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

I have a friend who is a bit dramatic and insecure. Mostly with men but it trickles into other areas of her life. She always seems to have a problem, and usually it stems from her being unable to see outside of her own viewpoint. If it's a fair generalization to say that most people want to be the priority in a relationship, then it's fair to say she takes this to extremes with almost zero tolerance for waiting. She over dramatizes her relationship endings rather quickly, wishing them well, wanting the best for them, blah blah momentary sincerity. I had already come to the conclusion that she is a shallow and insincere person masquerading as a caring person. A Mean Girl.  Last week she was relating a situation that played out in her life, and she was referring to someone in a derogatory manner. I told her she can't do that, that it wasn't respectful. She cut me off to let me know all of the ways she was disrespected by this person, and that now she was angry and had to go, she would talk to me in a few days. I said okay and we hung up. What I didn't say was that the name calling was a reflection of her mentality and unwillingness to make the situation better, not the other person. I didn't say it, but I thought it all week. If this is how she speaks of that person, how is she speaking of me now that she's pissed? I don't need that in my life.  Yesterday she texted as if nothing happened. I sat on it, not sure how I wanted to respond. As can happen, I got busy and forgot. This morning she sent me the overdramatisized ending!!! I have been well wished out of her life. I do actually hope she figures her life out, but I'm not a Mean Girl. No dramatic ending for me, other than sharing it with you. I promise when you and I end our friendship I won't wish you well, either. 

Things have been very rough this last few years. In the middle of the horror I discovered my exact needs and desires. All are leaning to 24/7. A TRUE EXPERIENCED Dominant. One compatible of course. One with similar interests as we need time together outside of just bdsm. I need fully trained. Supervised. Someone who pays attention when I think I can get away with something though I try my best to be a good girl. Someone to nurture me. Guide me. Ensure I hydrate and eat properly.  I need the rules. The punishments. The after care and the sincere love. I am in a vanilla relationship and beyond unhappy.  I have had limited human contact in years. The vanilla is too old. Impotent and zero desire. We live separate lives. I am more of a care giver.  I am willing to move almost anywhere but as a full time submissive.  I'm too poor to use what little I have to move in and find out we aren't compatible.  So meeting 1st is a must. I am fine with a hotel or cabin or even fly to you but trust must be established.  I will accept nothing other than EXPERIENCED. I am not switch. I'm fully submissive.  I want 24/7 but also would like a little loosening on my chain to feel semi normal. Yes I expect completely your knowing my comings and goings at all time. Mutual interests are time well spent. What are you looking for in a submissive?  

