== Results from bdsmtest.org ==100% Rope bunny100% Masochist98% Submissive82% Boy/Girl70% Experimentalist69% Brat66% Non-monogamist65% Exhibitionist64% Ageplayer64% Slave62% Primal (Prey)56% Degradee41% Voyeur33% Vanilla19% Pet

Okay let's try this again.  Kicked off the month with the headlight. Not long after that I am pulling into a space at work and a wheel well cover thing falls off of my car. I've been driving around without it, no idea how important it is but I'm sure I'll find out soon enough. Follow that up with taking the trash out one night and the bin hitting and cracking the rear tail light of the car. Perfect.  Let's move beyond the car, shall we? I'm hosting all of my parents for Thanksgiving. For the week, really. I plan out a full menu, hit several stores for every ingredient. Buy a giant turkey so I can make things like turkey soup and turkey pot pie afterwards. Two days before T Day one parent gets covid. The next day another parent gets covid. They aren't coming. I'm down to one parent showing up and roughly four bajillion dollars worth of food. Sigh. But okay, their covid symptoms aren't too horrible and that's what really matters, so let's get back to me. I power through. Fancy Tuesday night dinner. Afterwards I brine the turkey. It's going great, I'm nearly done, just need to add a little more water to top it off. I turn to the sink to finish. And that's when the brine bag tipped over and a river of salty herbal apple cider rushed over and into every nearby surface. At 10:00 at night. There's a lake on the stove. I don't mean a splash of liquid, there's depth to it. A tsunami flowed over the stove, between the stove and counter, all over the counter, into drawers, down into cabinets, and onto the kitchen mats and the floor. Did I mention it's 10:00? Right. Thankfully the entire bag didn't tilt so I refill and hope for the best so I can start kitchen recovery. An hour and an entire roll of paper towels later, I have emptied full drawers into the sink, pulled the stove out to sop up brine and all the herbs down the sides of the stove and counter, washed the floor. And all I can do is laugh, because November is kicking my ass.  But wait, there's more. My dad is in charge of the pie. He brought some ingredients, can't find them, asks me to look through his things. Sure, I can do that. Unzip compartments to take a peek. What am I looking at? It doesn't fully register and I nearly put  my hand in to pull it out. Then it hits me. These are sex toys. Big fucking EW. Why would he not remember that there are things in a bag his daughter probably doesn't want to see? November is trying to kill me.  I met a man. He was interesting and I liked him more than I planned to. Besides being a nice person, we seemed to be on the same page about a lot of things, and that's rare for me. And then he disappeared. Then reappeared. Then disappeared again. I'm chalking it up to bad timing. Oddly enough, the most recent ex is sniffing around. A lot. I have no idea what to do with that.  If CS had not been hungry and eaten the original version, you would have also read about the work thing, the arguments with my dad, and my traitor dog. And there would have been comedy sprinkled throughout. But I'm tired. So this is a poor second attempt to document why November is the absolute worst and there are still several days left. I give up. November wins. 

Socrates wrote, “The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.” Another way to look at it is that anyone who thinks they have achieved great wisdom clearly hasn't attained the wisdom to realize how little they still know, and are likely unworthy of the title wise. I love that idea. I think it's capable extending beautifully for the scene. If I ever tell someone they should trust me, rather that show someone who I am and hopefully inspire trust through my every action, I am probably undeserving of trust. If I ever tell someone they should respect me, rather that show someone who I am and hopefully inspire respect through my every action, I am probably undeserving of respect. If I ever claim to be a Master, having mastered myself, my ideas, my tools, it is likely I am simply displaying my deep unawareness of the more than a lifetime's worth to master. Of course, they executed Socrates for what he said about wisdom. So, to all those Masters, who demand trust and respect, who have little cliques who award each other leather. I'm sure you totally deserve all you demand. Hopefully that didn't sound too sarcastic. The British accent makes everything sound that way!

If you want me...Tell me. Don't wait for me to approach you, You may be broken a little bit inside, but you have to start by fixing yourself.. Do not wait for someone to come along and try to fix you. If you cancel our first date because you are afraid of what you can not control, than there will not be a second date. If you want to stick to chatting only, I will think that you probably have no interest in pursuing anything and I will move on. If you pretend not to give a fuck, I will think you really do not give a fuck, and I will move on. If the only way you can show your love is with your legs wide open... Than it probably will not last.. So why try? If you want me, you need to step out of your shadow and insecurities. It won't be easy, but it will be worth it.

I'm reading this book on habits. There's a little bit of the science, but mostly it's anecdotal moments of famous and not so famous people and how one small change created an avalanche of positive changes. Sometimes just within themselves, sometimes branching out to entire companies. It's fascinating. As I'm expected to, I'm mining the nuggets and looking at how they fit into my life. A lot of times an easy answer to why you do or don't do something is I don't know. Maybe you don't know, even when consciously thinking about it. And then you're listening to someone else's story and it comes to you, THAT'S why you do the thing! Or you already knew the thing but hadn't figured out the alternative better habit, like replacing junk food with a bowl of apples so when you need something quick and lazy it's the better option. I know I'm going to forget more than I remember, but right now its helping me to piece together the reasons why I fall back into certain habits and how to move beyond the comfortable to solidify the new, better ones. Not today, of course. Today was a shit show. But it's a plan for tomorrow. Progress. 

I am a 48 year old transgender sissy slave.. I am from Denmark but I can relocate for the right person..  I am single, unowned, no kids, no friends, no family that will miss me, the perfect victim.. I am educated as an ITsupporter but I am unemployed at the moment.  I am looking for total and real slavery.. I am looking to be fully owned and controlled with no rights, no freedom, no escape, no hope, no mercy, becoming brainwashed, broken down, humiliated, degraded into deep slavery fearing what comes next, when is the next beating, when is the next rape, what is the next sick perverted thing done to me.. Always living in chains or in some sort of bondage, staying locked away in a pitch black cell and/or cage, maybe for weeks at a time.. I am just a worthless disgusting pig, a toy, a fuck doll, a rape victim waiting to get beat up and raped on a daily basis, violently abused, a piece of meat, a possion, property who Master can do with as he pleases.. I am a big nothing who is waiting to serve in anyway I can.. Limits are limited to dismemberment, death no pulling out teeth or nails, no broken bones, kicks to the face and try to limit fists to the face, but in the heat of the moment, shit happens..  

Five hour drive for a throat fuck, part 1.   In the not too distant past I had an encounter with a young woman that was quite enjoyable on my part. After talking for a couple weeks she decided to come down and visit me for a day. She drove five hours down to where I was to come and see me. Five hours one way with only the promise of meeting up to get some ice cream. It ended up being a bit more than that, but still, a five hour drive one way.  So after the five hour drive we met at a dairy queen not far from where my house is. She was very shy, but she built up the courage to at least get a little ice cream. We ordered and had some light conversation waiting for our ice cream to be made. Once we got it we went back to my car and sat and talked while enjoying the sweet treat. After we had finished and talked for a while longer, I asked if she would like to come back to the house with me. She agreed and went back to her car to follow me.  We got back to the house and went inside. Spent a little bit of time introducing her to the dog and letting her get a little more comfortable. After a while we migrated to the couch at turned on some unimportant TV show and continued to talk. I asked her how she was feeling and what she was thinking and her response was simply "I'm shy".  I asked if she would be more comfortable texting me her thoughts instead of saying them and she nodded yes. So she turned to her phone and typed away. We had discussed at length the different things that we both enjoyed sexually over the last couple weeks. One of the things that she particularly enjoyed but was shy and bashful about was being throat fucked, used very hard, given little if any chance to breathe or recover, and having a man have his way with her for his pleasure.  My phone vibrated after she finished typing away. In short, her message said that she was shy and nervous but she really wanted to please me and just needed me to tell her what to do and she would do it. I asked her verbally if she was sure and she nodded yes.  "Good, very good." I say to her as she sits on the opposite end of the couch with her gaze averted down and away from me. I move over to her, grab her gently by the chin and lift her face towards me.  "Look at me." I say and she responds immediately.  I tell her "You're going to be my good little slut now and do what I want, but I know how shy you can be and I don't want you pushing yourself further than you can handle. So at any point if things get too intense for you, you are simply going to say Time Out. Do you understand?"  She nods her head yes again and I say, "No, for this you have to say it. I need you to tell me verbally that you understand and that this is what you want. Do you understand? Is this what you want?"  She turns her eyes downward again and says "Yes Sir, to both."  With that I step back away from her and sit back down on the couch. "On your knees in front of me." I command and she moves immediately.  Oh we are going to have some fun tonight. I think to myself. Yes we are going to have some fun.  To be continued.......

Seeking a final addition to my home, my pack, my fife. I want someone who identifies as submissive or slave. Someone who would enjoy being part of my kink friendly Famale Domme led pack of hubby and boy, enjoying life with us in our beautiful Florida home. I have a room waiting for you, set up to work from home as I do, and 4 friendly dogs who make life better. I still have my kink room and equipment and crave obedience and someone to use for my sadistic whims. There are not many skills in the kink world I am not skilled in, but there are a few I do not prefer to practice. If you are bi sexual that is great, boy is interested, if you are not that is fine too as I am more than enough Lady for everyone.  I now have a brief chat and meet because waiting has not been productive, a lot of chating then ghosting when it is time to meet. I am real, I live the lifestyle 24/7 but of course I have my vanilla/professional side. I have lots of photos and am not afraid to give you my phone number soon. I do not chat on any of the platforms most seem to ask about.  Reach out, your life can change this year. 

