Psst... It's secret time. Pinky swear you won't go and tell? I'm trusting you since we're journal friends. I follow two journals: 1. A delightful crotchety and humorous dominant man who shares brief opinions from time to time. He's clever and funny and doesn't really care what you think. I dig it.   2. An eloquent dominant female who shares song lyrics, poetry, and conversations over tea. She elevates this place. I would love to go into a used book shop with her.  Okay, here's the secret part where it gets a little weird. I do not follow but I look for two other journals. The first is a dominant male who I am pretty sure is certifiably mad. I won't officially follow him to ensure I stay off of his radar as a precaution- sacrificial lamb is not my kink. But you better believe I scroll the journals to catch any new entries.* The other is a dominant male who often posts. I think he is some sort of AI. Hear me out. All of the sentiments match to the point of being repetitive. With poor grammar. It's like riding a hamster wheel. Someone requested it, AI produced it, it was slapped in a journal, and there's a psychologist teaming with a scientist in the background monitoring to see who falls for it. I can't picture someone producing the same phrases over and over. Even the mad hatter doesn't do that. Has to be a bot.  No, I won't tell you who they are, don't ask. If you know, you know. And if you're the psychologist and scientist letting me know that I figured it out, do put a rush on that.  *My crotchety friend is also fascinated with the mad hatter's entries. I knew he was good people. 

  Instructions  You are instructed to answer your door wearing your shortest skirt and no under pants.  You can choose either a pushup bra or Bustier.  You need to find the best way to provide good access to your erect nipples.  High heels will be in order and a nice bright red lipstick.  Your fragrance should suggest you need serious examination.  Once inside we will continue with your assessment.  We need to determine what type of spanking suits you.  Your level of grooming will need attention.  You may have hair in places that needs to be removed or trimmed.  I will ask you to give me your tongue.  After your tongue is placed in my mouth I will begin inspecting your nipples with my fingers.  At first I will use gentle caressing pressure to make them stand up.  When your nipples are sufficiently hard I will begin to squeeze them and as long as you murmur enjoyment and pleasure your nipples will receive my attention.  Careful breast squeezing will further arouse your interest.  Perhaps some careful sucking, licking, and nibbling will begin providing your respectful encouragement is well received.  You will have a collar fitted and a short lead attached.  Naturally you will be led around to get a sense of how you walk in heels, how your hips and ass thrust up as you slowly move.  Your pheromones will now be tasted and their fragrance examined.  You will be directed to wet two of your fingers where you should now be wet and aroused.  Offering yourself and asking if more is needed will go a long way to establishing your further attention.  You will be directed to spread your legs so you can be inspected.  A little hair for decorative purposes is ok but too much around your labia will have to go.  Your hair will be trimmed with perhaps a stylish V created and the rest shaved off.  You have begun your journey and it’s time for you to dress for the adventure.  Do you have stockings and a sexy garter belt?  Well put them on.  I expect skimpy and sheer panties.  Your breasts should be supported and offered.  Makeup and fragrance needs to show how you want to be used and aroused.  Spanking is so critical to your excitement.  You love to be spanked but how is the question.  There are three basic spanking types; hand, paddle, and cane.  Which will make you lose your control and submit must be discovered.  Pulling on your lead you will be positioned on your knees.  Crossed slender wrists will be bound behind your back.  You will be instructed to position yourself on my lap.   I want to make sure you are comfortable and available.  I can detect your fragrance and increased breathing.  You know you want to be taken.  Instructions follow.  I will gr your hair and pull it back as you are vigorously spanked.  Naturally you will be aroused by the hair pulling and spanking.  You will have to count out the spanks and plead for harder or less so.  10 spanks will decide how you like your this treatment.  Now things are getting serious. After the hand spanking you will resume your kneeling position.  Have you ever worn a ball gag?  The sexist ect is the drool and you need to accept that you will drool when you’re gaged.  .You will be instructed to open you moth and the ball gag will be inserted.  Tying the ball gag in place behind your hair will set the scene.  A paddle will be applied to your ass.  You can ask for harder by nodding yes, begging for less by shaking no.You can continue with the way itis by just remaining still.  You will be gagged abd unable to speak but you can express your delight with groans, moans, squeals, and squeaks.  Perhaps hand spanking and paddling is enough to satisfy your masochistic desires for pain but if they're not enough then you'll be caned and marked. If caneing is the way to go for you, other arrangements will be necessary.  You will have your bonds released and be led over to a short table  Your wrists will be tired to the sides of the table.  Next your legs will be spread and tied to the legs of the table  You are now bent over the table and ready to receive the cane  Again you can try to control the severity with signals but you must understand you won't escape unmarked. Bent over the table, panting and waiting. I will toy your ass with my cane to let you get a feeling for what is to come. I will have to express my disappointment in having to abuse you in this fashion.  The caning will start and the count will be given.  You can try ro influce the intensity with signals and express your feelings with appropriate noises.  Whatever you do, you will receive 5 strokes.  Unless you beg for more. Which do you like best?  Does the hair pulling make you wet and weak?  Questions that are answered during your spanking assesment determine where things will go next Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE  