1 year post gastric bypass I have lost approximately 80 pounds from December 2020-May 2022. I had gastric bypass on May 2021. What have I learned in the first year post gastric bypass: A bite or two of something is enough for a taste but you don’t need a ton. A single bite or two of something sweet but high in calories is usually enough. I was trained as a small child that anything you take you eat. Learning to stop when full and ask for a box or throw away/give away the remainder has been a huge success. Shopping in decreasing sizes doesn’t mean you have to purchase every size as you go down. I have gone from a 22/24 sometimes 26 down to a 12-16 depending on the store. I have gotten a lot of my clothes from friends at a clothing exchange. I have at times lost more inches than pounds so when i decide everything is too big I shop then i see a large jump from where i was to where I am. I’ve gone from an old navy xxl at my heaviest to a xl in bodycon dresses to a m in summer dresses. Which was a thrill. However, I don’t shop enough to purchase every size. In Jeans, I usually end up dropping 2 or 3 sizes when i shop since i wear them with a belt until they are insanely big. Weighing/measuring portions isn’t a bad thing. I actually want to upgrade my food scale to a nicer one. I use this daily. When I pack lunches for work I’m still packing too much. It is a shock to bring home half of what i pack. If i take a large back of something into my desk drawer I have to take a measuring device to portion it out or portion ahead of time. If not I fall into bad habits The scale isnt the only victory. If i lose inches and clothing fit better that is a win. Being able to take dresses from tunic tops to actually dresses with boots this winter has been fun. Regular knee-high boots not extra extended calf have been a thrill. Being able to handle heels regularly has been amazing. Going to the gym is fun with the right classes. Spend the extra for the gym with classes you might like. My family spends 86 per month on the YMCA instead of 40 for planet fitness locally. The Y has childcare and all the classes. I go to water aerobics, pure barre and body pump. I have a ton of fun at all 3. Plus as long as I go 12 times a month I get 20 back on membership. If my husband goes 12 times we get 20 back for him as well. SO it bring the Y down close to Planet fitness in cost plus it includes childcare and activities for my daughter as well. I can keep up with my co-workers who are almost half my age. I feel mentally sharper. I also can physically outdo some of them. I work in a department where we move some boxes of paperwork on a regular basis. As long as i’m not wearing a short skirt and the box isn’t over my head I can lift most. I have learned it is ok to ask for help with medical concerns. I am an insulin diabetic on a pump. I have had to reach out a few times for my data to be reviewed by my diabetic care team and be adjusted. My goals for year 2 are to: I plan to up my time at the Y. I currently go 2 times a week for me and then 2 times a week for my kid to use the pool. I want to get to 3 or 4 times a week for me and 2 times for my kid. Find someone to be accountable to forMonitoring the protein i get in daily- i should be getting between 60-90 grams of protein in dailyMy time spent at the gymMy food logs With my current partners consider adding those pieces into my dynamic with them. Not so much as to be babied by them but to know i’m being monitored. To Know i will be asked why i didnt do one of them some specific day. It is like the monitoring with my medications that we do currently. I want to get under 200 pounds. I have always been a BBW but i want to become closer to hwp. I want to be able to completely shop in straight sizes instead of still flipping between straight sizes and plus. I want to be able to get tied into more positions. In addition to being a masochist.

FFS people! READ profiles before contacting someone! Yes, my profile lists me as a switch, but that does not mean I want to do anything and everything with everyone. I am looking for a male dominant, and a female slave. I am NOT looking for a male sub for anything other than maybe domestic, manual labour. I am NOT interested in a sissy, CD/TV (unless they fit the aforementioned manual labour bill), FLR, or any form of meaningful "relationship" with a submissive male. As noted in my profile here, my blog profile lists EVERYTHING I am seeking in great detail. READ IT!

A couple nights ago, a self-defined submissive made some generic comment in his email, but did call me Domina, so I responded. A little earlier tonight, he wrote back to ask if I was looking for a slave. Specifically, "slave." I responded "Well, if you had actually read more than the first line, you would have found your answer before you asked" To which he replied "oh, read the profile syndrome that tells me everything I want to know not for me bye" Do you see the problem here? He didn't make any effort, while simultaneously offering himself as a "slave." To a total stranger. 'Cause lawd knows, a slave ain't gonna be asked to do anything as outRAGEOUS as... READ. This kind of obtuseness just blows my freakin mind every time. I mean, the twit has exchanged less than a hundred words with me, is using not the mild mannered "submissive" or "sub" which is kind of like dating, if you think about words (and you sure as shit better be the kind that thinks about words if you are writing ME) but instead chose the serious and committed word "Slave" which is a lot more like suggesting marriage. And obviously, he's heard this before, because he had a whole big feeling about it, and has pathologized it as something only demented women expect from a man who was already offering the pinnacle of servitude. It's funny because it's so sad, and so common. I had just never heard it put that way before. Such over the top, blatant gaslighting. 'If you want this, you must be CRAZY!' I mean, really who wants to actually KNOW someone they have given all power over their lives??? I guess I'm more tired than I thought, and a bit bummed over lack of snuggle time with DB on account of snow, but I didn't even bother replying to laugh at him. Block, delete, on to the next. Maybe I go watch TCM The Beginning again. (I fast forward through all the parts that Thomas isn't in. Much shorter movie, but I enjoy it a lot more.)

