It was a mixture of arousal, curiosity and his final reassurance that made her mind up. She knew she could say ‘Stop’ and he would, though that could be permanent, it was an instinctive decision that made her move towards the lift and later she realised why she made it. There was a logical progression to it. She was a stubborn person with a rebellious streak and a free will who made her own decisions and didn’t blame others when they went awry. Here she was reigning in her rebellious streak of her own free will and her natural instincts reinforced this. Her stubbornness would make her comply with what she wanted in this regard, even though it seemed counterintuitive.  Now it was a rush to the receptionist’s desk to get a pen, the envelope was already open and had the room number written on it. The contract was one piece of A4 paper and the male receptionist must have seen the bold type headline which stated ‘SUBMISSIVE’S CONTRACT’. She didn’t have time to read it all, her instinct told her that he would not put anything in it that he had not said. And what would be the point as it was a symbolic act, not a contract that could be legally enforced.  She hurried the short distance to the lift; the concierge seemed to have anticipated her need and he had pressed the button, she momentarily wondered if he knew. Once inside she selected the 4th floor. Her heart missed a beat when just before the doors closed a woman stepped into the lift causing the doors to recycle again and they selected the 3rd floor; she knew this would delay her further. She willed the lift to move faster but still almost in two minds about what she was doing, but she wanted to be the decision-maker on this and not subject to an arbitrary cut off due to time. Her pride ensured she used the time to check her hair and lipstick in the mirror as she would not countenance the thought he would not find her attractive.  The lift reached the 4th floor and according to the large sign room 417 was to the right, she almost ran, nearly tripping over her heels on the thick carpet.  The door to room 417 was slightly ajar, and a ‘do not disturb’ sign was hanging on the handle. She stood for a second or two to let her breathing steady, it seemed to take ages for her hand to travel from to the door, her knock was timid and her stomach almost jumped as she heard the noise her hand made.  A firm reply was forthcoming a few seconds later. ‘Come in Joanna’. She swallowed, took a deep breath and gripping the envelope, pushed the door open and whilst trying to look calm she stepped inside and the door closed with an almost imperceptible click.  The room was warm and gently lit from the lamp above the desk he was sitting at. His jacket was over the back of his chair and the few papers he was attending too were lying about.  Nonplussed for a moment she stood there waiting for some sort of guidance, she knew what she had to do but some sort of signal from him seemed essential.  He understood, or knew, and stood before quietly saying, ‘Come here Joanna’. It was about 4 steps and he stood almost impassively as she greeted him properly. Her arms went around his waist and she pressed herself against him until he said that she could stop. This time it seemed natural and gave a moment when she could do something that seemed familiar and that she was in control of. It also served to break some of her tension before she stepped back ready to kneel. Kneeling seemed a strange and almost alien act; she had been on her knees in front of a man before, but then she was in control of him, she forcibly overcame her rebellious streak and found it disappeared almost entirely.  Her eyes cast down she noticed her knees were together, it seemed inappropriate so she moved them further apart. Taking a larger breath she looked down at his feet and with the envelope in both hands, she held it up to him.  He didn’t seem to move for ages, and then he took it from her hands. He checked her signature was on the contract before placing it amongst the other papers on the desk. This was a small action, however, it made her realise that she had voluntarily signed this part of herself over to him. He had taken possession and she was now his.  He turned the chair to face her and sat on it.  She was on her knees only a few feet from a man she had just given her submission to in writing, she was no longer so nervous, it was now anticipation mixed with exhilaration and her senses were alive! She was now free to be what he decided. He leant forward and lifted her chin with his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look him in the eyes, ‘Joanna, you are now mine’ he said quietly.  After a pause during which he just looked at her he then continued ‘The photography will wait until tomorrow as there are a few matters from earlier today I will address straight away.’ He wasn’t asking for a reply, he told her to stand and rest her elbows on the desk. She was a little taken aback, whilst earlier considering what might happen this evening she thought he might just photograph her. In a way that would be easier to contemplate, she could understand it would be a reasonable first private meeting, however, she knew it would disappoint her.  But now he was going to ‘Address some matters’ and that sounded ominous, it made the butterflies in her stomach come alive again. She did as asked, putting her elbows on the desk. He told her to arch her spine downwards, this meant she was bent over much further than she felt comfortable, it made her bottom more pronounced and her skirt was tighter. Her knees flexed as she tried to contain the nerves generated by her bottom being so vulnerable, he ordered her to straighten her legs and keep them so, as it tightened the skin of her buttocks. What he did next was unexpected, he ran his fingers around her neck gathering her hair into his hand at the nape of her neck. He expertly wound it into a ponytail using a band that must have been around his wrist. She now felt even more vulnerable without the usual shield of hair that would normally surround her face. She nervously moved her weight from one foot to another. He told her to spread her legs wider to shoulder width. She glanced up into the mirror above the desk; she could see him standing a few meters behind her, looking at her in a way few men had done. It was not simple lust, his face was almost impassive, she could see he was comfortable looking at the salacious view she presented.  His voice was calm as he told her that she had been disobedient when she broke away from the greeting before she had been told she could, she had also been demanding in their early email exchanges. For these, she was going to have her bottom spanked, he said it would be a ‘cumulative dozen’ and if she made any of these mistakes again it would be a stricter punishment.  He told her to raise her skirt over her back, this unnerved her more, it was one thing to have her skirt lifted, but another to do it herself! She thought she could not, but his curt statement of ‘disobey and I will use a strap instead of my hand’ encouraged her. She rested her forehead on the desk and reaching behind her with both hands she lifted the hem of her skirt until it lay over her back. He then described the view he had of her bottom in very basic language. His description of the way her swollen sex lips bulged into her panties was particularly crude and said with distinctive pleasure.  A short while later he moved to her left side. He reached over her back and pulled her right hip towards him, holding her still by trapping her against his thigh.

