Pop That: Unpacking the Brat, Bimbo, and Babygirl Archetypes in Lightskinkeisha’s Anthem some people would look at this song called pop that by the rapper lightskinkeisha as just a ratchet trashy song and move on from there. it is ratchet, but there's more to the picture going on here if you choose to see it.   if you look at the artist lightskinkeisha as a little girl or babygirl this song no longer becomes just a trashy ratchet fun song, but an anthem for an identity within the lifestyle. an anthem of a brat.   the song itself is bombastic and dance y and very bubblegum gritty. but if you take the song and put it through a transpose app or use a tool to transpose it and make the pitch of her voice higher and the speed of the song faster, it transforms it even into another identity if you choose to see...the bimbo.   and so we get the three way combo with a simple song pop that...   babygirl   bimbo   brat   the great thing too is you can look at it individually from each of these lenses, or you can work on seeing it through two at a time, or you can look at it with all three.   people sometimes forget that while someone can be a babygirl that is also a bimbo and a brat, that just because you are a brat it doesn't mean that you are a bimbo, and that some bimbos are also little girls too. i personally don't really live in this world most of the time. but sometimes i have a bit of a brat behavior to me behind the keyboard as the writer. but i like to write about various sides of what the identity of a little girl is. and when i consume media, i see the different sides of what a babygirl is, even if it's not directly relatable to me.   because this is a fun silly pop bop there isn't much to decipher from lyrics wise. while i use esoteric and spiritual references for pop media i don't pull things out of thin air just for the content. however, there are some stanzas' i'd like to focus on.   Big Bank Beisha, bitch Tre Trax, I think we got one, haha It's Trax season bruh   Throw it back, watch me throw it back Got my Daisy Dukes on, I don't know how to act Walk up in the building, make them niggas spend a bag Ho, I been it, that's why you bitches really mad, hold on   when it's a song that is over the top the themes are going to be over the top. one might be initially put off at the focus on her getting men to spend lots of money on her but if you reframe it in the bimbo/brat perspective it makes more sense. she's an exaggerated version of femininity, she's talking about the guy in an exaggerated version of masculinity. and if you see it in a brat frame it's also her testing her boundaries with the guy. the entire rambunctiousness is all about how far can she go before getting 'caught'. how much can she push before it's too much. how wild can she be before she tips it over and breaks it. i see these less about a materialism, and less about superficialness and more about brashness, boundaries, bodaciousness, and crass. especially in a closed relationship it's seeing how smart can you get before you consensually get punished, smacked, talked back to, reprimanded.   I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) Fuck it up, bitch Fuck it up, bitch   I'ma throw that ass back and shake it in a circle (damn) Got your man lookin', yeah, he like the way I work it He gon' blow some racks on me because he know it's worth it (blow it) Body snatched with a face to match, call me perfect Daisy Dukes on, bend it over like Ms. Parker (hey Ms. Parker) Pretty redbone, bitch, I'm badder than a toddler Drop it to the floor and make 'em spend their last dollar All this milk that I'm shakin' make the boys wanna holler   while you could say that lightskinkeisha's reference to badder than a toddler is randomized if you look at her bigger pieces of work it makes sense why when this comes out i squeal with joy. it's a reference of being seen. it's an aesthetic, it's a insider's throwback to if you know you know. she has many songs that reference daddy for the male partner she sings about. and she often references the dynamics of the songs with a power dynamic power scale going on there. an uneven power balance by choice where it's not an equal relationship.   Throw it back, watch me throw it back Got my Daisy Dukes on, I don't know how to act Walk up in the building, make them niggas spend a bag Ho, I been it, that's why you bitches really mad, hold on   I'ma pop that,   I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) Fuck it up, bitch Fuck it up, bitch   Booty, make it bounce, I'ma drop it (drop it) Shake it so fast, I can't stop it (stop it) Make him wanna hit it like a Bop It (twist it) Bust it wide open, I'ma pop it   I'ma look back at it while I shake it on his lap (lap) Got a big ole booty, you can give that shit some dap My pussy taste like Fiji while your pussy taste like tap (Fiji) When he slap that booty, bitch, it's gonna bounce back (haha)   Throw it back, watch me throw it back Got my Daisy Dukes on, I don't know how to act Walk up in the building, make them niggas spend a bag Ho, I been it, that's why you bitches really mad, hold on   I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) Fuck it up, bitch Fuck it up, bitch   I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it u

Guys be like, “men are visual creatures.” Ok sir, 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- co worker 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. Women probably look at him and immediately get the, “oooouuuu shit affect” aka “a lady boner”. Believe it or not us women see fine ass men and can get erect too. Women’s erectile response is similar to men’s. Except internally, our clitoris swells like a penis. Our vagina’s become lubricated and expand in length and width. Some of you just don’t have the panty dropper affect on the women “YOU WANT”  As much as they talk about women, Many men haven’t kept themselves up. They don’t work out so they’re shaped like a bag of laundry, AND MY GOSH WHEN THE LAST TIME SOME YOU HAD A DENTAL EXAM?? And overtime this has disqualified them from the free coochie list. I know it’s hard to hear, but for some of you…THE WOMEN YOU DESIRE, don’t look at you and wanna F***.

I have a calling bigger than myself to be seen and heard, because I have something of value to express.  I'm newer in showing as I learn new things about myself and those around me regularly.  There's always a first and a last of something or another.  I am at rare levels of firsts of what might have happened once upon a time.  Which means, there's plenty of people that have experienced things I have yet to give and receive.  Also, a middle-aged woman putting herself first.   Non-negotiable.  I'm certain of roots that bind within me. Stop the other shoe from falling.  I dare you.

  To a Man-Bride, do not be fooled by the title there is a special relationship that develops between two men that can only be consummated through phallic worship. One side holds the phallus and the other the vessel where that phallus is to dwell in glory. One is the earth and the other is the plow that opens  it and makes it fertile. Not in the sense of conception but in ideas, attitudes, confidence, and fulfillment.  I've always despised the words sub, and passive because the imply a degree of unworthiness. The one who allows phallus to enter him IS a full and total man; because it takes a man to allow another to enter him and hold him inside and effectively owning that part of the body that makes them equals, the phallus. The glory of a male phallus is the ring of his vessel around it, pulsating, embracing, and forever inviting him deeper then who is the more complete I ask? The vessel owns two phalluses and  because of that becomes twice the man. The experience of he who is entered is dual; on one hand he feel a phallus invading his intimacy but also can and touched outside because he has another phallus outside of his body to experience, savor and reach  fulfillment. Therefore, like a precious object he holds both seeds, his and his partner and becomes fertile by being able to put that experience to good use and walk tall, he has become a man's man. The one who entered him is the channel through which this is achieved and it is not a minor task to bring a fellow man out of his own shadow and into his own light. Nor a master, nor a top, not a controller, but an enablerer.  The role of the phallic union is to elevate both men to achieve their best potential and expand their world. Every time they will unite it will be a process of beautification and the union between those two levels of energies can only be expressed as a bride be cause ones opens willingly and a groom because he enters by his own volition. The phallus is the channel of fulfillment and will work both ways as a heterosexual and as a homosexual (in the ancient ancient aception of the word) process of fulfillment phallus illuminates, guides, centers, and diraspects, that is our destiny.  

**The Bear’s Den**   The air in his apartment was thick with the scent of leather and cedar, a primal musk that clung to my skin as I knelt on the cold hardwood floor. My wrists were bound behind me, the rope biting just enough to remind me of my place. At six foot two, I was no small man, but in his presence, I felt like a fragile thing, a hundred pounds of trembling need locked in a cage of my own submission. The chastity device around my cock was a cruel reminder of his control, its metal teeth grazing my skin with every futile twitch of arousal. I was his, utterly, and the weight of that truth made my chest tighten.   He loomed over me, a mountain of muscle and menace, his broad frame blocking the dim light from the single lamp in the corner. His name was Viktor, a bear of a man with a barrel chest, arms like oak trunks, and a beard that scratched my skin raw when he’d kissed me earlier, claiming my mouth with a hunger that felt like a storm. His eyes, dark and unreadable, held a sadistic glint that made my stomach churn with fear and desire. Yet, beneath that cruelty, there was a flicker of something softer—something that made me trust him, even as my heart raced with dread.   “You’re mine tonight,” he growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the room. His massive hand gripped my chin, forcing my gaze up to meet his. “My little cock sock. You ready to be used?”   I nodded, my throat too dry to speak, the chastity cage tightening as my body betrayed me. His lips curled into a smirk, sinister and knowing, as he released my chin and stepped back, his boots heavy against the floor. He unbuckled his belt with deliberate slowness, the clink of metal echoing in the silence. My eyes followed the movement, hypnotized, as he freed himself, his cock thick and heavy, already glistening with intent.   “Open,” he commanded, and I obeyed, my lips parting as he stepped closer. The first thrust was brutal, filling my mouth until I gagged, my eyes watering as he held my head in place. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice softening for a moment, a strange tenderness in his tone. “Take it like a good boy.” His fingers stroked my hair, a fleeting gesture of care that made my chest ache, even as he fucked my throat with ruthless precision.   The chastity cage was torture, my cock straining uselessly against its confines as he used me. He teased me with words, his voice a dark melody. “Look at you, so desperate, so denied. You’ll get nothing until I say so.” His laughter was low, cruel, but his thumb brushed a tear from my cheek, and I leaned into the touch, craving the warmth behind his dominance.   He pulled out abruptly, leaving me gasping, my lips swollen and slick. “Up,” he ordered, yanking me to my feet by the rope binding my wrists. My legs trembled as he led me to the bed, a massive iron-framed thing draped in black sheets. He pushed me face-down, my chest pressed into the mattress, my ass exposed and vulnerable. The air was cool against my skin, but his hands were fire, spreading me open with a possessiveness that made my pulse race.   “You’re gonna feel me,” he said, his voice dripping with dark promise. I heard the snap of a lube bottle, the slick sound of him preparing himself, and then the blunt pressure of his cock against my hole. I whimpered, the stretch immediate and overwhelming, my body resisting even as I craved it. “Relax,” he growled, but there was a gentleness in his grip, his fingers kneading my hips as he eased inside, inch by agonizing inch. The pain was exquisite, a burning fullness that made me feel alive, claimed, his.   He fucked me with a rhythm that was both punishing and deliberate, each thrust driving me deeper into submission. The chastity cage rattled with every movement, a constant reminder of my denial, my cock throbbing uselessly as he used me. “My perfect little sock,” he taunted, his voice tight with lust. “Made for this, weren’t you?” I could only moan, my mind fogged with sensation, the world narrowing to the heat of him inside me.   Then, without warning, he slowed, his thrusts shallow, teasing. I felt a new warmth, a strange pressure, and realized with a jolt what was happening. He was pissing inside me, claiming me in a way that felt filthy and intimate, a violation that made my caged cock ache with need. “Take it,” he whispered, his voice softer now, almost reverent. “Every part of you is mine.” The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of shame and surrender, and I whimpered, my body trembling under his weight.   He pulled out slowly, leaving me empty and aching, only to grab me by the hair and pull me to my knees again. “Open,” he said again, and I did, my mouth ready for him. The taste of him was sharp and bitter as he released another stream, his piss flooding my throat as I struggled to swallow, to please him. His hand cupped my face, his thumb tracing my jaw, and I saw that flicker of care again, a silent promise that he’d never push me past what I could handle.   When he was done, he knelt beside me, his massive frame enveloping me as he untied my wrists. “You did so well,” he murmured, his voice a balm against the raw edges of my submission. He kissed my forehead, his lips soft where they’d been cruel, and pulled me into his arms. The chastity cage remained, a final act of denial, but his warmth, his strength, made it bearable. I was his—used, claimed, and cherished in the dark, mysterious dance of our desires.

