AcadaMay CFNM Ladies Cocktail Party - Saturday February 121st 19.00-23.00 You may contact me here to reserve your place. Most alternative events objectify women, but there is one particular event that reverses the rôles. This is the Clothed Female, Naked Male party. CFNM by definition gives the power back!  Ladies of elegance and sophistication are cordially invited to take the opportunity to mingle with their peers whilst sipping their cocktails and enjoying the entertainment. Come & join the the AcadaMay CFNM Ladies' Cocktail Party for an evening with lashings of decadence. All whilst being served by underlings who will be there solely to serve and cater to our every whim. You will never want to go to a vanilla party again! Ladies, this is your chance to be served by men and objectify them. CFNM includes activities that are not particularly oriented towards female dominance and superiority, but a modicum of humiliation and punishment to the nude men not behaving according to protocol would be expected, nay, encouraged! Gentlemen, this is your chance to parade yourself in an elegant social setting, to have the opportunity to serve and make yourself compliant to the request of any lady present without demur or backchat. If you wish to have this experience, come and join the ladies for an afternoon of CFNM.

How long does it take to inspect a piece of meat? I will start this little entry to My Journal with a quote from My writing about the first meeting with a prospective slave property, “Inspection may take just a few minutes. How long does it take to inspect a piece of meat?” This sentence was intended to address what I hope to find in a slave’s mentality. I want a slave to approach its possible future life as a piece of property as though it were on the auction block. When it is on the block, what ever trauma it experienced in the process of ending up naked on display available to the highest bidder, is not on evidence. Such trauma, or in the case of My inspection, is irrelevant to the ongoing process of slave acquisition. What I care about is the slave’s sacrifice to be exposed to My inspection with hope, but, maybe without expectation that it will become My property. Much like the slave on the auction block, to be viewed and passed by, rejected, by many and bid on by few up to gaining residence with a previously unknown Owner. A word about rejection. (Forgive My digression.) Many slaves that are into humiliation as an element fueling their need to become ‘less than’ have discovered rejection as an incredibly powerful humiliation and, therefore, a delicious element in the humiliation paradigm they inhabit. Others fear even the thought of rejection as the ultimate sanction from a Superior. Rejection bights deep and hurts in a long lasting fashion for many slaves. Some slaves think rejection is the worst form of punishment. The thing is, when I wrote the ‘piece of meat’ comment I did not expect that I would reject a prospective property at one look. The comment was more allegorical of the feeling a slave may have of being exposed on auction than actually running the risk of being immediately rejected. And then it, the piece of meat inspection and rejection, happened. I have inspected many slaves. I have delved into their mouths for teeth and brain for thinking. I use exhaustive questioning at times, but, always with the idea that this particular ‘meat’ would be what I am looking for. But the most recent inspection was different. My first look at the prospect caused Me to utter, “it is an ugly fucker, isn’t it?” Brutal and ‘unfair,’ might be the assessment of a casual observer. However, it was a truth spoken by Me to engender a response from the slave that would tell Me much about its attitude. The response it gave, “yes, Master,” was encouraging to Me. Nevertheless, My desire to own this particular piece of chattel went down hill from that instant on. I had picked it up at the airport. Driving to a restaurant for the initial part of the inspection, I always do the first face to face to face in a public place, I kept glancing at it. Each glance made Me feel more ill at ease. Until, I gave up on the restaurant idea and pulled to the side of the road. Looking it squarely in its eyes, I told it there was no way I want it and that I was taking it back to the airport. Yes, something happened inside of Me. I am not able to describe it other than it was the opposite of ‘love at first sight.’ Yes, it did not take that long to look at a piece of meat and reject it. Yes, I am a sadist. However, I am not sadistic without bounds. I am not attracted to killing or snuff fantasies. Nor, I am interested in severing limbs or causing bodily injury that might require anything but most minimal medical attention. With this ‘piece of meat’ experience I have found a new limit to My sadism. I did not enjoy rejecting it. Actually, I felt a slight tinge of remorse later when thinking about what My behavior. So, it turns out I have psychological bounds as well as physical to My sadism. Any thoughts, even negative, the reader may have on My little incident would be appreciated.    

Hello everyone!  subMeghan here... As you guys know, my dom requires me to disslose the fact that as I type this, I, subMeghan, puppygirl and submissive, am completely nude, wearing only my dog collar and glasses... Sorry for not writing sooner, but we've been busy and I didn't think I had much to say. I will say that my last journal entry here was an "interesting" experience.  For those of you you don't have the time to go look at it, basically my dom was pleasuring / teasing me as I typed my journal.  Frankly I'm surprised I was able to type anything remotely comphresensible.  lol Hmm...  I think my dom is up to something... He's been looking over my shoulder as i type. He just handed me my ball gag and has instructed me to put it on.  Stand by... Done.  So this is naked subMeghan, wearing only my dog colla, glasses and now my ball gag...  I wonder where is going to go...  ;)  Ah, I see...  Now that I'm gagged and can't talk he has directed me to respond to him by typing my responses to him right here.  My responses to you master are to be in bold face?  Is that correct, sir? My dom has just dropped a couple of clothes pins in my lap and said "you know where these go?"  Indeed I do, sir! These go on my nipples , sir!  So now I'm naked subMeghan, wearing only my dog collar, glasses, ball gag and clothes pins on my nipples. Is that all, sir?  No?  Ok, what do you want me to do? Ha! My dom just loves teasing me. Now he has just dropped a pair of handcuffs in front of me.  I guess we're going to take this up a knotch.  Sir, if I cuff my hands behind my back, I don't think I'll be able to type.  Ok, he wants my hands behind my back.  Here we go... k  typing like this super hard  i move keyboard to edge of thev desk and i hav to stand up so i can reach around and type wiyh 1 finger.  this is naked submeghan wearing dog collar glasses gag clothes pins and cuffs.  my dom is laughing at me an says i look like a stupid dork. good 4 me i happen to know he has a thing for nerdy girls lol my dom sayys to say goodbye because hes going to make me dance for him then fuck me bye

Ladies...You are welcome and encouraged to apply if you are honest and can obey.  This is a real home and a safe harbor.   I am not personally interested in women sexually, however I am not entirely adverse to the idea of shared intimacy with time.  Mainly, women have entirely unique qualities they bring to a home and to service which I can and do appreciate.  I respond well to women who are straightforward and even a bit tomboyish. On another note.... Some of you gents are real doozies.  The up side is that this has made way for some amazing men to move front and center.  You know who you are - you delight Me and inspire Me and your supportive nature and devotion make all the difference to Me and inturn to Mum.  Thank you. Further.... I see a foot slave...toilet slave...a humiliation slave, lets get real for a moment.  While I appreciate you all have your specialties and preferences, I have to wonder where are all the administrative slaves, the bookkeeping slaves, and refinishing slaves? lol  I'm looking for My own personal TEAM!  Trust in Me when I say, you will be a creative lot and busy busy bees!    