Now the summer is over I find I am in demand again spanking single women and couples. from the initial contact to planning a meet and the actual session is very important to me so there is no confusion about me and what I do.  However I find it increasingly annoying that after such preparation , they do not simply turn up , I am accomodating them a lot of the time, but they do not have the courtesy just to say they have changed their mind. As I am a strict , dominant disciplarian, not a BDSM master, they know with me it will revolve around spanking. I am a red blood straight male and I do have sexual needs, but I do not impose these on ladies an dcouples who just want a spanking based experience.  My frustration is that many call themselves submissive , but haven't any good manners or share mutual trust and respect.  I have been spanking for over 35 years, but haven't known it to be like this before. Sorry about my rant I have though had several wonderful encounters in the past couple of weeks and great feedback too from lasses and couples, all shapes and sizes. I do prefer to deal with those 40 and above  as they seem to know what they want from someone like me

Columbus has been feeling… quiet lately. Not in the peaceful sense—more like the kind of silence that comes when there’s a lack of presence. A lack of structure. A lack of men who understand what it means to offer themselves with intention. I’ve been observing more than engaging, and what I see is a pattern—too many who talk about submission, very few who live it with consistency, discretion, and discipline. That’s where my attention has been shifting. I’ve been considering creating something more… curated. A private space designed for those who understand devotion beyond surface-level interaction. Not performative. Not chaotic. Structured, intentional, and centered around real standards. Access would not be given lightly. If you’re the kind of man who needs constant attention, reassurance, or direction just to function—you won’t last. But if you’re composed, self-managed, and understand that true submission is proven in silence just as much as in service… then perhaps you’ll find yourself exactly where you belong. Columbus may be quiet—but I won’t be for long. — Mistress Nikki Vixen

Normal is Weird Normal/typical/average is relative. Normal only exists in comparison, and for anything, there's probably "somewhere" where it's "normal." This is the internet age... there is something for people who share anything in common out there somewhere, and the ability to make it if there isn't. I don't know why people sometimes get an idea of normal in their heads, putting it on a pedestal and elevating it to unattainable levels, constantly comparing and defining themselves in comparison to that concept. Stranger still, why is it that so often those ideas of normal are so damn boring?! Anything really good (or bad), anything exciting or even different at all, wouldn't be "normal." You could only be normal if you were the same as most people around you. Normal seems just some shape/box to contort myself and my life to fit into. That seems like a lot of painful effort for little to no reward. Not to metion how much of it is beyond my control. My dad was 60, my mother 30, when I was born. Totally not normal. Totally beyond my control. Totally fine... great even... they were both wonderful, amazing people who taught me a lot and gave me many happy experiences, and I value happiness. I'd much rather be happy than be normal.

Im Back into feminization, tho it's a tough time and go of it. It's just I have always had this feeling of being born into the wrong gender. Don't get me wrong I'm all male. But I fantasize about what it would be like to be female.  Recently I have out my cock back into chastity. Which I consider my clit and i have purchased an anal diolatar set and have been training my asshole nownmy pussy to strech out. i also have a dilod that I use to penitetrae my pussy on and get use to building up the sensation and tolerance to the friction my pussy can take.  It's hard doing it solo and not having the motivation from another to keep training on a regular basis. Sometimes I hit a wall and don't feel like continuing. It makes me feel more feminine and sissy like. The end goal being only able to cum or orgasm through anal means. While still being locked in chasitity. Currently I'm on day 60 in chastiity and on my 3rd sized diolatar plug. Some times I fall asleep with it still inside me. 

There is a mystical moment when two men meet and sex is in the air. They both know what they want but one is a bottom he may or may not know it. Then there is a moment of hesitation when after looking the object of his desire the hand extends to feel what his body is craving. Still if there is a little presumption of an ill understood machismo that hand moves slowly for what feels like an eternity. After contact caressing the phallus is not sufficient, but how to surrender? Finally, the top takes over, and firmly guides him to acknowledge his place, kneeling; and having the object of his desires close to the parting lips... Sheer poetry, bliss, sweet hesitation, and the ultimate surrender to open his mouth and forgetting the world around devotes his energy to please the object of his desire, his top, who allows the bottom to taste him deep and completely. They are not strangers anymore, the bottom has found his niche in the order of things, kneeling and giving up any pretense of control. From now on his domination is in the hands of his top.  

What is truth?:   In the depths of night, in the light of day, We ponder the truth that won't betray. Is it a fact, or a subtle art, A guiding light, or a shattered part?   Do we seek truth in words we hear, Or in silence, when none is near? Is it a mirror, reflecting clear, Or a whisper, elusive, never near?   In the echo of history, in the depths of time, Do we find truth in prose, or in rhyme? Does it lie in the stars, in the sky above, Or in the beating heart, in the depths thereof?   Is truth a rock, unyielding and stark, A guiding beacon through the dark? Or does it shimmer, a shifting beam, A distant hope, a fractured dream?   In the soul's deep yearning, in the mind's keen quest, We question the truth, we put it to the test. Seeking answers amid the fray, What is truth? We ask, day by day.

I cleared "house" over the weekend declining those who weren't suitable. No one made the cut. Interesting how this journal entry shows I hi a ave high standards, however a guy being an adult clearly defining what he seeks so I can decide if he suits what I seek is slow. A guy doing the usual "whatever you want.." b.s to attempt to hide he wants a fetish dispenser = that won't be me. No it doesn't mean I am not into BDSM playtime, I am. What it means as I know the person very well over a year before I bring up kink and playtime. They guy agrees to that put tries twice to push kink. Three strikes and he's blocked. Next batch of applicants it will be two strikes and they will be blocked. After that batch isn't viable I will stop replying to all messages for sometime. Get it right guys!!

== Results from bdsmtest.org: ==100% Degradee100% Masochist100% Rope bunny100% Slave100% Submissive95% Experimentalist94% Voyeur91% Exhibitionist82% Primal (Prey)80% Pet49% Non-monogamist15% Vanilla10% Owner8% Primal (Hunter)0% Daddy/Mommy0% Rigger0% Ageplayer0% Brat0% Brat tamer0% Degrader0% Dominant0% Little0% Master/Mistress0% Sadist Limits only illegal things

Hello prospective submissive, I'm glad my post caught your eye, I've been looking for my pet slave for quite some time now, and I do hope you are going to be the one to fulfill both of our desires. But first, let me tell you a bit about what I'm truly looking for:I search for a submissive that, from the bottom of her heart, desires a relationship with her dom, her owner. This dynamic, and relationship, would be built upon a foundation of transparant communications, triplicate (physical, mental, and emotional) care, and proven mutual trust. Within this, I expect that my word and intentions are the law by which the submissive is beheld to, for her to surrender, both her control and her worries, completely to me, for I shall be the one to lead and to guide her. I do not mind to start off with long distance, but when the time comes, I would expect for her to be with me, and I have the means to ensure this happens, be it relocation assistance or otherwise.She should expect to have protocols be taught and enforced, be able to execute my instructions in a timely and satisfactory manner, assume basic household duties, engage in pet-play or pet-play adjacent activities, and eagerly look forward to affection in all its forms. Shared hobbies, especially nerdy ones, and deep conversations of whatever topics that graces the mind will be part and parcel for the healthy maintanence of the relationship.Do not mistake my kindness for a lack of structure or lack of the darker side of play, I am more than capable of providing affectionate cruelty with humiliating remarks, sadistic orders, and physical discipline. Ultimately, the shape of the dynamic-relationship will be influenced by the experiences we both share. If any of this resonated with you, and you are someone that places her owner first, I invite you to reach out. I want to learn more about you, and there is no substitute for communication.Do you think you would be the one to catch my eye? I look forward to finding out,Your future master