Part One    I have you in My grasps, under My complete control, you are sitting there collar and leashed bound, bending to My every wish… or you will be. My thought as I looked at the picture of the man I was about to meet for dinner.  I gave My attire a once over and checked My bag to make sure that I had everything for the night.  While walking out the door, I made a phone call to one of my friends that would be meeting up with me later.  Everything was set to go.    A breath taking beauty walked thought the doors at Blue Moon, A nice but private place. You had been talking to Me for a month now and could not believe your luck. This was going to be one of the best nights in your life or so you thought while I sat down.   We had a nice meal and a few drinks. The night was looking good for you or so you thought, While you left to go to the bath room, Islipped something into your drink to make it a little easier to get you to the house. You wake up in a dark room with a leather collar around your neck.  A black leash was hooked on to make sure that my new toy wouldn’t go anywhere.  Your hands bound with a spreader bar in the middle.  Feet shackled to the wall of My dungeon room.  With a crop, blindfold and CBT in My hand.  First things first I start to put on the cbt, but with no luck for you are too hard at the moment, so I started to take other matters in to hand.  I take My crop and start to slap it against your cock... Telling you to make me happy with letting me put this toy on.  And I dangle it in front of you… punishment for not doing so will be severe.  And you want to please your Mistress, right? I ask. No response from you.  “I’m not   happy”, I said.  And swat another hit to your cock… this time a little yelp came out.  “Do I have your attention, now”…. You answer with a strong but held back “yes Ma’am”.  “Now I told you that this needs to go on you, and you are not obeying me,

My dom gave me a list of topics to talk about.  So here goes... Random stuff you may or may not find interesting about me:   - When asked to classify myself, I'd describe myself as a nudist who is a bit kinky.  My parents were both nudists and I grew up in a household were clothing was optional.  Around the house, being naked is no big deal...  So for example, I am naked right now... - Several people have asked me here if I've been officially "collared".  I'm going to have to say that I haven't officially been collared.  However I'm not 100% percent sure I know what exactly is involved in that.  I do have a dog collar which I wear when my dom requests it,  Since this collarspace afterall, he has requested that I wear it whenever I am here, so I am wearing it now...  My collar is a simple dog collar that we picked up one day at PetsMart... - Am I a "painslut"? No, I am not a painslut.  In no way do I like be beaten, whipped or punched...  I do like rough sex, but that generally involves being tied up, having my hair pulled, and being choked... - Am I a "gang bang slave". No, I am not.   That said, I have had fantasies about it (see my previous journal entries), but I am not interested in pursuing that.  That said, I have had sex with two guys at once.  But that was a long time ago... - Is my dom interested in sharing me with other men.  The answer to that is no.  However there is one exception.  There is a one couple that we've known for years that we feel safe with. On occasion we will swap partners with them.  - Why am I on collarspace?  I'm here because my dom wants me to be here.  That alone is reason enough enough.  He thinks it would be a good idea to have me interact with all kinds of people here.  My dom reads everything I write and everything that I recieve.  In particular, I think it amuses him to see how I interact with men who only view me as fuckmeat. So there you have it, todays journal entry from naked subMegan.  Hope everyone has a great Sunday and I look forward to reading your responses. subMeghan

Touch  I am sure I had sensory processing disorder as a kid. I totally remember crying all the time from some of the stuff my mom used to want me to wear, and I remember her just sitting there looking at me totally baffled trying to assure me it was the softest she could find. Or having to stop 15 times on a school field trip to sit on the floor in the middle of a museum and take off my shoes and pull up my socks because they kept shifting in my shoe and the seam was by my toe... I grew up in the NJ/NY area around Italians, and Jews, and Irish, and lots of "Old World Europeans" who at a minimum bear hugged and kissed one cheek, if not both, if not multiple times each time they greeted you.  I am in the Midwest now where they are a little more reserved.  I can't remember the last time I got a cheek kiss and most of the hugs are just side hugs... I still tend to crash in and hug anyone I know won't flip out from it though lol.  I miss those bear hugs!  Getting one now days is enough to bring tears to my eyes my body needs it so much! The chemical release in my brain is outside of my control! I need this.  Need.  Need like I need food, water, and shelter.  Studies during the pandemic have shown  am not alone in this, but my sensory processing issues probably make it a little extreme for me.  For years scientists have studies out hands and fingers, joints, skin, etc and their sense of touch, but recently they are becoming interested in a subset of touch sensitive nerves in the core regions of our body, such as the back, which have one been discovered.   *“This second type of sensory nerves send signals to areas of our brains that deal with emotional processing. They are most responsive to skin temperature and gentle, stroking touch. Observational studies find that when people are asked to caress their infant, or their romantic partner, they spontaneously use the slow stroking speeds that these nerve fibres prefer. This touch is subjectively perceived as pleasant; it calms and soothes us physiologically, reducing heart rate and buffering against the effects of stress. When stimulated, these nerves send signals via the spinal cord to the brain where they release a cascade of neurochemicals. One of the most notable chemicals among these is oxytocin, a hormone released by low-intensity skin stimulation such as hugs. Oxytocin is known to play important roles in social bonding, and can reduce stress and increase our tolerance to pain. The release of oxytocin during social interactions is context-dependent: only when a hug is wanted will the comforting and rewarding effects be felt. When touch is desired, the benefits are shared by both partners in the exchange.” This explains my desperate need and the reason I melt like a purring kitten when I get it and shut down like an angry Doberman when I don’t.  Take me from a culture that touched all the time, and in sensory processing issues, and then throw widowhood in a post-pandemic world… Touch me.  Don’t ever keep it from me.  I can’t be held responsible if you do.  Just saying…    excerpts from *From the Article “The science of hugging, and why we’re missing it so much during the pandemic by Susannah Walker”  

Attitude matters! I will be clear here. If I choose you and you are not fit, healthy and eat healthy per My desires.  I will put you on a strict diet and exercise program.  I don't care what you weighed in high school or your younger years.  That is not what you look like today.  Who you are today,  what you look like today is all I will see, and matters to Me! Strip naked,  take a long look in the mirror from every angle,  take photos of yourself.  Are you proud of your appearance? Or do you need to put in the work? I am on a journey to better fitness and appearance.  If you are not, or have no ambition to, we will not match up. you don't have to be perfect right now, although that is desirable.   What you do need is to be putting in the work and working on the goal of better health,  healthy eating/diet, and becoming physically fit.  Eliminating substances from your consumption that is not healthy.  Watch 'Biggest Looser', maybe it will inspire you. Its free to watch on freevee app  

Things I pay attention too I read profiles and journals to see what you are about.  What is your name? Names are telling. Is it something about a fetish, kink, or what you are focused on?   I don't care what your fetish or interest list is unless it is your dislikes or hate. Those are mostly the truth and not what you are focused on.  Where do you live?   How far away are you from me?  What I want you to know If you message me from out of state or anywhere further than 50 ish miles away and tell me you want to serve, I want you to know.  You will come to me to meet in California at a local munch at your own expense. After all, you chose to message me and offer to serve.  If you say you will relocate, know you should not assume you will live with me. For this to happen, I would have to know you very well, and the connection would have to be there. This takes time.  I go out into my community to attend munches, play parties, or significant events. I meet like-minded people and meet people who become my friends.  I expect my submissive to do the same and attend to me.  I do not engage in the bedroom, only D/s or M/s.  This is not what I consider being submissive, nor what I am looking for.  I am not interested in sexual services with anyone except the person with whom I am in a romantic relationship.  Romantic relationships take time.  Intimacy is important in any relationship, but to me, it is not sexual.  I do not jump into and out of relationships willy-nilly. I take my time. 

This morning, about 4am, on a long and dark and empty stretch of southbound I95, going about 70mph, I hit a large raccoon.  Despite my being in the center lane, mindfully watching the sides of the roads for anything moving or eyes reflecting, there he just was.  There was no time to swerve, then a sickening impact that I suspect I will replay over and over.  Then there was a lot more noise I at first thought was pieces of him going through my wheel well.   I was still 90+ minutes from home and there were no other cars around and I decided to keep going and see if I could get home before the tire went flat.  I've never hit an animal before, feels awful.   I did make it home by which time lots of noises were coming from the passenger front of my car, took pics, and was shocked to see the extent of the damage to the bumper, all the front lights under the headlight, gone, lost the lining of the wheel well somewhere along the way, etc.  Checked in earlier this morning and there's a puddle of something under my car.   I am no kidding thankful for insurance which is going to help with all of this.  Miserable about the raccoon.  Miserable about the extent of damage.   But, what I realized was how such an incident emphasizes the joy of being owned, or at least in a solid D/s relationship.  There was nobody to call at 4am, or at 6am, no shoulder, nobody to help take the shakes off and get the nervous energy out, nobody to say it is OK, that I would be OK.  There wasn't someone who might have a clue what the puddle was, and a better idea than I about if it was driveable.  There were no feet tangled with mine in the wee hours, the comfort of His touch.  There was no guidance navigating for the first time with an insurance company, getting a ride to the rental car place, dealing with getting the rental, etc.  All scary, solo. There's always so much emphasis on what the sub/slave gives, but this morning was an example of what she gets when "normal" life intervenes and he is there to take charge in addition to being comforter-in-chief.

Dazzling, as if illuminated by a celestial spotlight, she stood next to the passenger door of a Black Mercedes-Benz Roadster.   Parked next to the light pole, the image of her, the car, and the reflective light was surreal.   “Door” she snapped. “ Get my door boy!” Head down he realized she wanted him to open the passenger door. Once open, she backed up to the car, in one graceful fluid motion she bent forward simultaneously sliding her round firm bottom into the leather bucket seat. Clutching her handbag she again snapped “ Close the door boy!”   It took a moment for his brain to adjust to his reality. Closing her door, he went to the drivers side and got in.   Fear of the unknown clouded his brain and overwhelmed his senses.   Her perfume. Her smell. The Leather smell. The car smell. He came aware with the click of her seatbelt. He did likewise. She reached from her seat and started the engine and turned the stereo on. Soft quiet smooth Jazz surrounded them.

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 !!!

Here are a few things that I should have added to my profile but didn't and I don't wanna wait forever for it to be approved again. 1. Do not message me if you are not in my state, it clearly says in my profile I am looking for a Dom in or around my area. This means in North Carolina only (maybe as far as SC but I am not willing to travel). 2. Do not contact me if you are a sub or slave male asking me if I want to own you and you be my so called puppy. I am NOT into pet play and I have a real life dog that is already challenging enough, I don't need a human wannabe dog. I am also NOT a Domme, my name clearly says that I am sub and my profile clearly points that out.  3. No I will not do online with you, my life is very busy as is and sending me a message that says "when are you available" as your first one as well as you having no profile except that you wanna be please orally then yeah you're not getting a response from me.  4. If you think that all subs should be sexual to be in a dynamic move on, I know plenty who are in nonsexual D/s dynamics and they have been going strong for years.  5. Do not tell me that you want to mentor me yet want to play with me. A mentor never plays with who they are mentoring, the person being mentored is looking to that person for advice. If you think differently then don't bother contacting me.  6. Yes I am married, yes he knows I am in the lifestyle and yes he does approve. I have written this in my profile but it seems like it goes ignored. Just because I am married is not the only reason why I am nonsexual, I have other reasons as well.  7. Please stop asking if I have kids. Just because I'm married doesn't mean I do and the answer is no I do not and never want them. If your first message to me is "what's your availability" and you have a virtually blank profile then you will more than likely be ignored.

Be local, because I want to touch you I get that there’s a desire for online play, and that a lot of people are into it. That’s fine. People want what they want, and there’s nothing wrong with that: it’s how they go about getting it that’s the issue. I specifically request that my potential suitors be local because I’m not interested in online relationships. I want to meet you, get coffee or something, go for a walk, see your expressions while I hear your voice, evaluate your demeanor, feel if there’s any spark between us. If that spark exists, I want to touch you. I can’t do that online. Appreciation from afar is okay - I suppose, but unless you’re local or at least have already booked a visit to Seattle, I’m not interested. Visiting the Seattle for business or pleasure? Great. Hinting that it might happen if I give you enough online attention first? Nope. There are people here who are looking for online relationships. Feel free to talk to them, as they’re who you’re looking for. If that’s what you’re interested in, you’re not looking for me.

Looking for an experienced submissive (35+) who can host this weekend. I’m interested in connecting with someone who understands power exchange, communicates well, respaspects boundaries, and values consent and good hygiene. I’m not looking for endless chatting or time-wasters. If you’re mature, reliable, have previous experience, and are genuinely interested, send me a message introducing yourself, including your age, experience level, and availability. If we seem like a good match, we can discuss expectations and see if we’re compatible Interesting in doing pegging and foot worship I'll bring the strap!! dfw area or basically Fort Worth area

Let us play the Let's Pretend game.  (I love the Let's Pretend game!)   Let's pretend that the people typing these profiles and journals and adding pictures and stuff are REAL PEOPLE.  Yup, that might be a bigger ask than is possible.  But let's pretend that is the truth.  It certainly must be for some of us, yes?   Let's further pretend that those who can be defined as real people have been on this site or the predecessor for a while.  Some might have met someone and then UNmet that someone and are back.  Some of those are people who come here lurking but never connecting.  Let's even pretend that some people here are downright serious about all of this but are just having problems connecting with someone they feel is truly compatible.   At the end of the day, however, there is something that we cannot pretend about.  Those of us who are, are real people, with real feelings, and real ambition to eventually find what we want so we don't have to be here any more.  Please take some time to consider others.  Show some respect.  Don't make assumptions about who we are or why we are here.  It can be hard enough without the background noise.   None of us are perfect, and we all have one or two or dozens of flaws.  There is no pretending in the world that can make that not true.  We also have preferences.  Those preferences might very well exclude some these same people who are trying so hard to be right for SOMEONE.  I cannot ask anyone to turn their back on their beliefs or their flaws or their preferences, but what I CAN ask is that we show some kindness, some human dignity.  If anything from the past few years should have taught us is that not only are there trolls online, but many of them started being trolls in real life as well.  People have learned how not to be their best selves.   Be kind.  Be friendly.  MAYBE pretend to think outside the box a little bit.  MAYBE be a little more inclusive, or forgiving those flaws in others that seemed intolerable to you yesterday.  Make someone happy.   I don't want to be the last one here.  Do you?