I'm an ebony goddess currently looking for a sub/cuck to train to serve and worship me. Communication , trust and eagerness to learn, obey and serve are a must! Catch my attention, keep my attention and crave my attention. I will love to make you my personal slave, be under my feet , worship me. Lot of fun and let's explore our kinks together. I love to tease, to train, and to torture. I want my subs undivided time, adoration, attention, energy, and lavish worship. I have zero interest in fulfilling your fantasy. I am a true dominant woman and this is all about me and my pleasure, happiness and gratification; should you manage to enjoy yourself while I am whipping you into shape, or using and abusing you, then that is okay...but never will be of concern to me. I’m in search of a male submissive/cuck who is reliable,  independent, sane, I’d prefer someone who is service oriented as well as having masochistic tendencies   I would prefer someone with some kind of experience 

Don't give up my first journal. Hi I'm mistress muse and I am dominant to my wolf.  If there is one thing that being on the scene has taught me, it would be to never give up. I spent so long in fruitless vanilla relationships that although, true, filled with love and all the nice things that people claim to experience in these things it also carried with it a weight. It was like a brick in my chest, a wrong feeling, an alone feeling, a dark hopeless feeling, a sinking if you will. Which in a way was true I was drowning I was drowning in self doubt I was drowning in a sea of misunderstandings and depravity. The love I craved seemed so taboo it almost seemed impossible to obtain. I may have been looking in the wrong places but even kinky people I've known for years on the scene would often look baffled if I piped up some of my perversions. I then met someone I had known in a completely vanilla setting... So vanilla in fact even he hadn't really noticed me before... a friend who knew of his kinks thought we would be quite suited. Looking back now I find it amusing that both him and I scoffed at the idea but Kinky curiosity got the better of us. There was this feeling everytime we spoke... A feeling of understanding... A good feeling... A weightless feeling soon combined with a feeling of want. I wanted this man... I was fucking getting him. On the scene for years he has been known as z3ro (zero) but ladies gents and pets let me tell you this he is anything but a zero so from the very beginning I have refused to use this name for him. He became my Wølf, my alpha bitch, my sub, my friend, my mirror and my PARTNER. I have used this term quite freely in the past but with him it's different. He is my partner in crime he is my play partner he is my intellectual chewing gum. He turns my head and the way my brain works. I never thought it was possible to find someone to just get me and be able to match my sadistic evil streak. To find someone on the same interlectual level as me. For me to find someone just as twisted as me. For this I am grateful and this is why my wisdom(me) for the day is this.... JUST DON'T GIVE UP

Still looking for the sub husband.  He: is 30-50 yo have no kids of any age is not a bore is in good shape knows how to make money and at the same time does not flaunt his wealth is not sissy We still can discuss your age. Don't be shy and DM me.

Among the minority within the class of submissives to whom slavehood is a vocation and slavery the ultimate goal, many are happily collared. Many, many more, however, are not. They are still waiting for their One, the master or mistress to whom they can give their lives completely, their submission totally, and their consent unconditionally. Commendable though this patience might be, the waiting can appear more than just a little frustrating at times. What does one do when every fibre of one's being is screaming for submission, while one has not yet found the person to whom such total submission seems right and natural? If you belong in this group, or if you are simply biding your time for any one of many perfectly legitimate reasons, there is in fact something you can do. You can spend the waiting time "preparing" yourself. Note the quotation marks, however. There is a distinction here that is vitally important to make. You are not doing this for "the One to come", you are doing it for you. Why? Because if you do it for "the One to come" you run the very real risk of ending up worshipping an idol of your own creation with which no dominant, no matter how good, stands a snowball's chance in hell of competing. Instead of preparing yourself for "the One to come", consider it improving your own marketability. Most of it is a matter of common sense. You probably already know what dominants generally tend to look for. Some of it you'll have down pat. Ignore that and get the other areas up to specs, then work on improving the whole. 

Honestly if you been whoring around and doing "sessions" with other doms ..giving them all your first expereinces dont bother me. There is nothing left for me to bond with you over and I have no reason to take a sub who others have used and dont want to own.  As my uncle always told me..you can play with the slut all you want...but dont bring them home to mom. Well you are of no value to me after you been used by any loser who will play with you so dont even bother. I am looking for someone I can be proud to own not someone who didnt want to make a connection with the person training or using them. I am not here to play games and if you lie to me I end it. I dont judge you for what you do its your life just dont bother me because I am not interested in whores. Nothing I say or do will mean anything to you nor will anything that is a symbol to me have any meaning to you. If you went to a class or training camp to learn to be a sub then go to someone who wants that because I know of no one who does. I am a warrior my slave is part of me and they are special ..I make no apology for the way I feel.

I have been getting a lot of emails asking to hear from my husband M. He sometimes signs on here and speaks with those who write me. So, I asked him to write a little report about something meaningful that happened to him lately. This is what he produced.    This afternoon, I happened to be in my room (dressed in regular clothes minus pants) when K came in unexpectedly, wearing a sexy, silky, blue push-up bra, red ruffled panties, and her strappy white 5" heels. It was just prior to the 4th of July and this was supposed to be her holiday-appropriate outfit for her boyfriend.  Seeing that she had gotten dressed up for her boyfriend, I knew what was coming; in this house, when K gets dressed up in something sexy, I know I will be getting dressed up in the printed ABDL diapers instead of my typical white ones. Sure enough, after rummaging through my closet, she picked out a white and baby blue trimmed t-shirt that she then put over head after telling me to raise my arms. "Isn't that cute," she remarked with a pleasant but rather condescending tone. She really likes this shirt because it stops and my waist.  This was followed by telling me to lay down for a change from my usual plain white diapers to my thick printed diapers. It was a quick change, all business, she ignored my caged penis as usual other than dusting it with powder. As she stood me up and checked the tapes, I caught my reflection in the full length mirror that hangs on the back of my door. I felt so humiliated, the smell of pee-soaked diapers coming from the diaper pail in the corner mixed with the constant aroma of baby powder filling my nose as she dressed me like a toddler, knowing she was about to have wild sex in the other room--something I would be excluded from, as usual. "You look amazing, K. I can't believe what that bra does to your boobs." I complimented her. "Thanks baby, too bad they're not for you," she told me, cupping her big breasts in her hands to emphasize her point  with a little giggle and I felt my little penis straining in my chastity device. "But I could try again if you'd let me," I said, trying not to sound too desperate. "M, how long are you going to continue asking?", she said dismissing me, "I don't even understand why you ask at all. We already came to an understanding a long time ago now didn't we? Has anything changed? will it ever change?" I blushed at the memory and meekly replied, "No." She was right of course. When I think about the conversation we had the night she told me we'd never have sex again, I know that I accepted our new arrangement. It's just that I guess I haven't got out of the habit of trying.  Turning me around, she gave me a firm pat on my diapered bottom and strode out of the room. Looking in the mirror on the back of my door again as she closed it, I again blushed with shame. About a half hour later, I heard the knock and K answering the door. I stayed in my room, working on the computer listening to them chatting at first but then walking down the hall past my bedroom into hers. They had been in there with the door closed for about 20 minutes when I heard... "M, come in here." I walked in with a little waddle and an audible crinkle, to see her bent over her boyfriend who was lying on top of the master bed. She was deepthroating his big cock and I stared in mesmerized silence, watching the thick, slippery shaft disappear into her wet, eager mouth and throat.Some secret part of me wondered less how it would feel to have that done to me and more how it would feel in my own mouth. Swallowing hard, I instinctively put a hand on the front of my soft, cushiony diapers. I just stood there watching for what seemed like eternity ignored by both K and John, but in reality was probably no more than 5 minutes. Finally, with a wave of her hand, she dismissed me, sending me back to my room, or anywhere really, just not with them. Before long, the sounds of their enthusiastic lovemaking filled the house and I listened with rapt attention. Looking at my humiliating reflection in the mirror, I blushed with shame at my pathetic image. Both of them saw me as nothing but a complete submissive, that would never change. My cheeks flushed with humiliation at the thought and I rubbed the front of my diapers all the more frantically as I took in my reflection. The short shirt, the print on the diaper that was starting to fade from the wetness after two accidents, the outline of my cage on the plastic shell. I was in frantic need of an orgasm, but because of the cage, there was little effect. Feeling sexually frustrated and wanting more, I went to my dresser and grabbed my favorite jelly buttplug--the big clear one, which I rubbed down with the baby oil K sometimes uses during diaper changes. Pulling the back of my diapers down, I could hear K moaning in the other room and her boyfriend's subtle grunting as I began pushing the fat buttplug into my eager hole. I can barely handle the width of this plug, especially at first, and I moaned with a mixture of discomfort and angst. I couldn't get it in standing and dropped to all fours. At last, it slipped inside me and I exhaled in relief. Nevertheless, as I pulled my diapers back up and sat down in front of the mirror and soon began to savor the feeling of rubbery fullness filling my back passage. M was getting what she needed and I was getting as best I could.  I don't even know how long I had been sitting there grinding, which so far had only resulted in further desire when M staggered back into my room and right up in front of where I sat. I sat there frozen as she lightly guided her fingers between her legs then told me to stick out my tongue. I crawled to her, inhaling her amazing scent, caressed her legs as I plunged my face between her legs and she let her boyfriend's creamy cum drip onto my outstretched tongue. "I'm dripping baby boy, clean me up please" she said with a smug grin and stood now with her feet shoulder width apart.I couldn't help but hurriedly press my face into her body. I could smell the result of their lovemaking as another man's sperm completely coated my tongue while I cleaned her with my mouth. Some even dribbled down to land on the chest of my infantile t-shirt. Suddenly, to my surprise, she stood me up and pulled me with the waistband of my diaper to the chair in the corner of my room where she took a seat and I stood in front of her. She abruptly pulled my diapers down. I whimpered with fear as she bent me over her lap, selecting the wooden paddle on my dresser. Feeling the cool air on damp bare bottom, I squirmed knowing I wasn't going to like what was about to happen. "You will not ask for sex again", she quipped as she brought the paddle down across both my soft, tender cheeks pushing the plug into me. "I'm so sorry" I managed to get out between the 3rd and 4th smack. I cried miserably, occasionally glancing over at my humiliating reflection in the mirror. There could be no doubt who sat at the bottom of the social ladder in this house--that was for sure! At last she finished, and after setting the paddle down, she left closing the door. Leaving me to pull my diapers back up for myself.   Sigh...just another day's activities at my house...