I was playing around and took the BDSM test.  Here are the results, even though I don't agree with some of them. == Results from bdsmtest.org ==  100% Rigger  100% Master/Mistress  99% Sadist  98% Voyeur  95% Dominant  90% Non-monogamist  89% Owner  75% Brat tamer  72% Degrader  68% Experimentalist  41% Exhibitionist  40% Primal (Hunter)  40% Masochist  38% Switch  29% Submissive  23% Rope bunny  20% Brat  19% Vanilla  15% Primal (Prey)  13% Daddy/Mommy  10% Pet  5% Slave  0% Boy/Girl  0% Degradee    0% Ageplayer   

Dear Men, I have had a few admirers and they all in some ways reveal they admire my sexual ambition but could not participate. I have no interest having finding 2 gay men, I am sure the feeling is mutual. I have no interest in seeing 2 men demonstrate an affection for each other. I was curious in exploring a dynamic where I have an open relationship with 2 men. I was curious to build up to situation where 2 men would feel comfortable pleasing me at the same time. I feel I am just a true bachelorette, no kids, no drama, independent. It is easier developing a relationship where the 2 men are single, not married, no kids (nothing wrong with having kids just I don't want to be blamed for not playing the step mum role).   Some men have said they are interested in cuckhold. Some have said they are bi-curious. but all seem to fear I want to covert a straight man into a gay lifestyle. All it takes is for me to get on really well with 2 men and to just supply the whisky and on with the show.  :)

Remote Controlled - Part 2 A fiction story Usually, waking up was a gentle thing in Sally's home. She'd take a few moments to stretch in bed, to wake gently before turning out of bed. This morning though her eyes landed on the evidence of last night. Instead of her crossword book on the nightstand she caught sight of her plug, phone, and wet wipes. No, last night certainly wasn't a dream. She'd been floating high after her online encounter with Jonathan. A shame flooded through her though. She'd fallen asleep instead of cleaning her toys properly. Sighing, the drawbacks of a long-distance dynamic welled up. If she were in a relationship with a dominant in person they'd never have allowed her to fall asleep and be such a lazy slut. Not wanting the near £200 she'd spent on her vibrating toys, Sally threw herself out of bed and set to cleaning up the mess she'd left for herself last night. Running some hot water, and taking her toy cleaning solution from the shelf she set the toys to soak a little in the sink before attending to the nightstand. As she began spraying and cleaning down the nightstand she noticed the texts. 'Aren't you going to thank me?' 'Just because I let you cum, does NOT mean you get to ignore me.' 'When you see this I want you to message me, slut.' Sally's heart slumped. This was exactly what was wrong with online play. Sure the thought of someone she couldn't see was hot and steamy, but the aftermath was disappointing for everyone. Caught in this thought loop she carried on cleaning until her phone buzzed. 'I am very disappointed Sally. When you are next online I would like us to talk.' Sally sighed, she was just as disappointed in herself. He was right of course. He'd done something for her, and what had he gotten from it? Immediately he thoughts shifted gear. Sally had told Jonathan why she didn't enjoy this dynamic. He knew what he was getting into. Why does he get to be disappointed? Why should she feel guilty? She could quite understand her own reactions, and needing to get on with her day, she pushed them aside to finish her cleaning and start her day.It would be a day or two before Sally next saw that Jonathan was online. In that time she'd put some thought into her feelings. Into this disappointment. She had no idea how online could work. 'Jonathan, I'm sorry I fell asleep on you. I told you I hated online' 'Don't worry. I won't take it personally. I have a suggestion for you if you're willing to be open minded again?' Sally's hands lingered over the phone screen for a little while as she considered her response. As she thought her eyes wandered around her room, eventually resting on the toybox she kept. It was a wonderful orgasm. What could it hurt? Sally, tapped the voice call. The ringtone tormented her for longer than she could bare. She could see he was still online, so why was Jonathan taking so long to answer? She could feel herself anticipating the conversation. How would this go? 'Hello Slut.' Jonathan's tone shook Sally. Instinctively she hated being called a slut. It was such a horrid word. She decided to overlook it for now. As much as she hated that word, she wanted even more for people to think well of her. Impressing and making good with Jonathan was more important than a four letter word. 'Hello Jonathan. I am sorry you know.' 'Oh slut, I know you are. Do not worry. I still think you are interesting.' His tone took her by surprise. He sounded...understanding. Calm. As the conversation went on, she did her best to apologise and to explain but he was calm and reasonable. He truly seemed not to be mad about it. His tone comforted her just as much as it made her feel uncomfortable. Eventually though in what seemed to be another effort to put her at ease, Jonathan made her an offer. 'Do you want me to give you a way to make it up to me?' 'Please Jonathan, it would set my mind at rest.' 'Very well. I have an app I would like you to download.' Almost immediately a message flashed on her phone. The link was easy to follow and the app looked legitimate enough. 'What is it?' 'Download it and find out.' Sally downloaded the app and set herself up on it as best she could while they talked. It appeared to allow one person to set rules, tasks, punishments, and rewards. It used a series of points to track things and could be shared between two people. Almost as soon as she was set up a request landed on this app - Jonathan would like to be your partner 'You do not have to accept, but I know you will slut.' Sally was disarmed by the confidence in his voice. Curious and still hoping for another long distance session where she could benefit from her vibrating toys, she clicked accept. The pages of the app seemed to immediately become filled with things. As she tapped through Jonathan began to explain. He could set her some daily tasks that she would need to mark as having completed. There was even a feature where he could request photo proof if she was comfortable with it. The rules was blank for now, but if the app proved useful Jonathan explained that he'd start giving her some rules to follow. The rewards tab contained two very simple rewards. 1. You may cum even if Jonathan denies you permission. (100 points) 2. Request a new toy from Jonathan. (50 points). Jonathan explained that he had found a delivery locker in her town and he could safely send items there without needing her physical address. She could be assured of her safety and not have to hand over sensitive information. Sally couldn't help but smile, he had really thought this through. Continuing on to the final tab, the punishments page had one punishment listed. You will tell Jonathan a name or descriptive word that you do not enjoy being called. Jonathan will use this word to address you for an entire week. 'I can hear over the phone the gasp of breath when I call you slut. I know you don't like it.' Sally couldn't deny it. She hated being called a slut. And then it clicked. He hadn't called her by her name since the night she'd fallen asleep on him. He was punishing her and he wasn't even here. Sally couldn't help but be impressed by his skill. The two talked for a little while longer, with Jonathan asking what toys 'Slut' owned. She reeled off the toys that she owned, taking and sharing some photos along the way. They discussed her limits, the things he enjoyed, the things she enjoyed. Then he announced something. 'If I have captured your intertest enough, I want to ask you to submit to me using this app and your toys. If you agree Slut, you will leave the call open and put in your vibe and buttplug. If you do not agree, then you can end that call

So its 2022 and I have been here a long while. Still no one claiming to be Dominant and willing to prove it has come my way in this time, will this be the year it happens, probably not. I think most people have given up on this site delivering them a submissive or slave that can fulfill their needs, as much as they fulfill theirs Of course my needs are simple, I would like a Dominant man or couple, who want a relationship which can migrate from a one night stand, to many nights together, and days. But will it happen, I doubt it I am fed up of having to be the assertive one, I am supposed to be asserted upon, Doms on here too afraid to approach someone because others have been such a let down, well, that concept is also felt by many subs and slaves who arrange to play with Dominants who aren't real. So be assertive, sweep me off my feet, treat me with some respect, remember your goal is to want me to spend my time serving you, so if you come at me like a total moron, I'll treat you like one.