I met someone recently who was so different than any experience here to date. I felt seen. It's truly a scary thing, when you hide between what you put to paper and what you keep to yourself. You don't really think anyone will notice, but you sort of hope someone does, but maybe from a safe distance. He noticed. He read everything I ever wrote here, told me his thoughts and speculations, shared some of his writing. He got goofy with me. It was just about the best everything someone could do in my book. He shared vulnerabilities with me, too. I felt valued. I felt comfortable. It made me want to be brave, at least a little. But things can change quickly. I don't know if he took it for more than it was or if something else happened, but he's gone. Maybe I said the wrong thing. Maybe he was moody. Whatever it was, we were not in sync that day. Part of me feels like one not-so-great conversation shouldn't outweigh the rest, especially in the beginning. The other part remembers that what is meant to be will always find me. He was pretty wonderful. Maybe he will find me again, and maybe we will hold patience for each other enough to find out. Maybe someone else is waiting around the proverbial corner. There is never a shortage of men. But good men, those are harder to come by. I needed some time after the liar. I think I'm ready again. 

Since updating profiles takes so long, I will do journals instead. I could have died last week.  I spent 5 days in the hospital and the doctors told me if I hadn't gone in as quickly as I did, it would have been a lot worse.  Maybe too late.  It gave me a lot of time to think and a lot to think about.  It really brought home that I am 66 years old, and people my age die all the time and that life expectancy for men in the USA is only 72.  Of course there are a lot of factors that go into that and that is an average of all male babies born, and when I factored in all my personal info it came out to 95 years.  And I take good care of myself and eat mostly the right foods and watch my weight.  Still, this last week made me truly think about my own mortality and that for all that I don't think of myself as old, shit happens.  And the older you get, the more likely it is to happen. So I thought a lot about what I truly wanted to do with the rest of my life.  I have already achieved a lot of my goals.  Nice house.  White picket fence, well it's red brick wall, but still counts.  My kids are grown and independent.  I have friends, hobbies, plenty to keep me busy.  My retirement is funded and I can live comfortable for well past those 95 years.  The real question is what do I want to do with those years.  And being a slave isn't it.  Well it is, but not all of it.  I want to live those years.  Travel, go to events, experience.  And I don't want to do it alone. I want to do it with you.  I just don't know who you are yet.  I know you are wickedly smart, have an engaging sense of humor and value integrity as much as I do.  Trust has to be 100 percent in both directions.  99.99 percent isn't good enough.  And you have to be a total perv.  I mean make the average perv blush.  And yes, of course with informed, consenting adults only.  I'm perverted, not evil. You should enjoy geekery.  An old girlfriend used to call me the elder geek.  I was a geek before it became pop culture.  You should have ambition.  I am not a sugar daddy.  Though if you are still on your way up, continuing your education or just starting your career or business, I can shoulder the load until you can hold your own. I acomplished more before my 27th birthday than most people do in a lifetime.  I deserve the best.  At least the best for me, and I won't settle for less.  And I seek a woman who also seeks the best for herself and won't settle for less.  Remember the first Rocky movie?  Rockie talking to Paulie about himself and Adrian? “She's got gaps, I've got gaps, together we fill gaps.” Let's fill each other's gaps.  No match is perfect. Every relationship requires work for all involved.  Both to build and to maintain.  I'm willing to put in the time and energy if you are.  

STRANGE FRUIT 2026 A PIECE I WROTE ABOUT ALL THE BULLSHIT GOING ON THIS COUNTRY STILL.   SEEMS LIKE WE ARE STILL HUNGRY FOR MORE STRANGE FRUIT . EVEN IN 2026 THE VULTURES HUNGER FOR THE SWEET FLESH SLOW HANGING ON THE VINE . AS THE BIRDS GATHER AND FIGHT FOR THE TASTE OF THE FIRST MORSEL . BUT THIS FRUIT IS NOT AS SWEET AS IT SEEMS BECAUSE UNLIKE TRUE FRUIT THIS DOESNT HAVE THAT SWEET TASTE THEY NORMALLY CRAVE. THIS FRUIT HAS ALWAYS HAS BEEN POISONED FROM THE ROOT TO SOUL I MEAN SOIL , IT GROWS FROM.THE GROUND SOAKED WITH CENTURIES OF BLOOD, PAIN,AND HATE. A BREEDING GROUND WHERE NOTHING THAT IS MEANT TO THRIVE GROWS DESPITE ALL THE BIRDS AND ANIMALS MEANT TO CUT ITS LIFE SHORT AND STUNT ITS GROWTH .THIS FRUIT THAT HAS BEEN BRED THROUGH YEARS, DECADES AND CENTURIES OF BLOOD , HATE, AND DEATH. BUT THIS FRUIT RESILIENT . GROWN UNDER THE PRESSURE OF OPPRESSION AND BEATENED DOWN. EVERYTIME THIS FRUIT BEGINS TO FLOURISH AND STARTS TO GROW TOWARDS THE SUN. THE CROWS START TO GATHER AND THE MOUTHS START TO WET, AS THEY STARE IN RAVENOUS HUNGER AT THE DELICIOUS FRUIT, WITH ITS SWEET NECTAR SLOWLY DRIPPING TO THE GROUND. THIS FRUIT THAT ALL THE CROWS AND CROWDS OBSESSED OVER, DID ANY EVERYTHING TO GET THEIR CLAWS ON. THE MOMENT THEY OBTAINED THIS FORBIDDEN FRUIT THEY CELEBRATED BY RIPPING APART THE FLESH . GOBBLING UP ITS SWEET BUT BITTER FLESH RELISHING IN THE EXCTASY . THIS RARE DELICACY THAT HAS BEEN GROWN AND PICKED FOR HUNDREDS OF YEARS. EVEN THROUGH THE ROUGHEST OF CONDITIONS FROM EXTREME DROUGHT TO DROWING IN THE JUICES OF THE OTHER FRUIT THAT WAS LEFT HANGING ON THE VINE .YOU CAN FIND THIS FRUIT YEAR ROUND .THIS RARE FRUIT ON THE VINE EVEN IN THE HARSHEST WINTER. STILL HANGS AND SWINGS IN THE BREEZE. THIS BEAUTIFUL RARE FRUIT THAT THEY ALL CRAVE. COMES IN SEVERAL VARIETIES. PICKED AT DIFFERENT STAGES SOME PICKED BEFORE THEY WERE MATURE OTHERS LATER IN THEIR GROWTH CYCLE.THIS FRUIT THAT COMES IN MANY VARIETIES. LIKE A YOUNG 21 YEAR I MEAN DAYS OLD VARIETY CALLED KYLE, OR A 31 AGED VARIETY CALLED DAPHY. FOR THOSE WITH MORE MATURE TASTES THEY ALSO HAD A VARIETY CALLED NURUL. BUT IF THOSE VARIETIES DONT INTEREST YOU I'M SURE If WE TURN OUR HEADS AND WAIT. A BRAND NEW YOUNG FRUIT WILL APPEAR. FRESH ON THE LINE I MEAN VINE. YOU WILL KNOW ITS THIS SPECIAL FRUIT. BY THE GATHERING OF THE CROWS. LISTEN YOU CAN HEAR THEM HUNGRILY CALLING. CAU CAW!

I have not been writing much in this journal but hoping it might just perk someone's interest. I just moved back from Texas and now living in Northwest Indiana. About 20 minutes from downtown chicago and live in Schererville just across the Illinois border. I have been on this site for many years unsuccessfully and still hold out hope to finally achieve my goal of serving a strong, Dominant Woman. I can assure You am for real and today the first of Decmember once again spending another birthday allone. I am not evil, and have met some off the site which has not amounted to anything . I am on Fetlife under subndyer and started to branch to other  sites. I still hold out hope on this site. Am a single submissive which can be molded into a slave who has been off and on in the lifestyle for about 20 years. I have no children , no wife , girlfriend, hell dont even have a dog. But can assure You my loyality, respect, obedience, and You happiness is first priority. If I perk Your interest please drop me a line would not disappoint

I'm still in search of a LOCAL domestic to do house cleaning (dusting, bathroom cleaning, laundry, maybe some light cooking, etc.)  I'm also seeking a grunt to help Me clear out some useless stuff in the basement. Not to mention the ongoing search for a local special sub/slave to serve Me and who will learn his place. I have these listed separately because I know that not everyone can handle all that's involved and do it well.  If you can, let Me know. Note: I have a dog in case you have allergy issues. Serious inquiries only.

  Bitter Sweet Symphony   THE VERVE  Well I never pray But tonight I'm on my knees yeahI need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeahI let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind, I feel free nowBut the airways are clean and there's nobody singing to me nowNo change, I can changeI can change, I can changeBut I'm here in my moldI am here in my moldAnd I'm a million different peopleFrom one day to the nextI can't change my moldNo, no, no, no, noI can't changeI can't change

