sadism must go beyond that. It must include a dedication to perfecting one's skills and knowledge of the craft long before you ever raise a cane, a commitment to know your bottom to a depth beyond normal play so that you possess a clear understanding of what they want and why they want it and an absolute mandate that the Sadist never brings their outside emotions, such as anger or stress, into a scene (if you are made at the world, no bottom should pay for that). Additionally, it must also include a dedication to maintain a constant awareness of a bottom's capacities throughout any scene.But the real point of the ethics of Sadism lies in the commitment to maintaining all of these beliefs and values during the heart of a scene. It is easy to be ethical before a scene begins, but as the tempo rises, as the pain threshold lies within reach, being ethically strong enough to not get carried away in the thrill and glory of the moment is an ever present challenge. It is there, in that moment when a Sadist must lean into their ethics and remember their responsibility for a bottom's safety, the commitments you made about the scope play, and the dedication to not get sloppy with either technique or intention. In the heat of the moment, you walk the fine line between pleasure and pain, ecstasy and injury, but responsibility requires a strong ethical core to keep your bottom safe and deliver wisely on the gift of the experience you deliver.For me it is the connection I make during play, either physical, as in touch, or verbal, as in checkups, communication and listening. Connection helps remind me my bottom is a person. A person who has placed their body and experiences in my hands. It humbles me and reminds me that without ethics, I am no better than a monster with a whip. It is the ethics of Sadism that keeps me human and allows me to call myself a sadist with a clear conscience. 

The M/s lifestyle is an extreme form of structured relationship, and what makes it powerful is that it’s built on choice and consent. The surrender of power by the slave and the assumption of responsibility by the Master isn’t casual—it’s intentional, serious, and often lifelong. At its best, it creates a dynamic where both roles are deeply fulfilled: the Master gains purpose through leadership, structure, and control, while the slave gains purpose through service, clarity, and the comfort of being fully owned.   What stands out to me is that it magnifies truths about human connection that already exist in all relationships: people crave trust, guidance, being seen, and being valued. M/s strips away the pretense and makes those elements explicit, codified in rules, rituals, and expectations. It’s not easy—because maintaining authority and surrender 24/7 in a modern world takes enormous honesty, discipline, and commitment. But when it works, it creates a bond few other dynamics can match, one that is both practical and profoundly emotional.

 I suppose I need to update this along with my profile. As I said in my new profile, I am currently living in Virginia and owned as part of a household so I’m no longer looking. I only come here occasionally to chat with a few people I’ve come to know. A lot changed for me at the end of last year when I moved here. This is only the second ownership situation I’ve ever been in. I have a scattered history with the couple who now own me so they aren’t a complete unknown but much of what is expected of me is very new. I am their new alpha and expected to manage the general household as well as some aspects of others that are brought in, either short term or long term. Their prior long-term slave left the household last month and they have taken on a new one, at least on a trial basis. I’m not sure if she’ll last but the mistress has faith in her becoming a permanent part of the household so time will tell I guess. For those who were curious about my tech gig work, I took a couple months off and I’m starting some new work next month. It’ll be tricky balancing that with my household duties so I’m not putting much on my plate at first. On the plus side, since I don’t have any expenses here, all of what I take in can go toward investing my future. I guess that’ll be yet another new situation for me.. lol        

Smart, successful, strong and structured.  I wasn't born this way, these attributes were my choice.  As such I don't overlook or yield these principles to anyone.  If these are not qualities that you admire in grown men please move on.   I'm straight forward and I expect the same.  If picture swaps, video calls, or personal meetings are a hard line for you then I am not the one.  If you get together with me you will be giving up the PT&A.  If that's not an issue keep going.  I may be good conversation and a well of knowledge, but I am here to find another partner, not a chill buddy.  I work hard and need an outlet.  I don't intend for you or this site to consume me or my time.  This simply means that I may not be on as often as someone with a lot of extra time on his hands.  I have many differing likes, yearnings, ambitions, and needs to be satisfied.  I'm interested in hearing your's.   J²

The Journal has returned which was sorely missed for so long.  It now has so many conditions that are prespective viewed it's difficult to know what is allowed as non offensive. Given that this in on the edge of societal norms creating a list of what is and isn't allowed without defined definitions allows for open interpertations by all. Remember that you can't please everyone and anyone can be offended by any posting they chose to be.  As an example these items: Othering ~  This entire Life Style choice can be viewed as othering how could anyone not be offended if it was not their definition. Culturally insensitive or hurtful ~ What is culturally insensitive "C I" when spoken from one race to another is not when spoken to the as race.  Take the use of the N word. Anyone uses it to address a person of color when they are not and it is C I  and even viewed as racist. Yet when spoken between peoples in that race to another it is allowed. So the definition applies to the readers ideas and ideals which those who post have no idea of. The same applies to hurtful tell me what every reader thinks is hurtful and I can post in a way to not be. Of course I then lose any ability to express any thoughts as they have to be muted to what can be determined as hurtful. Again another eye of the beholder issue. Criticism of other users or lists of "Bad" users. ~  What if one of these Bad users is engaging in exactly what is prohibited in posting here.  How do you warn others if not in a post with the offending message included. You might want to ask these questions of the Web Master and see what the reply is. Of course you might well be unable to post it to your journal.     