Here is my experience with the bimbo:She worked at a car dealership as a receptionist when we met. She dressed conservatively, never showing much skin. She was pretty, but could have really been a 10 with better hair/make-up etc. She was slim, had a round ass, and her best feature - her glorious D cups. She was simple minded. We fucked on the first date and by the third date she asked to stop at a pharmacy. She point blank said, "I'm going to pick up some lube so you can fuck me in the ass tonight". We starting dating and getting to know each other. I learned it was fine to be a bit aggressive with her. When she was in the mood, she fucked like a raunchy porn star. She loved to be dirty or nasty. She loved ass to mouth, spit/sloppy blowjobs, being spit on, getting/giving rimjobs. Even with unbelievable tits, nobody is perfect. Outside the bedroom, dealing with her became a chore. She could be very childish and whiny, constantly complaining. Also very stubborn or moody at times. She could also be demanding. I liked the slut a lot more than I liked the girlfriend. One day she'd wake me up with a blowjob and the next she wouldn't speak to me because I forgot to wear the cologne she bought me. Or She'd pick a restaurant, not like the food, and be in a bad mood all night. It became difficult to deal with her inconsistent behavior. It became she was really only good for one thing. And after a night of her begging for ass to mouth, she said I treated her too much like my "slut instead of [my] girlfriend". Things ended not long after. That's why I am open to find a girl who is more agreeable and build the bimbo onto her.

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

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

Serenity She walks into his lair with anxiety pulling at her as she watches her poise because he is a Master who holds great expectations. This excites her as her goal is to please him regardless of his high expectations. She knows he has had other slaves and she is eager to see where this leads, but he requires patience. She prostrates herself in front of him to show her submission and willingness. This act increases her anxiety but feeds her submission. This inspires the Master to pull the beast from within her, something so submissive must have an inner core that is her primal side. He wants to push her limits and chains her to the floor. He oils her because as he likes the marks, but he doesn’t want to rip her skin. He knows what his goal is and even the devil himself would be jealous of the effect that is yearning for. She was shackled to the floor with little to no movement allowed. He stood over her as she tried to hide her whimpers. She could feel the oil dripping around her thighs and in the crack of her ass. The Master asked if she was ok, and she took a moment to squeak out a yes Sir. She had to trust him, she knew this and found comfort that if he felt she was ready for such a journey then she was ready. She let go and opened herself giving the Master the ability to illicit the responses he was craving. The energy flowed with every interaction he created, she embraced it and as the pain and pleasure intertwined and came to climax her submission climbed with it. He brought her back down where she laid still but shackled limp and panting. He draped a blanket over her it was soft and warm, he placed a small pillow under her head, and he gave her small sips of water through a straw. He directed her to drink, and she did as told. He sat next to her watching as she slowly came back. Slowly he unshackled her and embraced her. She was now curled up to him on the floor where he continued aftercare. She was fulfilled as he was obviously proud of her and even told her so as he stroked her hair.   

DOMINANT WOMEN BEWARE! Well, Mr. Beenhere25yearsandf*ckingwithdominantwomen contacted Me again.  I have a feeling he has made a full time job of this shinnanigans.  Contacts women or waits to be contacted, then has a 3 month relation, then disappears due to multiple guardians (LOL), dual citizenship (USA/UK), testing on his ALIEN DNA (LOL), OH LORD the list and LIES gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooe ON AND ON!  Then someone else contacts you, given your name from Mr. Mindf*ck, and you quickly realize it is the same person!  Back and forth, round and round, LIES AND MORE LIES.  Emails from yahoo, aol, gmail (his favorite) and forget about it now that AI and ChatGPT have arrived.  He is a vertible keyboard warrior.  Dont be fooled if given a phone number.  You'll work for it, oh yes indeed and it will again be a series of shoots and ladders!  He is a L I A R, F R A U D and he even has ropped in a person or two for his mind games.  Can you imagine somone playing at this over 25 years?! If I have said it once, I've said it 100 times - verify verify verify and don't put one ounce of effort into another submissive man until HE PROVES HIMSELF TO YOU!  Phone, in-person VERIFICATION.  And this goes for the other wankers as well.  Even the ones who send a copy of license and passport.  Only in person, face to face, contracts signed and skin in the game proves a mans worth.

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. 

Dont be afriad to talk to me, but can we talk about life first. Always opened to talking to  Doms Dommes Switches Slaves Subs. 

On fitness... Having a partner who's physically active and fit has always been important. I want someone who is full of energy and excitement and can keep up, lol.  In the past, I've never really been attracted to guys who spend all of their time at the gym. For one thing, there's just more to life but second, I'm generally not attracted to huge muscle, gorilla types.  I recently spent several months with a retired firefighter-turned-chemist. Since he's retired, he wasn't nearly as bulky as he was in old photos--thank goodness. But clearly he still took care of himself. In bed one night, in a playful, flirty moment, he reached his arm over and wrapped it around My waist and in seconds I found Myself on top of him. I was almost a foot away from him but at 6ft+ tall, he definitely had a decent wing span. As I said, it was a playful moment but My word...it was also really fucking sexy. Obviously, I had to stick around for a few months to see what else he could do. ;)  I don't know what exercises you need to do at the gym to be able to lift 135lbs with one arm, but do those, lol. Don't do them until you don't have a neck anymore, because that's overkill. We're going for actual strength not just what strength looks like. 