This is a short story i wrote a couple of years ago . . Is your life really that empty? Maybe the best words I have ever spoken Is your life really that empty? That may be the best opening line since ‘.......I was born in 1518 in the village of Glenfinnan on the shores of Loch Shiel. And I am immortal'. In truth maybe not, but these words got me here, pressing keys on my pc’s keyboard about to tell my story. A good opening line, true, although not a good place to start my tale, so, where to begin? Who I am, where I was when I first saw her or the reason I spoke those words? Maybe to ground this thing would be best, I am male, a Dom, a sadist, not rich, not powerful, slightly artistic, getting to be older than I want to be living in a small suburb of a small city in the English Midlands. It was a Tuesday, early afternoon and I was on a coach going to Nottingham to check out an art gallery to see if they would exhibit, or sell, some pieces of my work. Don’t get all excited thinking I am a master painter or sculptor selling pieces for hundreds of thousands of pounds (yes pounds and not dollars) I sell my work for between £100 – 200 if I am lucky enough to find a buyer.Anyway, I first saw the girl, woman, standing on the platform along with others, waiting for our coach to arrive and noticed her because she fell into that style of female I like, slim, simple hair style, makeup tending towards the Goth, in jeans, ankle boots and a soft leather jacket and no handbag – simple pleases me. I am a good and sadistic Dom but I am no good at talking to females I do not know in vanilla situations so I took in her images, filed it under, ‘what a shame’ and then as the coach arrived I entered and walked to the back and sat down only to find she followed and sat in the seat in front of me on the other side of the isle. As we pulled out of the station I saw her take out a book, find her place, about a third of the way through, and begin to read. To say my mental image of her was shattered would be far too extreme but I was so disappointed in her. If she was vanilla it was such a pointless thing to read and if into my ‘lifestyle’ a really sad thing to read and I didn’t know which was worse. I tried to ignore her, and the book, as the minutes ticked by.  I watched houses and trees and cars pass by before we reached the dual carriageway, connecting the two cities, and the coach built up speed. I noticed all other passengers were seated nearer the front leaving at least seven rows of empty seats between us and them and I decided this was the universe telling me to do something – the universe seldom tells me to do things in case you were wondering. I moved across the back seat until I was slightly to her left but still behind her and said in a normal speaking voice, not too loud, not too quiet, “Is your life really that empty?"I accept this could be a very insulting thing to say to anyone especially a stranger on a bus but the words formed and so were spoken. She lifted her head from the book but did not turn around, I could see her face from where I sat and her mouth turned down slightly, not in a frown but in a puzzled thoughtful way and lowering the book to her knees she said, “Why do you say that?" "I am a Dom and a sadist”, I said although not sure why I was so truthful, “I don’t usually tell people as most do not understand.” I paused waiting to see what she would do or say. "I see.” Was all she said, which didn’t give me any sort of clue or guide to what I should do or say next.  "The book does not relate to the real world of BDSM, most of us are so normal we are as boring as vanilla folk.” I saw a smile come to her face at this so continued, “It is only when we play that many of us diverge from the norm, but I suppose the same could be said of golfers or those that go tenpin bowling every week.” She laughed at this; thank god.  "How do you dominate people then, do you do it with men or woman or both?” She did not turn around as she spoke.  "Before I answer that, have you tried anything in a fetish way; are you sub or Domme or both?"  "You would certainly call me vanilla I think. Everyone is reading the book so I thought I would too.” She paused for a heartbeat and then said, “I am not sure if I would like to submit to a man, I think I might giggle too much if I had to call someone Sir or Master."  "There is much rubbish talked about BDSM, you do not need to call him Sir if that is not what you want, I have little interest in a female calling me Sir unless it comes naturally to her at a time that seems correct to use it.  "BDSM is like real life, it is not a video game, it merely has a few given rules that vary as much as any vanilla couple’s rules vary, that and blindfolds and restraints obviously"  "Something else I would not like until I trusted him enough.” She said and added “How to you write a contract?"  "I am a sadist, I like a little fear in my play, if you trusted me, or knew me too well, could you really be scared of me? I thought this was a statement too far and wondered if I was trying to sabotage this conversation. “There is even more bullshit talked about contracts.  No contract is needed by 999 out of a 1000 couples. “I say ‘do you want to play’? You answer ‘I am new to this’, I say, ‘understood’. What more needs saying?"  I watched her face, and saw a small frown crease her brow, “Remember, you have the power to stop whatever is happening by simply saying a single word, it is easier to stop what is happening in a BDSM encounter than, say, trying to get rid of some half drunk moron in a nightclub who is likely not to take no for an answer. If I do something you do not like, it ends and the play stops, it is in the skill of the Dominant one to not make you say that word."  "I don’t understand,” she said, ”if you are dominant how could I stop you doing what you want especially if I am blindfolded or tied up?"  "Blindfolded, AND tied up” I said with a smile, “I said before, BDSM is real life, if you say the stop word and the dominant one continues that is assault, or as close to it as make no difference, BDSM does not give anyone the right to, umm, go too far."  The coach stopped and two elderly couples boarded and I watch with not a little ‘fear’ as they decided where to sit, the universe was still on my side and they sat side by side 5 rows in front of the girl.  We were well passed half way to the city and I didn’t know where the girl was going, the University of Nottingham Campus would be reached in 5 minutes or so and she could easily be a student there. So as the coach moved on I said.  "It is much easier to show you, show someone I mean, what happens in BDSM play than to describe it, just like if you were going on a first date in the vanilla world you go on it and see how things progress”.  She sat for a second and then put the book back in her pocket, “Thanks for the chat but I have to get off in a couple minutes."  "Ok, I don’t usually talk like this on buses with cute females I don’t know so thank you for not running away screaming.”  I reached into my pocket and took out my business card, “I am a body piercer so I have a card, if you are bored give me a ring and maybe I can answer some more questions or, if your curiosity gets stronger, I can show you my Domly skills.” I reached forward and placed the card on her left thigh, gently pressing the card down, before taking my hand away.  She looked at it before picking it up and putting it in her pocket, so I said “I have a normal house on a normal street, although I do have a play room of sorts with some interesting things to play on and with, so if you visit you do not have to walk though a dark wood to a haunted castle."  she took this the way I hoped and laughing said, “That’s a relief, but this is my stop so bye"  "Have fun.” I said as she stood and I was very impressed, not sure why though, that as she got up and walked down the coach she didn’t look back to see who I was.  The coach stopped she got off and I thought I would not see her again and wondered if I should get off too but my commonsense won out and I sat still as we moved off. “One day I will remember to ask a females name” I said to the back of the seat in front of me and again thought ‘what a shame.'  "Good morrow.” Yes, I oft times answer the phone this way. It is Thursday at 7pm and I have been relaxing watching a video on tv.  "Hello.” A female voice replies.  A silence follows which I do not interrupt wondering if this is another recorded message asking if I want to make a personal injury claim or some other tedious drivel. “I thought reality might be better than fiction."  "Ah.” I am a sadist of few words but sometimes one has to be a little helpful, “That is easy to do, come to my home, knock on the door and then enter, all other decisions will be made for you from that point. If you wish things to stop simple say ‘Lucifer’ and I will stop whatever I am doing.  "You do like us to be scared don’t you, I thought we would be discussing what and how, not simply being told to visit."  "When you visit it will be a time of physical interactions, this will not be a time for you to serve me as a slave or for silly things like sitting at my feet waiting for permission to get up or speak."  "Ok, I just come and that’s it, you don’t want to know more about me."  "You are cute, you want to know more about submission and you called me.   That is all I need, I told you before it is for me to play without making you want, or need, to stop me; so all will be found out when you are here."  "When can I come and should I wear something specific?"  "What an entertaining fem you are, if free tonight come at 9 pm or come tomorrow at the same hour. As for clothes, if you wish to please then, as I am a male; heels, hold ups or stockings or bare legs, a thong, g-spring or nothing. Short skirt, not denim (hate denim), shirt with buttons and a skimpy bra or no bra, a coat may be wise as it is somewhat cold out."  "You sound like you have said that before, I will see what I can do and tonight would be best in case I chicken out tomorrow."  I gave her my address and added, “For your safety, and to make you feel a little more relaxed, tell your best friend you are visiting me, say about piercing if that is easier, and tell them you will call when you arrive here too. You will be safe here but it is a wise thing to be careful."  "I will see you tonight then, what should I call you."  "I will be waiting, and for tonight you can call me Demon.” I clicked the end call icon on my mobile and laughed out loud, maybe not such a waste after all.  I never plan what I am going to do with a sub, that way leads to disappointment more times than not, so I sat and watched my video till a suitable time came for me to stop it. I have a small pack of dogs so I sent all of them to their beds and went upstairs to change.  I checked to see that my playroom was ready and laid out my toys on a rack then, with 30minutes to go, had a quick shower and dressed in my Domly garb.  I decided to start the evening off on a high pressure moment, to see how she reacted, so dressed in leather trousers, knee length New Rock boots, vest and full length leather coat, all in black, obviously. To complete the attire I had recently made some leather gloves and a full hood, both with spikes and piercings, and these I put on before going downstairs.  I have a hallway leading from my front door to my kitchen with a turn to the right half way down leading to my staircase. At five to nine I turned out the light in the hall, darkness fell, I turned on the kitchen light, closing the door so only a thin sliver of light could be seen, and bought to life my cd player to beginning playing Metallica’s Black album.  I stood silently at the foot of my stairs, a still, dark shadow in the darkness, calmly wondering if she would come or not.  What a good girl she was, just after the 2nd track, ‘Sad But True’, began there as a double tap on the door.  I clenched my fists as a smile, which could not be stopped, came to my lips when the door opened and closed.  I have a tiled floor and her heels, clicked nicely five times before she appeared looking ahead towards the light in front of her.  I stepped quickly forward making a short, high pitched hiss to encourage her to turn a little towards me. Her head turned and, I am sure, she caught a glimpse of a moving darkness just before my right hand clamped over her mouth and my left arm swung over her shoulder allowing my left hand to grip her right arm, pinning her closely to my body.  "You came.” I whispered in her ear.  Her body was shaking violently and I could feel her breath coming in short, sharp, warm pants against my fingers, “Good girl, now control your breathing and relax a little, I have you safe and sound.” As I said this I used my right hand to brush her hair back over her ear and gently kissed it and, moving my head a little, I bit the lobe with just a little pressure from my teeth.  Even in her present shaken state, or maybe because of it, she let out a deep, long sigh and I felt her weight lean into me as she slumped slightly in my arms. Another gentle kiss on her ear followed by words spoken so softly they were more felt than heard, “Clever girl, pleasure and pain, fear and ecstasy and yours to enjoy or stop with a single word.” It is wise to remind a novice of their safeword I find in case, in the excitement of the new, they forget.  My right hand moved slowly inside her coat, which was of a dark material and almost as long as mine. My fingers slipped between the buttons of her shirt to rest lightly on a shear and half cup bra. Her flesh was very warm as I pushed my index finger under the top of the material and rolled her nipple under it then, drawing back my nail, I scraped over the small budding flesh. Another sweet sigh came to my ears.  I thought one more experience, before going up stairs, so my hand left her breast and moved slowly up to her throat and then, with a strong push, I sent her to thud against the wall and tightened my grip.  In the darkness I saw her eyes open wide as she saw my hooded face for the first time, “Sensations,” I said, “it can be all about sensations.”  “Upstairs, time to show you what the book could not.”  I released her and let her lead the way upstairs and into my playroom, the light was on dimmer so added a little dungeony atmosphere. I touched her shoulder to stop her then walked further into the room and sat on a chair facing her.  “Take off your coat.” I said.  I suppose it might be entertaining, and pleasing, to give a short deion of the girl at this point.  As I mentioned she fell perfectly into what I consider appealing, 5ft 7inchs tall, give or take an inch, a size 8 (I know such things as I sell corsets too) with breasts that fit nicely into my hand. Her hair, this evening, was shoulder length, straight and black with, something like burgundy hints. Her face was perfect, as only teenager’s skin can be, without wrinkles or lines and wearing black eyeliner and dark red lipstick.  As she took off her coat, which was a deep purple, I saw she was wearing a red shirt with full sleeves, a soft cotton skirt of a darker red that came to mid thigh, black fishnets and black, ankle boots, maybe, the same as on the first occasion I saw her.  “Hold-up’s or stockings? I asked, “show, don’t tell”  “You really don’t like small talk.” She said and lifted the hem of her skirt to show the lacy elasticated top of hold-ups.  “In case you do not know what these things are,” I waved my left hand to indicate my play furniture, “That is a St. Andrew’s Cross, a simple why to hold you safely, and securely, when being flogged; many like it this way, Dom and sub.  That is a spanking bench, you can lean against it or kneel on the lower cushion, also a nice height to fuck on. I have a pony, which is easier to show you it use than explain; maybe if you visit again I will let you ride it. And on the wall behind you there are many securing points if the cross is not wanted.”  “Come and kneel between my legs.” I said unzipping my coat and opening my knees.  She did not move and looked a little uneasy, “Be a good girl and come here so I can put some cuffs on your wrists. Now she came forward and knelt down, sitting on her heels and placed her right hand on my thigh.  “A little show of defiance?” I asked and not waiting for an answer I put on a leather restraint.  “These were the first things I ever made when I came to the Life.” She watched me intently with a small smile as I fastened the strap then, when it was done, she gave me her left hand for the other restraint.  “Close your eyes.” I said and once they were shut I said, “Open your legs and put your hands behind your back.” Her skirt rose up and I could see pale skin above the fishnets as she obeyed. I reached down and gently pulled my nails along her inner thigh and then sat back to look at her.  “In a few moments I will use some of my toys on you, I will begin with a soft toy and use it gently but then I will change it and use another type of toy and change again and each change will mean more sensation until it brings pain and maybe ecstasy”  I picked up a blindfold and told her to open her eyes and come closer. Once it covered her pretty blue eyes I told her to give me her hand and to stand up.  “Take off your skirt and give it to me.” She pulled down the zip at her hip and climbed out of the skirt. She wore a thin red g-string which was mostly lace and very seethough.  “Give me your right hand.” She did and I placed it on my left shoulder, “Now give me your right foot so I can add an ankle cuff. “Now your left.” Once the other restraint was on I ran my hand along the underside of her leg, over her hold-ups, across skin and gently touched the g-string with my finger tips.  I lifted her foot off my knee and, standing up, led her back to my flogging wall.  “As this is your first time I will let you keep your arms down by your side, I will still tie them as don’t want you covering yourself, but it is a little more comfortable this way. First though I need to do this.” I unbuttoned her shirt and took it off her compliant body. Her bra matched her g-string, cut low letting half a nipple show above both cups. I lifted out her left breast and sucked hard on her nipple pinching it between thumb and forefinger as I let it fall from my mouth, forcing a gasp of pain, or pleasure, from her lips.  I tied red rope to her left wrist restraint securing her hand about 6 inched from her side then did the same with her right wrist, then, before continuing and because she could no longer see me, I removed my hood and coat. I knelt in front of her and kissed her navel before tying a rope to her left ankle restraint and then her right, forcing her legs almost three feet apart  I sat back on my boot heels and looked at her, chest rising and falling quickly as she breathed in short, shallow breaths, one nipple, very pink, hard rested over the top of red material and moving down to more red material, wet and slick as her body, and mind, responded to stimuli physical and mental.  “This is a suede flogger.” I said beginning to gentle swing it in a figure of eight so that its movement caused a breeze that caressed her skin; goosebumps appeared over her arms.  I took half a step closer and the 18 tails brushed against flesh creating delicate slapping sounds. Downwards over left breast then right breast, from shoulder to nipple then, with a slight change of action, from hip to navel, left then right with not too much force, letting the suede tails move across skin once or twice a second.  I took another half step increasing the speed of my swing and the impact now made a very nice sharp sound. An added bonus, for me anyway, was that her hidden nipple had been forced out by the flogging action and the tails hit each pink morsel on each pass of the flogger.  Her skin was turning pink so I stopped and, discarding my flogger, ran my hands over her gently, creating marks with my nails and feeling the warmth I had created.  I have a very sharp dagger, broad of blade and 12 inches long in my playroom, I unsheathed it and laid the cold blade on her left breast, a nice intake of breath was my reward. I moved the edge across her breasts and under the right strap of her bra. A quick upwards pull and the strap split in two, a reverse journey, with a little more pressure this time, ended in another strap cut through. I reached behind her to unclipped the strap and her head came forward to rest against my neck and I felt a gentle kiss alight there. The clip opened (yes I can do this one handed) and felt the bra fall to the floor.  “More.” Was the single word she breathed against my neck.  “Obviously, little one.” My reply.  3 fingers of my right hand moved up quickly to slap the red material of her g-string, ‘very wet indeed’ I thought as I stepped back and reached for my red and black 36tail flogger.  Now, as the multi tails hit, her muscles twitched and small panted sighs came from her lips. Heavy, thudding hits moved a breast with each contact and made a wonderful sound as they hit her flat stomach, only a couple minutes of this and her skin was red and she was dancing on her toes with each hit  I stopped and dropped the flogger into my play bag and stood still simply looking at her, I had a strong, and strange, urge to untie her and carry her to my bedroom and gently make love to her for she looked so innocent and young tied against my wall. I had an overwhelming desire to ‘comfort, no wrong word, worship her was much closer to the mark.  Her head tilted to the left, as though listening for me, and then said, “Demon: Sir? Is everything alright?”  A slow smile returned to my lips and, stepping forward, slapped down hard on her left breast stinging the fingers of my hand. She cried out in pain and, no doubt, shock and her blind eyes looked down to her hurting flesh as her hand tried to reach up to ease the sensation  "All is just as it should be.” I said, “One more toy and then you can turn around for a time.”  