Looking for a untraditional submissive/slave   Im looking for:   Someone who was born a female   Someone who enjoys pleasing   Someone that has and can communicate their desires   Someone that has "little" tendencies but also is secure when I have to handle work   Someone that does not have limitations to your body, because my Dominance is feed by being the catalyst to your extreme satisfaction and a desire to control it.   Someone must be very detailed when taking care of their hygiene   Someone must enjoy receiving and giving oral   Someone thats open to having a physical as well as emotional relationship   Someone that will try to put insecurities down and be free to be with someone that will protect and care for your heart and your body    Someone thats honest with themself and me, I will be your solace Are you or can you grown to this?                

Every time i try to update my profile it either gets discarded or just never seems to update, so i am going to try a journal entry. It's hard to believe i could be much more prepared to meet someone for a serious relationship/position, but i continue to work toward it, hoping someone might one day be there for me. In a perfect world, i would find someone that wanted both a genuine relationship and a very regimented M/s life. It would be wonderful to travel and share a life with a Master, living life as His girlfriend, with hormones and 24/7 femme existence. But to also have the M/s dynamic as a backbone of our relationship. Cuddling on the couch, binging a series but all the while wearing a metal collar, chained wrists, chastity, ass plugged. All of the wonderful things of being a spouse but never once having a moment to think that it is "free" of will or choice. Soaking up whatever attention it's owner is willing to give, working every minute for it's opportunity to get a little positive feedback.  

I regularly get messages asking me what I consider edge play or what is an "extreme" scene that I have done. A few thoughts on this. First, and most importantly, my adventures are no one else's fapping material. I have met people off this site before, but that is more of an exception than a regularity. Sharing something like a story, which is very intimate, or a scene, is asking a lot right off the bat and is something that no one is entitled to. What is considered edge is going to be different for each of us? I am not here to one-up on someone or compare sausages. What is taboo to me? Having someone viewing another person on camera might not seem hardcore, but having cameras set up 24/7 to view on-demand is.  Going out to dinner may not seem hardcore, but my footing the bill can be edgy. Humiliating play may not be edgy, but when you consider mental health, it can be as sharp as a physical knife edge. If you are not on the same wavelength as I am, you will miss the subtleties of how sharp my edge is. 

I’ve been sitting with an idea lately… Something physical. Intentional. Real. Not just another space where people hide behind screens and curated personas—but a place where presence matters. Where energy is felt the moment you walk in. Where structure, atmosphere, and expectation all exist without needing to be explained. A fetish-inspired bar and restaurant.In South Columbus. Not chaos. Not a free-for-all. But a refined environment—where power, dynamic, conversation, and culture can exist in the same room. Where people understand how to carry themselves. Where discretion and awareness aren’t optional—they’re expected. A place where what you are isn’t something you type… it’s something you embody. So I’m curious— Would you actually show up for something like that? Not online interest. Not fantasy support. Would you walk into that space, present yourself properly, and exist within it in a real way? Because ideas are easy. Building something real… requires the right people. — Mistress Nikki Vixen

Str8 males who come to me I always have great respect for them. They take a big chance looking for acceptance and more than anything the experience is submitting. Those must be treated like fine horses, tamed, and trained to take his rider. They may have an idea of what M2M sex is but societal labels forms an impenetrable wall that only a patient and knowledgeable Bull can bridge. They are scared and they rebel when you face them with the reality of the lie they've been living, claiming a masculinity they were no meant to have to begin with. they conformed to societies requirements and that is good for me because it means that they already know what conforming is and once you take control of their life they yours for the long run. Like I said, they may have an idea based on porn and their own views. They are cocky (very few come to me humble) but I always let them know that there are two males speaking one is the Man and it is not them. Devastating as it sounds it will force a reevaluation of their sexual persona and fall to their knees. The main issue is to get them use to a Man's touch and a Man's way. Their entitled attitude makes them think the are to lead but you are the model, you have what they want and never knew and most importantly you are going to give them what they need not what they want. Their wants are irrelevant because as a Bull one knows what they need even before they do. Patience is a virtue but once they get hold of you control they will keep coming back because they know you are the answer to their plight. I don't chase subs , they chase me and I choose. When a str8 male comes to me they will see the reality of their desires and my role as a facilitator is to let them discover the glory of worship in a Phallus and eventually been entered by it. At that moment any pretense of being str8 goes away and the true sub is born. If you play fair they will be yours because you have filled their world with lust and bliss.

    Too afraid to update my profile , as it took me 18 months to get back in last time. You can find me as MaidSlaveGimp   on Fet

Been a while, lots going on! Some really exciting prospaspects coming up so ready to see where this path goes!   on the journey, I'm down under 220... I feel infinitely stronger than I was before and I think I'm going to just have to keep this up! lol I set a new personal record on snatches at 165 for 3 reps! I don't think I could lift that over my head even when I was younger and in good shape so yay!   on the search for the right boy... well let's just say flakes abound and I'm almost over it... oh well...     on an extremely personal level i had something I never expected to happen happen to me (advice appreciated)... I spent 16 years wondering who my birth father was, 3(ish) months trying to build a bridge between us, and 32 years trying to forget... a little over 2 months ago he reached out to me (first time ever) three weeks ago it was "hey really wanna meet with you, just say when and where and I'll be there..." so I told him Monday 1pm at my bar...  *crickets*  I haven't reached out or anything but I really wanna be petty and post how I feel while tagging him since he reached out to me via facebook... I'm turning 49 in just over a week, ive survived this long with out him... maybe I should give up and walk away? Any thoughts?