Stretchmarks, scars and cellulite It's a conversation that i've had far too often. "I want to take it off but I have scars", "I hope you don't mind my stretch marks" or what's worse "please don't be disappointed". I can't and i'm not going to pretend to speak for all men ( I am increasingly realising that there are a large number of us who are unequivocal dick heads) But I can say with confidence that I am not phased in the slightest. By your scars, your stretch marks or any other imperfections.Each one of them is a different aspect of you and possibly even tells a story that explains why you are the incredible person you are. My favourite thing to do on a play date is you standing in front of me so I can enjoy and explore every inch of you.

My best friend has self terminated on Jan 26.I have always been one to put my best face forward, but I am not sure how I am going to be able to do that in the days to come. I had no warning, and I cannot understand why he has not reached out to me. To talk to me. I feel that if he had reached out to me I'd have talked him back from the ledge. I was supposed to buy him a beer when I saw him next, and him to buy me one in return. We were supposed to talk about the old days. Is this what growing old is?  To take all thsoe who you love, and those who love you in return? If so, I do not want to grow any older. I am done. I'd rather sleep a thousand years and hope that the passage of time deadens the pain in my heart. I am in my 40's and should not feel this pain. I should not be feeling this pain. I feel it is too soon. Family.... I get it.... but my brothers in arms.... It's too soon. 

The List of Red Flags--Profile Edition I'm back on Collarspace after a short hiatus.  As an experienced Domme, I see all the red flags before everyone else.  I know who arethe kinkiest: shoutout to Florida and Australia for having some of the kinkiest people on the planet.  There are a lot more creepy ass people on here than before, and a bunch of fantasy seekers and married men.  Its a complete waste of time.  LOCATION-- Ghost profile. If the profile does not state a location, they're not looking to be found.  Move on. No Kinks Listed: Someone new, inexperienced or fantasy seeker NO BDSM TEST RESULTS:  If you don't know who you are kinkwise, you lack self awareness.  This is generally a sign of a narcissist. NO PIC:  Not looking to be found.  Unless the account is new, there should always be a photo.   DICK PICS: Person is a dick.    If the picture is of someone exceptionally attractive, buyer beware.  Attractive people get attention.  They don't need an ad.