I have two toys I call ‘little and big sister’, little sis is a whip flogger with a jointed tail section joining 8 shortish leather tails to the main body of the whip, very flicky and stingy; perfect for nipples and caressing g-strings with touches of fire.  Following the heavy beat from the music, heard and felt from downstairs, I flicked the tails at her legs, aiming just above her knees and, with a strong wrist action, moved the tails slowly upwards, hitting one leg then the other. I was tempted to aim at that small piece of red material but did not want to risk her stopping the play. I, therefore, moved outwards as I got higher and then continued moving towards her navel and up over her breasts. I was rewarded with many twitches, sighs and seeing her hands clenching and unclenching.  I pushed this play as much as I dared, as I love the way this toy touches nipples with fiery kisses, so I watching her face and body intently, looking for the moment when her strength, courage, tolerance or, god forbid, boredom got the better of her.  She was shaking her head from side to side, facing the heavens her mouth open sucking in air as though drowning, so I slowed my swings and eased off the pressure until finally I stopped.  Throwing the toy in to my bag I put my arms around her and pulled her to me, after a moment I raked my nails down her back – sensation upon sensation without time to recover or relax into a lessened state of awareness  “If you do not want this just says no, other things can still continue.” I said and slipped 2 fingers under her g-string and into her wet, warm cunt.  She almost screamed as she thrust her hips forward on to my hand so, smiling (being a sadist makes me smile a great deal), I thrust my fingers into her letting my palm thud into her clit.  I am a Dom, a sadist and I love to inflict pain but I do not like receiving it, so I had an entertaining decision to make for, as my fingers continued to make her body shake and quiver, her mouth found my shoulder and her teeth found my flesh and she bit me as the orgasm, I knew was coming, racked her body.  I added a finger and speed and as her groaning breaths moved against my skin I almost forgot my tortured flesh until she cried out, releasing her hold on me. As her body danced in uncontrolled spasms while waves of orgasm rippled through her the pain in my shoulder doubled up giving me an incentive to reinforce the speed and strength of my fingers lifting her onto her very toes.  “Oh god, stop please stop, for fuck sake stop, god oh god oh god.” Such sweet words tripped continually from her gasping mouth, and like the good Dom I am, I continued, She had arched her back, a beautiful human sculpture curving from toe tip to crown of head resting on the wall with nipples pointing to the sky,  I bent down and bit into her left nipple, teeth clamping hard, head pulling back and lips clamped to allow me to suck hard and long.  I felt a sudden explosion of hot wetness on my hand and she screamed in one long wild cry, second after second her scream continued  as my fingers and teeth did their work, “Demon, Lord, Sir, please, please stop.” she begged as the scream finally died  I stopped my fingers movement but left them buried inside her, releasing her nipple I supported her weight with my left arm as she straightened up to rest against the wall behind her. My fingers rolled over each other in the warmth of her cunt as I slowly withdrew them.  “Open your mouth”, I said, “You have made a mess on my hand.” This she did and as I placed my fingers close to her lips her tongue came out and eagerly licked them clean of her unexpected reaction. “Good girl.” I said as I watched her clean my hand.  “A slight rest, little one, then we will continue with more toys if you still wish it.” I watched her face hoping she would not want to stop. She said nothing as her breathing slowed. I asked, “Would you like some cold water?” With a slight nod of her head I said, “Stay still while I am gone, it will be only seconds but continue to rest against the wall your legs may not want to obey you if asked to do more than stand still.”  On impulse I gentle kissed her lips, tasting her cunt on them, before leaving to run cold water into a glass, returning I let her sip for a few moments until the glass was almost empty.  I placed my right hand, cold from holding the glass, against her cheek and let it travel over her skin to her shoulder then down her arm to reach the restraint. As I untied the rope I said, “I am not trying to break you, little one, I am not trying to release your hidden goddess or any other such sad drivel, I seek only to let you know yourself, your limits, your desires and allow you the freedom to enjoy and act on them.”  With the last rope untied and kneeling in front of her – I am worshipping again I thought to myself - I ran my hands up her legs and under the thin straps of her g-string and then slowly pulled them down her legs until she obediently lifted her right foot, then her left, to allow me to remove them.  I thought for a second or two, artistic considerations my only concern (sometimes my mind takes little detours) and then, making a decision, I removed her boots, ankle restraints then hold ups making sure my hands travelled slowly down her legs as I did so.  Naked, the first time is always so uniquely special, it is a shame how familiarity can diminish the beautiful sometimes - much too deep – maybe tis the fault of Metallica’s ‘Nothing Else Matters’ which is now playing.  No tattoos, no body piercings, (maybe I can add a piece of jewellery so she will never forget me) a tiny scar above her right knee, cunt, now swollen and pink, clean shaven, her skin red with a few subtle marks remaining from the flogging. Worshipping indeed, it is a good thing she wears a blindfold.  I stand and, taking her hand, pull her away from the wall, “Time to turn around,” I say, “Wait”  I leaned a 10 foot piece of wood, 10 inches wide by 2inches thick, against the flogging wall where she had been standing and then placed her hand on it, “Lean on this, it will hold your weight do not worry. It is best if you rest your head on your hands as this get your arms away from the flogger’s tails”  I caressed her back with my nails, leaving swirlling marks in her skin, “I have 2 toys like the ones you have felt, then others that are more severe, twin tailed straps in leather and rubber and then whips and for your arse I have paddles and a horse crop. You may be surprised how much you will like your back being flogged but I would hate for your front to feel left out”  Resting my weight against the full length of her body, crushing her against the hard wood, I reached around to attach a butterfly clamp to her right nipple and she cried out a little, which was pleasing, as it bit. I attached the other to her left nipple and said, “There is a chain between them, do not pull away from the wood or you will not enjoy the result.”  ‘Big Sister’ is a flogger with 12 plaited, leather tails about 36inch in total length, I stood behind her and, again using the typical figure 8 action, began to touch her skin, very gently to start and at a slow speed too.  Building up speed and strength over a couple of minutes she began to make sweet music of sighs and little cries, the tails hit with delicious sharp sounds of their own as I began to punctuate the pattern of swings by sending much stronger whip like flicks at her arse, which, soon made her tense her muscles in anticipation of the next strike.I laid this toy down and picked up my purple and black Cougar (a longer 12 tail leather cat with 4in leather thongs at each tail end). I began again using this new toy in the same place and in the same pattern but then moved to my left, continuing to hit as I moved.  Once I stood level with her shoulder and about a stride from her I changed the way I used the Cougar. I now brought it down in single strokes, striking from shoulder blade to shoulder blade and moving down her back to her arse using much more strength especially when connecting, horizontally, on her reddening arse cheeks.  I could see her face as I stuck, and with each hit her teeth bit into her bottom lip. I said, continuing to hit, “Your choice, 12 hard strokes to upper back or arse?” she did not reply for a couple of seconds so I added, “And then I will take the clamps of your nipples.”  “Bum” she replied so I hit her hard on her shoulders and said “Bum, what”  “Bum, Sir” she said quickly after a gasp  “I was expecting a ‘please’, but Sir will do.” And then added, “count them as I hit in case I forgot how many and have to start again.”  She did as was told and by the time she got to 12 her voice was shaking as the strikes had gotten harder, “Good girl,“ I said and throwing the Cougar onto my bag I rubbed her back running hands over slight welts in her skin. Standing behind her I kneeded her arse for half a minute to ease the sting and then moved to kneel by her head.  “A new sensation now, what fun this will be.” I could see her face react as she tried to work out what I meant, “Your sweet, poor, tortured nipple hurt when the clamp went on but now is almost bearable. But when I take it off, new blood with rush back in, nerves will awaken and you will have an experience to file away and fear for the next time. Rubbing it will greatly ease the pain but do not rub it until I say you can.”  I held the clamp and because I am a sadist I twisted it first with a gentle tug, she squealed loudly, “Sorry little one, I just wanted to make sure you remember my words.” I pushed and the clamp opens, her nipple sticking to it for a second before coming free.  Her mouth opened and she sucked air in in gasps as the pain returned to her pink flesh, it was still flattened from the clamp’s pressure and I waited for a count of 5 then said, “You may rub it now.”  Quickly her right hand reached under her and he caressed her breast and nipple, a most rewarding sight. I let this go on for a short time still holding the removed clamp.  “Now then, time to repeat this joy. You get a choice.” I released my hold on the removed clamp and it swung down freely to tug gently on her other nipple, another squeal; being a sadist is fun indeed.  “You can give me a reward, for all my kind attention, and rub your nipple straight away or you must count 60 seconds before I let you rub after it comes off.”  In a most sweet and quiet voice she asked, “What reward, Sir?”  I stood and stepped slightly forward so my leather trousers just touched her upper arm.  ”You can open your mouth.”  “I don’t think I can count to 60, Sir, so the reward is wiser.” I noticed she was smiling and as I pulled down my zip I said, “I must be doing something wrong if you are still smiling. Open.”  I slipped my prick into her hot mouth and, leaning over her, put my left hand between her shoulder blades ready to release the remaining clamp. I closed my eyes as her head began to move and I felt her suck and bite on my, most entertained, cock. “Let me know when you want the clamp off and I will quickly remove it for you to ease the pain”.  Her left hand had found its way between my legs and was holding my left thigh, gently pulling me towards her in time with her head movements. Her right hand she lifted and laid, palm up, on her back, I thought, so I had easy access to the remaining clamp.  After a very pleasing minute or two she took her mouth off me and said ‘now’ and returned to my ‘reward’. Reaching over I pressed in the clamp and pulled it off dropping them to the floor. I heard, and felt on my prick, her squeal as she sucked harder on me taking my prick to the back of her throat, her left hand pulling me in and holding me there though her right hand did not leave her back.  Her squeal became a mauling sound as her body began to shiver and only after about 30 seconds did her right hand finally move and I saw her massaging her right breast. I may be a Dom and a sadist but this sight, with this ‘attention, was too much (I am a male after all) so I pulled myself from her mouth and looked at the ceiling for a few seconds. This only just did its purpose as once my prick was out of her mouth the sounds she then made, as her orgasm came and diminished, could have deflowered a priest.  Fighting an almost overpowering desire to put my prick back in to her, anywhere in her, I finally put it back in my trousers and pulled up my zip – will power, such a pain in the arse at times.  I went to my bag and found my leg spreader, a 10mm bar of mild steel I had fashioned a few years before in the heat of a furnace - not unlike the forging of a new submissive I thought to myself. I found myself kneeling at her feet again as I replaced her ankle restraints and then secured these to the spreader bar, forcing her legs 30 inches apart. I made the mistake of looking up, and the sight of her open and inviting cunt almost made me change my mind about where I had put my prick.  There is a metal securing bolt at the top of the plank of wood so moving to stand by her head I took her hands and tied them to it so she was stretched along the wood’s length.  “The toys from now on will be much more intense?” I said. “I will use each for a minute or so but with each change they will get a little harsher. You already have pretty marks on your skin but these toys will leave better ones that will last for a few days, shall I begin?”  “Yes, My Demon.” she whispered and I saw her grip the ropes that tied her hands.  I take a red and black leather flog with twin, 8 inch, tails and began it strike her back, moving around her, watching her muscles twitch as the stinging leather hit, from neck to arse, leaving growing welts on her skin.  I hit with a constant strength as I moved from her left side to her right and back again until I was back at my starting position where I took a step closer to her and, reaching, sent the tails around her ribs to contact with her softly hanging breast. Her back arched and she screamed in a short feral explosion.  I dropped the flogger and, as she clenched her teeth, grabbed the hurt breast and squeezed it in my fist, “If you are expecting one thing the unexpected is so much better.” I said changing my hold on her flesh and rolling the nipple between thumb and finger.  I saw a tear appear under her blindfold so asked, “Do I continue, you remember the word to end this?”  I could see her think and then she said, “I remember but I don’t know, I think, I think I want to say stop.”  “ok, I will continue with a different sensation, use the word when you know you are sure about ending things.”  I untied her hands, along with one end of the spreader bar then said, helping her stand up, “I just need you to turn around and lay back on the wood.”  She was a little shaky as she stood so putting my arm around her I held her tight. As I did this her head lifted up so I kissed her and was pleasantly surprised as her tongue forced its way into my mouth. The kiss continued and my hand found its way between her legs and a single finger entered her gently slipping in and out as she lifted her left leg to give me easier excess.  “Enough.” I said removing my finger and mouth from her body, I helped her back onto the sloping wood and again tied her hands high above her head, to the securing bolt, I then secured the spreader bar between the ankle restraints under the wood. The bar has a loop at midpoint and to this I tied a length of rope, the other end I tied to the flogging wall, pulling her feet back under her arse and lifting her cunt high as her hips where pulled wide due to the width of the plank.  I sat on the chair I had used earlier and took off my boots and then trousers. I found a condom and with a little concentration, put it on then selected a horse crop, which had two short leather tails about 2 inches long, and moved to stand at the foot of the wood plank.  With small, sharp movements of my wrist I sent the tails across her nipples, first one then the other, hitting 10 or 12 times in a staccato rhythm then changing the target to hit once between her legs, on soft pink lips which stood, unexpectantly, open. I repeated this 3 or 4 times until I judged I had risked enough and she had had enough.  I moved to stand by her side and, while I stroked her body from nipple to inner thigh, I whispered in her ear, “Some do not think fucking is part of BDSM so I shall ask if you wished to be fucked before I do it as part of this experience.”  “Yes, Sir,” She said with a small smile. “or, Yes Please if you prefer.”  I untied her hands and she let her arms hang down at her side as I lifted my right leg over the plank so my prick was an inch or two from her and said, “Do not be cheeky, little one, you are still tied and just because I will be fucking you does not mean it will be the only sensation you will have  I inched forward and, pushing down on the end of my prick I slowly move inside her and like a good girl she pushed herself deeper onto me. I stood still, prick buried in warmth, and using the crop’s leather tails drew sensual trails across her skin from nipple to nipple to navel to clit and back again. Within a minute she raised her hands and held them again my hips as she began to move on my prick, drawing herself off and then pushing down to rub her clit against my groin as I stood immobile, her breathing began to get faster and, as her nails began to dig in, I saw the growing need she had for me to move inside her. Realising the moment had arrived I rested the crop across her belly and, putting a hand on each of her breasts, leaned down to kiss her ear.  My full weight was pressing down on her, crushing nipples against ribs through the flesh of her breasts. I thrust into her, my movement, adding more pressure and pain, caused her to groan loudly, “I will fuck you for as long as you stand the pain.” I whispered and, pushing myself up on to straight arms, continued to fuck her going as deep and fast as her mirrowing movements allowed.  My breathing was becoming fast as she placed her hands over mine and I saw her dig her nails deep into the soft flesh of her breasts between my fingers, ‘that is unexpected’ I thought to myself and took my left hand away to see what she would do.  Her hands squeezed and twisted her flesh, raking her nails across her erect nipple leaving lines as red as those I had given from my flogging.  “Harder.” A single word, she said, between gasping breathes as she reached for my left hand.  Making my hands into fists I pressed my knuckles into her breasts as her hands returned to my hips.  I fucked and forced my weight onto her as a building pain built in my hips under her hands, looking down I saw a bright red drop of blood on my skin, red lines, from this dear girl’s nails, mirroring her own marks; a small price to pay  I did not think I would be able to make her cum, or decide to stop this pain, before I came but suddenly her head thrashed from side to side and the raking of my skin stopped. She made no sound, did not breathe as her fingers spread wide and muscles moved in slow waves under the tight skin of her stomach.  I came a second later and, fighting the mix of pain and pleasure in the tip of my prick, continued to thrust into her until her movements calmed down.  A second’s pause, heart pounding, breathing trying to fill my lungs, vision clearing from an unnoticed unfocused gaze, I stand and let my prick die a little inside her.  I grasped the wood plank on either side of her neck and, leaning down, kiss her lightly on the lips. I gently removed the blindfold and threw it onto the floor.  Her eyes remain closed as I pushed myself up to stand looking down at her – fuck she was beautiful.  Her eyes opened slightly, they shine, a small smile comes to her lips and letting her arms fall to her side she closes her eyes again as the smile grows bigger.  Sadly, oh so very sadly, I pull myself out of her and stepping over the wooden plank sit down on the chair because my legs are shaking in a most entertaining fashion.  We stayed like that for about 5 minutes, her smiles, fading then bursting out bigger than before as the minutes pass.  I pulled on my trousers, discarding the condom into a bin, but remained barefooted as I moved to her shackled feet. I knelt down - I seemed to always be on my knees in front of her – and unbuckled the nearest restraint. Reaching under the plank I finally managed to unbuckle the other and, as if by magic, found myself within reach of her glistening cunt.  Like the nice Dom I am I lowered my head and, after one long, slow lick, bit gently into her soft pick lips, she tasted sweet, naturally and with a hint of strawberry from my used condom.  After a few seconds I stood going to her side to help her stand but as I got close she reached out and put the fingers of her left hand in to my unzipped trousers. I stopped and she pulled out my prick and, with a gentle tug, she led me back to her mouth, slow and gentle this time she held me with soft licks and sucks.  With eyes closed, her right hand moved slowly to go between her legs, with slow strokes, she put two fingers inside her.  I am old, but luckily not that old, for as I watched and felt her actions my prick came back to life. I took in what she was doing and let myself react as my body wished with no attempt at self control.  With a full prick in her mouth her fingers moved faster and, again, erotic moans began to come from her mouth vibrating on my shaft.  “I am going to cum.” I said giving her time to withdraw her mouth, if she wished, but she sucked as before and her fingers gained speed and strength adding wet sounds to my already stimulated senses.  I had to grab, with equal strength and need, the plank for balance and her hair to pull her on to me as I came in four strong spasms. She sucked, swallowed and bit as I came and I could not stop a cry cascade from my lips which went, something like, ”fffuuucckkkking jeeeeeeesus fucking Christ” as I tried to pierce the back of her skull with my softening prick.  As I died again, this time in her mouth, she gently sucked and licked until after a minute or so she took her mouth away, looked up at me and said with a smile, “Hello, Demon, my name’s Amy.”  The End - i think?