The treat She popped on a playlist and smiled the whole time she got herself ready for this dinner date.  It was a real treat to be taken out to their favourite foody pub and she was tingling in anticipation of being out and about in public with him. She left her hair to dry naturally in soft waves and applied minimal makeup as she decided on a rberry plunge bra and matching stretchy lace panties.  She eased them on, over the suspender belt already in place, and then slipped the thin jersey dress over her head.  She looked in the mirror.  “Perfect,” she thought to herself.  The ditsy floral dress clung to her breasts and waist and the v-neck was deep enough to display a good amount of cleavage, before flaring out loosely over her ample hips and arse to stop just above her knee.  She pulled on her leather knee-high boots, grabbed her jacket and bag and skipped downstairs to wait for the door. He arrived not long after and she let him in.  “I have a surprise for you,” he said with a grin, holding his closed fist out.  She smiled broadly and put out her hand.  When he opened his fist something warm and heavy dropped into her palm.  “Go and put it in,” he ordered quietly.  She looked at the in her hand.  It was a shiny metal sphere, about the size of a large marble.  She let it roll around her palm and felt some kind of weight shift inside the smooth sphere. A little later, as she climbed into his car, she felt the weight shift inside her cunt and the anticipation of the evening ahead flared in her belly.  Before starting the car she felt him look her over and she became very aware that her breath quickened under his gaze.  He didn’t say anything, but placed his hand on her right knee and let it slide upwards, pushing the fabric of her dress ahead of it.  When her stocking-tops were exposed he briefly traced his finger over the soft flesh of her inner thigh, forcing her to part her knees.  “Hungry?” he asked.  “Very,” she replied, a little breathlessly.  Satisfied, he started the car and they set off. The pub was located in a small village a short drive from her home.  One or two locals were sat at the bar, but the restaurant area was dimly lit and virtually empty.  He walked her over to the corner end of the bench that ran along one wall - the end nearest to the small fire – and motioned for her to sit at right angles to him at the square table.  He had a good view of the room and the archway to the bar, whilst she was mostly hidden by the wooden dividing panels which were spaced along the length of the bench's back. She settled onto the cushion covering the wooden bench, removed her jacket and flexed her shoulders against the back rest.  A waitress brought two menus over and took their drinks order from him.  He picked up one of the menus but didn’t pass it to her.  Without thinking she reached out her hand for the other menu, still resting on the edge of the table.  She ged sharply in surprise when his hand flashed across the table and firmly grabbed her wrist, her fingertips still hovering above the menu.  “No choosing for you tonight,” he said.  The waitress had stopped uncertainly a few steps away from the table, holding a tray with their drinks on it.  She seemed unsure about whether to approach or whether she would be intruding.  They both turned to smile at her and he released her wrist, letting her return her hands to her lap.  They both thanked the waitress as she placed the drinks on the table and then she left quickly, without asking if they were ready to order.  Again, he studied the menu, occasionally flicking his eyes over to look at her as if matching the food to how she looked.  She felt her cheeks warm under his gaze and realised she needed to squirm in her seat to release some of the heat she felt in her belly and cunt.  The shifting marble inside her gave her no respite from the arousal that was building; instead she felt her nipples stiffen inside her bra and she had to open her mouth to return her breathing to normal.  He smiled behind the menu before closing it and placing it back on the edge of the table, waiting for the waitress to notice that they were ready to order. It wasn’t long before the waitress was standing at their table again, small notepad in hand.  She looked directly at the woman and asked, “What would you like?”  The woman blushed and rocked forward on the bench.  Her mouth opened slightly, as if she was about to speak, but she turned her head to the man instead.  The waitress frowned slightly – confused rather than annoyed – and turned to the man as he began to speak.  “We’ll have the sticky barbeque ribs for two, followed by one seabass with new potatoes and green salad, and one ribeye with fries.  MR for the steak and oil and vinegar for the salad please.” Finally, they were left to talk with no likelihood of interruptions for a while at least.  Their conversation flowed easily.  They spoke about work, friends (mutual and individual) and their plans for the next few weeks.  As they spoke she grew more and more aware of his gaze.  She could almost feel it gliding down her neck, over her collarbone and plunging between her breasts.  Despite their everyday, normal conversation she felt the heat from his eyes as they slid over her breasts, down her belly and she imagined them settling over her clit.  His hands were cled, elbows resting on the table as he spoke to her.  He didn’t touch her throughout their convers ation, yet she still felt her arousal swelling inside her.  Her voice became lower and breathy as she talked to him. She found herself leaning forward and turning towards him as they talked; her neckline gaping for his gaze.  She hadn’t realised, but her knees had spread beneath the table.  An unconscious way of allowing herself to press her clit against the thin cushion as she leant forwards.  All of a sudden, his hand rested warmly just above her knee and patted.  She instantly sat up straight and, moments later, the waitress set a large plate of ribs and two finger bowls on the table. They ate the sticky ribs without much talking.  The silence and having to eat with her fingers seemed to shrink her world to a private bubble around their table.  She felt primal.  Sucking meat from the bone, sticky juices staining her lips, she was very aware of the fact that her nipples were now hard enough for her to feel them rubbing inside the bra she was wearing and her clit was screaming at her to be rubbed harder and more directly than on a soft seat cushion.  He looked carefully at her as they ate.  Watched her body perform it’s little rocking motions in the seat, watched her green eyes darken and her tongue lick sauce from her lips.  He let her eat two more ribs and then told her to sit back and have a drink.  He finished the remaining ribs while she sat there, almost panting, as she fought to control herself.  He judged that she had got a good handle on herself by the time he had finished eating so he dried her fingers for her, after she had used the finger bowl, sliding the soft napkin along each finger to the tip.  She looked at him as he dried her fingers, the gentle tug of the napkin on each finger sending a shiver to her spine that caused the hair on the back of her neck to rise.  Her eyes pleaded with him, tried to convey to him how close she was to wantonly climbing onto his lap and grinding her cunt ont

I want to be clear...here are my hard limits... Kids Animals Choking Guns Orgies/Gangbangs Swinger type events. I am into the power exchange not group sex Cuckold  Scat Serious Public Humiliation/ Sarcasm/ Degradation/ and/or blackmail Diapers Pacifers Bottles Dont ever call me mom or mommy Age Play Animal Play, no pony or puppy role play either ( can be done at very infrequent times but not for all the time) Sissy play (some femme is ok) Needle Play Tattoos /brands, unless you are collared I won’t tattoo you ... and even then I probably won't.  Blood Play Illegal Drugs and many legal ones Smoking/smoke Untruthfulness Ass to mouth. I will not take things from your ass and expect you to put them in your mouth Death play Vomit Occultism Paranormal things Vampirism Poppers or drugs