  Found this on a profile...well said:    1. The male must always practice respect, whether in private or public. Stand when she enters the room. Sit (or kneel) as soon as She is seated. 2. Be totally attentive: open doors, offer her your coat, she sits first, begins to eat first, and always ask permission to leave her presence. 3. The male should never speak unless spoken to, or unless anticipating the needs of his Mistress. 4. The submissive will never sit with legs spread or slouch in a way typical of untrained males. Good posture and decorum is a sign of respect. 5. The male will never stare at a woman without her permission. Unless the woman seeks eye-contact, they submissive will keep his eyes lowered at all times. 6. When walking with his Mistress, or any woman, the submissive will keep his gait in step with hers, which usually means taking smaller steps. The male should always be at least 1-2 steps behind, but not too far because he must open all doors. 7. The submissive must always be pleasant, never argue and never pout. 8. The male surrenders control of how he spends his time, how he dresses, what he eats, where he sleeps, the friends or acquaintances he is allowed to keep. 9. The submissive must remember that his orgasm does not belong to him but to his Mistress. It is Hers to use or deny... however she sees fit. 10. The submissive may never touch his own genitals without the permission of his Mistress. When washing, he must use a wash cloth or brush, never his hands. 11. The submissive should never buy his own clothing without the guidance of his Mistress. He should buy what pleases her, not what he likes. 12. When urinating, the submissive will always sit on the toilet... no exceptions. 13. The submissive must submit to eating only “submissive food” selected by his Mistress whenever she requires it. 14. When a meal is over the submissive must be quick to clear the table and wash the dishes. 15. The submissive must always give his Mistress the first choice of everything — She picks the channel on TV to watch, the restaurant to go to, the movie to see, the friends to entertain, etc. 16. The submissive will perform all household chores for his dominate, to include(but not limited to): sweep and vacuum all floors and carpets mop all floors dust and polish all furniture make the beds every day wash and fold all clothing linen scrub bathrooms clean kitchen Cook meals wash dishes set the table shop for groceries take out trash and sort recycled items run all errands

i cant I cant take it any longer i want to behave and make him proud but the walls i have built to hide my emotions to protect myself from being hurt i cant take it i have known him 11 years and i cant take it any longer i am getting mentally exhausted i cant do it any longer im about to crash and burn i know you will be there for me but truth be told the walls are up so i dont get hurt i love you so fucking much and i dont want it to end i know you always say i wont be replaced and that calms me a little but its still in the back of my head i cant take it any longer what can i do i dont want these walls up but i know ill become emotionally wreck i have all these feelings and i know once the walls fall again i will need you more than ever before these emotions i have been hiding will come out are you ready for that?

   Ali’s Story      Ali's Story had a lot unsaid, a lot unrevealed. I have discussed aspaspects with friends and recently someone asked me what I'd do if Ali called me out of the blue. I don't know how I'd react, I really don't know. What would you do?   For my friends and the curious here is.       Ali’s Story It’s my epic summer. I crave the heat. Heat seems to stir up my happiness genes. I had no idea how my organized, careful world would come to such an abrupt and decisive end. You can direct and plan your life in a fashion that corresponds with your economic means and social demands or you can try to self-actualize. I had gone the safe route with occasional side trips to my secret life. I say chuck it all, why not live in the brief time you have. Revel in your oneness. Narcissism in small bites might not be a bad thing. Why all the detail? I wanted to make sure you understood I wasn’t bored and looking for some gratuitous action. I had a lot of cool things to hold my attention. Why I encouraged a visit to a part of my life I always thought of a

i really cooked with this one. kitty gang kitty gang kitty gang ah.     being a mystic of the scriber variety i have learned when i am going through something of a personal nature that is just for me to figure out on my own and hold deep in my heart. but there are often things that i'm going through that the collective is going through. either as fellow femmes be it afab woman gay men with a feminine essence non gendered third gendered with a feminine vibe..all in between...or even a human experience...there are times where i'm going through something.i was going through something..something is coming for me to come through that is a MESSAGE. this is one i know that i'm not alone in..i see it on social media all the time. this is a collective thing for femmes. i hear it when i do leave the house....but this one is more raw for me because i haven't mastered it yet. and it's something i actively work on, prayer, meditation magic to the self, therapy, inner work, inner dialogue, dialoguing with coaches, working with my sisters..practicing carrying wood, chopping water..under the cold as ice water meditating.....running up the stairs rocky style trying to master.....i am better at this now..but the deep raw wound..the deep raw wild unbridled intense all consuming pull..it's still very real for me...and whenever i've been in a romantic relationship or trying to get one that never launches because dating a dark goddess with intuition and a deep psychic awareness of others emotions is a heavy task to sign up for...haha there is no hiding with someone like me and most men can't hang. and even those that want the challenge will often be met past their personal limits and ragequit out quietly or loudly.  this one is harder for me to share because i'm still in the belly of the beast with this. i haven't mastered this yet. i'm much better than i was in my 20s...and each time before i ejected myself from the sauce i got better and better..but there's still so much for me to master..and these feelings..they are so primal it's hard to wrangle or even admit is a thing. but this is definately a collective message i am individually still working on figuring out the solution too that i'm being called to be bold, brave, and as a mystic scriber connect myself to.   the vulnerability has to this point earned me zero dollars, so no bacon yet....but the bacon is in the spiritual emotional mental decorations i have as a solider of love. ai no message with a puffed chest not fake but due to everything i have and will go through that many will never recover from or begin to touch. a puff my chest for knowing the depths of what i have and will face. an earned prowess.   being vulnerable about what’s hard for you and acknowledging the discomfort as part of the mystic path. It’s that raw honesty, mixed with the courage to embrace being “a lot,” that resonates deeply. Mystics often have to sit with their shadows and discomfort, and turning that into glory is part of what makes the journey so transformative. Writing about this, even when it’s difficult, is where the real magic happens. You’re not just owning your strength but also showing others the deep, spiritual work behind it. It’s a brave, warrior-like approach to the mystic path, facing the discomfort head-on to find glory on the other side.   let me call in my sophia encoded soul sister doja cat here. when you play at this level people confuse the outward expression with being troubled and alone...we usually only get this way becauseeeeeeeee we have the outside support including therapy..we only GET to unearth this rawness because we AREN'T alone..don't confuse the heavy topics and unraveling with aimless direction.   "I read it, all the comments sayin', "D, I'm really shooketh" "D, you need to see a therapist, is you lookin'?" Yes, the one I got, they really are the best Now I feel like I can see you bitches is depressed I am not afraid to finally say shit with my chest   Look at me, look at me, I'm naked Vulnerability earned me a lot of bacon I put a thong all in my ass and taught you how to shake it I paid all my respect to those who taught me how to make it And now I reap the benefits with no confrontation Y'all fall into beef but that's another conversation I'm sorry, but we all find it really entertaining 'Cause we all wanna see them slip and fall right on their faces And we all wanna be the one to see the devastation Not be in it, but ain't the bad press good? The disrespect's real, how this Patek look? Pull out the checkbook, now why your neck crooked? I never learn to superstar from a textbook Talkin' 'bout, "She fallin' off, why she get booked?" Man, I been humble, I'm tired of all the deprecation Just let me flex, bruh, just let me pop shit "Why she think she Nicki M? She think she hot shit," hmm I never gave a F, go stir the pot, bitch I got y'all head all in the dirt just like a ostrich Of course, you bitches comparin' Doja to who the hottest" a love and light bitch would do naked to appeal to the male sexuality or the light sexuality. she would be posing provocatively to entice someone to want to fulfill their urges to touch themselves to engage and interact with the sexual energy. they would've touted a good girl sweet aesthetic, a girl next door or a playboy bunny vibe. we're old enough and human enough to know what sex is for a man of any gender that is attracted to a woman be it straight pansexual bisexual whatever. we know what the vibe is....when a man and woman think sex and naked we know.   doja is my tribe she is a wolf she is a devil as she said a demon a yokai like me.   we're bloody when we're naked. we stare at you deep in your soul. if you tussle with us we look you in your eye that's why so many black rapper lilith girls rap that we stare you in the eye when we're fucking because we ain't scared. those eyes maybe white in the back of our sockets but we're doing it because we face the uncomfortableness head on. her body stance isn't leaning to a side or trying to make curves...it isn't trying to be soft or feminine or wild or water....it's at attention it's direct it's commanding it's powerful. her chest isn't hiding her breads it is straight puffing it.   she's bloody because like me we face our uncomfortableness over and over and over again. this is a different type of naked..and if you tussle with a dark goddess of any variety and are blessed to either emotionally mentally spiritually or even hitting the jackpot of love and sexually be naked with her..this is what you get. kudos for the sacred sigil symbology here too sis. love her for that. we're magical girls with foresight.   and yet with all this power.....there's a deep struggle....in this level of nakedness...in how we engage with the complimentary but opposite energetics of men and how they operate and their worlds and how they are made....ad doja is helping me dive into that; if you listen to the song..how does she say look at me? it's not nice, it's not sweet....IT'S DESPERATE IT'S LIKE SOMEONE YELLING CLAWING BEGGING MAD AGGRESSIVE WAILING OVERWHELMING IT'S DIFFERENT LAYERS OF FEELING ALL IN ONE WILD CHAOTIC SECOND. LOOK. AT. M.E LEWKATME LEWK-AT-ME.....   LOOK AT ME   and for the men who aren't sacred away by that passion and want to try and will reach back and will touch and won't ghost, won't dip, won't demonize, won't therapize, won't logic but meet this wild nature creature..how does she respond?   qui