At Her feet… …a place to kneel in devotion …a place to listen attentively …a place to adore Her mind …a place to worship Her body …a place to understand a lesson …a place to feel home …a place for so much more…

 I am guessing that a lot of men here, and I don’t blame them, really, just want someone to look at their cock and tell them they did a good job by having one. But honestly, is that what D/s is? I thought that a Dom was a man that had figured out how to seduce a woman and liked seduction. I thought the whole point was for them to use their power in ways to see what they could do. Where are these men? I feel like I have more power now than ever and am so disappointed at the lack of creativity and artistry. What is up you guys? Within minutes of making a connection a man says ‘you will be my whore’ which is a bit much, but ok, my dude, let’s see what you’ve got? Make me your whore! Just you telling me I will be your whore really isn’t so effective. Plus you don’t mean it, you might mean you want someone you can jack off to/with, which is cool, but that’s not your whore, that’s just a whore. And being a whore, which is also fine, is not what I am looking to experience. I am surely worth more than that.  When I think about being a man’s whore, well I get very excited. I think about the possibilities for so many interesting and intriguing things, I want to give this person pleasure, I want to focus on them, learn how to serve them. I want us to build a connection that allows for mutuality. I want to want to be really bad for him.   But it’s a relationship and in my mind an important one and perhaps I am wrong but when I offer myself up sexually to someone it’s kind of sacred to me. I take the thing seriously, I am good at devotion.  There have been men that believed they very much wanted me to be their whore, but with the exception of a very few,  they weren’t really getting me, and though they seemed very much committed to ‘the idea of idea’ of the dynamic, they  weren’t able to be realistic- like they lacked maturity or experience. I totally thought I would be able to find someone to teach me something. And I am mean, I am not that evolved. I am sure I have a lot to learn. Are my expectations out of bounds? Am I wrong about what this D/s thing has come to be about? Any sane person out there want to share a prespective on this for me?   No need to attack me, I am seirously just speaking from my own experience.

Subtle Tease of The Day This one is simple. It requires no toys or even touching. You don't even need privacy. Every hour (or a feasible but consistent interval) complete this sentence: "I get aroused when I think of ... and I get wet when I imagine..." That's it. Take a moment or two to fantasize. You don't have to share your thoughts. They are welcome

All of these journals that are being written today..   The sound of muffled feigned pleas whisper in the air of the dark room. The only sharp sounds that radiate through the wind is the sound of the combat heels I adorn and the sound of the whip whirling so eagerly close to your skin. With each push of air towards your bare skin, the whimper of fear and pleasure ring out. Fear of the sting, pleasure from thinking you'll get your way and knowing I'll take care of you. Your wrists and knees are going tired from the face down position you're locked into, repositioning your knees causes more wrist flicks from me. Still there isn't any connections yet. Watching sweat bead down your back, my hand slides up the back up your ass cheek, the sweat making the slick material glove to glide so easily. The movement from your jolting was involuntary, you're spared a smacking with the paddle. You're disappointed and starting to get aggravated. Sitting in front of you, straddling the bench you're leaning over, I'm watching you closely, waiting for the whimpering we both know will be happening soon. The denial of physical touch besides once is tipping your aggravation into pure aggression for satisfaction. The cock gag in your mouth is making you drool right between my thighs, causing me to raise a curious eyebrow.   How long can you wait?

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.