I had a long chat with an old friend of mine who is a seasoned Dom.  Very well known up north. Mentioned my most recent chat with a submissive man with a "tight balloon knot" was frustrating. Both of us had never heard the phrase but clearly a used term in the lifestyle. It was brought to my attention that submissive men go through alot of different relationships because even though they are submissive they want things a certain way. A little frustrated as I took their needs seriously but clearly they were not prepared for someone like me who was making a checklist of what they actually need from me. My family from the lifestyle did appreciate I am trying to be careful as you don't really know what other hidden knots a person has but I was trying my hardest to take things slow but seriously. In all fairness their was too much talk about the needs of his bum hole and less about my own bits so ladies enjoy your fish and chips with that one. C

Well life is different. After 12 years of being owned almost 1 year being Free and looking to step foot back into things again. I am looking to start with a play partner or so and work my way up. Vetting will be a must. I am not going to just drop to my knees at first meeting we need to get to know boundaries limits likes dislikes each other etc. Play parties with local hosts and munches can and will be enjoyed. why things failed from my perspective. Rose colored glasses came off when I was the one putting 99% of the effort into the relationship. I stayed faithful throughout but he cheated. He stopped putting effort in first as a dom then as a partner yet still married him. I was trying to hold onto the spark we had in the begining and the man I saw so full of potential. I cooked I cleaned I provided I got forgotten. No birthday christmas mothers day nothing. I had to on many occasions buy my own presents. Even when he picked them I then had to pay for them (we were both working) I made his dreams come true he wanted to own this kind of vehicle sure thing. a motorcycle here got ya set up for one. Hey you need a motorcycle club to join I networked and found one that I thought he would mesh with. I got the day after christmas chocolate covered cherries on clearance and the only kind i didnt like (theres 2 major kinds i didnt want the creme ones) I wanted to be touched loved fucked beaten and i got ehh nothing. I made him a little jealous by going to a kink party without and he came the next one but the flogging just didnt have his heart in it and i could tell. My platonic play partner did a better job than my spouse. He had Poly Pride tattoeed on his person so I asked to find a girlfriend and he blew his stack at me screaming calling me all sorts of names and even by his ex wifes name. Gaslight me about his sexuality that he had told me years ago he was ace (nope never said that) Tried to gaslight me on that argument and broke some of my boundaries that night. I asked him to go to therapy and find couples therapy. He went a couple times then quit. I tried to hold on hope until my kid said mom your not happy dont wait for me to graduate go be happy. So Now thats what I am.  

Messy Little Piggy  Had the best time today rolling around in the bath in piss and custard. Oinking as I poured it all over my head, down over my snout and finishing by rubbing it all over my tits and pussy. Piggy piss play and sploshing, yum, my favourite. What food do you like to wallow and oink in?

the dark god & goddess: archangel michael and sophia, AKA the daddy dominant and little girl Vibe. through algorithmic divination—how spirit uses music and tech for ascension vibes     the shuffle algorithm divination is so immaculate today. all started out with the synergy of the dark guy and the dark guy with WHITE LIGHTS(spirit changes it to lights to me instead of lies because it's shining light on the black areas of life which lies are dark too) AND BLACK BEACHES summer bummer.   "It's never too late to be who you wanna be (swimmin' in my safe)   To say what you wanna say (tattoo on my face, swimmin' in my safe)   And it's never too late to leave if you wanna leave (better not)   Or to stay if you wanna stay, "   "Hip-hop in the summer (what? What? What?)   Don't be a bummer, babe (what? What? Yeah?)"   i try lana but just like a few days ago i am a rock bottom bummer at times but that's why we're dark you and i. we go there but come back.   this bit requires nuance that a lot of people don't have. you can read this as a bad characteristic..but if you are able to again hold the line be sovereign and fully let go and go back to yourself, this is literally just giving into SAILOR VENUS LOVE ME CHAIN, LOVE AND BEAUTY SHOCK, ROLLING HEART VIBRATION, WINK CHAIN SWORD SHIT...it's just an intense way of loving and fighting for girlies.   it's why i say coming in love and peace viciously and violently. the love and peace is there but it's done in an intense and assertive and if need be aggressive nature. world and other people's choice.   what happens when these two forces unite?   "What? (What? They been at it, check it out) huh? (we been out here, yeah)   Slide inside it, diddy boppin', milly rockin' (what? What? Whoo!)   She just might become my lover for real (yeah that's girl, for real, for real)   I might fuck with her all summer for real (for real, for real)   They better not holler if I cuff her for real (for real, for real)   Niggas better run for cover for real   Goin' bell how I feel, close the deal, pop a seal   Take the whip, two pills on the lips on the real (for real, for real)   what's the difference between the love and light and the dark creator energy?"   when these songs or energies show up the love and light tribe go ew toxic scary needs to transmute redirect avoid pray away eject.   the dark crowd say, i have that in me. namaste. i see it in you. these lyrics aren't offensive or mean, they are admitting how crazy and overwhelming things are at times. and not only do i namaste it.   "White lies and black beaches, miles in between us   Is this love or lust or some game on repeat? It's like makin' me crazy   Tell me, "have patience", baby, I need this   White lines and black beaches   White lies and black beaches and blood-red sangrias   We traveled for weeks, just to escape your demons   But you've got your reasons in makin' me crazy   But you've got your reasons, white lights and black beaches   High tops in the summer (top out, hop out, hop out)   Don't be a bummer, babe (top out, hop out, hop out)   Don't be a bummer (top out, hop out, hop out)   Don't be a bummer"   jump the fuck in let's go for a fucking ride together. keep your shit tight i keep my shit tight and let's jump with the parachute into it head first.   "Not even they can stop me now   Boy, I'll be flying overhead   Their heavy words can't bring me down   Boy, I've been raised from the dead"   highlighted with aliana's unfold song....the problem with urban flora is the entire album is a insight into this type of woman. the mermaid the siren, the dark goddess, the oshun, the yemoja(that's how it comes to me spelling wise naturally and i know it's not 'right' ), and starseed wise on a galactic wise the dark beings from sirius lemuria and other water places. the project for me is to audio note play by play the album because i can't honor the water roots in text. but that's going to be a big undertaking....to be noted.   but this is what happens when the chaotic dark man and woman unite. again 3d puts this as boyfriend and girlfriend, husband and wife...and while that sustainability provides the most continual long term optimal..5d can have you unfold in a second, in a moment, in a few days, in a few weeks..just by an exchange. and opening up to fully receive that in the same short term capacity with full abandon without titles allows a higher elevation with letting go of the need to control how long how strong how exactly it goes.     "Cover my thoughts in gold   I'm your flower, watch me unfold   My vulnerability, letting you consume me   The parts of me that eyes can't see   The glowing underneath   Picking off the petals   I'll let you if you're gentle   Hey, watch me unfold   Watch me unfold   Watch me unfold   Hey, watch me unfold   Watch me unfold   Watch me   Hey, he says that I'm glowing   Hey, He says that I'm glowing   This kind of love we can't control   The art of touch, I am covered in gold   I know that you feel me now   No I'm never going down   The parts of me buried underneath   The glowing, don you see?   I know that you feel me now   No I'm never going down   Hey   Hey   Hey, watch me unfold   Watch me unfold   Watch me unfold   Hey, watch me unfold   Watch me unfold   Watch me   Hey, he says that I'm glowing   Hey, He says that I'm glowing   The kind of love we can't control   The kind of love we can't control   The kind of love we can't control   The kind of love we can't control   The kind of love we can't control   This kind of love we can't control   Love, love   We can't control   The kind of love   We can't control   This kind of love we can't control   The love we can't control"   the woman goes through the brooklyn baby. i feel i literally squeezed all the seeds out of that and previous posts can be referenced for the meaning behind that.   summary bit here.   We talked about how "Brooklyn Baby" by Lana Del Rey represents the swan song not just for the Sophia energy but for Michael in the 3D—the energy that lives between spiritual masculinity and