It is always trying to improve itslf by learning new skills to serve a potential Owner . It has recently received some human toilet training. It is now VERY experienced in the consumption of Alpha male yellow. Are there any local London UK men who would like to help it train further by using it BY DUMPING YOUR BROWN WASTE DOWN ITS THROAT  ? It could possibly travel to you , if you live further afield , but , it would need to be for a weekend , or longer , where you would chain it and use it daily. Naturally , other forms of servitude could be provided. ONLY 100% Top men please , who are not overweight. NO versatiles , females or TV/CD's.  Please get in touch Thank You 

In shadows deep where secrets lie, A man of strength, beneath the sky, Dominance etched upon his face, Yet hidden yearnings seek their place.   He walks with power, commands the air, Yet dreams of moments soft and rare, Of tender hands and whispered might, Of yielding to her gentle light.   She stands before him, eyes aglow, A force of nature, soft and slow, In her presence, he finds release, His iron will begins to cease.   For in her gaze, he finds his home, No longer does he need to roam, To her, he gives his crown and throne, Under her strength, he's not alone.   He surrenders all, his power and pride, And kneels before her, nothing to hide, In submission's sweet and tender grace, He finds his true and rightful place.   Her touch is soft, yet holds command, A gentle force, a guiding hand, She leads him to a world unseen, There is strength and softness and inbetween.   In yielding to her, he is free, A paradox of strength to be, Her words, a balm, her voice, a song, Under her power, where he belongs.   Sometimes bound by iron chains, He feels the strenght of her reign, In her dominion, he is whole, She claims his heart, she owns his soul.   For in her power, he finds peace, A harmony that will not cease, In sweet submission, he is known, Her slave at rest, underneath her throne.    

I told her to sleep on the rug next to my bed, i think it was a mistake. She was open vulnerable, tender,  in need of assurance, tenderness not to be push away. Yeah i fuck up i was 26 not an excuse but a reason for my stupidity. she was 33 with two kids, a bubbly  personality with a bit of a mom belly,  hips that she did not recognized and stretch marks that she pretended that was not hers. She was in the wrong body, wrong life, with responsibilities that she resented. I was more than just a good fuck, or s strong hand, i was to dumb to inexperience to know what she needed me to be. I was coming down my high my dick was no longer hard my senses no longer had  a hold of me, she was a mess, sweat, tears and all other liquids was emanating from her. Why did i do the things that i did? and why in the hell did she let me? i was mad at myself for letting that side of me take hold. She was still panting mascara running, with her two hands between her thighs digging in the rub with her hollow eyes peering up at me on the bed. "Stop trying to read me" her breathing was starting to slow down " I'm not" she answered. sweat running down her welted breast mouth slightly agape, her tongue scoop something up from the corner of her mouth as she reach her forehead and pull her greasy, sticky hair back, with both eyes close she moan. Dam she makes it to easy for me. Her other hand reach for the comforter between my legs, i swatted it away, "your sleeping on the floor tonight" her face responded with confusion but her eyes with hurt. I't was suppose to be after care, holding, assurance that she was mine and no ones else. pride, selfishness and ego mix with lust, testosterone is the recipe for beguile stupidity. i can tell that i was scarring her. I toss her a blanket and a pillow of the bed and told her, " go wash your ass.' It was the mixture of coco chanel, sweat, semen, funk me, jell, among's other things that was aggravating  my mood." your mad at me?"  she ask without making eye contact. head down hair covering her face but i knew she was sobbing. Reaching up she grab both of my hands, "you enjoyed this, we both did, you know i wanted this, I need you, don't push me away." Lips quivering along with the rest of her. In her state of panic she look pathetic, weak, "I belong to you and only you" she sniffled. Those emotional tears started moving me. " you've lowered and debased me, I'm no good for anyone else, i'm yours." she poured it on the more she felt me grow. I reach down to the left of her and grab the rope, less then three seconds i had both her wrist loop and tied. shock by my aggression and speed, she wince in pain. In one swift motion i had the rope over the harness on my ceiling. she was on her toes, armed stretched to the ceiling back arch ass out. "Hey man you want us to leave?" said one of the fellows in the living room, "yeah make sure not to forget or leave anything behind." 

You know how it's been on my mind lately, and for a while if I'm honest, about the spinning circle of the good but not right for me guy, yes? Yesterday an opportunity presented itself and I took a deep breath and set boundaries. Literally. I said we needed better boundaries because we're just friends, right? And he said, I don't know. Here's the courageous part... I said I didn't want to be a placeholder. !!! This is huge in my world, in my head, in my learning how to value myself. Standing ovation, I'm waiting.  I am guessing he didn't take it well. He said okay. And I haven't heard a peep since. Which is part of the problem. Was. Saying you want open communication and actually doing the open communicating are two very different things. As a friend I would have listened. As a friend I care and don't want to hurt him. As anything more, severed ties. Okay, more like severed ties that were reattached and cut again several times these past two years. Just like training wheels, leaning on the comfortable and convenient, being the comfortable and convenient. I'm in a much better place than I was two years ago. I don't know if you've heard, but I set boundaries. Tell your friends.  Back to me. Of course I feel bad. Worried I hurt him. Worried the timing is all wrong. And yet... not my circus, not my monkeys. You're familiar, yes? I have to remind myself of this all the time. If I ruled the world I would move from task to task, make it efficient or pretty or whatever it needed, and then hand it off to someone to continue running with my changes so I could fix the next thing. If there is a job where you are never responsible for finishing anything you start please let me know.  Oh. Right. I'm okay. I'm not beating myself up. It was long overdue. It's what I need and I'm proud of myself for following through. Sending him positive thoughts as I move forward without monkeys. 