October 21.2023 Update .... H/hello SIRs n everyone, it has been a long absence from Cs but after deciding to start the New Year off afresh encountered password problems again, and took it as maybe it should re-evaluate its life ? Unfortunately just a wasted 10 months, and having recovered its correct password yet again, finds itself even more brainwashed by M.s Bdsm vids, and craving even Harder use by even more men than ever before - whilst it is Spring rutting season here in the Southern hemisphere, its also Fall cuffing season in Northern hemisphere, so maybe it will get lucky .. ie. owned. NB. please excuse if it has just read or reread Your mssgs but a Lot of new and forgotton old ones to catch up on. it will def try to update its profile and new pix soon, however the basics remain the same, and it does not want its page to disappear for months so soon after being back here. Thank You for Your time perusing slavesluts profile SIRs. Fck it ... uploaded 2nd pic and bumped for review ... again Grrrrrrr  

So a lot has changed really, a profile update will be written soon. The biggest change really, in myself, is the stretching (quite literally i guess, pun not intended) Previously the only hole penetrated by a Dominant was my mouth (mostly with fingers but the odd strap on/vibe/dildo/phallus), but i am currently being trained anally and urethrally (is that even a word). i have never enjoyed the experience of even the smallest digit oenetrating me anally and would scream the place down through a gag if anything bigger than a pinkie finger up there. As i write this i have had a 4" butt plug in now for around 18 of the past 24 hours. Do i enjoy it? Not really. I have got to the stage where i can, for decent lengths of time, forget about it as it feels normal but only really when not moving about. i can also insert it myself when ordered to do so, not a feat i would previously have thought possible.   The story of how this, once hard limit, along with urethral sounds, were accidentally, on the same day no less, is one for another day but i thought, after many years on CM and now CS, i would make use of my journal to record my anal training journey so others may learn what they might expect. 

It was way too soon to be sodomized the first time someone tried.  I just couldn't take it.  It hurt so much that I avoided anal sex until I was in my early 50s.  Realizing how many years I wasted being afraid turned me into the eager slut I am now.  It's true.  I can't speak for anyone else but I have heard this happens to a lot of betas.  Anymore when anyone fucks me I lose all sense of manhood and experience a surge of femininity until they finish, sometimes even longer now.  It feels so right but it doesn't last like I want it to.  I'm sure the day is coming when I'll remain a gurl permanently. There are Doms and Dommes here who want submissives like me to feminize and control.  I might be the ideal one to serve you long term and live-in. So, please tell me, how can I serve you?  How do you see me fitting into your household and improving your life?  

Just Like This ..... Where'd you wanna go? How much you wanna risk? I'm not looking for somebody With some superhuman gifts Some superhero Some fairytale bliss Just something I can turn to Somebody I can kiss I want something just like this...

I was here awhile back and left. Hello again. I propose a power exchange. About me. I am a strong willed woman. I know what I want in life and am patient enough to wait for it. I've been active in this lifestyle for over 18 years. I would describe myself as a firm and demanding, loving sadistic, that delights in pushing her playthings to the point that is just this side of no return. I expect obedience. I give love, kink and a place to belong (kneeling at my feet). The setting. I live in the woods on the river, deep in the heart of a vast and beautiful land. Where the sun rarely sets in the middle of summer and rarely peeks it's head out in the middle of its winter wonderland. The exchange. I want to play with you. To hurt and humiliate you. To tend your wounds and then hurt you some more. At the end of the day I want you curled at my feet with a hot cup of tea in hand while we share witty banter about the days many activities. I also want my dishes done. My floor scrubbed. My door fixed. My garage cleaned. My art room organized. My garden weeded. My front deck built. This could start as a two week vacation or a repeat visit but should end as a lifetime venture. Serious inquiries preferred.