Forced Fem and Humiliation might not be so bad after all   A couple of years ago my Master thought up a new way to humiliate me when he bought a little frilly French maids costume online. He plan was initially to make me wear it while I did chores around the house. He wasn't in to TVs or sissies he just thought it would amuse him to see me walk to the end of the garden to put bags of rubbish in the bin especially as the garden faced a busy street. He also found it funny to lock the door behind me so I would spend a while cowering outside trying not to be seen before he opened the door again. Don't worry the humiliation wasn't a bad thing it could just get a little cold out there sometimes. He also used to make me wear it when his friends visited to serve them drinks. It was on one of those visits with Masters friend constantly putting his hand up my skirt (sanctioned by Master) that the subject of it being cold outside came up. The friend suggested only the dress wasn't enough I should at least have proper underwear and at least 1 pair of stockings. Master agreed and one day I came home to the additions to my new outfit sitting on the table. I was instructed to go and try them on. After a few struggles with the stockings I came out to show Master. He approved and showed me how much by ensuring that my new knickers I had only had for 10 minutes needed to go into the wash. Now when I did chores I was properly dressed and Masters friends seem to like it too. I liked it too.  I was never a sissy but I looked forward to dressing up, even running to the bins never seemed so bad. I confess I have dressed up sometimes since, and would like someone who likes it to push me  bit more.

A woman's orgasm is her glorious gift to him. When she focuses upon delivering it to and for him, she acknowledges her passion to unhesitatingly submit her humble bliss unto him, without regard to her trembling spasms of joy. She conveys that part of herself to him intimately and fully, ignoring her own shuddering waves of stimulation. <<"'Take and enjoy what you have aroused in me. It is yours.'" >> She surrenders her pleasure unconditionally for him to bathe in her euphoria. He is the true beneficiary. She is the incidental receptacle, simultaniously the vessel of and conduit to his satisfaction. This is love. Your pleasure is my pleasure. N'est ce pas?

Some things to think about written by Ms Rika (she writes books about femdom and the power dynamics). I don't always agree with her 100% but I enjoy her thought provoking article. Rika thoughts   Ms_Rika SOOO many conflated, fantasy-driven thoughts in one place! FLR does not mean femdom. They are different things. They MAY coincide...often times they do...but they do not necessarily have to go together. If you mean Femdom, say Femdom. Marriage is an institution that is legal, often religious, and personal - and completely independent of power dynamics. You can layer a power dynamic on ANY type of relationship, "Spouse" is just one of them. The reason to marry someone is the same whether there is a power dynamic or not and it's not a power dynamic decision. Therefore, the reasons a marriage with a power dynamic dissolves are the same as the reasons one without a power dynamic dissolves. Femdom (and FLR) does not equate to cuckolding. Cuckolding relates to cuckolding. You can be a cuckold and NOT be a Femdom relationship (or an FLR, for that matter). Sometimes cuckolding is done within a relationship - sometimes it's not. Often the man doesn't know (technically, the man doesn't know). While it is possible that some power dynamics limit sexual interaction between the couple, not all do - and power dynamics certainly DO NOT imply a reduction in sexual activity. Sexless marriages are due to people whose libidos drift - or who no longer are interested in their spouse sexually. It has nothing to do with power dynamics

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

Fall and Winter 2021 update. Lisa's desires for younger/youthful gurls: "If you are a younger Domme Gurl; whom would like an older sub/slave woman, and you would like to take that extra Control over her. Your using and humiliating her lifestyle to your pleasure; then please read on further. And, what could be more humiliating for an older woman when she kneels incestuously before someone young enough to be her daughter or granddaughter?" A lovely lady lesbian, lecherous, lascivious, seeking similar, saucy, sexy, sophisticated, stylish, social, slender, smooth, similar senioress sisters. update information........Lisa and Brenda now live here together as two wonderful lovingly respectful, honestly honorable ladies from another gender. We so enjoy the compatibility of each other, our integrity, character, honesty, candor with each other---appreciation it is, totally. The feeling of being subjugated to another in all aspects of my daily life--- is an unfilled dream of so many of us gurls. Lisa is now finally retired, and she would lose total Control if someone was "in charge" of her breasts constantly, for they are the most sensitive part of her whole body !!! Sex, is rapidly moving to the back burner so to speak---due to these advancing years!

