The subject of politics came up during a recent talk with a submissive man and it quickly went to the subject of abortion, and I had some marvelous revelations on the subject of politics and religion and sex.  I paraphrase in part and the rest is history... "I voted for Trump - his heart is in a good place" "I think his heart could be in a good place yet he took action to ensure that My right to sovereignty over My body was abolished.  What the fuck is that?" "Well, he didn't do it to you."  "Yes, yes he did.  He placed two Supreme Court Justices to help overturn Roe v Wade." "Ruth Bader Ginsberg didn't really believe in blah blah blah" "I don't care what she believed in, no one has a right to control My body." "So how long?  How many weeks?" "How many weeks for what? There are NO weeks.  This is not anyone else's decision." "Well, that's murder."  "Who says?  You? Your friends, your church, your politics?" "Do you believe in murder?" "Who are we murdering?  Do you have leather cowhide seats and shoes on your feet?  How about all the meat which you eat - that is murder - terminating life - where are the rules?  Why  is it murder if I am terminating the propagation of cells within My body?  Are we murdering cancer?  Who told you you get to choose what is okay to call murder and what is not?  Who told you you could decide for Me?  I terminate those cells in My body from manifesting and it is My right to do so." "I didn't say murder." "Yes you did.  You said at what time, how many weeks does it become murder.  You are now classifying Me as a murderer if I conduct business on My body." Silence. "What I am saying is, you cannot speak to Me about this subject.  You have no idea what you are talking about.  No one is telling you you have to pay $500 a month for a life, if you conceive with a woman.  No one is controlling your sex! You do not have a right, no one does and it's none of your business.  Is this an issue of the Bible?  Who told the bible it had ANY business in My cunt?  This is My body.  No one gets to decide what happens with it except for Me. Period.  "Well what if you want the baby and the mother doesn't?"  "Tough cookies!  TOO bad.  That is not a decision for you to make and you don't then get to have some tantrum and make Me have a child - that is bloody bullshit!  What the fuck are we talking about?  You don't get to claim some part of My sex just because you have a constant erection and implanted in Me.  You made a D O N A T I O N.  Once you implant your seed, you gave up the rights to that seed.  Once it passes to Me, it then belongs to Me.  What are you, some indian giver?  If you want some commitment to My sex, then that has to be in some kind of sex prenup. I can sign right on the dotted line, I, Ms. C do agree to have one sub ______ pour his seed into My cunt and thereby give him rights over My cunt to then decide whether I and My body, agree to have or have not to bring forth life from My body.   Anything else is Psychological Rape and I don't agree with that!   Can you imagine going to the bank and depositing your funds and the bank says, hey we reserve the right to borrow your money indefinitely and with variable interest depending on whether we are making a profit."  LOL  At one point in the discussion, I had to ask: Why the fuck do you believe you have some dominion over My cunt?  Do I have control over your cock?  Legally?  lol Here is the last arguement and listen up here boys and girls - who the fuck are you to decide what life is of value and what life is not?  Human life is more important than all other life forms???  Are you seriously going to pander that self righteous malarky on Me?  lol   Humans are SOOOOOOOO self absorbed and elitist and primitive. And please, shut the Bible thumping door right now.  I will pay the price with My maker in My own time of this you can be assured and THAT, My wayward PRIMATE is NONE of your concern!  So I ask again, who gave you the right to get all up into My stuff and stake some claim over it? Why do you think you have ANY rights over My body and what happens with it?  WHY DO YOU CARE ABOUT MY / WOMAN'S  BLOODY CUNT???  It truly is NONE of YOUR business! Take care of your own junk and leave ours alone! No apologies offered. Here is a novel idea;  how about a bar code (back of your ID) which tells all about you, drugs, diseases, health  issues, whether or not you grant authority over your cunt/dick to a sexual partner, NSA, marriage minded.  Then we can just scan one another and be done with the charade!

Chauffeur wanted for tomorrow night 25/03/2023. You will be required to pick ME up from IG1 by 8.30pm and drop ME off at E11.  