I've been back and forth, since before Thanksgiving , with the contract I have on a cabin In WV. Unfortunately the agent was a flake. Over the years , I've bought and sold homes. This agent was a hot mess. Finally had to get the broker involved, and replace the her.   The present one is on the ball. D and I drove to the cabin and he checked it top to bottom. There were concerns from the home inspection, and he calmed my mind. He said the place had great bones, the windows were all in good shape, the hot water heater was two years old , gas furnace will out live me, metal roof is fairly new... There is a cottage on the property, off the back set back from the cabin.  Its about eight hundred sq. feet , plus a screened in front porch! Perfect for my father, and he can't fall off. It has a kitchen, dining room, living room, bedroom and full bath. It too has a new metal roof.   Added an addendum  for a few things, we'll see if they accept or counter. Saying a little prayer and crossing my fingers.   M.

Forced Fem and Humiliation might not be so bad after all   A couple of years ago my Master thought up a new way to humiliate me when he bought a little frilly French maids costume online. He plan was initially to make me wear it while I did chores around the house. He wasn't in to TVs or sissies he just thought it would amuse him to see me walk to the end of the garden to put bags of rubbish in the bin especially as the garden faced a busy street. He also found it funny to lock the door behind me so I would spend a while cowering outside trying not to be seen before he opened the door again. Don't worry the humiliation wasn't a bad thing it could just get a little cold out there sometimes. He also used to make me wear it when his friends visited to serve them drinks. It was on one of those visits with Masters friend constantly putting his hand up my skirt (sanctioned by Master) that the subject of it being cold outside came up. The friend suggested only the dress wasn't enough I should at least have proper underwear and at least 1 pair of stockings. Master agreed and one day I came home to the additions to my new outfit sitting on the table. I was instructed to go and try them on. After a few struggles with the stockings I came out to show Master. He approved and showed me how much by ensuring that my new knickers I had only had for 10 minutes needed to go into the wash. Now when I did chores I was properly dressed and Masters friends seem to like it too. I liked it too.  I was never a sissy but I looked forward to dressing up, even running to the bins never seemed so bad. I confess I have dressed up sometimes since, and would like someone who likes it to push me  bit more.

Secret Room "Of her naked body this: that he had never seen anything so beautiful." -Lindsay Hall, Sea of Hooks (My mission is to get you all to read this book)  

I must be doing something wrong because ever since covid come along nobody wants to talk to anybody real time I mean I just bought a house in Mississippi moved from New Orleans a beautiful house by the way I'm very proud of and I was going to use it for a dream home of because I'm trans and I have other attributes I mean I'm a disabled veteran I wear diapers and fortunately for me my my Uncle Sam decides to keep me stocked and anyway I don't know what's wrong with people nobody has conversations anymore it's just these one line sentences no pictures it's just really is everybody running that scared I don't know maybe I'll see if this makes any hits I mean it's not very interesting but I'm just like since journals are back I'm just trying to see how it works out with me see if it actually shows up so anyway hope everybody is having a great holiday you know Halloween anyway look forward to hearing from anybody that wants to have a real time conversation I mean I don't even know what I mean anymore I haven't talked to another human being since covid except that the VA clinic and stuff but anyway with all that said ciao for now