Thank you for reading And thank you for your time I promise not to waste yours I tend to value mine Poetry’s enticing Prose can add a spark Pretty sets of words betray what's in their author’s heart Art is also obfuscated fleeting and opaque Maybe not the ideal way to tell of what I'm made Doubtless you'll have questions those who enjoy this jest Feel free to message me and get them off your chest Keep in mind that I don't know you and that you don't yet own me We owe one another mutual courtesy  

  Your Negotiation Means Nothing If the Results Were Forged [CW: STI non-disclosure, predatory behavior, legal consequences, community safety] Let me paint you a picture. Someone gets a positive result. Instead of disclosing instead of doing the one thing that consent absolutely requires they go shopping. They find a friend. They swap names on paperwork. They screenshot someone else's results. They walk into your negotiation with fabricated proof and a smile, and everything you agreed to was built on a lie. Your yes was never real. You consented to a fiction. And now you're living with the consequences. This isn't just a community problem. It is a crime. And I want the people doing this to understand exactly what they're walking into because the law in these states doesn't mess around. FLORIDA Under Florida Statute §384.24, you don't even have to transmit anything. Knowingly having an infection, being informed you can transmit it, and sleeping with someone without disclosure is already the crime. Non-disclosure of most STIs is a First Degree Misdemeanor. Non-disclosure of HIV is a Third Degree Felony up to 5 years. A repeat offense escalates to a First Degree Felony. The statute covers gonorrhea, chlamydia, syphilis, herpes, and HIV. Fabricating test results to obtain that consent? That's fraud layered on top of the underlying charge. GEORGIA Under Georgia Code 16-5-60, there are criminal penalties for reckless conduct involving HIV and hepatitis transmission. Prosecutors in Georgia are aggressive about pursuing charges against those who fail to disclose their status to sexual partners. And for anything not specifically named in the statute syphilis, herpes, anything else a person can still face assault charges. TENNESSEE Criminal exposure to HIV in Tennessee is a Class C Felony that is three to fifteen years in prison and up to $10,000 in fines. Tennessee covers HIV, Hepatitis B, and Hepatitis C specifically under criminal exposure law. The burden falls on the defendant to prove disclosure happened, and proving disclosure is notoriously difficult because there is rarely documentation so it often comes down to whose word gets believed in front of a jury. ALABAMA Alabama's communicable disease exposure statute casts a wide net "contact" is broadly undefined, meaning a whole range of behaviors can be criminalized, and neither intent to transmit nor actual transmission is required for prosecution. Alabama has also pursued HIV exposure cases under general criminal law, including attempted murder charges where intent can be established. MISSISSIPPI Mississippi's felony exposure statute covers HIV, Hepatitis B, and Hepatitis C. Exposure without disclosure can result in felony charges. This is not a state where you want to test those limits. SOUTH CAROLINA South Carolina carries explicit criminal exposure statutes covering HIV, Hepatitis B, and Hepatitis C both misdemeanor and felony tiers depending on the circumstances and the infection involved. LOUISIANA Louisiana has been actively expanding its reach. Intentional exposure to incurable STIs without disclosure has been the subject of legislation targeting up to 10 years in prison and $5,000 in fines. Syphilis and herpes both incurable fall squarely in that conversation. And then there's civil court which doesn't need a criminal conviction to destroy you. If a partner knowingly infaspects you, you can file civil battery or negligence claims. Intentional, unconsented, harmful contact raises the damages recovered and can run alongside criminal charges simultaneously. A fabricated test result isn't a defense it's evidence of premeditation. A civil attorney will use it to light you on fire. Now let's talk about the test swapping specifically. Presenting falsified medical documentation to obtain sexual consent is fraud. Full stop. It potentially constitutes identity fraud, forgery, and fraud to obtain consent all separate charges that can stack on top of whatever STI exposure statute applies. You handed someone else's results to your partner. That's a paper trail. That's a witness. That's a case. What this means for all of us in this community We build our entire framework on the quality of the information exchanged during negotiation. One lie poisons the whole structure. Informed consent isn't informed if the information is fake. Ask for documentation. Ask about the lab. Ask about the date. Cross reference the details. If someone treats those questions like an insult if they get hostile, evasive, or suddenly defensive about you wanting to verify what they've handed you that reaction is data. Use it. Protect yourself. Know your rights. And if something has already happened to you talk to someone who can help you understand your options. You have them. Legal References Florida Fla. Stat. 384.24 Unlawful Sexual Intercourse / STI Non-Disclosure Florida Fla. Stat. 384.34 Penalties for STI-related violations Georgia Ga. Code Ann. 16-5-60 Reckless Conduct / HIV & Hepatitis Exposure Tennessee Tenn. Code Ann. 39-13-109 Criminal Exposure to HIV, HBV, HCV (Class C Felony) Alabama Ala. Code 22-11A-21 Communicable Disease Exposure Statute Mississippi Miss. Code Ann. 97-27-14 — Felony Exposure (HIV, HBV, HCV) South Carolina S.C. Code Ann. 44-29-145 — Criminal Sexual Conduct with STI Non-Disclosure Louisiana La. R.S. 14:43.5 — Intentional Exposure to AIDS Virus; pending expansion legislation Civil Liability Negligence & Battery claims available in all 50 states; no criminal conviction required https://www.nolo.com/legal-encyclopedia/sexually-transmitted-diseases-stds-lawsuits.html https://www.hivlawandpolicy.org/state-profiles/south-carolina https://www.kevinkuliklaw.com/is-std-transmission-a-criminal-offense-in-florida/ https://www.legalmatch.com/law-library/article/liability-for-transmitting-a-sexually-transmitted-disease.html https://www.criminaldefenselawyer.com/resources/transmitting-std-florida.htm https://www.criminaldefenselawyer.com/resources/transmitting-std-north-carolina.htm  