The change is real on this platform.  Remade an account and scrolled through some profiles.  I feel as though that was a mistake altogether.  I loved the profiles that displayed individuals who could not take care of themselves making demands of various subs.  Those were my favorite.  If you are unwilling to take care of yourself, your health, your diet, your life...allow me to enlighten you please, You Have No Room to Demand Anything of Anyone as a presumed "Dom."  My goodness, I felt like I was going through a Kinder class asking all the kids what they wanted to be when they grew up.  I honestly originally came back on this platform because I remembered years ago reading a post of someone asking for a partner to dance with.  This was obviously not the typical dance though.  This dance was masked dance where the user wished to find a dance partner that would never see their face.  They would never be revealed to the Sub, however they would know literally everything about the Sub.  If and when the Dom was ready to have playtime with the Sub, they would still never even see their face.  Im into masks, not the normal kind.  Im a sapiosexual to a degree.  I value the investment of control.  Im curious.  Honestly, I wish that Dom found someone to dance with, because that honestly sounds like one hell of a dance.  Its fucking hot, dangerous af, but hot. https://www.collarspace.com/personals/v/2923761/details.htm

Instead of updating the profile and having it be down for months, I am using the journal to note changes.  I have collared a slave and it is serving in My home 24/7/365 I continue to train and develop other slaves that need experience serving, learning protocols, developing pain tolerence or just want to provide pleasure to a Master I am also looking for a second slave for a poly household. Mine is a Leather Family and I have many friends in the world Leather community. I have a process for evaluating a slave for ownership, if there is interest I can explain further. The new Dungeon Barn has finally been built. This 3 level dungeon is an all season timber frame barn built on a stone foundation. The interior is being finished and then equipment installed. Completion scheduled for winter 2021. Summer months We/we reside at our camp. Cothing optional, men only, with a complete dungeon there as well

How many of us find the treasure we've sought for so long?  How many of us give up and just accept what is in front of us?  How many of us are truly sincere and willing to kiss a few frogs  while trying to find our kinky slave or the pearl.   Someone suggested I should put up a picture and that My feed would blow up.  That's not what I want.  Let's be real, the one or two or three I want may not be here, it’s like finding a needle in a haystack. Lol I'm sure there is a more up to date analogy.   Yet we persevere hopeful for a meaningful connection.  They are few and far between, but on ocassion we meet someone, strike up a conversation and even a friendship.   Where is the boy you want to beat when frustration is high?  Where is the slave You want to kneel and do whatever You  command? Where is the man you want to rub Your back and have a meaningful conversation with? it's a dichotomy, can you find both in the same individual or do You have a stable of eager boys ready to serve? Time to find what's right for Me!  The search continues.  Goddess

It is good to see this feature has returned. I had been told that it may or may not but there was no plans when I had asked so I am pleased that the decision was made to bring it back. Being able to use the journal and share one's thoughts can save a lot of time. You get to a point where you decide to write a single email then copy and paste to the ones you are interested in speaking with. It seems to me that many women on here, still looking, get overwhelmed with response and often times an introduction may go unread from being overlooked. With the journal you get to share more and someone can establish a sense of you before opening communication. This leads me to something that has bothered me about a stance some take in the online community. This idea that you are not real if you do not post photos of yourself or what you do. Not to say I would be unwilling to send photos once I spoke with someone and believed them to be serious. I would gladly share with someone I feel is serious about moving forward. However, the idea that I should share a bunch of photos with disregard to the safety of those involved simply to prove I am real is, in my opinion, absurd. In order for me to post photos I would have to scrutinize each photo to ensure nothing is revealed that could identify me or those who do or have served me. I do not have the time to do this and lets face it, I would rather live in the moment doing than relive what I did. To me, the person who has all the photos and videos is living in the past instead of the now. Besides, even though this is not a completely public site, I have come across scammers, so the less I put out that is readily accesible the better for me and those who rely on me. If you wish to know me and see what I do, then contact me. For now, I will add more entries as topics come to mind that I want to share my thoughts on. In this way, the community may get to know me and those who are seeking someone like me may find me. I look forward to sharing more in time.