A Raven and a Wolf   He sat, kneeling really, slowly panting, under a soft leather hood. It was laced tightly, almost preventing his every breath. And in the darkness, under the hood, he strained his ears to hear whether she was near, or far. He inhaled, trying to find her scent, but could only smell the leather of the hood. He tried to feel if he could sense her presence closer, but nothing. The air was still. His mouth, dry from nerves, with lips slightly agape, didn't utter a sound.   So he waited, arms bound, shoulder back, chest forward and exposed. Uncomfortably upright.    She sat before him, watching him lazily, like how a cat does with a weakened mouse, very still. A hunter and their prey. She was breathing evenly to hide the excitement pooling inside of her. Hands encased in buttery soft lamb skin gloves, the color of his hood, the color of her whip, the color of blood. The color of her lips. A red so beautiful. Her eyes sparkled at the idea of it coming from his body. Beautiful and broken. She could sense he was searching for her; a slight turn of the head, listening, perhap? Leaning forward gently; trying to smell? Like a dog, she thought, just like a dog. And she sat there far longer than even she desired to see how far this "dog" would go.    "Bark, dog" she commanded in a low voice  And he barked immediately, no hesitation. She pulled back her hand and slapped him, his head jerked, body lurched, chest rising and falling rapidly. A noticeable difference between his legs. There it was again, a hunger to bite into him. Taste his blood. Consume him. But only silence. No whimper, no moan, not a sound escaped him. She wondered if he were bleeding from his cute little mouth. Again she slapped him. Softer than the first, a loving caress, bits of his hair peeked through the laces of the hood and she wanted to grip them and tear them away. Would he let her? Perhaps.    The next slap, and the one after, opposite hand, and he fell forward just enough that his face touched her thighs only separated by the hood and her own stockings. The rule was he wasn't allowed to touch her unless she said. This was a broken rule, however accidental. She stood and let him slump forward in a stupor, supported only by the tension of the rope tied to the foot of the bed.   Bark, dog. Dog. He barked.  Up, dog, and he returned to his previous place, exposed and upright. She stepped forward, the toe of her shoe pressing down on the sensitive flesh of the head of his dick. She crushed it gently until he sat even straighter. She held his head in her left hand, caressed it gently, leather on leather. The smell intoxicating her. Raising her right hand she slapped him again, over and over until her hand grew hot even under the glove. Was he bleeding? She hoped so. She hoped to kiss him and bite his lips and taste his blood. She wished she could see his eyes, dazed, glassy, far away. She caressed his head. And whispered, "you may touch me" and he pressed his face into her hands, her thighs. Still no sound, he was so silent.   "Bark, my handsome boy" and he barked, hoarse and painful as she encircled his neck with her hands. This was his idea, he had inspired in her a lust for choking him until he was nothing and drifting away in the ether. She squeezed, her hands perhaps too small, until he gurgled. She wondered if his eyes were open or if they were dimmed. The hood obscured so much. She squeezed until he seemed to go limp. And she let him. Shoulders yanked uncomfortably under his weight.    He awoke. Arms aching, face hot but no longer enclosed by the hood. He could see her though his vision lacked acuity. She was standing over him, wrapped in pink except for gloves. He yearned for them then. Yearned for them to be around his neck, feeling the bones of her fingers threatening his very life. He wanted to ask for it, for her to choke him, strangle him, but knew it was to her whim that he obeyed. Obeisance was her pleasure. He looked at her, eyes soft, left cheek swollen, lips split ever so slightly and she leaned down and kissed him, sliding her tongue over the drying blood. He kissed her back, gentle, but hungry.    Her kiss was soft but grew more passionate until she bit him and suckled his mouth. Did he love this part of her? The softness before the sting.  She broke the kiss. Her lipstick perfect but her mouth and chin stained crimson with what must have been his blood. "Open your mouth, I'd like to try" she said softly. A shy whisper. So unlike the command to "Bark".  He angled himself upright, head back, lips parting painfully like a little bird. She leaned forward and let her own saliva pool in her mouth and slowly let it fall into his. He shuddered. His excitement excited her and she kissed him again before he could even swallow but this time it was wild and wet. Her saliva all over his mouth, chin, cheeks.    "I have to whip you now, are you ready?" She asked and he nodded. A question was not a command to speak. Dogs do not speak unless commanded to speak. She untied him and his body fell forward. Not used to its old range of motion. His limbs buzzed from having sat in one position for too long. He wondered about how much time had passed. Funny thing, time. Why did it matter now when he was in the moment with her.   Without the hood he realized he could smell her. A warm sweet scent, perhaps arousal. And he thought then about being forced to please her like they talked about in passing, forced until exhausted and even beyond. After play. Her, in her pink, looked like candy and he wanted to lick her. She must be sweet.      She looked down at him and his face was peculiar, his mind was somewhere else and he looked rather cute. But she was jealous at the idea that his mind wasn't on her and she kicked him in the stomach to bring him back to her. He coughed and curled up as she walked to retrieve her whip, preparing for the next step in her courtship.  "Up" she commanded and he got to his feet, winded, bruised. Arms still behind his back. She released them to tie them around the post of the bed. The bed post being the whipping post, isn't it somehow romantic, she thought.    "If you need me to stop, tell me, I won't be gentle otherwise" she said to him, her mouth on his ear. His hair was slicked down with sweat and he smelled musky. She liked his smell. She bit his earlobe and stepped back a couple of feet and threw the whip. Lash after lash until he tried moving away. Pulling at the post until it creaked. She wanted him to cry but he only moaned and groaned, no tears. Just a brow drenched in sweat as his back went from fine pink lines to slowly oozing wounds. If he didn't give her tears then she would have blood.  He pulled desperately as if trying to escape her and she threw the whip furiously, lashing whatever she could reach, his ass, thighs, calves, neck, even the back of his head. The post groaned as if it would break under the strength of him trying to flee.   "Do you want to get away from me?" She asked. His breathing heavy, labored, his body wobbled as blood poured from him, he shook his head no, weakly, and looked over his weeping shoulders with hazy eyes. Finally he spoke, a clear and clean "No, ma'am" from his lips now dry from mouth breathing, swollen from having been bitten and slapped.   The no rang through her body and she leapt at him and kissed and licked his mouth, his shoulders, his back. Barely containing her arousal, her hips moving in slow circles. She was so hungry.&n

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

6/13/2024   I am Wordy... Flirty... a little bit... Dirty. Even so... sending me a message does not guarantee a reply. Some may think that is rude. There are just only a certain number of hours in a day and I am not on here much. MPH

Most of you know it is hard to meet people on the internet. I can not understand why you chat back and forth for weeks and even talk on the phone and then the day we are going to meet everything is shut down. No email no phone. Look I can understand, Shall we say "Life Happens" but a little note or call would be nice. I have steaks thawed in the fridge and actually 2 no shows and not replys for this evening. I spent mass money to make ready for a nice evening. All for fake internet fakes