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

== Results from bdsmtest.org ==94% Submissive91% Rope bunny90% Voyeur71% Exhibitionist70% Primal (Prey)66% Experimentalist 60% Non-monogamist58% Slave44% Masochist 43% Boy/Girl40% Brat 37% Switch36% Vanilla30% Pet17% Ageplayer 16% Degradee

automatic dishwasher Ingrid Bellemare from her book "Owning and Training a Male Slave". “Having a slave is like having an automatic dishwasher: set it up and make it do the work. It is there to serve your needs. If something is not working right take corrective action until it's fixed”    

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

August 22, 2024 - Pennsylvania Red and something new !       Pennsylvania Red came over for a visit. I recently thought about how I give my guys their nicknames. In this case, his name on one of the hookup sites has the word "RED"in it, and he drives all the way from Pennsylvania. So, today we're talking about "Pennsylvania Red."   Today I was wearing only a jockstrap when he arrived. He stripped in the garage, with the garage door standing wide open. He put his clothing in a milk carton near the entrance door to the house. The milk carton case has a sign on it saying, "Useless pieces of human flesh should strip naked and leave their clothing here before coming inside."   As expected, he came in completely naked. I was leaning back in my chair watching porn and I beckoned him over where he got a nice whiff of my nasty dirty jockstrap. I told him to lick my cock through the jockstrap. Eventually I pulled my cock out the side of the jockstrap and started forcing him deep onto my cock. I laughed each time he gagged.   After a while of having my cock sucked in my lounge chair, I said let's set upstairs where I can be more comfortable. I laid on my back in bed and tucked my cock back inside the nasty jockstrap. He started licking and chewing at my cock through the dirty jockstrap. Eventually I pulled it to the side again so he could suck on my cock again. I grabbed him by the back of the head and pushed him down deep on my cock. He was having a good day at cocksucking. I was definitely enjoying it. Occasionally I would lock my hand behind his head and buck my hips up into his throat. I could feel his slobber and drool coating the jockstrap and my balls. This was great, add some more scent to the jock strap for the next guy.   I just laid back and enjoyed him working on my cock. It felt wonderful. I reached up and grabbed my camera and snapped a few pictures of his mouth bobbing up and down on my cock. He wasn't wearing a hood today so I can't share those pictures, but I do enjoy viewing them privately.   At this point my head was at the top of the bed, my feet at the bottom. He was at the bottom of the bed facing upward toward my cock. I wanted to play with his ass so I told him to shift around to the side, still kneeling on the bed, with my cock in his mouth. I wanted to make his ass available to my right hand. He knows that I love to play with his ass. When he suckis sucking my cock, there is nothing more fun than digging and grinding in his ass with my fingers. I keep forgetting to bring a fuck toy to bed with me. Next time I'm going to have to fuck him deep and hard with a rubber toy, maybe even a vibrating toy, as he sucking and choking on my cock.   I put some lube on my fingers and found his hole. It was tight as usual. But I sunk two fingers as deep as I could into his ass with a quick thrust. He let out a muffled howl on my cock as I assaulted his hole. I started fucking his ass with my fingers quite rapidly. And without warning I slipped a third finger in. He wasn't lubed or loose enough for the addition of the third finger and he let out quite a yelp. I yanked my fingers out and shoved two back in him. I quickly found his prostate again and started harassing it with my fingers. I took my left leg and looped over the back of his neck and used my leg muscles to trap my cock in his mouth. I started finger fucking his ass hard again. He was whimpering. I was being rough today. I loved it. I'm not sure if his whimpering sounds were good or bad but I didn't care.   With my leg looped up over his neck trapping him onto my cock, I started swatting his ass with my greasy hand. It made hard contact. I switched from one cheek to the other knowing that they were stinging and turning red with each additional smack. In this position his hole was still spread wide open as I smacked his ass. So occasionally, between smacks, I would shove my fingers up into his ass, just to hear him grunt and then I would start spanking him again.   Then instead of spanking him on the left cheek or the right cheek, I smacked him right on his hole. He let out a painful moan. It made my cock throb inside his mouth. My leg was still latched over his neck so he couldn't get away from me even though he tried. I smacked right onto his tender hole over and over. Smacking a few times and then finger fucking him. Smacking a few times and finger fucking him hard and deep again and again.   I relaxed my leg and let him come up for some air as I got that third finger back into his ass. As he was gulping for air trying to catch his breath, he was almost crying from the pain of the third finger in his hole. But I was in "a mood," I really didn't care, not at all. I was enjoying it today.   READ THE ENTIRE STORY AT  HTTPS://SirKel.top

I lost someone this week.  No we weren't close lately.  We used to be.  Our relationship was never defined, it was loosely maintained, but we popped in and out of each other's lives over the period of several years.  He was my first introduction to bdsm and the only D type that I could truly call a close friend at any point.   He is the only one who ever took me to that amazing place that every sub reaches for, and when I used to write, I wrote about our times together.  Those are still some of my favorites to look back on.  He was also there to cradle me in his arms and comfort me when a scene with someone else went really bad.  He was there to help me figure out what I was and wanted without pressing himself on me, so that I would be safe in the future and make better choices about who I interacted with.  He served as my protector for a while, when I was feeling vulnerable but didn't know if I wanted to step back from the scene at that point.  He never made me feel like a burden.  He helped me in my kink life and he helped me equally in my vanilla life.  I knew he was sick but he didn't let on how bad it was. I found out on the book of faces.  He is gone now, and I wish I could have been there for him, but he didn't want anyone to know the extent of his illness.  That was his way. Goodbye SkyMaster.  You will always be loved, you will always be appreciated.  I have nothing but warmth in my heart and in my soul for you.  I can say that about VERY FEW people in my life.  You will always be missed.    

Well once again collarspace never disappoints to disappoint.  Seriously don't know why I ever come back. You would think after the first twenty times I would learn.   And to the people that say you are too far away, come on really unless you live in a huge city with tons of people in the community who the hell else are you going to talk to.  The odds that if you live in a small to med community that will connect with anyone are so remote it's ridiculous.  Don't be a dick, if someone says hello have the courtsey to at least say hello back. You never know who is out there that could be your new best friend.  It won't kill you.   This might be counterintuitive on here but we need to be a kinder gentler people.    and if you are dick on here it means probably are dick in person.  Take a dick don't be a dick.   Dont take my civility to mean I'm not a dom.  Real men know how to treat people of all sexes with kindness, and still be a dominate man.   To quote Bill Bixby (youngens' wont get this reference) "Don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when i'm angry?  