Old profile removed July 6, 2025 All initial emails with less than three sentences, or missing capitalization and punctuation, are deleted and the sender blocked. Yes, I know Collarspace's filters remove some punctuation. That's not what I am talking about. Three sentences, not one long run-on sentence.   I am a switch. I have not bottomed or submitted since 2016, but if you cannot handle your dominant or top taking the bottom side I am not the one for you. I am NOT looking for a dominant or top, hence identifying my profile as a domme. I do not reply to dominants or tops looking to dominate or top me.   I am polyamorous. I live with my wife Raine. She is aware of this profile and what I am looking for. She and I are play partners working back toward a power exchange that ended during the worst of the isolation because of COVID.   I am not looking for an Ms relationship or an Op relationship. If you self identify as a slave we are not compatible. I am not a female supremacist and I do not practice TPE.   If you are younger than 25 please do not apply.   What I AM looking for are local play partners, lovers, and or submissives. Local means in or around San Antonio. I am not looking for someone to relocate, move in with me, or play with me while they are visiting San Antonio.   My ideal submissive is service oriented and open to a variety of play styles and techniques, and open to trying new things. My ideal play partner has interest in multiple kinds of play and enjoys intense play and receiving pain.   Giving cunnilingus is a soft limit. Receiving cunnilingus is not high on my priorities list, although it can be lovely. I LOVE dildo play and fisting. I have reservations about strap-on harnesses.   If you are not in the San Antonio, TX area regularly, don't contact me as a potential submissive or play partner. I don't "play" online and I have no interest in choreographing elaborate scenes for you to act out on webcam to fulfill your fetishes. I am living my flesh life and I don't have time for an online life. Friendship and conversation are welcome, but no leading questions trying to get me to provide fap fodder.   My dance card is sometimes (over)full but that's the way I like it. There IS room in my life for a full time submissive should I come across one who is compatible with me.   The remainder of my profile remains intact from before:   I find minds sexy more often than I find bodies sexy, though I can certainly appreciate a sexy body! I love intelligence and learning, enjoy teaching what I know and learning from others, be they friend, lover, submissive, Dominant, switch, or myriad role identities.   I'm open to finding kinky friends who can hang out at home with or without play, play partners who share my interests, lovers, or submissives. Or all of the above. A poly pansexual service oriented submissive who likes edgy as well as everyday play, can take intense pain and get satisfaction from it, and wants to serve a BBW Domme would be great. ~Santa, here's my list, no, I'm not holding my breath.~   Micro e-mails are a pet peeve of mine. Write an e-mail with at least three sentences. But don't send me a novella either - it takes getting to know someone before I'm motivated to read something overly long. One or two paragraphs is great. You could tell me what you liked about my profile, why you are writing (friendship, submission, playing, learning?), tell me a little bit about yourself.   I'm looking for a submissive that gets fulfillment from both service and play. I'd like to find one whose mind and body both attract me. I want to find a submissive and/or play partner who loves to explore, who loves lots of kinds of play, who finds intensity and connection sexy and hot and gets a lot from the connection in a scene not just what type of play is being done. I want to find someone who is up for light spanking and tickle play one day, and a wicked caning another, who can handle flames licking across their skin and delight in it just as much as a tongue's caress. I want someone who can play light and silly as well as deep and intense, who can enjoy something as mundane as a spanking while still being open to trying hot, sexy, edgy, rough shit.   But it's not all about play. I want a submissive who gets along well with me, who is a delightful conversational partner, who is intelligent and sometimes witty. I would love to find a submissive who helps me with my flaws and supports me in my own goals as much as they work to improve themselves and make me proud they are mine, to be in my service. I want a submissive who is willing to help out, whether it is helping me fold laundry and dry dishes or brainstorming a website design. Gimme gimme! A submissive who loves to learn! A submissive who loves to serve! A submissive who loves to play! A submissive who loves letting go of control! A submissive who is self aware, practices self honesty, and communicates clearly! I'm not interested in someone whose ONLY interaction with me is for BDSM, or for play, or for sex. I want to find someone who can become a part of my life, who feels comfortable joining me for vanilla hangout time, sexy snuggle time, as well as kinky dress up and play time.   But that doesn't fully describe it either. I want to find someone who feels that submission is about more than doing chores or taking a good beating. Where is that mind hiding that WANTS to be told to do something disagreeable, because submitting is sometimes about doing what you DON'T like. A submissive who knows saying "I don't like that" is a way of giving me more control. That it doesn't mean I won't do it any more, it just means when I do it I will do it DELIBERATELY!! Are you out there, craving someone who isn't afraid to deny the things you like just to watch you squirm and make you beg for them? Where is the submissive who loves high protocol as well as casual time? Where is the submissive who can make offering to take my plate into the kitchen touch my heart? Where is the submissive who isn't ashamed to kiss my feet in front of friends, who wants to be the best they can be so that I can be proud to own them? Are you out there, unready to give everything to a stranger, but wanting to let go and give up control, incrementally, as trust develops?   Read my journal entries to learn a bit about me. This is long already, so I won't start trying to describe who I am, but if you'd like to know, ask and I'll probably answer.