This is a short story i wrote a couple of years ago . . Is your life really that empty? Maybe the best words I have ever spoken Is your life really that empty? That may be the best opening line since ‘.......I was born in 1518 in the village of Glenfinnan on the shores of Loch Shiel. And I am immortal'. In truth maybe not, but these words got me here, pressing keys on my pc’s keyboard about to tell my story. A good opening line, true, although not a good place to start my tale, so, where to begin? Who I am, where I was when I first saw her or the reason I spoke those words? Maybe to ground this thing would be best, I am male, a Dom, a sadist, not rich, not powerful, slightly artistic, getting to be older than I want to be living in a small suburb of a small city in the English Midlands. It was a Tuesday, early afternoon and I was on a coach going to Nottingham to check out an art gallery to see if they would exhibit, or sell, some pieces of my work. Don’t get all excited thinking I am a master painter or sculptor selling pieces for hundreds of thousands of pounds (yes pounds and not dollars) I sell my work for between £100 – 200 if I am lucky enough to find a buyer.Anyway, I first saw the girl, woman, standing on the platform along with others, waiting for our coach to arrive and noticed her because she fell into that style of female I like, slim, simple hair style, makeup tending towards the Goth, in jeans, ankle boots and a soft leather jacket and no handbag – simple pleases me. I am a good and sadistic Dom but I am no good at talking to females I do not know in vanilla situations so I took in her images, filed it under, ‘what a shame’ and then as the coach arrived I entered and walked to the back and sat down only to find she followed and sat in the seat in front of me on the other side of the isle. As we pulled out of the station I saw her take out a book, find her place, about a third of the way through, and begin to read. To say my mental image of her was shattered would be far too extreme but I was so disappointed in her. If she was vanilla it was such a pointless thing to read and if into my ‘lifestyle’ a really sad thing to read and I didn’t know which was worse. I tried to ignore her, and the book, as the minutes ticked by.  I watched houses and trees and cars pass by before we reached the dual carriageway, connecting the two cities, and the coach built up speed. I noticed all other passengers were seated nearer the front leaving at least seven rows of empty seats between us and them and I decided this was the universe telling me to do something – the universe seldom tells me to do things in case you were wondering. I moved across the back seat until I was slightly to her left but still behind her and said in a normal speaking voice, not too loud, not too quiet, “Is your life really that empty?"I accept this could be a very insulting thing to say to anyone especially a stranger on a bus but the words formed and so were spoken. She lifted her head from the book but did not turn around, I could see her face from where I sat and her mouth turned down slightly, not in a frown but in a puzzled thoughtful way and lowering the book to her knees she said, “Why do you say that?" "I am a Dom and a sadist”, I said although not sure why I was so truthful, “I don’t usually tell people as most do not understand.” I paused waiting to see what she would do or say. "I see.” Was all she said, which didn’t give me any sort of clue or guide to what I should do or say next.  "The book does not relate to the real world of BDSM, most of us are so normal we are as boring as vanilla folk.” I saw a smile come to her face at this so continued, “It is only when we play that many of us diverge from the norm, but I suppose the same could be said of golfers or those that go tenpin bowling every week.” She laughed at this; thank god.  "How do you dominate people then, do you do it with men or woman or both?” She did not turn around as she spoke.  "Before I answer that, have you tried anything in a fetish way; are you sub or Domme or both?"  "You would certainly call me vanilla I think. Everyone is reading the book so I thought I would too.” She paused for a heartbeat and then said, “I am not sure if I would like to submit to a man, I think I might giggle too much if I had to call someone Sir or Master."  "There is much rubbish talked about BDSM, you do not need to call him Sir if that is not what you want, I have little interest in a female calling me Sir unless it comes naturally to her at a time that seems correct to use it.  "BDSM is like real life, it is not a video game, it merely has a few given rules that vary as much as any vanilla couple’s rules vary, that and blindfolds and restraints obviously"  "Something else I would not like until I trusted him enough.” She said and added “How to you write a contract?"  "I am a sadist, I like a little fear in my play, if you trusted me, or knew me too well, could you really be scared of me? I thought this was a statement too far and wondered if I was trying to sabotage this conversation. “There is even more bullshit talked about contracts.  No contract is needed by 999 out of a 1000 couples. “I say ‘do you want to play’? You answer ‘I am new to this’, I say, ‘understood’. What more needs saying?"  I watched her face, and saw a small frown crease her brow, “Remember, you have the power to stop whatever is happening by simply saying a single word, it is easier to stop what is happening in a BDSM encounter than, say, trying to get rid of some half drunk moron in a nightclub who is likely not to take no for an answer. If I do something you do not like, it ends and the play stops, it is in the skill of the Dominant one to not make you say that word."  "I don’t understand,” she said, ”if you are dominant how could I stop you doing what you want especially if I am blindfolded or tied up?"  "Blindfolded, AND tied up” I said with a smile, “I said before, BDSM is real life, if you say the stop word and the dominant one continues that is assault, or as close to it as make no difference, BDSM does not give anyone the right to, umm, go too far."  The coach stopped and two elderly couples boarded and I watch with not a little ‘fear’ as they decided where to sit, the universe was still on my side and they sat side by side 5 rows in front of the girl.  We were well passed half way to the city and I didn’t know where the girl was going, the University of Nottingham Campus would be reached in 5 minutes or so and she could easily be a student there. So as the coach moved on I said.  "It is much easier to show you, show someone I mean, what happens in BDSM play than to describe it, just like if you were going on a first date in the vanilla world you go on it and see how things progress”.  She sat for a second and then put the book back in her pocket, “Thanks for the chat but I have to get off in a couple minutes."  "Ok, I don’t usually talk like this on buses with cute females I don’t know so thank you for not running away screaming.”  I reached into my pocket and took out my business card, “I am a body piercer so I have a card, if you are bored give me a ring and maybe I can answer some more questions or, if your curiosity gets stronger, I can show you my Domly skills.” I reached forward and placed the card on her left thigh, gently pressing the card down, before taking my hand away.  She looked at it before picking it up and putting it in her pocket, so I said “I have a normal house on a normal street, although I do have a play room of sorts with some interesting things to play on and with, so if you visit you do not have to walk though a dark wood to a haunted castle."  she took this the way I hoped and laughing said, “That’s a relief, but this is my stop so bye"  "Have fun.” I said as she stood and I was very impressed, not sure why though, that as she got up and walked down the coach she didn’t look back to see who I was.  The coach stopped she got off and I thought I would not see her again and wondered if I should get off too but my commonsense won out and I sat still as we moved off. “One day I will remember to ask a females name” I said to the back of the seat in front of me and again thought ‘what a shame.'  "Good morrow.” Yes, I oft times answer the phone this way. It is Thursday at 7pm and I have been relaxing watching a video on tv.  "Hello.” A female voice replies.  A silence follows which I do not interrupt wondering if this is another recorded message asking if I want to make a personal injury claim or some other tedious drivel. “I thought reality might be better than fiction."  "Ah.” I am a sadist of few words but sometimes one has to be a little helpful, “That is easy to do, come to my home, knock on the door and then enter, all other decisions will be made for you from that point. If you wish things to stop simple say ‘Lucifer’ and I will stop whatever I am doing.  "You do like us to be scared don’t you, I thought we would be discussing what and how, not simply being told to visit."  "When you visit it will be a time of physical interactions, this will not be a time for you to serve me as a slave or for silly things like sitting at my feet waiting for permission to get up or speak."  "Ok, I just come and that’s it, you don’t want to know more about me."  "You are cute, you want to know more about submission and you called me.   That is all I need, I told you before it is for me to play without making you want, or need, to stop me; so all will be found out when you are here."  "When can I come and should I wear something specific?"  "What an entertaining fem you are, if free tonight come at 9 pm or come tomorrow at the same hour. As for clothes, if you wish to please then, as I am a male; heels, hold ups or stockings or bare legs, a thong, g-spring or nothing. Short skirt, not denim (hate denim), shirt with buttons and a skimpy bra or no bra, a coat may be wise as it is somewhat cold out."  "You sound like you have said that before, I will see what I can do and tonight would be best in case I chicken out tomorrow."  I gave her my address and added, “For your safety, and to make you feel a little more relaxed, tell your best friend you are visiting me, say about piercing if that is easier, and tell them you will call when you arrive here too. You will be safe here but it is a wise thing to be careful."  "I will see you tonight then, what should I call you."  "I will be waiting, and for tonight you can call me Demon.” I clicked the end call icon on my mobile and laughed out loud, maybe not such a waste after all.  I never plan what I am going to do with a sub, that way leads to disappointment more times than not, so I sat and watched my video till a suitable time came for me to stop it. I have a small pack of dogs so I sent all of them to their beds and went upstairs to change.  I checked to see that my playroom was ready and laid out my toys on a rack then, with 30minutes to go, had a quick shower and dressed in my Domly garb.  I decided to start the evening off on a high pressure moment, to see how she reacted, so dressed in leather trousers, knee length New Rock boots, vest and full length leather coat, all in black, obviously. To complete the attire I had recently made some leather gloves and a full hood, both with spikes and piercings, and these I put on before going downstairs.  I have a hallway leading from my front door to my kitchen with a turn to the right half way down leading to my staircase. At five to nine I turned out the light in the hall, darkness fell, I turned on the kitchen light, closing the door so only a thin sliver of light could be seen, and bought to life my cd player to beginning playing Metallica’s Black album.  I stood silently at the foot of my stairs, a still, dark shadow in the darkness, calmly wondering if she would come or not.  What a good girl she was, just after the 2nd track, ‘Sad But True’, began there as a double tap on the door.  I clenched my fists as a smile, which could not be stopped, came to my lips when the door opened and closed.  I have a tiled floor and her heels, clicked nicely five times before she appeared looking ahead towards the light in front of her.  I stepped quickly forward making a short, high pitched hiss to encourage her to turn a little towards me. Her head turned and, I am sure, she caught a glimpse of a moving darkness just before my right hand clamped over her mouth and my left arm swung over her shoulder allowing my left hand to grip her right arm, pinning her closely to my body.  "You came.” I whispered in her ear.  Her body was shaking violently and I could feel her breath coming in short, sharp, warm pants against my fingers, “Good girl, now control your breathing and relax a little, I have you safe and sound.” As I said this I used my right hand to brush her hair back over her ear and gently kissed it and, moving my head a little, I bit the lobe with just a little pressure from my teeth.  Even in her present shaken state, or maybe because of it, she let out a deep, long sigh and I felt her weight lean into me as she slumped slightly in my arms. Another gentle kiss on her ear followed by words spoken so softly they were more felt than heard, “Clever girl, pleasure and pain, fear and ecstasy and yours to enjoy or stop with a single word.” It is wise to remind a novice of their safeword I find in case, in the excitement of the new, they forget.  My right hand moved slowly inside her coat, which was of a dark material and almost as long as mine. My fingers slipped between the buttons of her shirt to rest lightly on a shear and half cup bra. Her flesh was very warm as I pushed my index finger under the top of the material and rolled her nipple under it then, drawing back my nail, I scraped over the small budding flesh. Another sweet sigh came to my ears.  I thought one more experience, before going up stairs, so my hand left her breast and moved slowly up to her throat and then, with a strong push, I sent her to thud against the wall and tightened my grip.  In the darkness I saw her eyes open wide as she saw my hooded face for the first time, “Sensations,” I said, “it can be all about sensations.”  “Upstairs, time to show you what the book could not.”  I released her and let her lead the way upstairs and into my playroom, the light was on dimmer so added a little dungeony atmosphere. I touched her shoulder to stop her then walked further into the room and sat on a chair facing her.  “Take off your coat.” I said.  I suppose it might be entertaining, and pleasing, to give a short deion of the girl at this point.  As I mentioned she fell perfectly into what I consider appealing, 5ft 7inchs tall, give or take an inch, a size 8 (I know such things as I sell corsets too) with breasts that fit nicely into my hand. Her hair, this evening, was shoulder length, straight and black with, something like burgundy hints. Her face was perfect, as only teenager’s skin can be, without wrinkles or lines and wearing black eyeliner and dark red lipstick.  As she took off her coat, which was a deep purple, I saw she was wearing a red shirt with full sleeves, a soft cotton skirt of a darker red that came to mid thigh, black fishnets and black, ankle boots, maybe, the same as on the first occasion I saw her.  “Hold-up’s or stockings? I asked, “show, don’t tell”  “You really don’t like small talk.” She said and lifted the hem of her skirt to show the lacy elasticated top of hold-ups.  “In case you do not know what these things are,” I waved my left hand to indicate my play furniture, “That is a St. Andrew’s Cross, a simple why to hold you safely, and securely, when being flogged; many like it this way, Dom and sub.  That is a spanking bench, you can lean against it or kneel on the lower cushion, also a nice height to fuck on. I have a pony, which is easier to show you it use than explain; maybe if you visit again I will let you ride it. And on the wall behind you there are many securing points if the cross is not wanted.”  “Come and kneel between my legs.” I said unzipping my coat and opening my knees.  She did not move and looked a little uneasy, “Be a good girl and come here so I can put some cuffs on your wrists. Now she came forward and knelt down, sitting on her heels and placed her right hand on my thigh.  “A little show of defiance?” I asked and not waiting for an answer I put on a leather restraint.  “These were the first things I ever made when I came to the Life.” She watched me intently with a small smile as I fastened the strap then, when it was done, she gave me her left hand for the other restraint.  “Close your eyes.” I said and once they were shut I said, “Open your legs and put your hands behind your back.” Her skirt rose up and I could see pale skin above the fishnets as she obeyed. I reached down and gently pulled my nails along her inner thigh and then sat back to look at her.  “In a few moments I will use some of my toys on you, I will begin with a soft toy and use it gently but then I will change it and use another type of toy and change again and each change will mean more sensation until it brings pain and maybe ecstasy”  I picked up a blindfold and told her to open her eyes and come closer. Once it covered her pretty blue eyes I told her to give me her hand and to stand up.  “Take off your skirt and give it to me.” She pulled down the zip at her hip and climbed out of the skirt. She wore a thin red g-string which was mostly lace and very seethough.  “Give me your right hand.” She did and I placed it on my left shoulder, “Now give me your right foot so I can add an ankle cuff. “Now your left.” Once the other restraint was on I ran my hand along the underside of her leg, over her hold-ups, across skin and gently touched the g-string with my finger tips.  I lifted her foot off my knee and, standing up, led her back to my flogging wall.  “As this is your first time I will let you keep your arms down by your side, I will still tie them as don’t want you covering yourself, but it is a little more comfortable this way. First though I need to do this.” I unbuttoned her shirt and took it off her compliant body. Her bra matched her g-string, cut low letting half a nipple show above both cups. I lifted out her left breast and sucked hard on her nipple pinching it between thumb and forefinger as I let it fall from my mouth, forcing a gasp of pain, or pleasure, from her lips.  I tied red rope to her left wrist restraint securing her hand about 6 inched from her side then did the same with her right wrist, then, before continuing and because she could no longer see me, I removed my hood and coat. I knelt in front of her and kissed her navel before tying a rope to her left ankle restraint and then her right, forcing her legs almost three feet apart  I sat back on my boot heels and looked at her, chest rising and falling quickly as she breathed in short, shallow breaths, one nipple, very pink, hard rested over the top of red material and moving down to more red material, wet and slick as her body, and mind, responded to stimuli physical and mental.  “This is a suede flogger.” I said beginning to gentle swing it in a figure of eight so that its movement caused a breeze that caressed her skin; goosebumps appeared over her arms.  I took half a step closer and the 18 tails brushed against flesh creating delicate slapping sounds. Downwards over left breast then right breast, from shoulder to nipple then, with a slight change of action, from hip to navel, left then right with not too much force, letting the suede tails move across skin once or twice a second.  I took another half step increasing the speed of my swing and the impact now made a very nice sharp sound. An added bonus, for me anyway, was that her hidden nipple had been forced out by the flogging action and the tails hit each pink morsel on each pass of the flogger.  Her skin was turning pink so I stopped and, discarding my flogger, ran my hands over her gently, creating marks with my nails and feeling the warmth I had created.  I have a very sharp dagger, broad of blade and 12 inches long in my playroom, I unsheathed it and laid the cold blade on her left breast, a nice intake of breath was my reward. I moved the edge across her breasts and under the right strap of her bra. A quick upwards pull and the strap split in two, a reverse journey, with a little more pressure this time, ended in another strap cut through. I reached behind her to unclipped the strap and her head came forward to rest against my neck and I felt a gentle kiss alight there. The clip opened (yes I can do this one handed) and felt the bra fall to the floor.  “More.” Was the single word she breathed against my neck.  “Obviously, little one.” My reply.  3 fingers of my right hand moved up quickly to slap the red material of her g-string, ‘very wet indeed’ I thought as I stepped back and reached for my red and black 36tail flogger.  Now, as the multi tails hit, her muscles twitched and small panted sighs came from her lips. Heavy, thudding hits moved a breast with each contact and made a wonderful sound as they hit her flat stomach, only a couple minutes of this and her skin was red and she was dancing on her toes with each hit  I stopped and dropped the flogger into my play bag and stood still simply looking at her, I had a strong, and strange, urge to untie her and carry her to my bedroom and gently make love to her for she looked so innocent and young tied against my wall. I had an overwhelming desire to ‘comfort, no wrong word, worship her was much closer to the mark.  Her head tilted to the left, as though listening for me, and then said, “Demon: Sir? Is everything alright?”  A slow smile returned to my lips and, stepping forward, slapped down hard on her left breast stinging the fingers of my hand. She cried out in pain and, no doubt, shock and her blind eyes looked down to her hurting flesh as her hand tried to reach up to ease the sensation  "All is just as it should be.” I said, “One more toy and then you can turn around for a time.”  I have two toys I call ‘little and big sister’, little sis is a whip flogger with a jointed tail section joining 8 shortish leather tails to the main body of the whip, very flicky and stingy; perfect for nipples and caressing g-strings with touches of fire.  Following the heavy beat from the music, heard and felt from downstairs, I flicked the tails at her legs, aiming just above her knees and, with a strong wrist action, moved the tails slowly upwards, hitting one leg then the other. I was tempted to aim at that small piece of red material but did not want to risk her stopping the play. I, therefore, moved outwards as I got higher and then continued moving towards her navel and up over her breasts. I was rewarded with many twitches, sighs and seeing her hands clenching and unclenching.  I pushed this play as much as I dared, as I love the way this toy touches nipples with fiery kisses, so I watching her face and body intently, looking for the moment when her strength, courage, tolerance or, god forbid, boredom got the better of her.  She was shaking her head from side to side, facing the heavens her mouth open sucking in air as though drowning, so I slowed my swings and eased off the pressure until finally I stopped.  Throwing the toy in to my bag I put my arms around her and pulled her to me, after a moment I raked my nails down her back – sensation upon sensation without time to recover or relax into a lessened state of awareness  “If you do not want this just says no, other things can still continue.” I said and slipped 2 fingers under her g-string and into her wet, warm cunt.  She almost screamed as she thrust her hips forward on to my hand so, smiling (being a sadist makes me smile a great deal), I thrust my fingers into her letting my palm thud into her clit.  I am a Dom, a sadist and I love to inflict pain but I do not like receiving it, so I had an entertaining decision to make for, as my fingers continued to make her body shake and quiver, her mouth found my shoulder and her teeth found my flesh and she bit me as the orgasm, I knew was coming, racked her body.  I added a finger and speed and as her groaning breaths moved against my skin I almost forgot my tortured flesh until she cried out, releasing her hold on me. As her body danced in uncontrolled spasms while waves of orgasm rippled through her the pain in my shoulder doubled up giving me an incentive to reinforce the speed and strength of my fingers lifting her onto her very toes.  “Oh god, stop please stop, for fuck sake stop, god oh god oh god.” Such sweet words tripped continually from her gasping mouth, and like the good Dom I am, I continued, She had arched her back, a beautiful human sculpture curving from toe tip to crown of head resting on the wall with nipples pointing to the sky,  I bent down and bit into her left nipple, teeth clamping hard, head pulling back and lips clamped to allow me to suck hard and long.  I felt a sudden explosion of hot wetness on my hand and she screamed in one long wild cry, second after second her scream continued  as my fingers and teeth did their work, “Demon, Lord, Sir, please, please stop.” she begged as the scream finally died  I stopped my fingers movement but left them buried inside her, releasing her nipple I supported her weight with my left arm as she straightened up to rest against the wall behind her. My fingers rolled over each other in the warmth of her cunt as I slowly withdrew them.  “Open your mouth”, I said, “You have made a mess on my hand.” This she did and as I placed my fingers close to her lips her tongue came out and eagerly licked them clean of her unexpected reaction. “Good girl.” I said as I watched her clean my hand.  “A slight rest, little one, then we will continue with more toys if you still wish it.” I watched her face hoping she would not want to stop. She said nothing as her breathing slowed. I asked, “Would you like some cold water?” With a slight nod of her head I said, “Stay still while I am gone, it will be only seconds but continue to rest against the wall your legs may not want to obey you if asked to do more than stand still.”  On impulse I gentle kissed her lips, tasting her cunt on them, before leaving to run cold water into a glass, returning I let her sip for a few moments until the glass was almost empty.  I placed my right hand, cold from holding the glass, against her cheek and let it travel over her skin to her shoulder then down her arm to reach the restraint. As I untied the rope I said, “I am not trying to break you, little one, I am not trying to release your hidden goddess or any other such sad drivel, I seek only to let you know yourself, your limits, your desires and allow you the freedom to enjoy and act on them.”  With the last rope untied and kneeling in front of her – I am worshipping again I thought to myself - I ran my hands up her legs and under the thin straps of her g-string and then slowly pulled them down her legs until she obediently lifted her right foot, then her left, to allow me to remove them.  I thought for a second or two, artistic considerations my only concern (sometimes my mind takes little detours) and then, making a decision, I removed her boots, ankle restraints then hold ups making sure my hands travelled slowly down her legs as I did so.  Naked, the first time is always so uniquely special, it is a shame how familiarity can diminish the beautiful sometimes - much too deep – maybe tis the fault of Metallica’s ‘Nothing Else Matters’ which is now playing.  No tattoos, no body piercings, (maybe I can add a piece of jewellery so she will never forget me) a tiny scar above her right knee, cunt, now swollen and pink, clean shaven, her skin red with a few subtle marks remaining from the flogging. Worshipping indeed, it is a good thing she wears a blindfold.  I stand and, taking her hand, pull her away from the wall, “Time to turn around,” I say, “Wait”  I leaned a 10 foot piece of wood, 10 inches wide by 2inches thick, against the flogging wall where she had been standing and then placed her hand on it, “Lean on this, it will hold your weight do not worry. It is best if you rest your head on your hands as this get your arms away from the flogger’s tails”  I caressed her back with my nails, leaving swirlling marks in her skin, “I have 2 toys like the ones you have felt, then others that are more severe, twin tailed straps in leather and rubber and then whips and for your arse I have paddles and a horse crop. You may be surprised how much you will like your back being flogged but I would hate for your front to feel left out”  Resting my weight against the full length of her body, crushing her against the hard wood, I reached around to attach a butterfly clamp to her right nipple and she cried out a little, which was pleasing, as it bit. I attached the other to her left nipple and said, “There is a chain between them, do not pull away from the wood or you will not enjoy the result.”  ‘Big Sister’ is a flogger with 12 plaited, leather tails about 36inch in total length, I stood behind her and, again using the typical figure 8 action, began to touch her skin, very gently to start and at a slow speed too.  Building up speed and strength over a couple of minutes she began to make sweet music of sighs and little cries, the tails hit with delicious sharp sounds of their own as I began to punctuate the pattern of swings by sending much stronger whip like flicks at her arse, which, soon made her tense her muscles in anticipation of the next strike.I laid this toy down and picked up my purple and black Cougar (a longer 12 tail leather cat with 4in leather thongs at each tail end). I began again using this new toy in the same place and in the same pattern but then moved to my left, continuing to hit as I moved.  Once I stood level with her shoulder and about a stride from her I changed the way I used the Cougar. I now brought it down in single strokes, striking from shoulder blade to shoulder blade and moving down her back to her arse using much more strength especially when connecting, horizontally, on her reddening arse cheeks.  I could see her face as I stuck, and with each hit her teeth bit into her bottom lip. I said, continuing to hit, “Your choice, 12 hard strokes to upper back or arse?” she did not reply for a couple of seconds so I added, “And then I will take the clamps of your nipples.”  “Bum” she replied so I hit her hard on her shoulders and said “Bum, what”  “Bum, Sir” she said quickly after a gasp  “I was expecting a ‘please’, but Sir will do.” And then added, “count them as I hit in case I forgot how many and have to start again.”  She did as was told and by the time she got to 12 her voice was shaking as the strikes had gotten harder, “Good girl,“ I said and throwing the Cougar onto my bag I rubbed her back running hands over slight welts in her skin. Standing behind her I kneeded her arse for half a minute to ease the sting and then moved to kneel by her head.  “A new sensation now, what fun this will be.” I could see her face react as she tried to work out what I meant, “Your sweet, poor, tortured nipple hurt when the clamp went on but now is almost bearable. But when I take it off, new blood with rush back in, nerves will awaken and you will have an experience to file away and fear for the next time. Rubbing it will greatly ease the pain but do not rub it until I say you can.”  I held the clamp and because I am a sadist I twisted it first with a gentle tug, she squealed loudly, “Sorry little one, I just wanted to make sure you remember my words.” I pushed and the clamp opens, her nipple sticking to it for a second before coming free.  Her mouth opened and she sucked air in in gasps as the pain returned to her pink flesh, it was still flattened from the clamp’s pressure and I waited for a count of 5 then said, “You may rub it now.”  Quickly her right hand reached under her and he caressed her breast and nipple, a most rewarding sight. I let this go on for a short time still holding the removed clamp.  “Now then, time to repeat this joy. You get a choice.” I released my hold on the removed clamp and it swung down freely to tug gently on her other nipple, another squeal; being a sadist is fun indeed.  “You can give me a reward, for all my kind attention, and rub your nipple straight away or you must count 60 seconds before I let you rub after it comes off.”  In a most sweet and quiet voice she asked, “What reward, Sir?”  I stood and stepped slightly forward so my leather trousers just touched her upper arm.  ”You can open your mouth.”  “I don’t think I can count to 60, Sir, so the reward is wiser.” I noticed she was smiling and as I pulled down my zip I said, “I must be doing something wrong if you are still smiling. Open.”  I slipped my prick into her hot mouth and, leaning over her, put my left hand between her shoulder blades ready to release the remaining clamp. I closed my eyes as her head began to move and I felt her suck and bite on my, most entertained, cock. “Let me know when you want the clamp off and I will quickly remove it for you to ease the pain”.  Her left hand had found its way between my legs and was holding my left thigh, gently pulling me towards her in time with her head movements. Her right hand she lifted and laid, palm up, on her back, I thought, so I had easy access to the remaining clamp.  After a very pleasing minute or two she took her mouth off me and said ‘now’ and returned to my ‘reward’. Reaching over I pressed in the clamp and pulled it off dropping them to the floor. I heard, and felt on my prick, her squeal as she sucked harder on me taking my prick to the back of her throat, her left hand pulling me in and holding me there though her right hand did not leave her back.  Her squeal became a mauling sound as her body began to shiver and only after about 30 seconds did her right hand finally move and I saw her massaging her right breast. I may be a Dom and a sadist but this sight, with this ‘attention, was too much (I am a male after all) so I pulled myself from her mouth and looked at the ceiling for a few seconds. This only just did its purpose as once my prick was out of her mouth the sounds she then made, as her orgasm came and diminished, could have deflowered a priest.  Fighting an almost overpowering desire to put my prick back in to her, anywhere in her, I finally put it back in my trousers and pulled up my zip – will power, such a pain in the arse at times.  I went to my bag and found my leg spreader, a 10mm bar of mild steel I had fashioned a few years before in the heat of a furnace - not unlike the forging of a new submissive I thought to myself. I found myself kneeling at her feet again as I replaced her ankle restraints and then secured these to the spreader bar, forcing her legs 30 inches apart. I made the mistake of looking up, and the sight of her open and inviting cunt almost made me change my mind about where I had put my prick.  There is a metal securing bolt at the top of the plank of wood so moving to stand by her head I took her hands and tied them to it so she was stretched along the wood’s length.  “The toys from now on will be much more intense?” I said. “I will use each for a minute or so but with each change they will get a little harsher. You already have pretty marks on your skin but these toys will leave better ones that will last for a few days, shall I begin?”  “Yes, My Demon.” she whispered and I saw her grip the ropes that tied her hands.  I take a red and black leather flog with twin, 8 inch, tails and began it strike her back, moving around her, watching her muscles twitch as the stinging leather hit, from neck to arse, leaving growing welts on her skin.  I hit with a constant strength as I moved from her left side to her right and back again until I was back at my starting position where I took a step closer to her and, reaching, sent the tails around her ribs to contact with her softly hanging breast. Her back arched and she screamed in a short feral explosion.  I dropped the flogger and, as she clenched her teeth, grabbed the hurt breast and squeezed it in my fist, “If you are expecting one thing the unexpected is so much better.” I said changing my hold on her flesh and rolling the nipple between thumb and finger.  I saw a tear appear under her blindfold so asked, “Do I continue, you remember the word to end this?”  I could see her think and then she said, “I remember but I don’t know, I think, I think I want to say stop.”  “ok, I will continue with a different sensation, use the word when you know you are sure about ending things.”  I untied her hands, along with one end of the spreader bar then said, helping her stand up, “I just need you to turn around and lay back on the wood.”  She was a little shaky as she stood so putting my arm around her I held her tight. As I did this her head lifted up so I kissed her and was pleasantly surprised as her tongue forced its way into my mouth. The kiss continued and my hand found its way between her legs and a single finger entered her gently slipping in and out as she lifted her left leg to give me easier excess.  “Enough.” I said removing my finger and mouth from her body, I helped her back onto the sloping wood and again tied her hands high above her head, to the securing bolt, I then secured the spreader bar between the ankle restraints under the wood. The bar has a loop at midpoint and to this I tied a length of rope, the other end I tied to the flogging wall, pulling her feet back under her arse and lifting her cunt high as her hips where pulled wide due to the width of the plank.  I sat on the chair I had used earlier and took off my boots and then trousers. I found a condom and with a little concentration, put it on then selected a horse crop, which had two short leather tails about 2 inches long, and moved to stand at the foot of the wood plank.  With small, sharp movements of my wrist I sent the tails across her nipples, first one then the other, hitting 10 or 12 times in a staccato rhythm then changing the target to hit once between her legs, on soft pink lips which stood, unexpectantly, open. I repeated this 3 or 4 times until I judged I had risked enough and she had had enough.  I moved to stand by her side and, while I stroked her body from nipple to inner thigh, I whispered in her ear, “Some do not think fucking is part of BDSM so I shall ask if you wished to be fucked before I do it as part of this experience.”  “Yes, Sir,” She said with a small smile. “or, Yes Please if you prefer.”  I untied her hands and she let her arms hang down at her side as I lifted my right leg over the plank so my prick was an inch or two from her and said, “Do not be cheeky, little one, you are still tied and just because I will be fucking you does not mean it will be the only sensation you will have  I inched forward and, pushing down on the end of my prick I slowly move inside her and like a good girl she pushed herself deeper onto me. I stood still, prick buried in warmth, and using the crop’s leather tails drew sensual trails across her skin from nipple to nipple to navel to clit and back again. Within a minute she raised her hands and held them again my hips as she began to move on my prick, drawing herself off and then pushing down to rub her clit against my groin as I stood immobile, her breathing began to get faster and, as her nails began to dig in, I saw the growing need she had for me to move inside her. Realising the moment had arrived I rested the crop across her belly and, putting a hand on each of her breasts, leaned down to kiss her ear.  My full weight was pressing down on her, crushing nipples against ribs through the flesh of her breasts. I thrust into her, my movement, adding more pressure and pain, caused her to groan loudly, “I will fuck you for as long as you stand the pain.” I whispered and, pushing myself up on to straight arms, continued to fuck her going as deep and fast as her mirrowing movements allowed.  My breathing was becoming fast as she placed her hands over mine and I saw her dig her nails deep into the soft flesh of her breasts between my fingers, ‘that is unexpected’ I thought to myself and took my left hand away to see what she would do.  Her hands squeezed and twisted her flesh, raking her nails across her erect nipple leaving lines as red as those I had given from my flogging.  “Harder.” A single word, she said, between gasping breathes as she reached for my left hand.  Making my hands into fists I pressed my knuckles into her breasts as her hands returned to my hips.  I fucked and forced my weight onto her as a building pain built in my hips under her hands, looking down I saw a bright red drop of blood on my skin, red lines, from this dear girl’s nails, mirroring her own marks; a small price to pay  I did not think I would be able to make her cum, or decide to stop this pain, before I came but suddenly her head thrashed from side to side and the raking of my skin stopped. She made no sound, did not breathe as her fingers spread wide and muscles moved in slow waves under the tight skin of her stomach.  I came a second later and, fighting the mix of pain and pleasure in the tip of my prick, continued to thrust into her until her movements calmed down.  A second’s pause, heart pounding, breathing trying to fill my lungs, vision clearing from an unnoticed unfocused gaze, I stand and let my prick die a little inside her.  I grasped the wood plank on either side of her neck and, leaning down, kiss her lightly on the lips. I gently removed the blindfold and threw it onto the floor.  Her eyes remain closed as I pushed myself up to stand looking down at her – fuck she was beautiful.  Her eyes opened slightly, they shine, a small smile comes to her lips and letting her arms fall to her side she closes her eyes again as the smile grows bigger.  Sadly, oh so very sadly, I pull myself out of her and stepping over the wooden plank sit down on the chair because my legs are shaking in a most entertaining fashion.  We stayed like that for about 5 minutes, her smiles, fading then bursting out bigger than before as the minutes pass.  I pulled on my trousers, discarding the condom into a bin, but remained barefooted as I moved to her shackled feet. I knelt down - I seemed to always be on my knees in front of her – and unbuckled the nearest restraint. Reaching under the plank I finally managed to unbuckle the other and, as if by magic, found myself within reach of her glistening cunt.  Like the nice Dom I am I lowered my head and, after one long, slow lick, bit gently into her soft pick lips, she tasted sweet, naturally and with a hint of strawberry from my used condom.  After a few seconds I stood going to her side to help her stand but as I got close she reached out and put the fingers of her left hand in to my unzipped trousers. I stopped and she pulled out my prick and, with a gentle tug, she led me back to her mouth, slow and gentle this time she held me with soft licks and sucks.  With eyes closed, her right hand moved slowly to go between her legs, with slow strokes, she put two fingers inside her.  I am old, but luckily not that old, for as I watched and felt her actions my prick came back to life. I took in what she was doing and let myself react as my body wished with no attempt at self control.  With a full prick in her mouth her fingers moved faster and, again, erotic moans began to come from her mouth vibrating on my shaft.  “I am going to cum.” I said giving her time to withdraw her mouth, if she wished, but she sucked as before and her fingers gained speed and strength adding wet sounds to my already stimulated senses.  I had to grab, with equal strength and need, the plank for balance and her hair to pull her on to me as I came in four strong spasms. She sucked, swallowed and bit as I came and I could not stop a cry cascade from my lips which went, something like, ”fffuuucckkkking jeeeeeeesus fucking Christ” as I tried to pierce the back of her skull with my softening prick.  As I died again, this time in her mouth, she gently sucked and licked until after a minute or so she took her mouth away, looked up at me and said with a smile, “Hello, Demon, my name’s Amy.”  The End - i think?