This is a 45 acre farm. I grew up on it, traveled the world, and came home again.When both parents had passed, I bought out my sisters shares. I stopped all row crops in 2014 and began turning the place into a safe zone for nature.It features a man made lake, spring fed and well stocked with fish. There are 22 acres of tillable land, some woods and rolling hills as well as several rock and flower gardens and roughly 6 or 7 acres of lawn.In 2014, I began to plant trees and flowers in the fields in my attempt to give nature a safe place to be. We have a nesting pair of Bald Eagles, roughly 75 wild turkeys, about 30 head of white tail deer. We more small animals than you could hope to count. The lake is well stocked with fish, large and small mouth bass, crappies, blue gills and sunfish as well as a decent supply of turtles.There are two family homes on this farm and I am selling one of them to my long term renter. There are also two large aluminum pole barns, 60 x 40. In one, I built a large indoor grow with full temperature, light and humidity control and that was a marijuana rental grow from 2014 to this spring. It currently stands empty but I will put it to growing vegetables or mushrooms fairly soon. The other 60 x 40 is being built out as a machine shop.I would really love to find two slaves to work here, (for pay), but in a lifestyle setting. A male/female cuck couple, two females, or a single female to start and help me find another. I feel that two would be the correct number but three is a possibility.I have been  a dominant since birth. I married a submissive in 71 and we are still together. I became  heavily involved in this lifestyle in 96. Now that I am living back on the farm again, I want my 1 or 2 or 3 slaves to come and work this project with me in an ongoing lifestyle arrangement.

20 to 30 play parties pre Covid, and now a few per year for a couple of years.  The real time bdsm community has taken a toll on peoples lives.  I still feel that going real time is the very best way to find like minded partners.  Being real time, you get to see and maybe participate in all kinds of play.  The following is what I’ve experienced real time.   Best kink display Watching a 2 girl pony play scene.  Both girls were topless and wore matching gold and silver outfits, blinders, feathered head pieces, bits and those cool hooved shaped shoes.  They were pulling a chariot.  The spectacle of it was awesome. Watching a flaming double flogger scene.  Awesome   Best outdoor scenes Being chained spread eagle to a very large boulder in a remote area of a state park. Doing a crucifixion scene at a kinky kampout.   Best group scenes   Being suspended and whipped by three dominants at once. Being pulled apart by 8 people during a needle play scene.  There was a lot going on during this scene.  My tits were bloody and I fought like hell.  I felt like a captured Amazon. Laying on a table with all sorts of treats and candy covering my body while attendees licked nibbled and tasted all the treats.   Most erotic scene   Being suspended spread eagle in chains for a femdom I knew.  When I started to complain she made me hang for another 15 minutes.  I struggled and moaned a long time.  When it was over I saw that she smoked 6 cigs.    Most embarrassing scenes/moments   Hearing loud screaming during a scene.  When I went to see what was going on I saw a couple putting a clothespin on a newbies nipples.  I think you chose the wrong kink hun. Watching a sub go to a play station.  Remove their clothes.  Put their restraints on.  Put out all the toys.  Tie themself up.  Then the dominant showed up.  Watching a femsub pass out during a rope play scene.  Slowly slither to the floor and hit her head on the concrete.  Where was the dominant?  Talking to another dominant nearby.  Watching a male sub offer himself during a slave auction and nobody bidding on him.  Best dungeon moments. Receiving a standing ovation from the staff and trustees of a dungeon when entering the dungeon.  They knew what I was there to do and everyone was very excited to see me. Being suspended spread eagle in chains and whipped in front of 250 people.   Random stuff people have said to me at the dungeon. Nice bikini.  Nice thong.  Would you want to have our baby? (wait what?) You’re a bronze goddess.  Nice tan.  Your body is made for torture. (gee thanks?) I like the way you wear your bikini.  Do you get oiled up to better endure the whipping? Your the girl who likes to be strung up.

I excel at cutting people out. Call it a super power. It's not always a clean cut on the inside. Sometimes it takes years to be able to sever the heartstrings. I think people always stay with you. Good or bad, short or lifelong, they are in your wrinkly little brain (yeah, yeah, it's big, I believe you) evermore. I have always considered this ability more of a curse than a blessing, like something is wrong with me. And maybe something is. Maybe there's no maybe. I'm sorting it out. It doesn't change the fact that I am actively making the most difficult cut of my life. There is very little support for my decision, but I've got to do what's right for me. I was just thinking that maybe my prior experience in this was making me stronger for the superbowl of all severed ties. Two years ago I don't know if I could have held my ground. But I'm building trust in myself and being brave. I am valuable and what I think and feel is valid. Important. That's all I need to worry about. All of that mess over there, that's not my responsibility. 