Today I was reflecting on something that has long been present in my life. As a youth, long before I had any language for BDSM or for how my attraction actually works, I hated environments like discos where the boys flocked around the pretty girls like bees around honey. I wasn’t a great dancer and I’ve always seen myself as fairly average looking, so I assumed I just felt “uncompetitive”. But it wasn’t just discos. The same thing happened in school groups, social circles, anywhere the dynamic shifted into a subtle contest. If I was interested in a girl and other admirers appeared, something in me would simply switch off. The interest didn’t fade - it vanished. I’d step back, not in defeat, but in disconnection. With my recent understanding of myself as demisexual - and recognising the emotional architecture that comes with that - I’ve realised it was never about insecurity or feeling “not good enough”. It was about wiring. I don’t experience attraction in environments built on competition, performance, or scattered attention. My system is tuned for depth, for attunement, for the kind of connection that grows slowly and privately between two people who are actually present with each other. When the field becomes crowded or performative, the signal dilutes. The possibility of depth collapses. And my interest shuts down automatically. Some people thrive on the chase, the rivalry, the adrenaline of “winning” someone’s attention. I never have. For me, attraction only exists where there is intentionality, reciprocity, and a sense of genuine one‑to‑one resonance. If that’s not the energy, I don’t compete - I disconnect. Not from fear, but because competition is simply the wrong ecosystem for the kind of connection I’m built for. I am left pondering where sites like Collarspace and Fetlife are right for me? So much seems to hinge on performance. But if not them, then what? Where?

Her hands held the pen, the black ink swirling across the page as she signed the contract. The last time she would ever see her real name, the last time her date of birth would even matter. She paused, holding her breath in her shuttering lungs… and as the seconds ticked by like years, her lung’s released and the chime rang. The electronic paper instantly sealed the contact and the encryption code saved to the nanochip.A metal arm came from the wall, and in a quick second her eyes blinked, and the chip engaged.She was still her, her personality, her smile, her spirit, but her body now belonged to the New American Order. She fought as long as she could, the price of housing and food had risen so high she was living so poorly. They had removed all unchipped teachers long ago, uncipped could not work jobs that paid in NAObitcoin. She could only get paid in paper money which only unchipped could spend. The black market was dangerous and she knew the consequences.The government now allowed people to elect to be chipped as household wifes. They would live a normal life, raising children, and making their families a unit, and thus rebuilding the community which once made this nation strong.She was a beautiful women, her long auburn hair landed in near perfect curls, her beautiful eyes could sink the universe. She held a PHD and would make an excellent home school teacher for a man who had a large family.She sat in the chair, gripping the skirt if the dress, and staring at the wall. A screen came on and the host started talking.“Gentlemen of the NAO tonight we have a wonderful selection of wives. They have all signed in willingly so there are no confinement rules for these women. Lets get started.”The door to her room opened and she stepped in to the hall. She took the step and closed her eyes, her sister got a nice man, they are so happy. She was going to have the same, she knew it.“First we have this beautiful older model, she will bare no children, but she is sweet and caring. She has a good voice, pleasant demeanor, tested level 9/10 in cooking and house keeping, she scored 10/10 in intellect. As you know gentlemen she will be tested for sexual abilities, her current rating in the outside was 4.6 so definitely above average but those chipless have no idea.”The door opened at the end of the hall, she walked quickly to the door, she had watched this millions if times on the tele. It had become required viewing but the poor only got to see the limited view, they put so many propaganda commercials in the show it was hard to really understand what was happening.The men in the room were all high class government officials, they were all men who had created the order, and their first wives were probably in work camps, or dead from the war. The rebels attacked their homes and wives, so many ran to other countries at the end of the war. Now other countries were turned to watch as NAO rebuilt and became the world leader of technology and education.The days of the starving poor was over, well as long as you chipped up. If you were a normie your life didnt change except you had no