damn got it all wrapped up....this is talking about the imagery and also the real life of us that are dark goddess priestess vibes...those who either have their warrior/men of action dark dudes or who are holding out for theirs to come to them...and then girlies like me who are naga the serpent who ejected themselves from the entire equation.   this talksssss about mature topics of power dynamics, what the issues are on both sides, why opposition both in real life and in media keeps us seperate, what happens when/if one of us comes together..and the wildness of ladies like me who are on the roam by ourselves. sooooo warning placed.haha.   for this deep dive we are going back to the classics of anime. especially a classic that was brought to american back in the 00s.   gundam wing(i could've added gundam 08th ms team for that jungle vibe because the main couple is a similar vibe but i didnt)   and slayers   from there we are going to specifically look at three romantic couples that despite enough evidence or direct source material that shows these couples are romantic based the entire fandom tends to question if they are 'legit' or not.   we are talking about:   1.xellos and filla   2. zelgadis and amelia(this one grinds my gears to the end of time that the fandom continuously rejaspects them and falls for the okie dokie bait and switch that zelgadis deserves to be with the good easy docile girl??? we'll talk about that more..this is literally cannon...it's literally in the original work, this isn't fanfiction???)   3. heero and the queen herself relena    talk about a whole ass power couple of infinite strength and finesse that so much of the fandom just can't handle.   the finale person that is not in a couple that i'll be talking about is the one and only naga the serpent. as a young lady who matured physically very early seeing women with big breasts that were often sexualized, tried  to be shamed for how their body is, their innocent and playful and wild nature being taken advantage of, and their loud boisterous ways...and yet they always stand on top..they were confident, they leaned into the sexuality that naturally forms from a body like that and make it look good for them. they wielded the sexuality that was given to them in a way that the men and women around them couldn't stand. and only the bad bitch pack could handle it...the archetype of naga tended to never have a man..but if they did the man was a wild one that let her be free and didn't try to cage her and was the supportive ground to her wild nature.     OH HO HO.   and you know a bitch practiced that daily as annoying young otakus do and perfected it.    and you know a bitch practiced that daily as annoying young otakus do and perfected it.   now that the scene is set, we are going to discuss a few topics.....how ameila and filla are literally high priestesses and while they are the light, the are fiery spunky and have a dark goddess vibe.....they have a side of them that the love and light people are often shocked, embarrassed, and disgusted by. and naga is the straight up dark goddess.   we have the men zelgadis, heero. and xellos the man of action. the warrior men, the dark brooding dark gods on display. the men in the fuckin trenches who aren't sweet, who aren't tender but are highly emotional and empathetic due to how life has shaped them.   and then we have the whole juxtaposition.   all of these people are not average people..they are cosmic beasts. powerful, agile, stronger, and more competent than the average person in their world. and the men and women tend to be engaging in their flirting, push and pull, dynamic, and attraction in a subversive power play due to the intense immensity of them.   vanilla people cite that heero trying to kill relena is a reason they can't be a couple. every either part time, fantasy, or someone like me who is a innate lifestyler where it's apart of my natural personality knows that when relena looked at heero with that face they were simply flirting and we knew it was over for her. it was the combo of the thrill the intrigue and the emotional oh hey there good lookin. i'd say if anything besides the fact that vanilla people were looking at it in a normal romance context the clunk was that they were so young. give it time for heero to cook and he'll get that devious dangerous flirt more refined.   u/littletwinstarspeace - the power of 3 will set you free? 3 priestesses and 3 warriors get together..or do they? how does their union which can totally be romantic, but often doesn't, transform the world? how does this work out in real life? and what about the dark goddess who ejaspects herself from… u/littletwinstarspeace - the power of 3 will set you free? 3 priestesses and 3 warriors get together..or do they? how does their union which can totally be romantic, but often doesn't, transform the world? how does this work out in real life? and what about the dark goddess who ejaspects herself from… u/littletwinstarspeace - the power of 3 will set you free? 3 priestesses and 3 warriors get together..or do they? how does their union which can totally be romantic, but often doesn't, transform the world? how does this work out in real life? and what about the dark goddess who ejaspects herself from… and well naga being so powerful and without a dude is she realllllllllly running into those dangerous gangs of men where she usually gets some sort of kidnapped or tied up just for shit and giggles?   u/littletwinstarspeace - the power of 3 will set you free? 3 priestesses and 3 warriors get together..or do they? how does their union which can totally be romantic, but often doesn't, transform the world? how does this work out in real life? and what about the dark goddess who ejaspects herself from… so we'll be talking about their relationships as the man on the ground the dark goddess priestess, their power dynamic-y ways....why so many especially traditional people don't see these people as actual romantic husband/wife, boyfriend/girlfriend, lovers, partners, what keeps them separate, why even when they are clearly the pair they tend to be tempted by women who aren't on their level such as lena or distracted by the young lady in kingdom waltz, why it seems in spite of the obvious synergy between these that these men tend to end up with the more docile mismatched woman that they have sexual and fleeting passion for, what the challenge is for the woman, what the challenge is for the man, what happens when these power couples never get together and why in writing and story they do everything in their power including insert some mismatched woman that they usually end up with instead to keep them away, when someone like naga says fuck the system i'm ejecting myself from all this storyline and paving my own way   AND HOW THIS TRANSLATES TO REAL LIFE.   because for some of us bdsm and power dynamics are real.   magic is real.   esotericism is real.   there are real dark goddess vibes, high priestesses, knights, men of action, warriors, and though we don't see it as visual as the media we have our own magic that we wield. and these pairings and the entire thing is a very real real world issue. or situation.   my answer is riding with naga to all this conundrum, peace out and jump off the plane with no safety net or par