This is really difficult. And I don't mean being cute or pretty. I'm talking about trying to find somebody. I mean I kind of wanted a female, a woman, but I'm realizing, what would a woman want to do with me? I mean, unless she saw our relationship as some kind of lesbian relationship. But then why invest the time with me? Just get a woman. It isn't like I've been cuckhold now I'm just watching my last relationship have sex with men and we go and get our hair done together. That's a silly dumb fantasy. I don't really expect that ever. So it becomes kind of complicated. Being with a guy, I've been there. It never really works out. Most guys really have no idea. And I don't mean that in a mean way. And yes I've tried, thinking OK I'll be with a guy he can just go be a guy I'll be the girl I'll take care of everything that I need to to be cute and pretty. But oddly enough, it never seems to work out that way. I am submissive and really truly just want to explore more of a relationship as a submissive and feminine. I've done all the hard work myself. I am on estrogen and other feminizing pharmaceuticals. I've actually been surgically castrated, yes, have no balls. But yet I still can't find someone. And yet I still also feel more male than female. Is there really a woman out there that actually enjoys the art of emasculation? And also possibly feminization. I remember a long time ago I was at a bar out here in California, called the Oxwood Inn (I think that was it) and I saw a cute couple. a black woman, clearly the dominant, and a effeminate partner. I started a conversation with her, the dominant, basically asking about their relationship, and if she was together with her. I was quickly explained that yes, they do live together. She was working to turn him into a her in every way. This honestly fascinated me so much so that I still kind of looking for that same relationship. Now I'm sure there are men out there that might be able to do this? I've even gone so far as wondered if possibly I could pay somebody. Make some sort of long-term agreement because I'm sure this isn't gonna happen in a month or three months I would venture to say for complete transition, it's got to be at least a year? But then again what do I know? 

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.

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

Hi all, I know hardly anybody reads these but here goes. I'm an old biker, still ride. I smoke and drink, and if that puts you off then there isn't much point in reading further, cos I'm not changing in any hurry. I'm recently retired and have lots of free time on my hands. After 50 years of working it means I am getting bored a lot. So I'm looking for ways to make life more interesting. Any suggestions considered. Although I'm 67 now I'm still young at heart. 6'2", 12st, shaved head and long beard, usually dyed a daft colour. Currently green and blue. If anything about me intersts you feel free to message. Suggestions and questions welcome. Manners essential. If you managed to read this far, well done. 

To be a good master in BDSM, consider the following key qualities: byanthonyp16562M Dom To be a good master in BDSM, consider the following key qualities: Respect and Trust: True dominance is built on respect and trust, earned through authenticity and understanding. Responsibility: A good master takes responsibility for their submissive's happiness and satisfaction, putting their needs before their own. Communication: Effective communication is essential; a good master listens to their submissive and guides them into a space where they feel their control and authority. Empathy: Understanding and empathizing with the submissive's needs is crucial for a health

A second story I wrote for a friend after she told me the 1st was too sweet. . . The Visit The time leading to this moment had been unbearable but now at last the bell was  ringing, the waiting was over. The woman walked quickly along the hall and opened the door to see a man standing there."Have you got rid of them?""Yes." she replies."Get me a drink," he says and waits for her to turn away from the doorway and walk down the hall before entering.To her back he says, "are you wearing what I asked for?""Yes." The woman answers and goes to pour whiskey into a glass. The man, standing by the door, watches her prepare the drink then walks into the living room and looks around with a smile on his face."Here." The woman hands him the glass and the man takes something from his pocket and throws it at her."Put this on." The thin strip of black cloth falls at her feet and as she bends down to pick it up her short skirt rises up her leg and exposes stocking tops and the pale skin of inner thigh. She holds it not quite sure of its purpose."Over your eyes." The man snaps, "and be quick."The woman feels fear swell inside her as she looks at the material held between her hands."Do it." There is no warmth, nor for that matter any feeling at all, in the man's voice. When she as tied the cloth she feels ungentle fingers test the band and then a hand grabs her and, stumbling, she is led to her settee and pushed down onto it. She presses her knees together and hugs herself to try to stop the tremors that suddenly take hold of her. She feels more than hears him walk away then a metallic click followed by something plastic falling on the floor.She jumps as the music centre bursts to life playing something loud and frantic that she does not know. The floor is vibrating with the heavy thud of the base and she is surprised when hands grab and pull her to her feet.She keeps repeating in her head, don't show fear, this will be over soon, relax, but she has to choke back a scream as strong fingers crush her breast through her clothes."Now we can play without undue notice." The man says and rips apart her short top and sends buttons flying over the carpet.Instinctively she covers herself with crossed arms. The man laughs and forces his hand up her skirt and between her legs.She clenches her teeth and holds her head still and tries not to show how she feels so he will not get any further excitement from her. She feels him fumble with the zip at her hip and the skirt fall to the floor.He steps back and looks at the woman before him. She is in good shape and he savours the thought of the time to come. The black bra supports rounded breasts which show over the thin lace. A flat stomach and trim hips meet his approval as too do the thin narrow panties which show a neatly trimmed triangle of fair hair. He turns her around and grabbing material pulls it sharply up between her legs.He barely hears her g but his erection grows as her hands fly down to ease the pain in her crotch. In the blackness of the woman's head see tenses for the next pain but none comes and she has to relax her muscles then shivers with the thought of this is what he is waiting for.The time in the dark void passes without any way to measure and the pounding music seems to have no beginning or end but repeats the same mind numbing beat.She wants to say something, anything, to the man to make him not hurt her but no words come to her and she waits. She had thought the waiting, after the phone call, was going to drive her insane. With the way he was dealing with the evening she realised that he had known it would do. Oh Christ why did I keep those photos? Why didn't I install that burglar alarm when I thought about it? She is shocked back to reality as hands grab her and force her to walk blindly. "What do you want?The words sound pathetic even as she speak them and she hopes he does not hear her weakness over the music. Her legs hit something and her hands reach out letting her know she is up against the settee back. The man says in her ear, "Take off your bra."She reaches back and unclips the hooks and tries to take it off without showing her fear. The man moves to kneel facing her, on the settee, and takes both breasts in his hands and gently caresses them.The woman breaths hard and thinks about her child sleeping safely at her friends home and hopes her body will not respond. She feels wetness on her breast and the familiar sensation as her nipples expand.The man smiles and rolls flesh between thumb and finger watching as small bumps rise around the woman's nipples. He reaches down and pulls the skin back over his erection. He always likes the first stroke as the slight pain burns at the head. With his left hand he traces small circles on her body as his right hand moves faster and faster bringing him to he brink. His right hand leaves his prick and darts out and hits the woman's left breast in a upwards swipe. The woman cries out and the man shudders with the effort of withholding his ejaculation.   When he has controlled himself he is pleased to see tears appearing from