You do not restrain a girl when she is to be punished. Restraints are a learning and teaching aid, or part of simply revelling in who and what you are together. A girl who is to be punished lacks discipline, she lacks a sense of her place and purpose. Part of punishment is making her understand that the only way to get through punishment is forebearance, strength and devotion, both to you as her owner and herself as a slave. Restraining her removes the need for her to endure and to control her responses. I usually discipline with a cane, and usually a thin, flexible one rather than a thicker, heavier type. In my experience, girls tend to prefer thuddy canes as the pain is much deeper and more rounded. Thin cane strikes are sharp and immediately, eye-wateringly painful. And yes, I have been caned and caned well - I know what I talk about. You can become lost in the heavy impacts of a stout cane, overwhelmed and rendered mentally helpless. The pain just swamps you. The bright, cutting pain of a thin cane constantly assaults your sense, but never enough that you are mentally able to travel elsewhere. Those impacts always, always drag you right back to the here and now. My routine is to bend a girl over the end of the bed or a desk (not a chair - too liable to tip), and tell her the number of strokes she will endure (usually 10), that she will count them from 1 to 10 as they are delivered and that she will not be restrained at all. Hands planted on the top of whatever she is bent over, feet planted and about a metre apart. There are two rules. The first is that she will not move, speak or cry out. If she does, the count starts over and the leniency with which I apply that rule is at my discretion and dependant on what she is being punished for. The second rule is that we will not stop until all 10 strokes land according to the first rule. If the rear becomes too welted, then there are the front and backs of her thighs, her breasts, the soles of her feet and several other places.  She will take her 10 and she will do so with resolve, commitment and determination. She will do so with discipline. And once punishment is delivered, the sin is forgotten. It is not referred to again, it is not held over her and is not used as some kind of fucked up supporting evidence of a future transgression. It is done. The girl is cleansed and I tend to her. I bathe her from top to toe, slowly and with care, I ease her pain best I can and, if the situation permits, I reward her with pleasure. At the very least, she sleeps in my arms and when she awakes, it is a brand new day for us both.  