i stay stresssed out and depressed all the time anymore its hard for me to think its hard for me finding someone to be in my life when your family mistreats you your thinking pattern gets off of what you was going to do with screaming and yelling at me all the time it never fails i speak i get jumped on for breathing or moving 16 years of there mouths and mentally i really take much more it's killing me mental im already dead on the inside but idiots  doesn't care about me my feelings or my needs they dont care if i die anyways they tell me to kll myself nobody wants your stupid ass anyways fucking whore your nothing but a worthless piece of ass nobody wants ... and one cop in my hometown october said your ruthless piece of ass nobody wants when i was living at the apartment i was at so i stopped socializing i stop going to the store i busted my phone so i wouldn't have to deal with stupid ass bullies and i am at my breaking point and my landlord would let who ever in my aprtment because in august i was watching tv an smoked a joint before i went to bed an took my mucsle relaxer and then who ever had a key to my apartment did something because i was stiff an couldn't move and woke up next morning couldn't hardly move my right arm the second night they molsted me in my sleep and i can't walk for a week... they grab my right foot that is how i knew an i checked my self and i got pissed off them letting people in my apartment landlord was a jealous jesus christ freak that almost got me raped... i have no trust left with anybody at this point because when i do they abuse me 

Reflecting i sit here in chastity, reminiscing on my past, contemplating the decisions i have made, rationalizing some and regretting others.  It is the ones i regret which pierce deep into the soul, humbling the spirit, causing conflict within, creating a helplessness that overwhelms me into a deepening slavishness. Recollections of disobedience consume my mind, no relief, no escape, an affirmation that i am not perfect.  Is it possible for me to make reparation? Are there limits or do i kneel quietly and endure whatever is given to me for my disobedience?   geo

Dallas — April 23–25 I’ll be in the city briefly, and I don’t waste time on unfocused or unprepared men. I’m open to select company while I’m there—but understand this is not casual, and it’s not for those who need to be convinced of their place. I will not be alone. My wife will be present—she is intelligent, composed, and fully aware of my dynamic. You will conduct yourself with the same level of respect, awareness, and restraint you would expect in the presence of accomplished women. This is not a space for nervous energy, over-talking, or performative behavior. I expect presence, discretion, and a clear understanding of how to approach properly. You should come prepared—mentally, logistically, and otherwise. I don’t guide from the ground up in a limited window. If you understand structure, composure, and how to present yourself with intention, you may be worth my time. Dallas is a short stay. Make your approach count. — Mistress Nikki Vixen

I am a heterosexual submissive transwoman named Julie, and one of the several categories for which the modern term is sissy.  That means as a transwoman I am primarily attracted to men and am submissive to them, though I also enjoy other transwomen.  I am however bigender because I do not want to give up the societal advantages of being male to earn a living.  It took me a long time to figure these things out and realize I was not bisexual.  As a transwoman, I am ideally looking for long-term but occasional relationship with a mostly heterosexual man, ideally as his mistress.  I want to make a man really happy because I'll do things for him that most wives will not.  I will appear to him and behave for him as close to his ideal female partner as I can.*************************The one essential book every transwoman should read is Whipping Girl: A Transexual Woman on Sexism and the Scapegoating of Femininity by Julia Serano, now in its third edition (Seal Press, 2024).  This is a detailed analysis of what it means to be a transwoman and the obstacles we face.  It is important to note on this site that the title does not refer to masochism but to the frequent scapegoating of transwomen in the media as a threat to society.  Serano's argument is that transwomen are demonized because of the rampant misogyny of Western society, where any feminine traits are denigrated, and any masculinity, including the toxic masculinity of cultural conservatives, is privileged. Even some feminists are anti-feminine, not realizing that is probably because they have transmen tendencies.  Part of this "transmisogyny" is also the mistaken notion that male and female are opposites ("oppositional sexism") with nothing in between, and part of it is due to the mistaken belief that your birth gender cannot be changed.  But as the book points out, many men have some feminine traits and many women have some masculine traits.  The book also notes that we constantly unconsciously judge people as male or female based on just a few characteristics without every seeing their genitals or their chromosones, so a person's sex in society is not based on their genetics or organs.The third edition has many good rejoinders to current antitrans-hysteria, notably in the new last chapter.  3% of men and 3% of women appear to have some trans tendencies.  Gender-affirming medical care such as hormones and surgeries for trans people has a low rate of regret, around 1%, whereas similar interventions for nontrans people such as breast augmentation and reduction or hormone supplementation have a regret rate of 14%.  Puberty-blocking medications have been used for years for nontrans children with hormone defects, with no ill effects or inabilty to reverse them.  Trans children who have been denied gender-affirming care have a 14 times higher suicide rate than other children.  Trans children appear in families at the same rate independent of the degree of trans support in their families, so there is no "social contagion" with trans tendencies.  There are more self-identified trans people today than in the past, but that is because society has become more welcoming.  Trans people show no evidence of being sexual predators, any more than women who dress well are sexual predators: Marginalized groups (think blacks) are often hyper-sexualized in the media.  As for "bathroom bills", I find it amusing that the current policy for U.S. government buildings which says that people must use the bathroom of their birth sex, in the avowed goal of protecting women from perverts, forces transmen to go to female bathrooms no matter how much facial hair they have -- something that will make women pretty uncomfortable.  But forcing us transwomen to go to male bathrooms in full drag will not be bad -- men are terrifically scared to look at other men in a bathroom, much less men wearing dresses, for the danger of being throught gay. A weakness of Serano's book is that she sticks to her own perspective as a lesbian transwoman, and doesn't have much to say about transmen.  She also doesn't sound sympathetic to us sissies; she says tranwomen are "fierce" and not passive.  But of course being passive is not necessarily feminine, and could be just reflect to the long oppression of women (as with other minorities) by society.  We need more books on other kinds of trans people.  But for now, Serano's book is important reading.