i just miss him so much and all I want to do is make things right between us again. I know there's alwasy a reason behind everything he does, but I have thought of all that I think it could be this time. I've admitted my wrongs, sat with his words and mulled them over extensively, and examined my behavior over the last few weeks. I've given him space the last week aside from updating him on the necessary and important things he absolutely should know, and still, not a word in response. I'm at a loss as to how to resolve this without communication and for that, he has to be willing to respond, to talk. Many would say this is not right for him to do, and I only half agree. The fuck up was mine. Entirely. I just have no idea how to prove to him that I'm sorry and intend to work on improvements and growth. It also saddens me that he has not so much as seemed at all troubled by our lack of contact. Though, I don't know this for certain, but how do you go so long with no contact with your slave if you love them as much as you say you do, and want them just as much? I'm doubting a lot lately, and losing more and more hope as the days pass.  I won't give up, though. I am his, forever. Whether he considers me his anymore or not. I just wish he would tell me, either way. Even if he still needs more time, I just want to know I am still his if I am. And I want to know if I'm not, if I'm not.  I feel like I'm in limbo, a state of purgatory. Banished from even learning my fate. It's painful. It's agonizing. It feels cruel and confusing. And it doesn't feel particularly safe, though with him, as his, I feel perfectly safe. But in this space of frozen in time, hanging limp from fated thread, I am scared. Terrified that it may be over. I've broken so many times since we last spoke. And I'm still breaking. Every fracture piercing the deepest depths of me. The knowledge that I caused this for myself? Makes his last words to me sting all the more: Enjoy the misery you bring on yourself. 