rent, no bills, but you worked for the government and ate what the government gave you. It wasnt a horrible life, you married in your class, and lived happy. The problem came with people like her. She was smart enough to live with out the system, pretty enough to be a wife, refined and well skilled, and her date rating put her on their radar.She only signed up to find a match, she was sick of her lonely home. They just started letting nochips on the site and she knew better!When her rating hit its highest the rent in her area went up, the power for vehicles tripled, food prices doubled. She got a speeding ticket and that was it… she couldn’t pay her rent… and there Lacy was, to offer her a spot in the highest ranked tv show in the History of the planet. It was required watching in the NAO and many international countries allowed their citizens to watch and participate, part of the new Jenniva treaty.So here she was, the room was black, the ceiling back, the bed and everything painted in the darkest black. She stepped to the door and the door behind her shut.“Remove your dress and precede to the bed.” The audience wouldnt see anything, its black, there is no light, but there are speakers and they can hear everything. She pulled her dress off and sat it next to the bed. She was stark naked, her large breasts we’re hanging from her, her body shivered as her hair tickled her back. She crouched down and lay down on the bed.“Place your right hand on the board. Place your left hand on the left board.” Her arms moved and then click the magnet locked, they had implanted her with magnets and chips throughout her body. The lights clicked off. For a second she could hear movement and then the headphones clapped down on her head. Hands ran down her body and the audience cheered as the meter stared to rise. His hands found her face and he pulled her in to a kiss, his tongue darting about and dancing with hers. His other hand found her pussy, and he clamped his hand down. The meter went to 1.0, and then his finger slipped inside, her body wetting for him, his head tilted, and his eyes flickered in to the darkness. “Ohhh a fun one.” He whispered in her ear. His fingers began working her clit and her body responded, he rubbed and twisted and pulled as she moaned loudly. Her chip holding her back from orgasm but leaving her right in the edge. He paused, and his mouth found her breasts which made her moan loudly again as the meter kept rising 3.0,4.0,7.0. The crowd started to whisper as no one had ever gotten higher than 8 and she was just starting. He pressed his cock against her, his large head pushing hard, as her rating went higher, and then he pushed in, hard. His huge cock filling her and pushing hard against the top of her as she moaned loudly, the harder he pushed the rougher he got the more she moaned and flooded him. Her hips moved with his, drawing him deeper, harder as she ground herself in to him. He reached up and put his hand on her neck, the default for allowing an orgasm during testing and she came. Her vagina pressed in on him pulsating hard as he continued to pound her, she came hard over and over moaning loudly. He stopped for a second and stepped back. “Turn over.” Her wrists released, and she flipped over, she had not had sex like this in years, she forgot it was anything other than a glorious night of love. He gripped her hips and pressed his cock in to her ass, as she arched her back and moaned out loudly. He started to work her ass slowly and then harder and harder pounding her hard. She shook as his hips hit her ass with a force she couldn’t believe. It almost took her breath how hard and good it felt. He reached up and grabbed her hair and held it tight slamming in to her harder, his other hand found her clit. He wouldn’t let her cum, he had decided now she didn't get anymore, they were all his. He pressed harder and harder, her body sweating and her breathing rough he continued, as he came he slapped her ass hard. The number blinked on the wall 8.7 highest first test score. The room blacked.. the commercial started, and men whispered among themselves.“I think i might have enough to purchasing that one.” A tall dark gentleman spoke. The room fell silent, as a bell rang which meant a second test was requested. The testing fee was not cheep, but someone needed to know her limit.Two men with night vision glasses came in and helped her straddle a round saw horse, her leg magnet locking in place, her wrists, she could no longer move.“Its time for the maximum orgasm test!” The host spoke in an over excited tone, his own body reacting to the sights. The lights turned off and above her head a digital board read 4.“According to the chip she has already orgasmed 4 times, remember folks the highest score ever is 70, in 2hours and 10 min. Once we start this test we will continue the auction.She was cold, but as soon as she felt it the sensation went away, the chip overriding the warning. A buzz starts in the background and her body starts to prepare, the sound of a milker clicking away behind her also made her body react. The buzz and tick tick take her in to a trance, and her body relaxes. He inserts a large 1 inch dildo inside if her, he clips the vibratior clamp on her clit as she lets out a loud yelp.“Mute her please.” The host says quietly. The man hits a button and her moans quiet and she starts to orgasm.