If you think I would spit on you  And call you a cunt I'm sorry but that's not what I do. I'm way more subtle , and with far more respect To be such a prick to you. I will set you rules that you will have to obey No doubt you will break at least one every day Rules on your dress, you grooming , your place On how you must act, in our private space I will cane you for punishment,long and hard Strap you  to keep you line You will beg my forgiveness , plead with remorse Bits that's all part of this design. For a man is man , head of the house The role of the woman is to serve And when each knows their role ,then both both understand Each gets all that they deserve She will get love, certainly and discipline ,  Each in appropriate measure He will have a woman , submissive and pleasing His to always treasure.   I

8/12/22 Football player gets what he wants Football player boy came over for the first time in quite a few months. So I knew his ass was going to be tight, and I wasn't mistaken.When he first arrived I was sitting in my rocking chair wearing only a pair of boxers. I had been playing with myself so not only was I already heard but I had pre-cum oozing down my cock.We've been getting together for quite a number of years, so he doesn't even have to be told, he strips as he walks through the door. As he was stripping there he exchanged a few pleasantries, how have you been, it's been a while, sorry I'm a few minutes late. I just pulled my cock out from my shorts and said, come take care of this.He got down on his knees and took my cock in his hand. He saw the precum dripping from the tip, and licked it off.  Then he immediately latched on to my cock taking it all the way to my balls.    He has an outside job so he's been in the sun a lot. I don't think I ever remember him looking this tan. His hair is cut extremely short this time. His broad shoulders have a new tattoo since I saw him last. The view looking down at him is incredible.I rested my hand on the back of his head feeling his rhythmic bobbing up and down on my cock. He knew exactly what he was doing, I didn't need to guide him in any way. Although a few times I just wanted to hear him choke on my cock, so I applied pressure on the back of his head until I felt my cock head bottom out in the back of his throat.This went on for a few minutes, but I remembered something he told me during his last visit. He wanted to expand his repertoire again. Originally many years ago he had a girlfriend who would peg him. They broke up and he couldn't find another girl to peg him. That's when we met. And at the beginning all I was allowed to do wish of toys up his ass.Years later, many patient years later, he said he wanted to try sucking cock. Months after that he wanted to taste my load. It has been fun watching him change over the years. And now he wants FUCKED by my cock. This is what he told me at the end of our last session quite a few months ago. Today was the day.We went downstairs and he climbed into the sling. I secured his ankles high into the air as he scooted down in the sling to give me plenty of access to his hole. He doesn't like the roughness of my fingers, so I slipped a pair of rubber gloves on, applied some lube and started playing on the outside of his ass. Normally I just dive in with one or two fingers, but today I wanted HIM to WANT IT extra bad. I wanted him to yearn for it.I teased the outside of his hole and I could feel him lunging in the sling by grabbing the chains and trying to push himself onto my finger. But I was just teasing him at this point. I reached up and stroked his cock a few times, and then went back to teasing his hole.Eventually I gave him what he was yearning for at the moment, I slid my finger deep into his ass with one swift movement. My finger landed on his hard prostate. Some days his prostate is kind of soft until I get him sexually excited at which point it gets hard as a rock. Today, it was hard as a rock the moment I touched it. I applied a little pressure and noticed pre-cum ooze out of the end of his cock.With one finger still up his ass massaging his prostate, using the other hand I smeared his pre-cum over his cock head and started stroking it. He threw his head back and looked in the mirror above us on the ceiling of the basement. I was watching his face and his eyes as he intently focused on every movement I made.As expected his ass was tight. Wonderfully tight. But eventually I worked a second finger into his hole. I don't know where he learned to clean his ass out, but he does a better job than anyone I know. He's definitely a pro at cleaning himself out, and that means I can use larger and longer toys.But for now I was just working him over with one and then two fingers. Occasionally sliding a third finger in. I watched as he gazed into the mirror above us and I gave him a bit of a show. I pulled my fingers out and put my index finger as deep as I could. Then I would pull it out and replace it with only my middle finger twisting my hand around as I played with his prostate. Then I pulled my middle finger out and replaced it with my ring finger and little finger at the same time, I spun my hand around again.I pulled my fingers out and replaced them with my index and middle finger, the easy way. Vertically, aligned with his ass crack. But then with a twist of 90°, he was getting my fingers the hard way. But he was doing just fine. He was enjoying it as much as I was.His cock was hard and I continued to play with it. And then I did something I usually don't do. And you would think I was doing it for his benefit, and I want him to think I was doing it for his benefit, but this was just a little treat for myself. I took the head of his cock in my mouth and started twirling my tongue around his piss slit. I glanced up and saw him throw his head back, I think his eyes might have rolled backwards a bit toward his skull.I continued sucking on his cock until I had his entire cock in my mouth. I bobbed up and down a few times and he started to moan incredibly. I know from the past experience that once he orgasms were done for the day, as with most guys. And there was no way I was going to risk that. So I popped my mouth off his cock and continued working on his ass putting a third finger in.He loves CBT so with my fingers still firmly planted inside him, I grabbed a wooden spoon. I started smacking his balls lightly at first but rhythmically

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.  