Just for fun!   There is a lovely toilet in TX that has Me wiggling My toes for joy of them being licked clean!  lol  I know it is not everyone's thing, but I have nice toes and they SOOOOOOOOOOO love to be licked.  Mayhaps I shall start with the list of likes for yall to drool or ewww over!  lol   Number 1:  Likes to have feet washed and massaged and licked and sucked!  My toes delight in pampering.  Yum!

i tried to make a post about lilith earlier like i did on reddit but this site ho'd me and didn't post it after posting it was already posted. oh well. trust me if you go on reddit or otherwise it's there.   I think I've mentioned it before on here that I am above average with astrology, but I'm not an astrologer. I've never been trained on how to actually read the charts, how to make the charts. I've never taken any classes on it. What I've learned is simply through grit and connecting with other novices and pulling together information. and just amalgamating slash being alchemical And bare bonesing it, you know, like raw dogging it. But as I've shared on my previous points. my intuition is like Doja cats lyrics. Trust me, I got magical foresight. so I might not have all the understanding in three D of the words, the vernacular, the structure, the format, the step by step to do things. especially with people that are more versed in these esoteric and magic school and mystery school or any of these long standing principles and all the stuff in the mystic spiritual magic world, right?   It's like the vibe of not being a pedigree, but being a scrappy, rough misfit. LOL.   So I know more than the average person about astrology, but in the world of astrologers, I know nothing.       I've been riding extremely about this balance and holding the line when it comes to how the. Michael male divine energy engages with the feminine. Sophia Divine feminine original source energy. And because in this life I'm alternative, I'm kinky. I'm. BDSM y. I'm polyamory. in a world where I was meant to be in the sauce and I was meant to be. physically engaging with people in a romantic sexual. real life kind of realm. categorizing myself in my past experiences. But before I came to realize I'm supposed to be more of a teacher and I'm not supposed to really hold that. because when you start holding that, you lose the higher perspective. You lose like the higher realm of it. right? but before I figured that out and I was trying to get lost in the sauce, I've always. expressed relating to the opposite sex in a very Non mainstream way. So it's like, as I continue to write the way that my divine feminine resonates on Earth is with the other alternative girls. I'm connected to the divine feminine with the dark goddess energy, with the bad babe energy. with the girlies who are with the mafia vibe, who are with the gangsters who are with the dominance, who are with the. people running the emotional, physical, mental, sexual. edge.   Just like cyberpunk. 2077. I'm with the edge runners. Not all women are like that. Most women aren't like that. Not all men are like that. A lot of men aren't like that. And in the spiritual world, I have found most of them are very love and light and asexual to begin with. So it's like the way. I'm channeling this message is for a very unique small subset of people. But even in the confusion and stuff, I know what I'm seeing. I know what I'm I'm supposed to write about. I know I'm supposed to say I know the message that I'm spreading even. if I don't necessarily know who I'm supposed to spread it to. I know I got the goods. Deep down. and even if these goods never turn into anything but these notes like I know that there's something magic going on. Hashtag being a projector, hashtag being a instinctual spleen at projector hashtag having the juxtaposition cross of assimilation bringing in crazy ass concepts that are forward thinking. so ka. so desu ne. Unrelated side note. Because I am an anime snob I do not like the digital animation and the styling. Of the I watched this show because I am deeply into the fandom. I literally not being facetious, but probably two years straight watching over 15 people play the game as much as. much as they completed it and I have never seen anyone complete the game. I saw one person on You Tube from Australia that was a lady get very close to completing the game but then felt pressured to do phantom liberty without finding all the side missions and side things and stopped to go to Phantom Liberty to appease her. fandom. but yes, I went very deep into this whole lore of cyberpunk. and so I felt I needed to watch this show in order to honor the essence of it and the message that this amazing franchise had and I Like I do most modern anime was slightly disappointed. Didn't feel much from it. Got a little bit from it, but a lot of people love how that style of medium of art is nowadays. And I'm on purpose, not on the same. not on the same vibe. I went to a club that was anime based. And I came across a younger guy. that was still an adult, obviously. But he said, I'm stuck in the past and I said yes on purpose. and he was like the 90s and I was like actually to be specific. I'm stuck in the 1970s to 2005 talking about bigger concepts like Leji matsumoso Galaxy Express 999. space operas. Tenchi muyo slayers. ah megumi sama sailor moon, serial experiments lain, neon genisis evangelion, even lighter stuff like mermaid melody pichi pichi, metropolsis the ova. When I look at something, I'm looking to learn to expand my soul, grow, get the channeled message. I'm not here for shits and giggles and fun. 99% of the time when I'm consuming, it's like I'm doing this as an unpaid job, like as a message. So this stuff nowadays that I've been introduced to does not have a message. So I do not relate to it. I'm a bad girly with a mission. And I'm very serious about it. And because I'm human, I might go astray. I might slip. I might fall, but I'm always straight back to the motherfucking mission in the day.   I'm always going to be talking about relationships and sexuality and spirituality and all that, because I've literally my entire adult life, have been wired that way. And I was. probably starting to get trained to do that when I was a minor in. probably more appropriate manners. and spirit. But I just been feeling like this message of unity on your sovereign path and not getting lost in the entanglement and the ties....passion....of sexuality and fleetingness of of. obsession and fixation and getting off track because of the pool of what the opposite person might do. And St true to you and like holding into that and seeing how so many women, especially because when you're on the edge, you're dealing with More intense chemicals in your body. You're dealing with more power play. You're dealing with it on a higher level than the average person. It's like I I've just been like talking about getting in the sauce and how it it leads to at least on the woman's side cause I'm a woman, then being down bad and their lives literally ruined like either physically, mentally, emotionally. Unfortunately, sometimes sexually, like that's the the gamble playing on the edge that when you fall, you fall harder than someone that's just totting the line. But because the dark goddesses are out there seeking truth on deeper depth and dark corners, they're willing to take that risk. I'm assuming, you know, you guys, I guess I'll call you dark gods. I have an awareness, but again, I just don't have a penis. I don't have that energetic masculine quality. I'm more of a panther. You guys are more like lions. Like III see it, but I just really can't tap into it. I can only observe. So I'm guessing same thing for y'all, but I can't say it from the core of my soul because that's just not what I was meant to do this time around. And a parmy hates to say stuff that isn't 100 percent confirmed. LOL. To the best of my confirmation at least, or to the best of my sourcing.   All this to say, my astrology hasn't gone to the level of looking at the transits or the. conjunctions. I know what they are. I can read when I see it on a chart, but it's not something I know how to make my own. It's