“Oh no not yet kitten we aren’t even there yet.” His deep voice echoed in her ear, as thr command found its protocol, her body slowed the orgasm, and then liquid squirts on her ass as he presses in and works a large plug, its vibrations start to sink with the dildo. Her entire body clamped down, which only made the sensation stronger as she orgasmed hard. "oh yeah I should… release." as the word echoed in her empty mind the orgasms rushed in..10,11,12,13… her biometric system counting orgasm after orgasm.He smiled in to the dark as the goat milker cups attached to each breast and turned on low, then higher and higher, as it sucked her 38h breasts deep in to the glass, 22,23,26.He stood there watching with his night vision , his prize will be a percentage of her price, 30,31,32. He grabbed a flogger and whipped her ass hard, a flood of orgasms came in 41,43,44. He spanked her again, 50."Gentlemen our special purchase has hit 50! can you believe that? alright next is 35, rating 4.5, cooking 6 but comes with optional upgrade option, overall sex rating 8 with a maximum daily use 3 times… the bidding starts at her debt to the NAO of 100 Naobitcoins. Let the game begin. " the host pointed to the screen where bids were flying in from all over the world."The timer has started… bids are up to 2,000… 2,300… 3,2,1. 2,600 NAOBC… And your name is Cynthia. congratulations and may you live in the peace of your submission. " the audience said along with the host."now were are we at with our live test… 67 in 30 min, 68,69,70! she beat the record! She sucked breath in to her lungs as her body just kept going, she was dripping with sweat, her body begging for help, her moans muted her voice box turned off as she cameover and over. The machines clicked off her body shivered, and the chip took over, her hands and legs released as she stood, her brain not fully functioning. She walked to the bed her legs shaking and pulled her dress on. A door opened to a bathroom, an entire crew of beauty and glamor experts stood there. They had one commercial break to make her look fresh. She was pushed in to a shower the water spraying up and down on her in all directions. The water turned to warm air as she stepped from the shower dry and clean, the stockings slid on and clipped in to a pink and black garter. the corset top clipped in to place and then tied tight. her dress was slid over her head, and tightened down. Her hair was twisted and twirled and her makeup went on fast, a blinking light told the crew it was time.“Gentlemen it is time. How much would you pay? The time starts now…..” the     

We've gotten a few questions, people asking for more info about me dating the Trump supporter. We're still dating! When Kamala entered the race, I teased him a few times about losing to a woman and he'd always make it a point to tell me later (when I was tied up or bent over or otherwise had him inside me) that November wasn't going to change anything for me, that I'd still be fucking him on Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Valentine's Day, basically anytime he wanted. We don't get too into the details - he's not super politically engaged and it's actually kind of upsetting to think about the state of the country, and how rights are being taken away all the time, when I'm in a relatively privileged position and choosing to indulge in this kind of play. A few people asked how we met. We're in the same grad school program and he's always starting arguments about politics and "how come people don't just get a driver's license if they want to vote so bad", that kind of thing. I'd always jump in and push back, and he told me later that he liked getting me riled up. He said he liked seeing me flush and get upset and try to convince him of things when he didn't really care. We chatted a few times before classes and he'd be incredibly forward so he knew I was married, knew I wanted kids, made a few comments if I wore a choker or a fashion collar. After class one night, my car battery was dead so he came over and gave me a jump. We were the only ones left in the lot so while we were standing outside in the dark, he slid his hands in the back pockets of my jeans and pulled me against him. I instinctively reached back and he trapped my hands and held them behind my back while kissing me, jamming his tongue in my mouth. I blew him in his car and we made plans to go out that weekend. He's pretty rough and he loves being in charge. My husband will buy all sorts of bondage toys and I'll take them to the cop's apartment and that's where they stay. He keeps bondage straps on his mattress, has a spreader bar that he straps my hands and ankles to, has all of my favorite ball gags and blindfolds and plugs. He's also incredibly respectful, in his own way. He doesn't push limits we've discussed and I've gotten him to say things like "do you want me inside you?" which is as close to consent as he's interested in, but is still a huge deal. I let him take pictures of me tied up and naked as long as he obscures my face. I know men always show their friends and there's always the chance he revenge porns me if we break up, and he totally understood without arguing. He said he hears about that at work from teens and he knows it's a huge problem. Last story - he had me tied up recently, wrists and ankles on the spreader bar, gagged, a black hood over my entire head. Then his doorbell rang and he let in one of his buddies. We had discussed before that I was open to other men but I wasn't going to let them fuck me without protection. And here I was, ass up in the air, a stranger carassing me, unbuckling his belt. I started whimpering and wiggling my fingers. I was starting to make our safety signal when I heard him say "dude, condom, come on." I'm not going to say chivalry isn't dead but it made me feel good that he wasn't like "huh huh huh just fuck her in the ass huh huh huh." I gave them both a hell of a ride in gratitude. And to answer the most common question, no I'm not pregnant yet!