My thoughts about FLR's I wrote this a few years ago but I feel it’s still relevant… enjoy!—————————-So much said and discussed regarding FLR's. Some argue that it is not based in kink while others offer that it actually has its roots there. I personally believe that it can only roughly be defined… because ultimately… it is whatever the two consenting adults agree on creating together. I will however take a moment to describe what I have imagined a Female led relationship to be. Let's begin by exploring some contrasts with what is... What is a Male led relationship? Is it kinky by definition? I would imagine it to be the classic default idea of a bread winning husband and a wife who takes on more of the domestic duties. While kink really isn't involved in defining it… the assumption might be that the man's sexual needs get met with priority while hers are not. He is above criticism but she is not? Mix in our cultures unfortunate dance with masculine toxicity and I see why more and more Women are just plain fed up with the traditional relationship model. The goal to achieve equality often ends up seeming a pipe dream. When I imagine a FLR i begin by flipping the script on the classic model.So perhaps She's the bread winner now…? and Her desires take priority?Regardless of income comparisons, the chores still need doing in the house so I naturally see the male stepping up and taking on the domestic roles before and after work. And much like how a male expects to be "served" as the head of house, I see the Female instead getting to make Her needs, comfort and well being the first priority. But rather than asking for beer and sandwiches during a football game… I would imagine a Woman's requests to be more… well… feminine in nature. Intimacy building, sensual, communicative, nurturing and based more in the areas important to Her such as personal, domestic and emotional fulfillment. Ahhh but macho men don't go there right? lol Perhaps this is why D/s is so much more commonly associated with the idea of a Female Led Relationship…? using Femdom to establish Her new authority and to lay the foundations of the power dynamics within the relationship. YES, many men are clueless when it comes to being more balanced, more self aware, more selfless and more supportive of the Goddess in their lives. They grew up with the Patriarchy programming and only through months or even years of self introspection, re-education and re-balancing will they at last come to understand and access the Authentic expression of the Divine Masculine within them. It is so worth it but why oh why so rare in this day and age? You can lead a horse to water but you cant make him drink is the saying that comes to mind when I imagine a vanilla version of a FLR. Perhaps D/s IS the most effective accelerant to what would be an otherwise painfully slow conversion process full of power struggles? One element of kink that is definitely penetrating into more of the vanilla ranks is of course male chastity. This idea of harnessing the power of an otherwise out of control fire hose for bettering both himself and your intimate relationship is not surprising to see rise in popularity. Ensnared by his own kinky imagination, the chastity offers both initial enticement for him but also a far more tangible tool of enforcement for Her. This leverage She gains can then be used to establish a full and new domestic life balance between the two… while he begins to understand and witness the positive effect his attention and efforts to please have upon Her, Her beauty, their connection and his own personal awakening. Now add in more and more kinks… BDSM, Cuckolding, Hotwife etc and to me you are just adding more toppings at the salad bar. The foundation of the FLR is laid out simply as the salad and the dressing… She is on top, she is leading the relationship direction and he is supporting Her efforts… hopefully quite willingly. If not then perhaps some croutons and deviled eggs are necessary as well? Maybe both enjoy a full on power dynamic 24/7 and act accordingly? The sky is the limit after that. So yes, in my humble opinion… whatever they both create it to be… from the salad dressing on, is what I imagine a FLR to ultimately be. Thoughts?

Phew and thank god!   I nearly forked out just under £500 on the wrong specimen: 1. £295 for harness gear - custom made still lush 2. £50 for the application in 2 sizes 3. £95 rope bondage lesson but getting discount as the teacher is an old friend of mine   Will still spend for myself but if I ask a man questions it means I am investing time to understand how to give you what you want. You can't give me a second, ok, harness yourself.   I am good.   Still investing in the supplies just finding a worthy destination. Some people like to talk forever and not act on their impulse I was thinking lets act on the impulse not just talk about it.

Well, I finally decided to unhide my profile after several years of isolation due to the pandemic.  Thought I might be able to find a good slave boy just in case we ever have to go back into a lockdown situation so that I am not left all alone without a sub/slave to use.  Nice to see there are fewer scammers, but seems there are less profiles, too.  BUT apparently the head games and b,s, have not changed much!  Guys, ghosting anyone is rude and unacceptable!  It reflaspects poor character when you make a date or agree to submission and then just disappear without any word!  Why would you lead someone on for several weeks and tell them how much you adore them, only to ghost and block them??  Hell, make up a viable excuse, but don't burn your bridges!  At least show some consideration and that you can be responsible for your actions!  And what is up with the old pics on profiles?  Some of you have not updated your age or profile pic in the last 10+ years that I have been on this site!!  Didn't you know you can change your personal stats without needing approval from Admin??  I realize pics need approval, but not to update your stats!  Up to this point, I have tried being socialable and understanding, but there comes a time when the Dom in me has to come out one way or another. If you cannot take a bit of verbal abuse and corporal punishment, you are in the wrong place.  While I may enjoy levels of intimacy at times, I will not be your boyfriend.  There are other sites for finding those types of guys. This old troll will crawl back under his rock now! 