COFFEE AND ME I awaken to your gentle licks upon my labia what a way to start your day!!!! You assist me with my toileting needs.......you dressed me and then you take me to the kitchen..... you bring me my cup of coffee and a slice of raisin toast..... you get in position on all fours so I can put my feet up while I browse the net and enjoy my coffee and toast. I  enjoy rubbing my feet on your naked body, my feet across your balls and your lil pussy cock. You are very easily stimulated with my every touch. I do enjoy arousing you💦💦💦💦💦! I rub my foot under your belly and to the Head of your cock you are dripping my pet👅 I command you to turn over on your back...... lying flat as I drip some  butter near your navel.....I rub it through your thin hairy patch with my toes and then down to your cock with a nice even spread You like that don't you my pet....... I think to myself will I allow you to cum today....... spreading the butter  of your dick and feeling  it throb and get harder with my every touch makes me very moist......... I outline your lips with my big toe and then tell you to lick it........ I lean over taking the spoon from my coffee and rub it on your balls and I notice your cock is so hard for me but I need you to relax so I give your balls a nice little slap with the spoon.......... you let out a moan. I run the spoon up your shaft to the head of your cock moving it slowly in a circular motion then back down the shaft to your balls with another 4 slaps I then lean back and relax and allow you to lick all the butter off my foot........ my nipples are very hard and I can't resist caressing them as you clean all the butter off my foot like a good pet......... your tongue sliding through each of my toes making my nipples hard..... I'm  rubbing them and and my pussy is so moist and throbbing........ I take my cup of coffee and drip a little bit of the warm tasty liquid on my nipples.......slowly I lick my hard nipples! Gently pinching and pulling them. I bring my nipple to my mouth and slowly  suck off the sticky sweet warm coffee........Oh yes my pussy is throbbing and I know I'm about to cum........you sucking my toes and rubbing my foot like a good little pet....... make me explode my pet...........WOW  

I feel the cold metal of my collar against my skin, a constant reminder of my new reality. I had signed the contract and now, I wait, could be now, or maybe never. The system decided who bought me, who owned me, but until that day, no taxes. I got to live tax free from the moment that collar locked, I was no longer a tax paying citizen. I was just merchandise on a shelf.The beep that echoes through the bookstore signals my salvation and damnation in the form of a large, commanding man. Baxter. He rushes toward me, his eyes filled with a primal hunger that sends a shiver down my spine. His hands roughly grab my arms, pulling me close as he examines me, his gaze intense and unyielding. I can't help but feel a sense of awe at the sheer size of him, the power that radiates off his body. "You're mine now," he growls, his voice deep and rough. His thumb brushes against the collar, a single drip of his blood and the control was engaged and I feel a jolt of electricity run through me at his touch. I'm his to command, his to use as he sees fit. He leads me out of the bookstore, his grip tight on my arm. People on the streets shaking their heads, another collared removed from the system, less government money wasted. I can't help but feel a sense of excitement as I follow him, my body tingling with anticipation. I've been waiting for this moment for so long, my training leading up to this very moment, to take the collar you have to serve years if service school, but no bills, no taxes, and after the rules all changed, I had no choice. As we enter his home, he turns to me, his eyes blazing with hunger. "Undress," he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument, the collar filling with heat. I comply, my hands shaking as I remove each piece of clothing, revealing my curves to his gaze. He watches me, his eyes taking in every inch of my body. "Kneel," he orders, and I obey, my heart pounding in my chest. He approaches me, his fingers tracing the outline of my collar. "You're mine now," he repeats, his voice softer this time. Then his hand clicks the l

I want to roleplay as a cheerleader. You command me to cheerlead for you as you play a sport in front of a crowd.  However before I go out there you force me to wear clamps on my nipples, embrassing panties and stick a dildo in my pussy. As I try to cheer, you turn on the vibrator in the dildo and make me drip my juices while making it impossible for me to cheer properly Then when you lose you take me to the locker room, tell me I lost because of my useless cheer leading, while taking the dildo and pumping it in my.pussy while against a locker You then take out your cock and slowly pull out the dildo, but then give me no tike.to.rest as you shove your cock in me. You take out your frustrations on me while im in bliss while holding my pompoms, and cheering your cock. Your teammates then come in looking defeated and as they see us they join in to get their frustration out. The entire team then take their cocks and shower me in their juices while I wave my pompoms and my cheerleading out turns from red to white. You then put me back in your sports bag while im in estacy and say that you're going back to train me again so the team doesnt lose again.

I walked in, saw her, sat down and was pleased when she lowered her eyes from mine.  The munch suddenly didn't smother like usual. I took her home, got down to skivvies, but she wouldn't lower them for her spanking, which earned her an introduction to Earnie.  Rhino Hide thudds so soundly.  She kept begging for more. After I came all over her back, I got her dressed and we sat down over coffee, and talked.  She was slightly annoyed when the subject of her masculine gender taped up under those skivvies had not been her giveaway.  I had spotted her as the CrossDresser she was, in the same breath that I spotted her deeply seated masochism.  We spent the summer bruising her.  I did insist on silk panties for the rest of our sessions.  It does a wonderful job of administering a bruise from the cane or batt that cotton tiddy-whities cannot.  I built stocks, hoisting timbers, made leather suspension cuffs that broke when we tried them.  I was crushed, darn it.  Stuck to shibari after that.

I need to update my profile here, long overdue. My profile that is currently posted, is one that was written when I first join CS. Since then, through the years of properly being mentored, learning, and maturing in the lifestyle, my outlook and perspective on the lifestyle has changed greatly. Over the years, I have learned that the lifestyle has much more to offer than just kinky, hurtful play and sex. People who have that mentality, do not really take time to appreciate and cherish the finer aspaspects of having a submissive or slave that puts herself out there just to please others. Although my current profile states what I'm looking for, doesn't really mean that I have the improper attitude. My attitude has greatly changed, and if you take the time to learn more about me or others that inquire into your profile, you might find a hidden jewel in this rubbish heap on this site. I, as a Master, is not into this lifestyle for the kinky sex, but for it to greatly enhance the relationship, to make it strong, safe, to enhance growth in each other, make each other grow and be fulfilled. Most importantly, I desire and will make my submissive or slave feel appreciated and cherished in everything she does, and to give her that balance of the vanilla and lifestyle is important. There are other aspaspects that go along with the relationship that are just as important as well. This might give the impression that I'm not a strict Master or Dominate, for I can be strict, but fair, and generous as well. I'm a laid back easy type of guy, but I'm observant and knows whats going on. I'm not a pushover by any means. Whatever you do, don't judge a book by its cover.... you might lose out on a jewel!

 I would acctept a female submissive to teach a sissy the ways of womanhood. I don't form sissies from scratch, will advise ones already shaved smooth, wearing panties and a plug. sissies should be wearing a plug on their own, they don't need a Master telling them to. a plug is not to stretch them but to teach them relax and let it enter and to clench on the narrow neck to tone their sissy pussy. they should learn to milk a cock thrust into it's loins, also a sissy should pick it's  own sissy or femme name to identify with, not wait for a Master to give it one. if they want to rename the sissy, so be it. if you're a Mistress or a Wife that has a sissy you think needs a little or a lot of Male interaction I can visit, even stay for a few days to do so. DB I have a room already set up for MY sissy. it has a bed, small bondage table, a tall stool, a cage and boxes and shelves of toys, cuffs, collars,straps and other supplies. 