Lets talk about self care, skin care and smelling beautiful, sexy for my man  Morning Routine: Cleansing: I start my day with a mild cleanser to freshen up my face. It’s essential to remove any impurities that may have settled overnight. Toning: After cleansing, I use a soothing toner. This helps in balancing the skin's pH and prepares it for the next steps. Moisturizing: A good moisturizer keeps my skin soft and supple throughout the day. Since I have a preference for girly and feminine things, I always opt for moisturizers that have a subtle feminine fragrance. Sunscreen: Living in Texas, it's vital to protect my skin from the sun. I always wear sunscreen with SPF 30 or more. This also helps in preventing premature aging. Evening Routine: Double Cleansing: After a day at the law firm and the occasional weekend beautician work, it’s crucial to get rid of all the makeup, dirt, and sweat. I start with an oil-based cleanser followed by a water-based one. Exfoliation (twice a week): I exfoliate to get rid of dead skin cells. This helps my skin breathe and feel smooth. Toning: Rebalances my skin. Night Cream: I use a night cream that's a bit richer than my day moisturizer. It helps in the skin's rejuvenation process overnight. Eye Cream: To keep those under-eye areas hydrated and reduce the appearance of fine lines. Waxing and Hair Removal: Waxing: Twice a month, I get a full-body wax. It not only removes hair but also exfoliates, leaving the skin smooth. Post-Wax Care: After waxing, I use a soothing aloe vera gel to calm any inflammation. Nair Hair Removal Cream: About a week after waxing, if there's any regrowth, I use Nair to get rid of those pesky hairs. Its fragrance leaves my skin smelling beautiful and feeling silky smooth. Scent Secrets: Sensual Perfumes: I have a collection of perfumes that I adore. Each morning, choosing one is like selecting the right outfit. I enjoy scents that are a mix of floral and musk as they exude femininity and sensua