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

Induction or Trial Period  After inspection there may be a trial period.  This is a time when the prospective slave property experiences what being My property entails. That is slave may leave at any time up until commitment.  This trial period lasts until either Master or it decide to leave off or slave commits to becoming My chattel.  In terms of time, the induction may last one day or up to 6 months.  As stated above, at any time during the trial period either may terminate the process.  During this time slave may exercise choice.  While after commitment, slave looses any opportunity for choice except as the Master may allow. I have been asked to clarify induction.  Please excuse the redundancy. During the period of induction, aka trial, slave may leave at any time.  Or, Master may dismiss it any time.  There are no conditions for termination of trial; no reason is needed. If during that trial period if both agree slave may become total chattel property of Mine.   Notice, choice is available to slave up until both agree differently.  

Quite often, I see profiles that list Weight as " 80 lbs" or "60 lbs" when they clearly mean kilograms. So either 1) They are correctly entering 60 kg but it's displaying as "60 lbs" anyway, a software error 2) Or really that huge a number of people keep making the same mistake and don't bother to select Kg when they mean it. Or a mixture of these two. Either way, sad, and ideally something that would be fixed (software) and/or improved (care in selecting) However, while I won't remember how this website was 8 yeras ago, I'm not sure I recall ever, in recent memory any "kg" weight from anyone, even in the UK. So the "kg" isn't displaying when it should, it seems. So someone picks "60 kg" and the rest of us see "60 lbs" or at least we do if we use lbs ourselves. That's not how things should work... But how lovely they fixed the Journals so we can share thoughts like the above! ;-)  

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

100% Dominant 90% Sadist84% Rigger82% Master/Mistress80% Daddy/Mommy75% Degrader64% Non-monogamist60% Owner39% Experimentalist32% Vanilla29% Primal (Hunter)28% Brat tamer3% Voyeur

Absolutely no idea where this came from but it resonates so profoundly!   The Equalitarian Dom: Is one who controls by teaching, mentoring, and leading. This Dominant knows that when he finds a comparable submissive that things will happen as a natural progression of the interaction. Usually just a short learning phase is required to receive the correct response from the submissive. Both the Dom and the sub “get it”, there is very little need for so called “training” and they naturally know what the other needs and seeks. The Dominant does not like the situation of constantly repeating and forcing a particular behavior (submission) to occur. Besides the activities (sexual and others) it is the surrender as a result of the Domination that is the drive and enjoyment. Creativity is an important part of this situation.  They tend to intellectualize and be more into the philosophical and psychological mechanisms of this life style. They understand the concepts and resultant interactions and can put it into real life. They do not need many rules like the Democratic type, nor do they like the heavy S&M activities of the Authoritarian, preferring submission to occur as a result of an instilled desire in the submissive to surrender. She “wants” to submit as a result of the Dominant’s knowledge and skill in dominating her, as well as in life. Sensuousness is the rule. Pain is given and received as a form of sensuous stimulation. Light pain as opposed to severe. Sensuous torture is a popular activity in this area. Both the Dominant and the submissive must naturally be this way. These are the people who will claim to be “born that way”. They fully understand the concept of D/s, it comes to them naturally and easily. They attract a submissive that truly and naturally desires to please and who will observe and sense what it is that the Dominant is communicating;  and be able to translate that into the right thing to do. The “doing or saying without having to be told” type. The submissive begs easily and surrenders sweetly. They understand the concept of respect and surrender and can make it happen after initial learning with little or no additional instructions. They embrace the surrender gratefully and lovingly. These individuals usually form very intimate relationships. There is not much downside to these relationships, because they not only grasp the concepts, but can make it happen as well, and their attraction is based on a strong mutual respect.  Their strong relationship is not readily apparent to the unobservant, but they are always subtly in the 24/7 mode. The fact that these things come forth naturally and without the need for orders is a great source of pride, satisfaction, and loving. They are the opposite side of the coin from the Authoritarian. Whose pride, satisfaction, and love come from strictness and forbearance.  

Slave's Supplications or devotions Slave's Supplications or devotions: I beg you to use me for your pleasure. I desire nothing more than to be an that you can use for your enjoyment at any time. I beg You to allow me to please you. I beg to be made to live to worship you. Make me give you thanks when you honor me with punishment at your hand. My real punishment is having failed, and having disappointed you I would not deserve your attention. My body and mind are your property, now and until you may decide you have no further use for me. I beg you to make me feel your ownership of me everyday. Please, make me feel Your power over me, and Your total control of my life. I submit willingly to your power and domination. Please, make me feel my submission and your control throughout my day. I want to obey, serve and please you. Please allow me the privilege of calling you Master. I realize my sexuality and my orgasms are now your property, allowed to me as a special gift. I beg you to punish me severely if I ever have an orgasm without permission. I choose willingly to be treated as your property. I beg you to own me utterly and completely. I beg you to make me behave, and be a good boy/girl. Please allow me the privilege of your discipline when I misbehave. I beg you to control my clit/cock. When I may touch it, when it may be excited and when it may come. I know my cock/clit now belongs to you. I beg to be your property. Please help me become your greatest treasure. Living in Your Grace, my Master my God.

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  

The Lighthouse Within: Illuminating Love and Power in Dynamic Union I never knew a lo-, lo-, lo-, love like this Gotta be special for me to write this i tweaked this song with a higher pitch and a faster beat to really get into a deeper and more fulfilling emotional space than the song was. however, i am moving most of my platforms to something more professional ish and don't want to deal with the copyright. just know if you pitch it up and move it to a faster speed it's a different experience that is. beyonce's voice sounds more childish, impish, and little girl ish. a emotional and mental state i can resonate with more fully as an adult and little girl. the jayz voice sounds more of a stronger timber and more of a high hit on the drum sound....something more direct and focused and intentional and intense. the sounds in the background that are celebratory sound grander. the piano sounds angelic and full of joy, uplifting, something literally awesome. awe·some /ˈôsəm/ adjective extremely impressive or daunting; inspiring great admiration, apprehension, or fear. something other wordly, something in the clouds, something more expansive than earth ever can be. Uh, uh, uh This (uh, uh) is (uh, uh), ouu! Cash, hit deposit, 24-carat faucets Louis V and Goyard trunks all in the closet Ain't shit change, the streets is still watching And my little baby Blue is like, "Who gon' stop us, huh?" Ain't no way to stop this love, ain't no space if everything is love Representing for my hustlers all across the world (still) Still dippin' in my low-lows, girl! (still) I put it down for the 713 and we still got love for the streets (ow!) We played it cool at the pool of the Cancun, VMA Confidence you exude make the fools stay away Me, I played the room, let the fools have they say Fate had me sitting next to you on the plane And I knew straight away, uh The next time we would speak was like two years away You had a man, you shut it down until you two had a break I bet that dude rued the day You kept me up on the phone while you were away You came back, I let you set the date, Nobu on the plate I brought my dude to play it cool, my first foolish mistake Cash, hit deposit, 24-carat faucets Louis V and Goyard trunks all in the closet Ain't shit change, the streets is still watching And my little baby Blue is like "Who gon' stop us, huh?" Ain't no way to stop this love, ain't no space if everything is love I'm representing for my hustlers all across the world (still) Still dippin' in my low-lows, girl! (still), I put it down for the 713 And we still got love for the streets (ow!) I never knew a lo-, lo-, lo-, love like this Gotta be special for me to write this Queen, I ain't mean no disrespect But the way I network, it's hard for me to connect My first time in the ocean went exactly as you'd expect Meanwhile, you going hard, jumping off the top deck A leap of faith, I knew I was up next I never told you, but I told a few people we wed Me, I'm off to Rome, you going back home instead My first time in my life a live nigga felt dead You came back, I had to act like it was cool in my head Thoughts of jumping the broom, a player never been swept Cash, hit deposit, 24-carat faucets Louis V and Goyard trunks all in the closet Ain't shit change, the streets is still watching And my little baby Blue is like "Who gon' stop us, huh?" I'm representing for my hustlers all across the world (still) Still dippin' in my low-lows, girl! (still), I put it down for the 713 And we still got love for the streets (ow!) To all the good girls that love hustlers To the mothers that put up with us To all the babies that suffered cause us We only know love because of ya this song talks about still being from where you are from. the 713. this song doesn't need to be decoded as deep as others. it's a tale of two bodacious bombastic people. i see it in the daddy dominant and little girl personality and identities. strong, powerful, like greek gods in sculptures running the world. pushing the line between safe and da

In the last days, God says, I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your young men will see visions, your old men will dream dreams. (Acts 2:17). These things will be accurate to what has already been written in scripture and we should defend these things in the faith and know that new beginnings are coming soon. Jesus's homecoming is not a pretty thing. It is a destructive force cleaning the earth of wickedness to bring about real harmony and righteous alignments within many aspaspects of things. The revelations people are receiving are warning us of what's to come. Some things need to be deciphered for their meaning but there is a meaning and still other things and visions and prophesy are what they are. Everything is tied into the spiritual because the spirit realm is real. God is real. Jesus is real. The adversary is real. The Bible is the truth and the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.(Hebrews 4:12) Get out of worldly pursuits and instead seek God's kingdom first. The rewards we reap in the afterlife come from the faith and works we did while alive. Maintain good works. Faith without works is dead and work without faith is also dead. Do not live this life chasing something that won't last. Jesus is the King and authority seated on high on a throne. The Bible clearly communicates behaviors and conversations that are right or wrong. Jesus is not expecting overnight perfection or overnight healing. Things take time he knows this. He just wants you to learn the truth and build yourself up according to the word. The inward person matters more than you may think. It is not always easy building and healing but if you call on Jesus he will not forsake you. He will hear you. He will complete the work he has started in you. He wishes for all to come to repentance and be saved. Do NOT take the mark of the beast when it comes. Please come join Jesus at his thousand year reign. Keep your faith in God and Jesus. Please don't cast it away. 

In the tapestry of relationships, polyamory stands out as a distinct weave, one that has graced my life in unexpected ways. Today, I sit back to reflect on my experiences in MfM and fMf dynamics and the deeply transformative impact they have had on me.   Poly relationships, particularly those involving MfM or fMf dynamics, are not merely about the number of partners but the depth of connection, understanding, and mutual respect. I've always felt a special allure towards such relationships. It's an intricate dance of balance, emotion, and trust.   James, my late husband, played an instrumental role in my introduction to this world. He wasn't just my husband; he was a guiding force, teaching me the beauty of unconditional love, free from societal shackles. The way he introduced me to the world of BDSM, and by extension, poly dynamics, was subtle, considerate, and built on a foundation of trust. It wasn't about sharing for sharing's sake, but about expanding our horizons, about understanding that love isn't finite, and that sharing doesn't diminish but rather amplifies affection.   I remember our first experience. The trust between James and me was the anchor, holding us steady amidst the tumultuous waves of uncertainty. He would often whisper affirmations in my ear, reminding me of my worth, my beauty, and my agency. "You are in control," he would say, even when introducing me to a new partner. This wasn't about him, or even about the new partner; it was about *us*, as a unit, exploring, learning, and growing.   In an fMf dynamic, there was a certain softness, a delicate touch. The presence of another woman introduced a different layer of intimacy. It was in these moments that I found a sisterly bond, a deep understanding, which went beyond the realms of physicality. On the other hand, the MfM dynamic provided a sense of security, of being cherished, surrounded by an aura of protection from both sides.   But why do I like it? It's the feeling of expansiveness, the sensation that my heart isn't confined to a singular beat but reverberates with multiple rhythms. James ensured that I never felt ified. It wasn't about mere physicality but an exploration of emotions, boundaries, and profound connections. The journey made me more comfortable in my skin, understanding and accepting my desires, and seeing them not as taboo but as natural extensions of my persona.   James always reminded me of my worth. His unwavering support ensured I never felt "less than" or "used." Each experience was a shared one, a journey that we undertook together. There were moments of doubt, of course, moments where societal conditioning would seep in, whispering words of judgment. But with James by my side, those whispers were quickly silenced. His belief in the beauty and authenticity of our choices bolstered my confidence.   In the end, poly dynamics taught me the multifaceted nature of love. They made me realize that love isn't a zero-sum game. One can love multiple people, in varied ways, without diminishing the love for any single individual. It's about expansion, about realizing the boundless capacity of the human heart.   In these relationships, I've learned more about myself than I ever imagined. They taught me resilience, understanding, and most importantly, self-acceptance. Through the layers of shared experiences, laughter, tears, and deep conversations, I found a version of myself that's unapologetic, bold, and incredibly comfortable in her skin.  

Maintenance Beating There has been an on going discussion about maintenance beating.  Generally, I adhere to the idea of that in order to keep the slave's mind right. Of course, regular maintenance beatings are seperate and apart from punishements that may have been earned by the slave. Certainly, when intially entering My service daily maintenance beatings are necessary to promote acculturation.  Service to Me requires a greatly reduced ego in the slave.  That energy that was once selfe centered in the slave must be redirected to My benefit. Thing is, the slave that I desire wants exactly the same thing.  However, not infrequently its social adjustments have included messages about itself that contradict its inborn nature and it lives in conflict.  To the degree that conflict is resolved to that degree it finds peace and fullfilment. There is the issue of pain sluts.  These masochists crave punishment.  With this type I do have alternate means of ego right sizing. On an ongoing basis maintenance beatings will most likely be the rule in My house.  The frequency and intensity of the beating will be tailored to My desires, not the slaves.

About to lose control, he sighed in the affirmative when she asked if he needed to use the toilet.   His ankles were unclipped. One wrist was detached from his belt. Sheepishly he allowed himself to be guided to a powder room through the next door.   Completing his business, much relived, he emerged from the room.  He noticed a walk in closet transformed into a cell with a bed and chair. There, hung over the back of the chair were his clothes. It was late, she was no longer amused. Keys were thrust into his free hand. “get dressed Mr. Gimp!”   It was then he realized they had never exchanged names. He wasn’t even sure of the address. Sitting on the bed fully dressed with the keys and restraints on the chair, she took off the hood. A taxi was waiting outside to return him to the Hotel bar.   Her voluptuousness pressed against his face, she pulled him to his feet and kissed him passionately full on his trembling lips. “ Be gone Mr. Gimp!” She patted his butt and pushed him out the door to the waiting taxi. The driver was well paid for his discretion.