My Master naturally controls my sex life. I'm not allowed to plesure myself without His permission; interestingly, He prefers that I don't wear my chastity cage: He says He wants me to build my self control and deny myself willingly for Him.   I am proud I am able to do this not just because it means I'm doing what I'm told but because it's a way of showing Him how much He mans in my life. When W/we speak on Skype though, and I know He is watching me (even though Master chooses not to tun on His camera), then He allows me to dip my hand into my panties and play with myself. That positive reinforcement between meetings with my Master and sexual pleasure is very powerful at many levels. At a purely physical level the association is fairly clear, but I also like the psychological dimension - the idea that I only get pleasure when He gets pleasure (from watching me). It's so helpful in weaning me away from my old fake life in which I thought only of my own pleasures and accepting my new slave life where my pleasures count for nothing. Only Master matters.    

I've recently had the chance to think about TPE more, and I decided that there are ultimately four types, three of which I consider acceptable. In order of intensity, there is first the type, which is simply pushing past where a sub/slave would normall safeword, but not pushing so far that the subconcious is actually forced to acknowledge that they are not in control. This is a stage where a slave is usually begging or angry. The second is the type that I practice currently. Pushing past where people think their limit is, past the second limit where their subconscious gives and realizes that it can only endure, but not going past the last one. The one that makes the mind retreat and can cause trauma. I just brush up against it. The third is when someone deliberately breaks through that last barrier, repeatedly doing so in order to shape the slave into what they desire, using that shaping to subsume other desires and wants, to change who they are at the core level. This is acceptable when a Master has the time, will, and facilities to manage fully breaking a slave, and a slave has agreed beforehand. The last is just the territory of psychopaths, just breaking for the sake of breaking, to do as much damage as possible, and only for their own amusement.

He placed a small locked case on the table. "One more step," he said calmly. "Not because you have to—but because I want you to understand what surrender really feels like." I looked at the case, my pulse quickening. It wasn't the object itself that unsettled me. A chastity device.  It was what it represented: giving up control, trusting someone else, and committing to the journey I'd begun. "You can still say no," he reminded him. After a long silence, i nodded. He explained the rules. The device wasn't a punishment; it was a symbol of discipline, patience, and intention. If i chose to wear it, the decision would be respected, and either of us could end the exercise at any time. As the lock clicked shut, i felt an unexpected calm. The moment wasn't about humiliation. It was about crossing another threshold, leaving behind hesitation, and embracing a side of himself I'd hidden for far too long.

5 years experience of a FLR submissive or slave man who drives/has his own car and lives in Essex/Kent is what I seek. What messages me? A weirdo from India. Blocked zero reply. So damned boring all these fetish delivery chasers=My blocking finger is in use alot. Yawn. I am at my local munch tomorrow night 6.30pm for dinner and drinks till around 10.30pm ish.  Mawney Arms, Romford. I am with kinksters friends as I am not the host. Come on you guys who moan where are all the Mistresses??? There are plenty, just read these journals from Dominant Women who block tw*ts who don't behave well. Guys who just want their a*ss f*cked is not submission it's anal sex. Even swingers do that. Look at your intent men, make sure your intent is to MAKE MY LiFE EASIER NOT TO BE A PAIN IN THE ARSE.  If you are a nuisance and over familiar I will block you.  I left CS for FiVE years and didn't miss it. I am thinking.of leaving again.    

As we stand at the threshold between years, there is a natural pause that invites reflection. The closing of 2025 is not merely the turning of a calendar page—it is a moment to breathe, to remember, and to take stock of who we were, what we endured, and how we grew. 2025 was a year that asked much of us. It was not a year defined by a single event or headline, but by accumulation—of effort, of resilience, of quiet victories and hard lessons. It was a year that reminded us that progress is rarely loud, and strength is often forged in silence. For many, 2025 began with hope tempered by realism. The world continued to navigate uncertainty—economic shifts, global tensions, evolving technologies, and changing social landscapes. We were asked to adapt yet again, to rethink how we work, how we connect, and how we care for one another. And while adaptation can be exhausting, it is also proof of endurance. We are still here. This past year reminded us that stability is not guaranteed, but neither is despair. Even in moments of strain, communities showed up. Neighbors helped neighbors. Families reconnected. Friends checked in when it mattered most. In ways both big and small, people chose compassion over indifference—and that choice matters more than we often realize. 2025 also challenged our understanding of time. It moved quickly and slowly all at once. Weeks red together, yet certain moments stand crystal clear: a conversation that changed us, a loss that reshaped us, a success that reminded us of our own capability. These moments form the true record of a year—not the dates, but the meaning we attach to them. For some, 2025 brought achievement—goals reached, milestones earned, dreams realized after years of effort. For others, it brought disappointment, delay, or grie

For those who wonder: That is a 1931 Indian Scout. It is a 3 speed stick shift, 750 cc.It was my dads bike when I was a little kid.He lost it on a sandy curve in 1953 and hit a tree which bent the frame.It laid out in one of our fields up until about 1985 or so.My friend talked my dad out of it and spent nearly 40 years trying to rebuild it. My friend sold it back to me last year but it still would not run. I sent it to a guy in Grand Rapids Mi who specializes in them and he got it running again.I got to ride it last year for the first time since 53.It is a beast to ride. Weighs 850 pounds, has a high compression engine with kick start that can throw a man over the handle bars if it kicks back which it does from time to time.It has a hundred rules you have to observe. It has no crankcase for one, which means the engine oil takes up half of that gas tank and every now and then, you have to hand pump some oil to the engine. Give it a couple of pumps to start it, a pump now and then when ridding, an extra pump to go up a hill or if going fast.It is left hand throttle and right hand magneto advance or retard and you have to advance it, the faster you go. Left foot for the clutch right foot for the rear brake, right hand for the front brake. To shift, it is pull back for first, then two forward for second and third.The brakes are clam shell instead of disk brakes so you have to start braking sooner than a modern bike.There are lots more idiosyncrasys but those are the highlights.

I believe daily humiliation is necessary to keep a slave in its place. Keep it naked and on display as i tell it what a cunt whore it is. Repeat often that its only value is the value I give it.   Remind the slave that it is not a person but My property. Tell it that it no longer has rights, opinions or independent thoughts. Tell it those things are reserved for people and it is not people Call attention to the wetness of its fuck hole as I call it names. Enlighten it to the fact that its hole wouldn’t be dripping if it didn’t enjoy being treated like the cunt it is. Write demeaning things on its body as I tell it that I'lll use its holes as they were meant to be used. Tell it that its mouth is now its top cunt, its ass is now its rear cunt and its pussy is now its front cunt. Keep it naked, show off its udders, rear cunt and front cunt to whoever You choose. Make it suck Me and use it as a masturbation device in front of My friends. Talk about it as if it isn't even present.   Laugh at it when it tries to make a decision on its own.   Make it eat My left overs covered in My cum out of a dog bowl at your feet as I enjoy My dessert. Slap its face when it doesn’t sit correctly with its legs spread open. These, among other things will keep the slave in its place. In a short time I'll have a perfectly obedient, cock hungry, happy slave at My feet willing to do anything it needs for My praise and use.