The artist Nas once said that life is a bitch and then you die. I agree wholeheartedly. That is why I try to live life to the fullest everyday. Several things occured over the past two years that have significantly changed my life. Im not writing this post to complain about those things but to reflect on how those things have influenced my choice to fulfill a long time fantasy that up until this point in my life seemed unrealistic.  Tomorrow, I have a realtor coming to my home to list it for sale. I will be selling my home and moving in with my submissive so that we can build our 1950s household. She lives in Philadelphia so this will not only be an opportunity to live out my fantasy but it will also be a fresh start in a new city. The circumstances that created this possibility were not desireable but I am happy that they pushed me towards fulfilling one of my long time fantasies.  Life is a bitch and then you die.....so you may as well make the best of it while you can.    

I want a dominate woman to take me under her wing. To feminize and transform me into a full woman. I mean learn how to sit, walk, talk, think,...... everything. But to also transform me physically as well. Hormones, body contouring, breast implants, FFS and finally SRS.To transform me into a woman so much that no one would know that I was EVER a male.

You just came home from a long day at the office. I am in the bedroom waiting. I am wearing your favorite nightie with nothing underneath. I'm already so wet. My nipples are so hard now, and I want to touch them. I want to pinch one nipple with one hand and the other hand is playing with my pussy. Waiting and not being able to touch myself, is torture. And you know it. I can hear your smooth measured steps on the wooden floors. You stop in the kitchen, open the fridge and look through the shelves, making me wait.  The rules are simple. I am never allowed to wear bras or panties while in the house. I am never allowed to touch myself without your permission, and you rarely gives me permission. And when you comes home, I am to wait for you in our bedroom. I try to be a good girl, but sometimes forgiveness is easier to obtain than permission.  I can hear you now walking to the living room. The TV comes on. It's Sportscenter. I could from the theme song.  You're making me wait longer than usual. You never sit and watch TV. Tonight you are  punishing me. I just couldn't wait until you came home. home. Yesterday, I just couldn't wait! It was after you called me, and told me about all of the things you were gonna do to me. I was too revved up. So now you are punishing me. You didn't do anything to me. Just watched TV, while my hands were tied behind my back.  To Be Continued

Why do you do this? So here is my question and my issue...  Why are you here?  I know that the fakes and scammers are here to try and make a buck, and the Doms and Dommes are hre for their respective reasons, but this goes out to all those subs and slaves that need to pull their heads out of their asses. I have been around CS since it was CM, Not even sure if my old account is still active or not but regardless I want to know, why it is you dont have at least the basic respect for the ones giving their time to write you a simple reply? I can understand scrolling the mouse over an email and ignoring it if it has one sentance, but if some one takes the time to write out a whole paragraph introduction and you still ignore it, leaving it unread for years and yes I said years, there are some that I personally did a cleanup on this last month on my email dating back to pre covid still unread Seriously, there needs to be the old user notes back on profile so that you can make note of those you talk to, have mail unread with, etc And to those reading this that actually have notes in their mail like this be it from me or others, at least give the common respect that We deserve and write back that your not interested at the LEAST so that we can, at least those that are level headed, can simply move on I know that I only talk to one at a time here, and if a mail goes unaswered for a few days of seeing that user online every day, I will move onto the next But not everyone is like that here, some will bitch, rant, and wine that why aren't you answering your emails etc Now not all of those are trolls or fakes, but a good portion are mentally children if they do that A good not to the Doms and Dommes ,,,  Dommes not so much really,,,  SOMETIMES you get better results with honey than spite