Master's WritingsSadomasochistic Play and the Importance of ConnectionIt is too easy when participating in Sadomasochistic play of any kind, be it impact, pain play or any other of the associated fetishes, for the experience to become emotionally and even physically disconnected between partners - the Sadist becoming consumed by their connection to their tool (whip, cane, etc), the precision of their strikes, the technique used, and the masochist becoming lost in the enormity of the sensation, the loss of physical control as the pain increases and the anticipation of the next strike. As both become lost in their own world within the scene, it is easy to experience a loss of connection between them as the scene progresses.I find that maintaining or even working to build greater connection during such play is one of the most important things I can do as a Sadist and a Dominant. For me as a Sadist, who is also a Dominant and a Daddy, I find that there exists a uniquely rich opportunity to be a caring and connected Sadist, through physical contact, the use of voice and deliberate and careful observation that goes beyond the safety aspaspaspects during a scene are very important in changing a sadomasochistic scene from something done to the masochist to a shared experience that binds rather than separates.In all my play, regardless of the fetish, I seek to create experiences that enrich, nourish and build relationship. While not every scene or situation can accomplish these every time, they remain a goal I strive for whenever possible.

!IMPORTANT CLARIFICATION I'm looking for someone initially to come in as a cleaner / domestic drudge for a few hours either weekly or fortnightly and then go away again. I have no intention of putting anyone up overnight, nor am I initially looking for any more than stated above although whoever is chosen will be subjected to strict oversight by myself and be suitably punished should they not perform to the required standard. With that in mind, you MUST be based in South East UK, either in Kent or able to asily get to mid Kent from where you live, so SE London, Essex, Surrey or Kent itself. I would have amended my profile to reflect this but as that then means my profile disappears for up to a week I've been compelled to add it here. Goddess Abyssia

Something that might be useful to consider - When you write someone, especially a femme presenting person on here who is probably drowning in crap emails,  and you say any variation of "love your profile" or "I read your profile" - we can look at Who's Viewing Me? with just a simple click of the mouse, to SEE if you actually read that profile. If your name isn't there, then we know without any further effort that you are  1) a liar who will say whatever they think will get their dick wet and 2) lazy. You couldn't even put in the 3 to 5 minute effort to read and find out who we are before lying. Add in that most of us put something in the profile to sort out the time wasters, like a code word or request. That way we can see at a glance, often without even opening the email and just hovering our mouse over it, if the email has that code word or request honored. Which means only people (guys) that actually make that effort will get read or responded to. Because I can tell you after nearly 20 years on this site that the guys who don't read your profile NEVER show up. At all. They almost to a man write minimal responses to any reply they get, always about what they want done to them, and they are usualy just wanting free phone sex at most. They are a waste of time and effort, because they aren't here for actual BDSM or any variation thereof. No one wants to cater to that. Which is why we usually just delete the email without reading further.  If you actually DO want to find a BDSM partner, you need to make that effort, READ that full profile, and figure out if the person behind that pretty picture is actualy compatible with your interests, then write a REAL email to that human being much like if you walked up to them on the street, mentioning whatever code words or requests are in it, and what it was that you offer that they are wanting.  I know its slow and frustrating and a lot of work, but the alternative is being the spammer that everyone deletes automatically.

The Reward i am kneeling before Goddess's throne, with my back straight, my shoulders back, and my head bowed, as posture protocol requires. Leather cuffs on my ankles and my thighs are connected by a short length of chain, such that i cannot lift myself up at all. A plug is in my ass, but it is not a large one. It stretches me only gently. My cock and balls are tightly bound with a long shoestring, which wraps around them in many devious ways. It bites deeply into the most sensitive parts of my body, which throb with arousal and distress. i am engorged but cannot sustain a full erection, and the parts of me which throb are a deep purple, or at least, they feel that way. She was quite flirtatious as She bound me so. She caressed me in all manners of ways. She bit and pinched me tenderly, playfully. She pressed the most tantalizing parts of Her beautiful body against mine. She calls me a good boy, and a sweet boy, and a lovely little slut. She says i've been a wonderful little plaything recently, and thinks it might be time for me to get a very special reward. She asks me if i think i deserve a reward. i reply that i hope so. How sweet, She says, and kisses me on the forehead. Next i feel a clamp attached to one of my balls, and then one just below the head of my cock. The clinking i hear makes clear that they are connected by a chain. Then the other side of my manhood is similarly adorned. I feel a different type of clamp attached to each my balls below the first pair. Then She is putting clothespins in every place on my cock and balls where there is a welcoming patch of skin. They bite deeply into my already anguished skin. i moan gently when the first clothespin is attached, and a bit more urgently as the numbers grow. i attempted to count them, but my concentration falters at 20. i feel tugging on the clamps, and hear more clinking of the chains. She orders me to arch my back and slump my shoulders down and forward. i feel a sharp upward tug on the clamps already on me, and then the sting of clamps on my nipples. She has looped the chains connecting the clamps on my nipples beneath the other chains, such that all the clamps are being tugged by the others, but the tension is not great. i am in significant pain, but i have withstood much worse. i long to do so now. i will adore Her for it. She kisses me on the forehead and sits on Her throne, and then Her stockinged feet are caressing my thighs. She pets my head as She again calls me a swe

Picture it Feb 14, 20?? (to protect the innocent). A friend of mine was getting married. I always had a little crush on his girlfriend but I would never do anything to jeopardize their relationship. Little did I know that she felt the same way about me, and I was about to find out. The day before of the wedding she called me up and asked if I could help her with a few things.She gave me the address and told me to stop by. When she opened the door she was wearing a robe and holding two wine glasses. She invited me in and we sat on the couch. We started talking about tomorrow's events and she said her feet were killing her from practicing walking around in the high heel shoes. She asked me if I could give her a foot massage. I rubbed her feet and I could tell she was really getting into it. She was at the nail salon earlier and didn't want to chip a nail and asked me if I could help her at a shower. So we went into the bathroom and she took off her robe. Now up to this point we only gave each other hello or goodbye hugs, and now she is standing in front of me naked. I am trying not to stare but she is in great shape. She told me to get undressed and into the shower with her. I washed & conditioned her hair, washed her body, shaved her airpits, legs, and pussy too. She asked me why I never made a move on her and I told her I didn't think she was interested in me. She said that's too bad, after tonight it is going to be to late and I will never have this chance again. We kissed a litttle, I got her dried off and into bed and I went home. I saw her the next day at the wedding and she was beautiful. The wedding went on with no problems and as far as I know, my friend has no dea how she spent her last night as a single woman.

Profile needs an update.   Before I delve into the kinks that arouse me, let me first say that the primary thing I am seeking is a FLR of the highest degree. I am quit sensitive to people's moods, while not always aware of what may be the underlying causes.  This has been torture for me. I find that much of this arises out of the struggle between two people to have their needs and wants met by the other.  As such I would much prefer a relationship with a woman who can assume the responsibilities of a total power exchange.  Someone who will provide a Ds structure that is safe and productive.  Someone who is quick to punish and forgive to fulfill her needs and wants.  I feel this eliminates the wasted time on energy spent on fighting.   I am happiest when she is pleased.  I also tend to become uncomfortable when there is a dynamic of reciprocation or tit for tat.  It seems to place a responsibility upon me that I do not want.  As such I am not seeking fairness.  That is not to say that I do not appreciate attention when she is so inspired.   As far as kink is concerned there are a few things that I think I couldn't live without.  Regular and frequent spankings is one.   Orgasm iniquity is another kink that is the source of every fantasy I get off to when I masturbate, which is a strange dissonance.  But I have not been able to shake it for decades and it just becomes more prominent.  Many of my fantasies related to chastity drift into areas that are profoundly frightening to me.  As such I would greatly appreciate an accepting Domme who may exploit those fantasies, but do so in lets say a more maternal and understanding way.  Although not explicity a femdom relationship, I had a girlfriend in my 20s, where it was understood that when we were intimate I could focus solely on her orgasm without concern for my own.  In retrospect it helped to alieve performance anxiety.  However, I would still masturbate in private, which I have found comes with a subby refactory period.  It can be as short as a half hour or as long as a day.  This refactory period would be an issue in a power exchange relationship.  For pragmatic reasons my orgasms should be, at a minimum, completely directed by my owner.  It is a deep desire of mine to be my Ma'ams desperate and constantly horny slutty boy toy, used at whim.  As such I am still working up to the acceptance that a day may come when I may never be allowed another pleasurable orgasm.  With all that said I have yet to find a decent chastity device that would be suitable for long term wear, especially unsupervised.  Part of this may be a psychological block.  It just doesn't feel right to start a journey exploring chastity without a directrix who is taking it with me.  There are several firsts in there that cannot be experienced a second time.  The measuring, fitting, and selection should be a ritual that bonds, in my opinion.  It is also likely that I am too much of a grower not a shower that while they are difficult to get on, they end up slipping off.   The best solution I have found for this is a Prince Albert piercing.  But that again is an event that can only be experiened once.      Other than that you may wish to know that I am a competent handman and computer expert with a master degree in mechanical and aerospace engineering.  I can follow a recipe and enjoy providing domestic service and pampering.   I am presently seeking a remote work position, that would make it easier to travel and relocate.

Small Mercies, Longer Days ? It has been one of those stretches where the days stack up against you before you have had a chance to argue with the first one. Nothing catastrophic, nothing worth dramatizing, just the particular grind of too much friction in too many directions at once, the kind of week that does not make good copy but costs you something anyway. A significant loss in the family that required me to help plan funerary rites, and restructuring at work that threatens my position.?I have been moving through it the way I move through everything: upright, standard intact, but aware of the weight. Nothing breaks my stride, only I break things that deserve to be remade, but nothing in these uncertain times holds significant comfort for me (currently).? ? What has saved me, genuinely, is the weather.? ? Spring arrived this week with the specific conviction of something that has been waiting a long time to make its point, and I have been stepping outside just to feel it, that clean particular warmth that does not yet carry the heaviness of summer, where the air still has a crispness underneath the heat and everything green looks almost aggressive in its newness. There is something about spring light in the late afternoon that I find quietly restorative in a way I cannot fully articulate. It simply helps. I will take it. The cherry blossoms at the Field Museum are in bloom, and it's an easy walk. Lake Michigan has also been a close held companion, and was still as glass on Thursday. You could scry on her water like a mirror, and the light filtered through the overcast sky as if fingers were reaching out to dip themselves. It felt greedy to take her in, but I am nothing if not hedonistic.? ? And then there was Artemis, splashing down with the kind of elegant finality that makes you remember the world is still capable of extraordinary things on the days it feels most ordinary. Something about watching that capsule meet the water, the culmination of that much human effort and precision and audacity, pulled me briefly out of my own difficult week and into something larger. I needed that more than I expected to. ? The bad days will pass. They always do. I remain steadfast. Someone recently appraised me when I talked about my resiliency : "As the stars stay lighting the sky".? ? For those of you following the story of the weight of three minutes, the continuation posts tomorrow evening. Come back rested.

She knew she looked good. The men at the bar thought so too! Who would it be?   She picked up her hand bag and slowly made her way to the ladies room.     She admired her mirror image. She freshened her perfume and lipstick. Tugged her skirt into place. Washed her hands.   Her heels clicked on the tiled floor. Heads turned. Letting her leather jacket fall open she leaned forward at the bar. Her full figure bottom was attractive under the skirt. Accentuated and flared by her corset. Bar napkins in one hand,  bowl of mixed nuts in the other, she clicked back to her seat on the couch.   She leaned back in her seat. Closed her eyes. Smiling to her self, she dangled her shoe. The music filled her breasts. They heaved in their confinement. Opening her eyes, a very young and very handsome man in a black suit had slid from the bar and hovered at her table, two drinks in hand.

I genuinely love my boyfriend. I have loved a good number of people but this is the first time I've dated anyone for longer than two weeks who has not been argumentative, selfish, mean, and committed to never understanding me. And more often than not we communicate very well. We have argued twice in almost a year. He is kind and gentle with me. He is thoughtful and generous. He makes me feel calm and at peace. He doesn't behave as if he is irritated with me when I am anxious, depressed, or having panic attacks. He grounds me. He is all of the things I've wanted from all the serious partners I've had in the past.    He has never ever hurt me (except once when he asked me to go home and I took it personally lol).   Absolutely zero of my relationships have ever been this good, the worst being my marriage. I can say I am absolutely happy when I am with him which is what pushed me to want to be happy when I am without him. I had never thought it possible for me to be happy, alone or with another person since I had never been happy in a relationship before. I felt good and would call it happiness but I wasn't happy. Now that happiness is possible I must learn to find it inside of myself which is difficult when you've been miserable for 31 years    So this is what it means to find your person.  He is like starlight, like the laughter of babies, like the colors of the sunrise and the sunset, like the buds in spring, like a glass of refreshing cool water, like a warm hug. He is love. He is safety. Something I never thought I'd ever have. Something I've never seen anyone have in person. Something I didn't expect from what was supposed to be a tinder one night stand.    A one night stand that ended up with us being intertwined so intimately that we are now inseparable.