I want flowers. I want to whip you. I want to stroke your cheek and smile into your eyes. I want respect and awe and understanding and love. I want foot rubs and leg rubs and back rubs and anywhere rubs. I want you to know when to reach out to touch and when to kneel and wait. I want you to want me fiercely, desire me utterly. I want kisses. Little ones, fast ones, fierce ones, thigh-clenching-good kisses. I want you to touch me like you’re trying to memorize the texture and shape of me. I want affection and cuddling. I want you to drop your eyes when I demand and meet my eyes when we talk. I want you to miss me terribly when we’re apart. I want you to know what you mean to me, how I cherish you. I want humor and debate and dialog. I want you to kiss the side of my neck while your hands grip my hips, my back. I want to see you crawl – just for me. I want to look at you in that special way and see you breathe deeply with desire and anticipation of what you know is to come. I want to fuck you, penetrate you, tease you, deny you, please you, torture you. I want You.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

pet store (3/3) you smile again and wipe your wet fingers on my face. "first, take off your shirt and clean that mess you made." i hesitate for a moment but pull my shirt over my head and start to lean down. "on your knees, and i want that ass up. in fact," you pause dramatically, but i know that tone of voice and shiver. "put the shirt in your mouth, hands behind your back, and clean." i don't hesitate this time, and i put the shirt in my mouth. i'm still holding my new collar in one hand, and reach my arms behind my back so i can grip it with both hands when i spread my legs and lean forward. half my focus is on cleaning my juices off the floor, and the rest is on making sure i'm displaying myself well enough for you. my clit is throbbing from the exposure, and all i can think about is how badly i need to please you. when i finish cleaning to your satisfaction, you order me to stand, but you keep the shirt in my mouth and my hands behind my back. "now," you tell me, "you can either put your filthy shirt back on or i can use it to tie your arms behind your back and put those tits on display. you can choose." i think for a moment then hand you my shirt and the collar, before turning and presenting my arms to be tied. you pull my arms back, thrusting my breasts out further, and tie them tightly. you trace your fingers lightly up my arms and over my breasts, making me shiver as my nipples harden. you pull me back against you and kiss my throat, but your hands continue down my body and slip back under my skirt. one hand holds me still and the other goes right for my clit. you hold me against you, still pressing soft kisses to my throat as i come undone in your hands. you stop before you can push me over the edge but keep holding me still while i suck your wet fingers clean. when my breathing starts to calm, you push me forward. "let's go, babe." as we approach the register, the man working here looks me up and down and smiles. i stumble, having forgotten that we weren't alone, but you keep pushing me forward. we're not heading straight toward him though- with your hand twisted in my hair you steer me toward a display case full of different types of dog tags. we stop in front of it and my eyes meet your reflection's in the back of the case. i don't need to see myself to know that my cheeks are flushed and my lip is swollen from biting it, but i look anyway. i barely recognize the slut i see looking back at me. you bring out the collar we chose and now i can't take my eyes off your hands. i watch them open the collar and fit it around my throat, and when they close the collar i sigh, letting out a breath i hadn't even realized i was holding. i'm staring at myself, transfixed, barely breathing, for a minute before my eyes meet yours again in the mirror. "thank you, sir." you hold my gaze as you pinch my nipples and smirk at me. "we're not done yet, my slut." you keep playing with my nipples with one hand while the other drifts down and under my skirt again. "pick a tag," you tell me, and begin to finger me. you're much rougher this time, bringing me to edge and barely