  Believe it or not, this is my first journal entry. all this time I had no gotdarn clue how to use it. Well here I go.. So...what do you wanna talk about?  (Hands the mic to you)     

I wrote this "Story"   My First Pain Pig I'm a Service Dom. My Dungeon is my playroom, to create pleasurable sensations. I was mid 20's, living the bachelor dream, whoring in the French Quarter of New Orleans. I landed an ok job with Hilton Hotels after graduation. The French Quarter bars stayed open 24/7. It was a place you partied every night. How I survived, 14 New Orleans Mardi Gras is beyond me, they were all real benders, lasting 3+ days. I lived 1/2 Block off Bourbon Street, it doesn't get better than that. It was at Beer Bust Sunday at The Parade Disco, it was 1982 or so. To drum up LOCAL business, The Parade Disco, had a "Tea Party" a beer bust all the beer you could drink from Sunday 5PM until the Kegs went dry. I'm having a "tea party" beer, and a girl walks up to me and asks why I'm dressed in black leather, am I into BDSm? I told her I'm a "leatherman" I like power-exchange, I like to lead, direct, command, suggest. She asked if I enjoyed spanking a girl, and I said yes, and I liked using my belt as well,. We danced, and drank a few beers, and kept chatting. So she grabs my hand and pulls me to the outside balcony, where folks, can actually hear each other talk since the music inside the bars is always loud.. She tells me her friend Freddie whose into BDSm has talked about me He says your known as a fun sadist. He told, me the rumor is, your a creative sadist.. I replied, something like. I'm a service top, I get off when we both get off. I do love mind fucking folks. Could you make me feel and endure pain? Not continuous relentless pain, but Intermittent shearing flashes of pain like strikes from a thin stick, the sting of the hand, or the thud of the belt? I asked, if she had done anything like this before? No, she just listened to all the hot stories her friend Freddie told her, of being a masochist. At some point, I said My safe word is FROG. Say the safe word and she repeated FROG. Good, I also use a safe gesture. I will squeeze your hand TIGHTLY and shake it, you squeeze my hand 2 times, in reply, This reply tells, me all is great, with you. If you fail to give back 2 quick squeezes I will end our playtime. The conversation went something like that, dam, when you get old, sometimes you just got to fill in details you forgot. I pointed from the Parade Disco's Balcony, Thats where I live across the street 800 feet away, the green shuttered walkup apartment.. She said, lets go to your place and play, make me feel real pain. Let me, tell a friend, I'm going to your apartment and I will call them to get picked up later. We walked hand in hand to my apartment. I opened the door to a typical French Quarter "Shot-Gun" apartment, like a boston row house, 25 feet wide and 60 feet long. The living room in front, a half wall jetty between the living room and the small kitchen. A Hallway the first door, the bathroom on the left, the door at the end of the hall, my bedroom and playroom. I had just finished building my "Playroom" I nick named "The Erection Set". (see my profile for photos) I think, my super-power, as a dom is creativity. I think, I give a good mind-fuck. My first rule as a dom was tie them up, to experience the reality of giving up control. Any act of bondage, is a reality of submission, physically felt and experienced. I had a pro-domme "friend" that I would occasionally drink with, at Jewel's Tavern, a Gay Leather Bar. Dex ,loved telling stories of here recent clients. I learned a lot from Mistress Dex! Maybe the most important thing she ever said, Hugo people don't come to Pro-Domme, looking for sex. If submissive's wanted sex they would go to a call girl. Submissives come to a domme to live out a fantasy. The key to a good scene is, living out a fantasy inside a submissives head. That BDSm lesson about Fantasies, was the best lesson I was ever given. The second best lesson Dex shared: Start a BDSm scene extra slow and build up a scene slowly to a climax. I had an established routine, in dom mode, have submissives undress, tie them to the st andrew cross or some other object, like in a chair. Next, introduce sensation play, running my hands everywhere on my tied up subs body. I would take sensation play to the next level, by adding a blindfold, not knowing where I might touch, pinch, pull next. Clothes Pins, are my absolute favorite toy. I have done scenes, with 100s of clothes pins, pinching everywhere on a submissives body. Ear Lobes, Lips, nipples, breasts, inner thighs, nose, the clit, cunt lips, any flap of skin. Clothes Pins are a great beginner activity. Clothes Pins are a great assessment tool as to how much pain a submissive can tolerate, as clothes pins build up pain slowly. I like starting, clothes pin play, with the breasts, many women have sensitive breasts and nipples, plus they can see the clothes pins, the object of pain tormenting them. This is about the time, I light up a cigar. Domination and smoking a cigar seem to go hand in hand for me. I do enjoy, Hot Ash Play. I know, I had 300 clothes pins on her body and she was feeling it but, not moaning or whimpering She wasn't even close to her limits. I like to flick off clothespins, using a cop or ruler or something similar object. I usually progress to Wax play because wax play looks painful, but isn't. Wax play is truly, a great erotic sensation play activity. Its about this point I asked, her to repeat what she came here to experience. I want pain sir. My massage table,doubled as my bondage table, I tied my sub face down, like in a position for a back massage. I would use, rope, saran wrap, tape, straps, to secure a submissive to the massage table. Hand Spankings, are probably the lightest form of corporal punishment. Then, the ruler, belt, fly swatter, rod, hair brush, next in intensity over a hand spanking, next would be the wooden spoon and paddle in pain or intensity, and in my opinion the cane is the most feared implement, used on the ass. . I got to a frat paddle. I think, my sub liked the belt the best, as she seemed to thrash about a bit. She stayed silent as she took the paddle usually a sign that there isn't a lot of eroticism going on. I want a sub moaning, mumbling, swearing, shaking, that tells me they are having a good time. I remember, it was this moment. I did the "CHECK-IN" hand squeeze. I got 2 quick firm hand squeezes back telling me she with me, "all ok". I asked her what she wanted now. What she wanted, was to be used like a hole. To FILL AND OVER FLOW her senses. To feel totally fucked and exhausted. I knew what she needed, she needed to be fisted, to have her cunt stretched out, rubbed raw. In the French Quarter leather community, I was known, as the Dom that enjoyed fisting and handballing. Back in the 1980's vaseline was the fisting lube of choice, crisco if you were handballing. Now, the cool part, when this happened is my playroom was already semi-functional, I had a sling. (see profile photos to see a sling) If your into fisting or handballing you know someone's intensely into fisting, they own a sling. Using a sling, your in a OB/GYN examination table. position, perfect access.