Why we aren't drowning in playmates. Playmate/ submissive playtoy - someone we like enough to interact with, who either comes to provide service, or kink, or some combination of both. I was asked how often I get this. Someone else asked "where are the success stories?" Why I have so many stories about the failures. If we have a fun playmate, that's private, unless they are comfortable having their kinky fun splayed all over the net. I post about the failures, usually in my group, to help future readers figure out what NOT to do. What my limits are and why, and ideally how to avoid fucking up with Dommes in their own searches. Now, the first question - how often? Seldom. And here's why - We have spent a lot of time working on ourselves on many levels for many years, to become better, mentally/emotionally/spiritually healthier human beings in general, which unfortunately has the problematic side effect of causing one to have a lower tolerance for people who haven't done that work. And as was said in Star Trek Next Generation - "the higher, the fewer." The more you level yourself up, the higher the standards you try to live by, the better the human being you try to be, the fewer people you will be able to be around. The fewer people will be tolerable. The fewer people will be able to understand you when you talk about anything more than the weather. The more you work on yourself, the more alone you will be. Then again, the more you work on yourself, the more you will like your own company, and the more you will prefer being alone to being with the wrong people. People who aren't automatically honest, who don't work toward direct, open communication as the default, people who don't make every effort to say only what they mean, and stick to what they do say, people who don't self-analyze and self-correct and so on. People who can't or won't set healthy boundaries. And so on. All of these things create practical problems, (lying, STDs, flaking, anger issues, failure to respect limits or requirements, etc) as well as emotional stress. All of these things impact consent, safety, and trust. All of these things are solely under the control of the individual, and while we can set the boundary that we won't engage in interactions with them unless they commit to them, the average person isn't actually interested in or concerned with being a better person beyond lip service, or even to getting their kink on enough to make the work worth it for them, even if it would make their entire lives better in the long run. It's almost impossible to have real conversation with people like that, too. We just don't seem to speak the same language anymore, and we get people telling us how we are "taking (ourselves) too seriously" or accusing us of being stuck up and putting on airs. The reality is that we just don't want to deal with the problems that dysfunctional people bring with them anymore. And if we never find another really awesome people to play with because of that, we still come out ahead, because we won't have trash people fucking up our lives. Not to put too fine a point on it.

  Funny thing about a good sub is they will do almost anything to please…   

Remote Controlled - Part 2b Author's Note - The word count was a little too long for the journal, so I have had to split it in two. This is the conclusion of part two. 'If I have captured your interest enough, I want to ask you to submit to me using this app and your toys. If you agree Slut, you will leave the call open and put in your vibe and buttplug. If you do not agree, then you can end that call and I will not have any hard feelings toward you.' 'I'd like to try Jonathan.' 'I am glad to hear it Slut. Now, go and put in your toys.' Through the open line Sally could hear some noises on Jonathan's end. He quickly explained that he had purchased himself a toy that would connect to hers. As he thrust into his toy, it would capture some of the sensations and she would feel them repeated in her toys. Deep within her something fluttered. Sally didn't think that the inventors of the internet ever forsaw this use case, but she was thankful for the people with the ingenuity to make things like this work. Reporting that everything was in place, she lay down on her bed. A notification flashed up from the new app - Jonathan has sent you a new task. Turn on video when using your toy (50 point reward). She stared at it for a moment or two before turning video on the call. Immediately the buttplug began to vibrate. 'I am going to enjoy controlling your ass tonight Slut.' Sally couldn't quite imagine the device he was using on his end, but she smiled as the wonderful feeling of being controlled set in. Another notification flashed up on her phone. Put on a collar (25 point reward). If these tasks were all so simple, it wouldn't be long before she could claim both of the rewards on the app. She reached over to her toy box and buckled a simple leather collar around her neck. Flashing a smile to the camera she reached to her nipples and began playing with them as the toy in her ass vibrated and quaked away. Maybe an online dynamic had some potential after all she thought...then the vibrator in her pussy kicked in and before too long waves of pleasure were washing over her mind and body.