Oh Sir, your bitch is waiting for you to grab me by my pussy hair and push me onto the bed You tie my hands over my head, put a spreader bar between my legs and then wisper in my ear, how dare you come to me with all this here My bitch is hairless you hear me You pull out your shaver and take off my hair, spanking my clit and pussy as you go Mmmmm When you are done you go into the bathroom and get a soapy washcloth You rub and scrub my lips and pussy You dirty bitch as you flip me onto my belly trying to decide which hole youll shove your big hard almost still cock You spank me first with a wooden paddle that I actually brought zwith me Ill show you who your Master is bitch You grab the back of d hair as you climb on top of me shoving yor dick into me hard I cry out    M  

So, many years ago I met someone on here, who absolutely blew my mind.  I'd never experienced control before and it was an amazing journey. From the very beginning, the controlling of my time, as in what I did with my free time, updates of where I would be at certain times in the day so they always knew where I was. Having to be available at specific times. Not a minute before or a minute after. Controlling how and when I touched myself if I could have an orgasm. Even my clothing having to replace my underwear with women's underwear. Sitting to go to the toilet. All these things which I was told was leading up to a very hard limit of feminizing. Which was a total mind fuck. Because with each step that I was pushed and you eventually that that limit would be pushed as well and if both scared and excited me at the same time.  Now I never knew as we never got to it if that would have happened, whether I would have been feminized or whether because it was a very hard limit of mine, it was simply used as a mind fuck. Either way it's certainly did the trick. The less freedom I had and the more control she took made me feel so submissive and so desperate to continue to please.

The Kink Vending Machine Dec 17, 2017   So, you want to submit. You want to be Topped. You want to find a Dominant Woman to whom to submit, and who will probably Top you.   I get it. I really do. It's just like all other relationships - we need something, and we can only really get it from other people. We want sex. Sexual gratification is possible without other people, but almost everyone agrees that it's not nearly as gratifying as it is WITH someone else. We want love. We can love ourselves, and we can love others, but most of the time, we have a powerful need to receive it from someone else. We want to do… stuff. Sex stuff, relationship stuff, life stuff, and yes, again, some of it can be done by ourselves, but mostly, we want someone to do it with, or to do it TO us. We want a someone. Lots of us want our own special someone, who is OUR someone, and for whom we are THEIR special someone in return. Or at least one of their special someones. And let's face it - sometimes we get lonely. Or we get needy. Or we just really want to do that fucking cool thing RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!!!! And then we can get a little…. fixated. That "someone special" starts to look more and more like "someone who will" and then "anyone who will" and then to just "anyone."   But almost NONE of us want to be "just anyone" to someone else. "I didn't get their name" is the joke we see all over to denote a space filler, a warm body, without memorable characteristics. Not special at all, in other words. Forgettable. Not important enough to bother with as an actual person. Just a means to an end.   Completely interchangeable with any other "anyone" we can get hold of when we need one.   About as special as a vending machine.   You need a coke, you go find a machine, pop in your dollar, soda pops out, and you move on. The machine? You barely noticed it when you were feeding it money. You sure as shit don't value it. And you forget it the second you pop that can.   Not flattering.   Here's the crux of the problem - if you will kneel to anyone who lets you, then when you kneel to me, you aren't kneeling TO ME - you're just kneeling because you like to kneel. It's the same as telling me that I'm no one special, and I could be swapped out with anyone and you'd be fine with that. It makes everything I am … nothing. Meaningless. Worthless.   Well, to you, at least.   All the years I spent working on learning how to communicate in a healthy, assertive, honest and open way… they don't matter. All the work I put into learning what makes a good Dominant? The same. All of the time I took educating myself on what makes a bad Dominant? Who cares? Any skills I built because they would give my submissive a better experience? Nada. All of the things that make me Dominant, or a good lover, or a good partner, hell, that make me a good person? Not worthy of notice.   Everything I am, everything I've made myself, everything I value about myself, has no value to someone like that.   They aren't looking at my profile and thinking "DAMN this person sounds amazing!" They aren't reading my writings and falling a little bit in love with my mind. They aren't seeing what I post about how Dominants and Submissives should treat each other and wishing that could be them.   That person… the one who kneels to anyone and everyone at the drop of a hat? THAT person saw a pretty face, got a woody, (or let's be honest, had a woody before they even logged on and are just looking for something to wank it to) and dropped to their digital knees because that’s what they want out of it all - to feel grovel-ish, to play pretend without admitting that to the other person, to rub one out to their fantasy of a Dominant Woman who would do to them the things that they saw in some porn vid. That person is 100% focused on getting something they want. They don't care where they get it, or even about the quality of what they get. They want what they want, and everything else is irrelevant