letting me catch my breath before starting again. without my arms free to brace myself, i'm shaking just from trying to stay upright. the only thing keeping my knees locked in place is the knowledge that if i fall to the floor, you'll leave me there to writhe and beg. i shake my head to try to clear some of the cobwebs and pick a dog tag, but before i can speak you stop playing with my breasts and slip your fingers in my mouth. i can see you laughing at me when i can't hold back the whine, but i quickly forget about the dog tag anyway. you do this a few more times, until my whines are turning to screams. the next time you remove your fingers from my mouth to start the cycle again, i immediately shout, "the heart! the heart tag, please, please, the heart!" you wipe both hands clean on my breasts, giving my nipples an extra tug when you do it. i don't remember it happening, but at some point in this you pulled them out of my bra so now they're fully on display. when you're done, you reach out to grab the tag, then push me toward the cashier. i look down, not wanting to see what this man thinks of me right now, but you push me right up to the counter. "tell him what to engrave on the tag, baby." i whimper but don't speak, and your hand comes down hard on my ass. "daddy's little slut," i say in a very small voice. another slap. i say it again louder. another slap. louder, and with a please. another. another. another. you stop after i shout, "please, please engrave my dog tag to say daddy's little slut!" you rub your hand over my sore ass then push me forward, until i'm bent over the counter with my legs spread. "miss?" the clerk asks, causing me to instinctively look up at him. he grins. "can you spell that for me?" each letter comes with another hard slap on my ass. after "daddy's" and "little" you finger me again roughly, bringing me to the edge. after the second edge, i brace myself for another slap, but it doesn't come. instead you grab me and turn me so i'm on my back and spread my legs wide. "you can cum when you're finished, is that clear slut?" i gulp. "yes sir." your hand comes down hard on my oversensitive pussy. S. L. U. on the T, your slap lands directly on my clit and i scream as the orgasm overtakes me.

Just so you know I am addicted to cotton school girl plaid skirts with opaque white pantyhose  or thigh high nylons. Also addicted to gingham checks for skirts and dresses and blouses. These fabrics and patterns really get me excited and turned on sexually and always catches my eye when anyone is wearing these. Also addicted to white in most all feminine clothing, but especially white, tight denim fem jeans and shorts. Also get excited with cotton dresses and skirts and camisole tops in stripes. Love those stripes! Now do not laugh at this but the cotton check table cloths, like in Italian Restaurants and Pizza Parlors also turns me on. I like the smell of that type of cotton fabric along with the check pattern. Horny Crossdresser !!!

Stirring of the Mind Well it was asked in a forum of recent why guys often date younger and I had a quick response for it but it left my mind a stir. So I felt it better to write it out. Why do guys date younger?For myself it is rather simple. Is it the thrill of something so taboo? The sexual conquest? Not for myself. At a certain point men become tired of the drama from women of similar age. In my case I was given options like a single mother who wanted me to buy her a car after a single non date to fix her laptop, or a person who made it her mission in life to crush the souls of those she married out of financial gains and to feel that rush of power. I often found myself in a position of lifting my partner up whilst sacrificing myself and my own needs. Whereas when dating younger you may deal with immaturity, drama over things you now know are really petty, but you get that chance to guide the relationship down a better path than I may of chosen when younger. She trusts me to do whats right and to pull from my years of experience. She respaspects me truly and can be molded into the best form of herself as I help her gain her confidence, knowledge of life, and wisdom she may not of otherwise of gotten with guys her age.

 Master23Mike