Ich + Ich - So soll es bleiben   Ich warte schon so langeAuf den einen MomentIch bin auf der SucheNach hundert ProzentWann ist es endlich richtigWann macht es einen SinnIch werde es erst wissenWenn ich angekommen bin Ich will sagenSo soll es seinSo kann es bleibenSo hab ich es mir gewünschtAlles passt perfekt zusammenWeil endlich alles stimmtUnd mein Herz gefangen nimmt Wenn es da ist, werd ich feiernIch weiß, da ist noch mehrEs liegt noch so viel vor mirIch lauf noch hinterherBis jetzt fühl ich nur die HälfteVon allem, was gehtIch muss noch weitersuchenWeil immer noch was fehlt Ich will sagen:So soll es seinSo kann es bleibenSo hab ich es mir gewünschtAlles passt perfekt zusammenWeil endlich alles stimmtUnd mein Herz gefangen nimmt Ich weiß nicht, wo du bistOder wo du wohnstAber eins ist sicherDass es sich lohntIch bete jede NachtDass ich dich finde Und du sagstSo soll es seinSo kann es bleibenSo hab ich es mir gewünschtAlles passt perfekt zusammenWeil endlich alles stimmt So soll es seinSo kann es bleibenGenau so ist es gutAlles passt perfekt zusammenWeil endlich alles in mir ruht Yeah...Oh...Yeah...Oh...Yeah... So soll es seinSo kann es bleibenSo hab ich es mir gewünschtAlles passt perfekt zusammenWeil endlich alles stimmtUnd mein Herz gefangen nimmt    

Who are You? Ladies,   Do not be afraid to call it out:  Manipulation-- Had a conversation with another dominant.  We're both romantic and,sapiosexual.  In the morning he wishedme "good morning." The next thing I knew, he wrote ,"if thats all it meant to you"   Yeah, that totally manipulative.  We had a conversation.  You didn't cross the Mason Dixon and save me from slavery.  Fantasy conversation: Homeboy starting talking about his cruise and staying a few day to spend time with me.   Who are you and what are you talking about about? Drive Thru Order: I want a woman to peg me.  (Has no clue who you are,but thinks you're a menu item.) There are a few ways to respond.  1) This isn't a drive thru.  Otherwise, you'd be  paying for your Happy Meal at window 2.  2) People in Hell want ice water.  Are you volunteering?. Home delivery:  Dude asked if I traveled to Vegas. "Yes, I travel, but I don't deliver.  I'm not pizza.  Call Uber Eats for front door delivery.      

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.    

16 years I've been on this site, almost to the day.  Probably longer than that because I'm not sure this was my first profile.  And before that, I was on other similar sites all the way back to the beginning of the internet, and the old bulletin boards.  And before the internet, yes, I am that old, the bdsm magazines and underground classifieds.  I search, sometimes for years because I have very high standards and there are a lot of haystacks and very few needles in the bdsm world, until I find someone, then I go away.  Unfortunately none of those relationships have been forever, though they were each wonderful in their own way, and I guess I am blessed that each ended on good terms.  My last relationship ended 3 years ago.  I am here, on FL, a few other web sites, and on a bunch of the dating apps.  I have a lot to offer, both bdsm and vanilla.  No, I'm not a sugar daddy.  I'm happy to share.  Supporting a lazy deadbeat isn't in the cards.  If you don't have enough pride to contribute to your own lifestyle, you don't have enough pride to be with me.  I'm seeking a woman who is highly intelligent, who possesses and values integrity, is trustworthy and able to trust when her trust has been earned.  And of course, who desires a long term, real life, 24 7 relationship built around a core of bdsm.  Also should be at least a bit of a geek to insure we have vanilla interests in common. Everything else is negotiable.  You have my permission to contact me first if you think we might be compatible. Please be willing to video chat immediately for both of our safety.

On having no experience... My preference would be a partner with some level of real life experience. That being said, if you don't have a lot of experience, it's your job to properly educate yourself.  I'm not sure why so many male submissives think it's attractive to approach a FemDom and say, "I have no experience, but am eager to have you teach me and mold me." Personally, I find it lazy and an instant turnoff.  It's the same fantasy-induced fever dream, over and over again. I've spent 18 years in the lifestyle and when I first started out, I spent quite a bit of time learning and honing My skills.  Subs and slaves who want to be taken seriously do the same. There are several excellent books to start with for basic training skills. If you're on FL, I highly suggest following slave underscore mission. he's got ninety or so journal entries and it's a great way for any beginner to find a place to start. Beyond that, there are classes, workshops, snack and learns...seminars; etc.  Bottom line, if you want an experienced and educated FemDom, you're either going to need real life experience or be able to show that you've taken considerable time and effort to learn the basics. Of course, once under consideration to become Mine, I would train you to suit My specific needs. But it's the difference between training runners for a marathon who have only done a 5k vs trying to train people who can barely walk a mile. 

Master's WritingsCategorizing Levels of SubmissionOthers, in an attempt to categorize submissives, have described submissives by the levels of their submission, moving from role play to slave, while others suggest there are distinct categories of submission, where the motivation behind one’s submission drives their role such as for fantasy, relationship and/or fetish. Acknowledging that all submissives are different and any such categories could only apply in the loosest of terms, I find both model instructive in its own way, yet somehow missing the mark in some aspaspects.The creators of both models clearly identified that each individual submissive is unique and comes to their submission and depth of submission in their own way for their own purpose. And to this, I completely agree. Yet we are humans and we live to label things, so I will offer my own model, recognizing full well that mine too will fall short of describing all submissives and their motivations. I would also note that what I suggest here may have already been put forth. If so, I offer this only as my own ideas without the knowledge of their contribution to our body of knowledge. Thus I would offer a third model for consideration and discussion.I see it more a kin to the structure of Maslow‘s hierarchy of needs, Where Maslow identifies our most basic needs, moving from basic survival to self-actualization, I see submissions moving from role play to self-realization. The model I put forth is as follows:     Role play. A connection to the role based on whatever preconceptions or second hand knowledge they may have. While one might act the part, they have no emotional or mental connection to the role.     Exploration. The beginning stages of submissive awareness where thru trial and error or training, real experiences begin the development of a connection to a submissive’s awareness and one's submissive self. This level usually includes an over indulgence or over compensation of doing what they think a sub "should do".     Connection. The birth of inner connectedness to one’s submissive self, and the realization of what it feels like to give of one’s self to another. Hallmarked by a greater sense of self awareness, a growing identity as a submissive and a struggling to reconcile their submissive life with their vanilla life.     Identity and Belonging. The inner awareness and shift of self-identity as a submissive or having submissive side (as in a switch), as a genuine and acknowledged part of their persona. While they may not share this openly with others, inwardly there is a growing conviction that being a submissive is core to their being. While connection can occur at any stage, at this stage, connection to a Dominant becomes more essential to allow for further growth.     Confidence. As identity as a submissive grows and self-esteem relating to the role increases, their confidence of self grows. The focus can now be more inward to understand their submissive needs, who they are as a submissive, and the beginning of blending their submissive self into their vanilla life and identity.     Self-Realization and Connectedness to their Id. Full acceptance of their new identity, as submission is fully integrated into their sense of self. Submission can now fuel their lives and relationships with greater meaning and richer experiences as they fully integrate their submissive-self into their vanilla life. Not every submissive will reach or choose to reach this level. I would welcome comments and ideas for the improvement of this model if others see value in it. 

The picture for the following scene deion next week shows the soles of My shoes and a call bell in My hand.   I have just returned from walking on a very popular board walk along puget sound. The only problem with this wonderful stroll is the filth left by dogs on the boards.    People love to walk their dogs where they can also enjoy the vista of sound and mountains. However, people do not love to clean up after their animals.    Now I am home. As anyone can see I have rang the hand bell to call my slave.    Does the reader consider itself a slave? If so, the above view is what it gets when it answers the bell on its knees as it should. Looking up it sees the soles of my shoes.    Tell Me, slave, how does it feel looking up?    Is it hesitant? 