It's the down days, with the beating sun and the drawn shades, keeping the outside out and the inside in...the days where the tears finally grab hold and the tissues are everywhere. It's the days where one pm could be 10 am or 730pm and none would know, for i remain alone, always alone. My friends are few and far between. My heart landed on the curb and i keep waiting for someone to pick it up and hand it back, though i know better. It was stolen and now it doesn't fit in my chest anymore. So whenever i breathe the sound is like an empty drum for the beat does not even echo. The hurt is like a neon glow in the dark super ball that just bounces from surface to surface, so i can't quite steady it, or myself. It's still light outside. My watch never made it to my wrist. And luck flew like a hummingbird, out of sight. And the man i love...cannot love me. So i sit and pretend that once upon time i was happy and once upon a time i will be, again.   zamarra/aka eslavegirl 7/14/24

So glad to finally be back. I have attempted to make an account and it wouldn't allow for it. I miss the CM days with the chat feature...I am finding it quite interesting that there are so many users, fellow Kinksters still remaining here for so long. Many of the new apps and sites are seemingly full of hook-up seekers. Not genuine Dominants.  If You read this, please note: I am not here for cyber and I am not looking to be collared overnight...this is a process and both parties MUST have needs filled. Thanks For Reading! 

a nite out w/my Dom&Domme Tonite was to be my cumming out. i dressed in my simple black dress & w/Your help my garter belt, cheeks-hi fashion black stockings & peep toe heels that framed my shiny fluorescent pink nails. Sir, bent me over, slapping my cheeks made me spread them inserting a jeweled butt plug. Bent over my balls were hanging low. Taking advantage of that You forced them thru several rings adding  weight. Then pulling my clit back separated each into two enormous labia. When i stood straight You were holding  pink thong which i slipped into. Pulling it high on my hips it seated the butt plug so it would tickle my G-spot with every step +  making a huge, Camel's foot obvious. i donned my blonde wig,  blondes do have more fun, You added my pink collar + Rainbow leash & w/one of You on each arm off we go to a local LBGTQ bar. i was most anxious entering the crowded bar, buTT You lifting my hem striped my butt with Your crop teling me to strut like ths slut i am. So i made it to a stool, hiked up my dress to sit & ordered Your drinks. The sexy barkeep with a wink asked mine & You told her, "she'll have a CD Cocktail" soon enuf, L0l! Sure enuf we'd attracted attention. to be Continued? 

a throw back...then and now...how i talk about the spiritual dominant man and the slave woman referencing brooklyn baby in 2015 vs 2024. my writing and perspective growth   a bit not complete because the two service oriented and protection images i have shared back in 2015 cannot be added here due to the wonky layout of the site.   yes i've been writing about this for quite awhile on different platforms. i was going through my facebook where i first started writing this and trying to i don't know..gain some sort of dialogue, community, connection, recognition, semblance of back and forth over it back then and mostly stopping when i was met with silence and or resistance. nowadays i come to understand that my writings are more for me and while i'd love to find a community or people or to turn this into something more be ok if all that happens is it lands and holds a space on the sentience that is the internet! i wrote about my thoughts about brooklyn baby as the little girl and the daddy romantic power dynamic figure back in 2015.....somehow almost 10 years later i forgot about it.. and with my new lived spiritual, energetic, and cosmic awareness i recently wrote about it in 3-4 posts here. i asked my lovely chat assistant to compare and contrast...how do i approach the same lana del rey song  10 years ago vs now? what my writing style and my awareness used to be back then: "i was initially going to keep this on my fetlife side but after a request i am putting this on here too. dual post. talking about power dynamic stuffs, nothing sexually graphic but this is the okay with everything tag anyway so..ya know that'd be cool too .my vanilla friend on facebook posted a bunch of old 1950s ads which had of course a lot of natural male lead household media since that's how things were back then without options or visbilities of choice or other ways to live.   when i came across this one it made me a mix  of how cute, something i very much miss and one of those loss moments all into one.(first photo)this was the photo that stuck out the most to me. in both my  real life real time offline daddy/little girl relationships this was something that i frequently did and looked forward to doing on dates or as the first one when we eventually moved in together.it was comforting to have a routine to follow. to know what to expect was going to happen. it was safe and quieting for me to know that my man was safely allowing me to serve him in a way that was going to get rewarded, acknowledged, praised, and vauled for.it always goes back to this for me(second photo). added, i just found the full quote of where the second image takes its quote from..and it just fits what all of it was/what i wanted it to be/what i was hoping to get:"“I loved having a dad who was smarter than the New York Times, and I loved how my cheek could feel the hairs on his chest through his T-shirt, and how he always smelled like shaving, even at the end of the day. Being with him made my brain quiet. I didn't have to invent a thing.”― Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close"to find someone who makes me believe that they understand all of me and my crazy mentalness and the challeneges of my antisocial mom and all my brokenness and stays and commits to providing structure and care and rough brawns is just one of the biggest gifts in the world that could be given. and being able to care for them and thank them for the service and direction and guidance they provide is easy. is comforting and nice. with my first daddy parts of this translated into getting him his diet coke in the morning, picking out clothes for him, and getting his english muffin heated and buttered before he leaves for work. usually it invovled a kiss goodbye as well. i did this until he told me he no longer felt able or willing or wanting to be a daddy to me and he wanted us to be equals. after that i did it off and things just pretty much started to crumble after that...but while that was a standard for the 3 years we lived together i never felt obligated to...when i was sick he would do so. if i was late or off i would do what i could.  but i never felt obligated or had to or that it was out of my way to do so.with my last ex we never got to the point of living together. instead when i would go over to his house or i would rent hotels for us i would help him get dressed and i would usually buy him something to drink or some sort of item for breakfast. getting my daddy all set for his day was a big honor and fufilling feeling that i had. it was one of the top 5 things that felt right and complete for me.in return usually as with my first one he would help provide a chunk of the income to help take care of us and while i wanted to work full time i didn't find any full time work while we were togehter except the first few months of us being together. i would get tenderness and emotional care and consideration and gentle leading i never had. what i got in exchange just felt right.and in the further discussion of this and the ability of choice now my friend pointed out in regards to the times back then, 'wouldn't want to be frumpy' and thank goodness we don't have to be dressed up at all times.over the years i've changed and grown into being more femme with my outer apperance and playing with makeup. with my first daddy i didn't have that many clothes....but i did like dressing up for him. and with my last one of the things that just made all of my heart soar along with my little girl's heart and core was for him to take the time to commit to dressing me every day.this actually didn't work out because he started slacking and saying for me to just pick after he committed to it..one of the many signs...of course...but it went back to the safe contained space for mea safe contained space of my worthy man being able to take the time, energy, and effort to tell me how he'd like me to look like for the day.  the addition of no surprises and routine and knowing at all times i am to his pleasing. it was an intimate thing to be taken in and looked at and appreciated and fawned over for being such an addorble femme being. and one that was held and cherished and well cared for and taken like a prized possession. at least the idea that this was happening was. none of it was deameaning or a bother. i always had energy to get dressed up or to do what i can to help out. these are some of the things i miss the most and grieve over losing forever.funny how small little things bring  up things like this.i'm not sure why..but this song brooklyn baby by lana del rey really  fits the mood i'm expressing here. especially the vocal sound of it:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T5xcnjAG8pE" i got a really sweet comment from someone that i'll anonymous share. it was the only comment i got from it, but on facebook back then pretty shocking i would've gotten any at all with a concept that radical back then. "J - I'm speechless. That was an incredibly powerful and beautifully written post! Truly! Thank you for sharing it here. All I can think of to say is that you are a very fine human being...and whomever you spend time with, they are LUCKY and fortunate to have found YOU. You are such a smart, beautiful and gifted soul. It's an honor to be your friend, my dear! ❤