Desire   I lay in bed reading. My mind lost in the ecru pages with its black ink scrawled across. I was thoroughly enjoying my book when I felt a hand on my left foot. I looked up and at the foot of the bed he stood, looking at my legs, finger tips grazing my toes and tracing them to my foot and then my ankle.    I cleared my throat and he looked up at me, sheepish grin on his cute little mouth. He appeared to be waiting, perhaps asking for permission.  I sighed, pretending to be annoyed, and said, "fine, my sweet boy, you may" and I lifted my foot to his face.  "Thank you, Empress." He cooed as he began first to inhale and then kiss my foot.   "Don't start anything you don't intend to finish, puppy" I said as I returned to my book. Trying to focus on the words as his tongue lathed each little digit, tickled the arch of my foot, lapped at my heel, was difficult. I curled and uncurled my toes at the sensations that tickled its way up to the juncture where my thigh met my panties.    I peeked at him over the book. His eyes were closed and he was breathing heavy. A bulge existed in his sweatpants. I may have moaned under my breath and at that he began to rub my calf muscle, massaging me. He must have been in a mood. Anticipating one another's desires hadn't always been easy but it seemed today he wanted to touch and be denied.    He was supposed to fetch his cage when he was in this mood otherwise he was left free. I enjoyed most to tease and play when he had access but couldn't find release without permission. I liked feeling it against me and saying no to it.    "My love?" I said with an imploring tone   He opened his pretty eyes, hazel green with flecks of gold, and stopped moving but kept my toes in his mouth as he said, "yes, Empress?".    "Are you wearing your cage?"   He released my leg and toes and pulled his sweat pants down to reveal that he was locked up in his cage. His cheeks warmed, maybe I made a face of appreciation. Now that he was in it he'd have to beg to be out of it. As he went to pull up his pants I stopped him with my right foot. Pressing my toes into the cage and pushing it up into his body. He opened his legs to give me more room as he reached for the foot he'd forfeited. "Did I give you permission to lock away my property?"   "No, Ma'am, sorry Ma'am." He said with his cheeks flushed.    I was no longer trying to read and I maintained uncomfortably long eye contact before nodding at him to resume his current task. I returned to my book but could only look at the words swimming across the page.  They were like nonsense to my brain as my other senses were being over powered by the pleasure of my love's service.  As he began to rub my leg harder and kiss my foot with more passion I suddenly kicked him away. Loving the look on his face at my sudden rejection.  I crossed my legs and pretended to read as he stood waiting. A whimper escaped his throat, truly a puppy, and I laughed.   This game was a favorite of mine.    If he wanted anything he'd have to ask, beg, crawl and suffer for it.   "Please..." he said.  I pretended not to hear an incomplete sentence, waiting, my heart racing and my pussy growing wetter. I crossed my legs again and the little bells on the anklet on my right ankle made a beautiful sound. I curled and flexed the toes on that foot, encircled by two rings, knowing I had his attention.    He cleared his throat. "Please, Empress, may I touch you, your feet?"   "Hmmm, no" I turned the pages of the book that I hadn't been reading. I made a mental note to memorize the page I could last remember. What I wanted was to ravage my boy. Make him cry. Shove my toes into his mouth even if it was too far and he gagged. I needed the tears now.    "Kneel", I said softly as I looked at the pages of the book in my hands.  "If you want anything you'll have to bleed for it, fetch the toys."    He crawled and carefully brought back a bag of equipment from the hall closet. Belts used to bind him, rope, tape, hoods, gags, and a cattle prod.    I turned the page of my book slowly as he remained on his knees with the bag on his upright hands. Endurance would benefit him. We had grown fond of torturous tasks.    Walls squats near my chair so I can rest my feet on his knees. Bridge pose for the same reason. Back bends so I can sit comfortably on his body as I tie my shoes. Anything to put his body to the test. Kneeling with his arms out, palms up, holding the heavy bag was just the thing to amuse me. When his arms began to tremble is when I decided to close my book and focus on him entirely.    I took the bag from him and gave the rest command. He relaxed on his knees, palms up waiting to receive. His face was flush but not just from the shear pleasure of being allowed to serve or the humiliation of being an object, but also due to the arduous task, and he had begun to sweat.    "Undress." He stood to follow my command and then returned to the rest position. I slowly picked out the tools we'd need to play today.  "Are we in the mood for pain, I think so" I said out loud as if truly asking him, as if it weren't my decision to make" he remained quiet.  I took out his special hood. Custom just for him. It laced down into a neck corset. He couldn't see, or speak from within. He couldn't kiss me or be bitten on his lips.  I took out leather belts with satin affixed to the side that would touch his skin. For his legs and arms.    "Open" I commanded and he spread his legs, exposing himself straining in his cage. I could see the beating of his heart as the cage bobbed. I got down to his level and affixed two belts to his bent legs, preventing I'm from standing.    "Inspection." I commanded and he put his hands to the back of his head which prepped his arms for being equally disabled by two shorter belts on each arm.    "Now, how will you touch me without hands?" I asked. Quietly he pushed his face into my legs and rubbed against them, scooting his body closer and attempting to rub his full body on me. I pushed him off and laughed as he fell backwards with a thud.    I sat on his chest and slid the hood onto his head but couldn't lace it. I lifted onto my knees and he rotated knowingly so that I could tie him tight. Then I stood up, leaving him alone in the dark. I tiptoed and climbed quietly into bed, on my tummy, as he lay on the floor, I watched him for a long while to see what he would do.    What COULD he do? Bound as he was, I had not ever tested if he could crawl. I climbed down from the bed and tiptoed out of the room and walked back in as if I was returning from elsewhere. He jerked in the direction of my sounds, bells tinkling on my anklet, I noisily gathered a chain leash and walked to his helpless body and attached it to the ring on the collar of his special hood.    "Come, puppy." I called in my sing song voice, the very one I use for my cats. "Come on, my h

Guys be like, “men are visual creatures.” Ok mr, than why do you look like that? Maybe a lotta fellas don’t have mirrors at home. I had to be honest with a male  yesterday and explain to him that a lotta times the women THEY WANT, that don’t want them, might not be due to their financial status. A lotta times us women might not find you physically attractive (men never wanna consider this). Although your grandma and momma been telling you how handsome you are your whole life (they’re supposed to BTW) That doesn’t mean that women who you cross paths with on a daily basis look at you and think,“yea, I’d like to feel his penis inside of me, or be romantically involved with him”. This explains why it’s some not financially stable men that stay with a fine ass Boss Chick. Some men can get outta prison Tamar and be living with lawyer in her water-front condo & driving her Benz truck within a week.

 yourgirljoy