Minoan culture was nothing if not discerning when it came to training slaves. Whereas most societies historically associated with the trade usually treated slaves as mere goods and chattels, Minoa was very different. Examining Minoan art reveal a repeated them when it came to female slaves, often depicting growth and improvement, education and status in the products of their schools.  The difference came from the skill and application Minoan schools showed in selecting candidates, with each school looking for specific traits within candidates. Schools would frequently trade amongst themselves, exchanging girls discovered through each schools specific sources and resources that, whilst not suitable for the discoverer, could be a prime candidate for another. As far as can be told, such trading was done on the basis of benefiting the wealth and influence of Minoa itself rather than an individual school.  Girls would be evaluated purely on their merits, with every attribute considered, evaluated and set against the specialisations of individual schools. It was not unkown for some, older candidates to become assistants to educators at a given school and even to become educators themselves. A girl trained in a Miinoan school to train others to Minoan standards was much sought after. Nowadays, slavery os often associated with either sex or labor, and whilst those were aspaspects of Minoan doctrine, there were many other beside, and each identified trait need a specific plan to bring it to full fruition. Let's look at grace, for example. Grace is usually defined as elegance or refinement, usually of movement. Those considered graceful move with confidence that comes across as fluid and unforced. Grace can also be defined as a behaviour, such as how someone graceful may treat those lower in social status than themselves. Physical grace was a much coveted attribute within Minoan schools because it could become foundational to other skills, such as dancing or fighting. Grace as a behaviour, likewise, was much in demand because it offered pathways into reading a room, keys to seduction or a skill in mediation.  Once identified, a talent like grace then had to be assessed. Was this kind of grace natural or an affectation?  If a natural, latent talent how malleable was it or was it a focused aspect of the girl? For instance, was her grace in movement scalable, as in was she as graceful in the small movements as the large? If not, could she be trained to be? How far could the girls natural gracefulness be pushed, and when did it break down? Was the girl as confident and comfortable in high footwear as with low? Could she move with the same elegance if she were carrying something? How could tight and restrictive clothing affect her? What about on uncertain ground? If balance was lost, how quickly and completely could the girl regain it? If an affectation, how much control did the girl have over it? How well could she shape her gracefulness to a given situation? Could she read the room, tell what was needed and provide it? Could she draw the eye of a crowd or was she better 1 to 1? Could she moderate her gracefulness so as not to show up those of higher status? Could she move according to a role she had to play, as physically convincing as a courtesan as she was a harlot as she was a prized mistress? Did she compliment those she was beside, able to elevate them with the attention of others and not cast them in shade next to her?  Now consider other talents, natural or learned. Languages, sexual proficiency, diplomacy, seduction, fighting both defensively and offensively, offering comfort and counsel, surrogacy, teacher, wet nurse, inamorata... on and on the list goes and, for century after century, on and on went the Minoan schools and higher and higher went their prestige and status and wealth. Until next time.   Questions?

Makes perfect sense  "Go to a movie... have dinner... look at a Rembrandt... talk about a poem... see a tree... look into a mirror together... do things that lead somewhere... AND THEN kneeling and giving orders has a reason... a purpose.. a deeper more fulfilling feeling of needs and desires..." -unknown  If I want to meet you,  our first meeting will be vanilla with a Dominant twist. It will be about getting acquainted with each other,  getting comfortable in each others presence. Our first meeting and those after will be dictated by Me. If you don't communicate,  don't expect Me to read your peebrain. If you have the audacity to agree to a meet and you fail to follow through,  you can be sure I will tax you if you reach out to Me again.  In the event you failed a previous meet, you will pay for the previous failure.

My ultimate goal is to find a man to make me his housewife, so I decided to write some things about what that means to me. A housewife is just a fancy way to say you are a slave in a 24/7 TPE. A housewife is property, a housewife has no rights, only those a master gives them. A housewife gives their mind and body to a master, a housewife is not able to make the decisions that are in their best interest, so a master takes that role. They choose the clothes that are best for their housewife to wear that day, a master knows the most important things that need to be done and make a list for the hou to complete for the day. The typical day of the housewife consists of cooking for a master, cleaning the masters house, and completing the duties a master tells them to do. A master cares for their housewife, and if a housewife does something wrong or does not do something correctly, the master punishes the housewife, to teach them and help them grow. A housewife gives their mind and body to the master, a master deserves this for caring for the housewife, this means their body is the master's to use amd abuse whenever and however they choose. I know there is more to this but these were just some of my thoughts.

On Losing the Thread I have lost my job. Layoffs, because the market is what it is right now, which is to say brutal and indifferent and entirely uninterested in timing or circumstance or the particular weight of losing income when everything else is already precarious. I am not alone in this. That does not make it lighter. Chicago may not be where I land. That sentence costs me something to write because I have fought for this city, for the proximity to my children's lives and the future I was building here, and the possibility of leaving it feels like one more thing being taken from a season that has already taken too much. I wanted so much more than this moment. I want to be honest about that without dressing it up. I wanted the beautiful home and the man on his knees inside it, wanted to be served with the devotion I have written about and dreamed about and know with complete certainty I deserve. I wanted mornings that felt like the life I designed rather than the life that is happening to me. I wanted to be so thoroughly served and so completely held that the hard seasons had somewhere soft to land. Instead I am here. Tired. Hoping anyway, because I do not seem to be built for the alternative. But today I am allowing myself to say: this is not what I wanted. I wanted more.   I still do.  

night air, a primal rhythm that echoed through the park. Lily's cries mingled with his grunts, their bodies moving as one, driven by the raw, animalistic need. He reached around, his fingers finding her swollen clit, rubbing and pinching it in time with his thrusts. "Cum for me, you little slut," he demanded, his voice harsh and commanding. "Cum on my cock." Lily's body tightened, every nerve alight with sensation. She was on the edge, teetering between pain and pleasure, as his fingers worked her clit and his cock filled her to the brim. With a final, powerful thrust, she shattered, her orgasm ripping through her, causing her to scream into the night. As her body convulsed around him, he groaned, his own release building. He gripped her hips tightly, holding her still as he emptied himself deep within her, filling her with his hot seed. They stood there, panting, their bodies still joined, as the echoes of their passion faded into the night. Lily's mind reeled, struggling to process what had just happened. She had been taken, used, and yet, she couldn't deny the pleasure she had experienced. The man released her, stepping back, his breathing heavy. "You were a good fuck, Lily. But now, I must go." Lily's legs trembled as she leaned against the tree, her body still throbbing with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She watched as he zipped up his pants, the moonlight glinting off his hooded figure. "Wait..." she whispered, her voice hoarse. "Who are you?"

 ravishment