If you do not have permission all ready to live and work in the USA, then I am not interested in you.It is very difficult to emigrate to the USA.  I cannot sponsor you - not from lack of will, but because of the rules.I have nothing against potential slaves contacting Me, but I will NOT sort out immigration issues for you.    I also will not wait until you do.  It can take years.So, if you all ready have permission to live and work here or dual citizenship - great.   If not -  don't bother contacting Me.See the US Immigration website for the rules.

Since adding journal entries won't cause my profile to need re-approval, I'm adding this after reading some of the profiles on the site.   I'm looking for trans Dommes or switches. No men or women unless you're exceptional, sorry, I've been attracted to trans women since 2011 (I was bisexual then). I'm not looking for sub trans girls because being a Domme doesn't really come naturally to me. I can be a Domme for sure, have been for years since it's so hard to find Dommes of both the trans and cis types. I also met too many subs and was interested in cyber RPs a lot then. Not so much anymore unless you're really good, because my tastes have changed over 15 years.   I very rarely chat to couples though I used to meet good ones on Reddit. Maybe 1 so far. It depends on if you're sincerely interested in trans girls or sissies.   I like watching gangbang and reverse gangbang porn, but probaby won't do it IRL. Not even a sissy orgy which I dream about so often. Fantasies and reality should be separate. I want someone exclusive in general, and please don't contact me if you're part of or looking for a poly household. Couples or being part of a throuple (a third wheel, not a fourth), will be very rare if at all and I'd probably be looking for my own lover anyway even if I was part of one, so you might be better off contacting someone who's poly.   I watch cuckold and cuckquean porn, and it'll be most likely a polite no if you're interested in acting out those things IRL. I don't mind acting as the occasional sissy cuck who cleans up a woman after she gets a huge fat cock, or maybe as the trans bull in some situations. Depends on what mood the three of us are in. I also do think of cuckqueaning trans or cis women sometimes, such as tying them up and making them watch me with a younger or sexier chick with bigger tits and an arse. That said, those RPs will probably be for hookups only, and I'd avoid them in general. I don't want to get into a relationship and destroy it with either type of cucking, though if you have strong fantasies about it, we can roleplay it anytime. For example, with dildos, fleshlights, body forms, etc.    If you're a cuckoldress or a polyandrous hotwife/polygamous couple/polygynous Dom, please avoid contacting me unless you understand that no matter what, I won't be completely submissive to you forever or a 'perfect cuckold'. I could be in the bedroom during the RP and Dom if you ask me to have sloppy seconds later, but I won't be exclusive to you at all or a complete slave, unless you can devote yourself to me as a Domme in the exact same way.    I prefer gentle, caring Mommy Dommes instead of heartless and cruel bitch Dommes, though I don't mind some sadistic and humiliating or hurtful RPs if you enjoy them too. I just want a Domme to serve who isn't selfish and all about herself, which seems to be most of them. A Domme is slightly more in charge of the relationship than her sub, but it doesn't mean she ignores and disregards her sub's feelings. Think of the dynamic in the same way as a male Dom who has to take care of his sub as well even if he dominates her, or else she'll find someone else.   If you didn't take note of this in my previous journal entries, please don't contact me at all if you're a pro Domme or expect any sort of tributes and dumb contracts to be signed which only benefit you. I've seen them all and IDC in the slightest about paying to act as if I'm being cared for. Some of you are disappointed in what you find online and IRL, and I don't really blame you because most subs and Dom/mes aren't very good at what they claim to do. It's very frustrating to put in efforts for your relationships or dates and find someone who half-arses it. I get it, but your previous disappointments have nothing to do with me, and vice versa. I've had enough people contact me on here and other social media explaining that a Domme needs tribute to show obedience and that you feel you've wasted enough time putting in efforts for useless subs. It's a joke and a pretty laughable reason. I've heard of enough pseudo-Dommes who ask for money and then vanish without giving a promised video or RP, or the ones who realize that it can be a very easy cash grab and pretend to be exclusive while contacting a million subs to get money up front, and then release nothing or piss-poor quality content. I don't see why my money should go to a user or liar, and I probably have no reason to trust people more than they trust me. We can just keep it mutually beneficial and respectful without exchanging money or false promises, and if that doesn't work out, we move on.   Happy hunting, all.

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?  

I DO NOT AND WILL NOT GIVE MASTERS ANY SORT OF FINANCIAL DOMINATION. Had a really bad experience with a Dom who asked me for money every week, even though I told her I was getting screwed over by an airline that owed me money. If you want me to give you control over my finances please look for someone else who has that kind of stability to support you.    