Unless you are local to London or travel to London (at your own expense) please do not contact me. I do not have time to play fantasy with you through my laptop. I am NOT going to over use adjectives to describe a setting that does not exist. We can NOT eat a meal virtually throuh this message service. We can NOT enjoy your grasp of my breasts through this message service. We can NOT hear me squeel due to satisfaction on this messaging service. We can NOT touch our skin on this message service. We can NOT enjoy a glass of wine on this messaging service. I can NOT use my silk on you on this messaing service. I can NOT call you late on Friday night demanding you make a trip to my place for sexual attention on this messaging service. So politely unless you can ring my door bell, turn up with some flowers and lubricant and a decent bottle of red wine, politely will you F-off and go submit your horny essay to some shit literature competition that equally does NOT exist. Thank you

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

I am looking for a rather extreme & piggy domestic slave & pup ----- I am looking for a very serious, committed, and submissive slave who is interested in a very controlling and quite sadistic anonymous cam master to start with. This is because I highly value my privacy at first, and cam is a good way for me to test your potential. I am rather unexperienced, but this is the lifestyle that I have now decided to pursue. So, I am ideally looking for a no-limit live-in piggy irl 24/7 servant, butler, handyman, pup, object and sex slave. A slave who lives to fulfil my every need is actually what I am looking for. I am also actually more into control than anything else, so a Gorean and Roman type of slave mixed with a mid-50's housewife would fit me nicely. All that being said I believe that it might realistically work best if I have a vanilla relationship, with the person, but where I am the king of the house and my partner knows his place as a no-limit live-in piggy irl 24/7 bf, servant, butler, handyman, pup, object and sex slave, doing all domestic chores, errands, renovation of the flat, labour work, etc... while I also control everything in his life. If that is you, or if that is what you want to become, don't hesitate to contact me - especially if body smells, careless general hygiene, and a little more extreme twist on things, don’t scare you off, but turn you on instead! If you contact me, send a detailed overview of your experience, expectations, current limits, and some recent pictures in your message. ----- I am also very interested in getting in contact with either an experienced master who could help me build up my knowledge and experience of many kinks, or an experienced slave who could mentor me while worshipping me.

What my submissive nature looks like:   I naturally end up taking care of others better than I take care of myself. I love to maintain a household and provide nourishment and comfort to all who dwell there. I enjoy pampering my partner. I’ve raised a child, I garden, I cook, I fix things and I take pride in a job well done.    Things I’m not so good at… selling myself, making big $$, asking for what I need or making the first move.   I’m sensitive and inquisitive. I care about the world. I’m drawn to ponder the meaning of life. I cherish touch, beauty, intimacy and indulging in carnal delights. I love truth and freedom. I adore feeling wanted, desired and useful to the Feminine. I adore giving pleasure… physical, emotional and mental. I adore receiving pleasure. I enjoy enduring erotic pain for another’s pleasure… and I cherish serving the will of a Goddess. 