Let’s contemplate the issue of energy when it come to sex among equals. As a rule nature is perceived as male and female, positive and negative, dry and wet, light and dark, cold hot; you get the idea. However if we add to these categories the fact that there are many ways in which these elements can manifest it becomes apparent that in nature these concepts are very fluid. There are many ways in which gender is conceptualize by cultures and more varied indeed is the manner in which gender roles are characterized. When it comes to love among equal genders these categories manifest but from the standpoint of strength which is the value of the male realm. Passive, submissive, or any other adjectives given to the bottom are but description of how the male strength choses to emerge in a male/male relationship; the same way when we use other adjectives to characterize tops. Any word and denomination is constraining and the truth is that there are many ways to be a bottom and many ways to be a top and the fluidity of these energies are always in a state of flux.  As a rule the male strength is always present regardless of the role we play in an intimate relationship. The strength and force of a male grip either using the hand, the mouth the anus, or the phallus is still a manifestation of that universal force that permeates all of us as we engage each other’s energy within the chosen role. That is a point of departure; there can not be a top without a bottom or vice versa. It is as I said before the natural order of things. No one can denny the fact that we are relating our energies in a sexual encounter as a male to male proposition but in a different degree of intensity which makes the encounter fulfilling and meaningful. The organs involved speak to the degree of energy engaged and no one can forget the fact that there is a male exchange of energies which is mutually fulfilling when done right.

There's this man I know. He says he's not a nice guy. He listens intently to me ramble. When I apologize for it, he tells me not to because I like telling him things, and he enjoys that. There's this man I know. He says he's selfish. I've sent him cute things, naughty things. He never asks for them. He says he'll never pressure me, and appreciates when I do things of my own accord. There's this man I know. He says he's got an unquenchable thirst. I used to lay out opportunities that he'd reject. He says as much as he finds me attractive, there's a reason we've been friends for so long, and he likes having me around. There's this man I know. He says he's dark. I've told him all my insecurities. He's seen my lowest points, seen me spiral out, make terrible decisions. He's never made me feel ashamed. He's never kept them as leverage against me. He makes every bad step I take seem so incredibly small. There's this man I know. He says he's cold. His praises are detailed and specific. He says he's proud of me and that I should be proud, too. There's this man I know. He says he's uncaring. He once kept me company an entire day while I was unwell, just to help distract me from it. He barely knew me. There's this man I know. He says he's a bad man. He's honest. He's kind. He's funny. He's doting. He's patient. He's always on my side.  He's a good man, and I'm grateful to know him.

The Lighthouse Within: Illuminating Love and Power in Dynamic Union I never knew a lo-, lo-, lo-, love like this Gotta be special for me to write this i tweaked this song with a higher pitch and a faster beat to really get into a deeper and more fulfilling emotional space than the song was. however, i am moving most of my platforms to something more professional ish and don't want to deal with the copyright. just know if you pitch it up and move it to a faster speed it's a different experience that is. beyonce's voice sounds more childish, impish, and little girl ish. a emotional and mental state i can resonate with more fully as an adult and little girl. the jayz voice sounds more of a stronger timber and more of a high hit on the drum sound....something more direct and focused and intentional and intense. the sounds in the background that are celebratory sound grander. the piano sounds angelic and full of joy, uplifting, something literally awesome. awe·some /ˈôsəm/ adjective extremely impressive or daunting; inspiring great admiration, apprehension, or fear. something other wordly, something in the clouds, something more expansive than earth ever can be. Uh, uh, uh This (uh, uh) is (uh, uh), ouu! Cash, hit deposit, 24-carat faucets Louis V and Goyard trunks all in the closet Ain't shit change, the streets is still watching And my little baby Blue is like, "Who gon' stop us, huh?" Ain't no way to stop this love, ain't no space if everything is love Representing for my hustlers all across the world (still) Still dippin' in my low-lows, girl! (still) I put it down for the 713 and we still got love for the streets (ow!) We played it cool at the pool of the Cancun, VMA Confidence you exude make the fools stay away Me, I played the room, let the fools have they say Fate had me sitting next to you on the plane And I knew straight away, uh The next time we would speak was like two years away You had a man, you shut it down until you two had a break I bet that dude rued the day You kept me up on the phone while you were away You came back, I let you set the date, Nobu on the plate I brought my dude to play it cool, my first foolish mistake Cash, hit deposit, 24-carat faucets Louis V and Goyard trunks all in the closet Ain't shit change, the streets is still watching And my little baby Blue is like "Who gon' stop us, huh?" Ain't no way to stop this love, ain't no space if everything is love I'm representing for my hustlers all across the world (still) Still dippin' in my low-lows, girl! (still), I put it down for the 713 And we still got love for the streets (ow!) I never knew a lo-, lo-, lo-, love like this Gotta be special for me to write this Queen, I ain't mean no disrespect But the way I network, it's hard for me to connect My first time in the ocean went exactly as you'd expect Meanwhile, you going hard, jumping off the top deck A leap of faith, I knew I was up next I never told you, but I told a few people we wed Me, I'm off to Rome, you going back home instead My first time in my life a live nigga felt dead You came back, I had to act like it was cool in my head Thoughts of jumping the broom, a player never been swept Cash, hit deposit, 24-carat faucets Louis V and Goyard trunks all in the closet Ain't shit change, the streets is still watching And my little baby Blue is like "Who gon' stop us, huh?" I'm representing for my hustlers all across the world (still) Still dippin' in my low-lows, girl! (still), I put it down for the 713 And we still got love for the streets (ow!) To all the good girls that love hustlers To the mothers that put up with us To all the babies that suffered cause us We only know love because of ya this song talks about still being from where you are from. the 713. this song doesn't need to be decoded as deep as others. it's a tale of two bodacious bombastic people. i see it in the daddy dominant and little girl personality and identities. strong, powerful, like greek gods in sculptures running the world. pushing the line between safe and da

Master's Writings Fundamentals: What Turns You on is Good & The Struggle Against Social Norms Far too often I find individuals hung up on their internal permission to lean into what turns them on. They’ve discovered this or that excites them, but due to baggage from social norms, upbringing, or who knows what prior learning or pressures they experienced in their lives, they struggle to allow themself the space or freedom to explore this desire more fully. It tends to lurk in the realm of things taboo, and frequently causes them feelings of shame, guilt, or a need to closet this part of themself off from the world and hide. I was chatting with a submissive the other day, who was struggling with a kink, they clearly found exciting, but felt immense guilt each time they approached it. They were essentially stuck in this tug of war between internal acceptance and desire fulfillment of this new found pleasure. This causing significant anguish emotionally as well as guilt for liking this new thing but knowing it was “wrong” somehow. As a person and as a submissive, they were seriously struggling with this both as a person and as a submissive. I believe there are some fundamentals that I believe are core to this conversation, both for them as well as for others who struggle similarly: Note: I will preface all of the following thoughts with the limitation that I am referring to pleasures, fetishes, kinks and actions that are consensual and safe for all involved.   Life is short, enjoy it however you can. I recognize this is a hedonistic view of things but life can be hard at times, I believe we should find pleasure and enjoy it wherever we can. What feels good, turns you on and brings you joy should be enjoyed. Pleasure is a very personal experience and as is the internal permission to allow yourself to enjoy the sensation. Seek out those pleasurable things and allow yourself to let them bring you happiness. Life is short. What turns you on is good and Social Norms are just other people’s opinion. Regardless of what that is. If it floats your boat, its a good thing. Never let anyone else tell you its not. Most of us were brought up with social stigmas around sex, gender, nakedness, and so on. We were taught by parents, church, media what is what is evil or wrong. Social norms, prejudices, stigmas, and things designated as taboo are passed on by others. We are brought up believing them and because of that, they hold power over us and they are hard to shake off. Yet, I believe, so long as it does not impact another person, you and you alone have the right to determine what is right and good for you. You hold solvency over your mind, will, and body. As soon as you can see feelings of wrongness, taboo, or evil, as opinions conveyed to you by others. As soon as you begin thinking, evaluating and choosing for yourself what is right, good and pleasurable, you will be ready to embrace “what turns you on is good”, and you will be open to far more than you could imagine. The journey of self discovery is an essential one. I believe discovering what you like and why you like it, is one of the beautiful journeys we get to experience as we enter the lifestyle. If we can maintain an open mind, open heart, and free ourself from feelings of guilt, shame, self judgment as we take this journey, we can learn more than we ever thought we could about who we are in life. There is an entire world out there of kinks, fetishes, aspaspects and combinations that may excite you, intrigue you, turn you on, or turn you off. Discovering these is a beautiful journey that goes far deeper than whether or not you like a thing. Understanding the why and the how, exploring what it is about a thing that speaks to you, brings a deeper understanding of who you are in ways you could never imagine. Learning Acceptance for others builds acceptance of self. As we discover our own likes and dislikes, we learn that what turns you on is not always what turns others on. Accepting ourself and our own personal preferences requires us to embrace the idea that YKINMKBYKIOK (Your Kink Is Not My Kink But Your Kink Is OK). Here in the lifestyle community, we don’t judge, don’t condemn, or shame what others enjoy, just as we would never want to be judged, condemned, or shamed for what we like. The vanilla world is full of instances of non-acceptance and persecution, but not here. Accepting others perspectives and desires as different than your own, helps you find acceptance for yourself, and is a powerful thing. When you can step outside yourself to see the struggle and understand it for why and why it is, you will be able to free yourself to understand yourself deeper and truly explore. To this submissive I spoke to, and others why may read this, I wish you a healthy, positive, and guilt free journey in the lifestyle. I hope you can embrace your pleasures fully and allow yourself to revel in them. As someone wise once told me, when you discover your “Freak Flag”, that truth you’ve found about yourself, Waive it high and proudly.

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!

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

 acronymboy