There is a reason I don't mention my father often. Yes, I have father issues. Yes, it has helped shape who I am and what I try to overcome and who I try to be and not be. Let's talk about that. About him. If psychological family philosophy isn't of interest you may want to skip this one.  My father is a selfish, self centered, chauvanistic bully. Always has been, and he has no idea that he is. A lot of excuses have been made for his behaviors. He grew up doted on, his father was the same, blah blah blah, excuses. Now, I've known for some time that I am both more intelligent and emotionally aware than all of my parents. Still, I think people should recognize their own behaviors and adjust accordingly. Silly expectations, that's on me.  He makes me feel like a second class citizen. My opinion doesn't matter, my thoughts aren't worth paying attention to, he is right and I am wrong. It has created a lot of issues for me going all the way back to when I was a little PPC. Everything is a confrontation. It's never a question of curiosity, it's always a derogatory statement in the form of a question with a side of judgment and attitude. And it gets my back up. So I shoot back. Most people do not. I can't help it. And I know it just makes it worse because he won't back down for anything and won't see beyond needing to be the loudest. I'm trying to do this while feeling like a second class citizen and a lifetime of being dismissed, and I fumble a lot but I'm trying to stand up for myself and stand up to him and his opinions. It's scary difficult. It takes a lot out of me. It carves emotional scars a little deeper than they are.  I can honestly say that he has had girlfriends I would have traded him in for and if he died tomorrow I'd very likely be okay with it. I'm not heartless. I do a lot for him, I try to be a good daughter even though he's not been a very good father. I've come to terms with that fact. It can't be changed. He wouldn't own up to it if confronted. It is what it is. It took a long time to come to that.  An entire Thanksgiving meal just for the two of us since the rest of the parents couldn't be here. I ruined it at least three times, according to him. And my kitchen is too cluttered. And I need to do this and that. And I wait on him, bring him things, clean up after him, and stop talking when he ignores me for scrolling on his phone. I both wish and would never wish for you to actually feel this. It's so heavy on my brain, on my heart.  He left this morning and I am elated. I have a whole weekend to recover. To put my house back together. To erase him from my life until Christmas, when he will buy me things he likes without thinking about what I like or asking what I could use or looking at my wish list created for this very purpose, and I'll pretend to ooh and ahh and hope there are gift receipts. Prick. 

Its been a loing time, but the writing bug bit again since Christmas. I have a novella pretty close to completetion. Looking for volenteers to help edit it. Here is the synopsis an AI created for it: In a shattered world ruled by ruthless megacorporations, eighteen-year-old Sophia clings to the last independent farm outside the megacity. Each night she dreams of the same man — tall, blue-eyed, commanding — who pins her against walls and claims her body with effortless authority.  When the farm faces ruin, her desperate parents send her to the black skyscraper that purchases beautiful, impoverished girls. Few ever return.  Under a merciless spotlight, Sophia meets the man from her dreams. He sees in her a rare, natural submissive ready to be broken and remade.  Stripped, examined, collared, and renamed Initiate 37XY8C, Sophia begins her transformation from frightened farm girl to obedient pleasure slave in a hidden world of absolute power and perfect surrender. A dark, intensely erotic dystopian tale of total submission.    

“The Lesson in the Red Chair – Part 3: Verbal Edging” T.L. Duncan He knelt in front of the red chair, shoulders tight, breath uneven, hands locked behind his back like that was the only thing stopping him from falling apart. And honestly? It probably was. I stayed behind him for a moment, letting silence claw at the edges of his self-control. Then I moved — not touching him — just stepping close enough for my presence to wrap around him like a velvet noose. “You’re trembling,” I said quietly. His exhale stuttered. “I’m not even touching you, and you’re already at the edge, aren’t you?” “Yes, Ma’am… I— I think so.” “You think?” I echoed with a soft laugh. “Oh no, sweetheart. You’re not thinking anything. You’re reacting.” He moaned under his breath — that small, broken sound a submissive makes when they’ve lost the ability to lie to themselves. I circled him slowly, deliberately, letting nothing but my voice tether him in place. “You know what I want?” I whispered. “I want to watch you come undone without a single finger laid on you.” His breath hitched as if he’d been struck. “That’s impossible,” he whispered. I leaned down, letting my lips come close to his ear without touching it. “Then why,” I murmured, “are you already right there?” His entire body shook. Good. I stepped in front of him, lowering myself into the red chair like a queen taking her rightful throne. He kept his eyes down, not daring to look. “Show me your face,” I commanded. He lifted it slowly — flushed cheeks, parted lips, pupils blown wide with need. “You’re sensitive,” I said, voice dipping into velvet dominance. “You’re needy. You’re desperate. And because I said nothing more than a whisper in your ear…” I paused, letting it sink in. “…you’re already fighting not to beg.” He swallowed hard. “Are you?” I asked. “Yes, Ma’am,” he confessed, almost choking on the truth. “Good. Then listen carefully.” I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, letting my voice soften into a dark, seductive purr. “You’re going to hover right at the brink for me. Not from touch. Not from permission. But because your body responds to my voice more than it responds to your own will.” His breath trembled — fast, shaky, frantic. “You feel it, don’t you? That pull right behind your hips?” He nodded. “That ache low in your stomach?” “Yes, Ma’am…” “That tightening right at the base of your spine?” His moan gave me the answer long before his words could. “That’s mine,” I whispered. “That reaction belongs to me.” He whimpered — quiet, helpless, undone. “Now breathe for me,” I instructed. He took a shaky breath in. “Slower.” He obeyed. “Good boy.” His knees wobbled. “One more,” I said. “Nice and slow.” He inhaled deeply — too deeply — and his whole body twitched. “There it is,” I murmured. “Right before your body tries to give you relief.” He let out a desperate noise. “Don’t you dare,” I warned, voice dropping to a threat that melted into his bones. “You don’t come. You don’t twitch. You don’t even think about release unless I say so.” His head fell forward as if the weight of that command alone nearly toppled him. I took his chin and lifted it again — slow, controlled, claiming. “Look at me when I ruin you with nothing but my words.” He obeyed. Barely. “Good,” I whispered. “Because now I’m going to talk you right to the edge… and keep you trembling on it until the only thing left in your world is my voice telling you no.” His lips parted. His breath broke. He was right there. And I hadn’t touched him once. He was trembling so hard his breath came in little broken fragments, his hands still locked behind his back, his eyes wide and fixed on me like I’d become the only anchor he had left. Good. He needed to be that undone for what came next. “Hands behind your back,” I said softly. “Don’t let them move.” “Yes… Ma’am…” “Now listen carefully,” I continued, settling deeper into the red chair. “You’re going to hold the position I tell you. Exactly. No shaking out your limbs, no shifting, no chasing comfort. Service is discipline, not relief.” He swallowed hard. He knew what that meant. He knew his body was already too unstable to make this easy. I smiled. “Present.” He immediately widened his knees, straightened his back, lifted his chest, and locked his gaze just below my chin — the perfect kneeling position. But his breath shivered, rattling through the tension. “Better,” I murmured. “But bring your shoulders back and open your throat.” He obeyed. His neck stretched beautifully when he lifted his chin, exposing everything from clavicle to pulse point. Vulnerable. Trusting. Swaying slightly from the lingering edge I’d whispered him into. “You’re still trembling,” I observed. “I… can’t help it, Ma’am…” I tilted my head with cool amusement. “You can. And you will. Hold your posture.” He tried. Gods, he tried — his whole body fighting the urge to fold forward. I let him struggle for a long moment before I said: “Now lower your gaze to the floor… but keep your head high. No collapsing.”