Some of my messages are getting redundant - so I'll post answers to my commonly asked questions here - My bra size is 38G or 38DDDD - a 38G and 38DDDD are the same size - depends on manufacturer which way they choose to list it.  Yes. I like pain. It's one of the many aspects of BDSM that I enjoy. Despite the photos, and despite the fact that I have had a fair amount of experience with impact play and corporal punishment, I do not have a lot of experience with extreme pain.   I'm located in metro-Atlanta, specifically Marietta. No - I am not willing or able to relocate. No I am not interested in long-distance / virtual to start with Dom re-locating if we are good match. I am not equipped for virtual submission. I don't have any children and do not want to have any children at this stage of my life.  I am willing to be friends with couples but I do not want to serve a couple or become a subsister to your wife or existing submissive or slave.  Hope this helps. 

It's a Tuesday evening in the middle of Dark Mofo, Hobart's art festival of sex and death.   I'm at an impossibly hip bistro for dinner. It's tiny and beautiful and the service is faultless, though the food is not as good as they think it is. The table barely fits me and my toy, wedged between a coat rack and the bar.   The waitress is young and curly-haired with a septum ring and Blundstones. Her forearms are covered in fine golden hair a shade lighter than her skin. I wonder if her armpit hair is the same beautiful shade, and suddenly I see it in damp ringlets, see her on her back, arms stretched above her head, naked, lying next to me...   "Can I get you a drink to start?"   My toy is not permitted to speak.   "I'll have a Camapari and soda, and have you got a rosé or an interesting white for him?" I nod my head in my toy's direction.   "You know I have something very interesting open tonight that might fit the bill" she says, reaching for a bottle on the bar behind my toy.   "Let me give you a taste of this. It is an orange wine from WA." She pours a generous mouthful into the glass in front of my toy. I wave away her offer to pour a taste into my glass, and pick up the glass in front of my toy.   The wine is a deep, sunset orange.   "What an extraordinary colour." I swirl the wine in the glass and bring it to my nose to smell.   The waitress begins to explain the maceration process used by the wine maker. I lift the glass to my lips and tip the generous tasting pour into my mouth, my eyes on her. She explains how the winemaker uses Gewurtztraminer and Shiraz grapes separately fermented on skins, and then mixed. I nod, suck air through my teeth to aerate the wine and swish it around my mouth.   I drop my eyes to My toy. His head is bowed, enough to show defence but not enough to draw attention. He's watching me, alert, intent.   I spit the wine back into the glass neatly and place it on the table. My toy flinches as if he's been pinched, then his cheeks flush the same colour as the wine. The waitress is silent, I feel her eyes on me. The wine swirls, cloudy, bubbly with salivary protein. I exhale with satisfaction and look up at her.   "That is delicious, excellent suggestion. He'll love it." I slide the glass towards to her. She hesitates for a moment, then pours a full pour into the glass. She looks at my toy and smiles, then turns her head to me.    subMeghan 

Ok, here goes another journal entry, another step down this path… As always, I am subMeghan, and as required, as I type this this, I am completely nude, except for my dog collar and glasses… First things first. My Dom got a new toy for me.  It’s called a “cheek retractor dental mouth gag”.  Here’s a link to what they are: https://www.extremerestraints.com/cheek-retractor-dental-mouth-gag.html We’ve been trying it out this weekend and so far we are both really liking it…  a lot!  My Dom just loves, loves, loves how I look when I wear it.  I knew right away that he’d like it from the perspective of fucking my mouth, but he also is obsessed with me just wearing it. In fact I am wearing it right now as I type.  In fact, I’ve been wearing it around the house most of the weekend.  As far as gags go, all in all, it’s really comfortable.  Compared to some other types of gags, breathing is not an issue at all.  Drooling of course is unavoidable. And yes, I’ve got drool all over my chest. (My Dom loves to see me drool.)  I just need to make sure I don’t drool on the keyboard. lol This has all been part of a puppygirl weekend, which is something we do from time to time.  In a nutshell, I spend the entire weekend as a nude puppygirl, doing any number of puppygirl activities.  I get off on it which only makes the sex all the better. (Perhaps I’ll elaborate of that in a future journal entry.) Enunciating while trying to talk while wearing this gag is extremely difficult.  So I haven’t been saying much this weekend.  However, I can still make barking-like noises.  Lol  You literally cannot say “woof” or “bark” while wearing this gag.  I ended up going with an “arf” like noise... We ended the session about an hour ago and now I’m human again.  This will give me enough time to take care of all the weekend chores around the house. That’s about it for now.  I’ve got chores to do.  So, this is naked, drooling subMeghan signing off. Until next time...