Simple Life For A slave Written by submissive4dominant its a simple life for a slave. it is removed from the trails and tribulations of the world, it just has one focus, one thing to concentrate its attention on…Master. it can only do its best to follow every order to make life for Master as comfortable, pleasurable and easy as possible. Master has to think, it just has to do.  it has spent the day cleaning, preparing food, working out to make its body attractive for Master, meditating and focusing on how it can be a better slave, maybe practising a new skill it has been told to learn. A text alerts it to the fact that Master is 5 minutes away so it pours His favourite wine and kneels by the door, head bowed.  What happens next will depend on Masters mood. Mostly He will grab the wine, dump His briefcase for the slave to put away and slump onto the sofa. Unless ordered otherwise, the slave will crawl over and carefully remove Masters shoes and give Him an expert foot rub, whilst Master drinks and comes down from the stresses of the day. Of course if it has been a particularly bad day Master might need a different form of attention, need to get rid of His frustrations before He can truly relax. A slap to the kneeling slave as He comes in is the signal that it should go and position itself below the frame, offer its body for Master to release His tension on.  Yes, its a simple life. the slave just needs to live in the moment, it never knows what to expect, doesn’t need to..it just accepts, just obeys. Will it be slapped, will it be stroked…it doesn’t matter each comforts it, lets it know it is fulfilling its purpose in life. 

I LOATHE setting up WordPress.  I mean.. .GAAHHH! I miss doing things via .html where I had control over what went where, and how things looked. Yes, it was a LOT of work doing things like forms, sidebars, etc, but at least it went where I wanted it I still have to get dominaangeldmort dot com back on it's own space, but for now, at least the page is back up, parked on my angeldmort domain, and I have the podcast started, sort of The first run through is up, and it does play, although I think I need to re-record it, so it doesn't sound so... flat?  and I can't figure out how to put the subscribe or donate buttons on there, etc The link is up on my fet group, if anyone wants to have a look It's called Why You Can't Find a Dominant Woman If anyone is good with WordPress, or web design in general, feel free to offer some advice It's a start.

Some things to think about written by Ms Rika (she writes books about femdom and the power dynamics). I don't always agree with her 100% but I enjoy her thought provoking article. Rika thoughts   Ms_Rika SOOO many conflated, fantasy-driven thoughts in one place! FLR does not mean femdom. They are different things. They MAY coincide...often times they do...but they do not necessarily have to go together. If you mean Femdom, say Femdom. Marriage is an institution that is legal, often religious, and personal - and completely independent of power dynamics. You can layer a power dynamic on ANY type of relationship, "Spouse" is just one of them. The reason to marry someone is the same whether there is a power dynamic or not and it's not a power dynamic decision. Therefore, the reasons a marriage with a power dynamic dissolves are the same as the reasons one without a power dynamic dissolves. Femdom (and FLR) does not equate to cuckolding. Cuckolding relates to cuckolding. You can be a cuckold and NOT be a Femdom relationship (or an FLR, for that matter). Sometimes cuckolding is done within a relationship - sometimes it's not. Often the man doesn't know (technically, the man doesn't know). While it is possible that some power dynamics limit sexual interaction between the couple, not all do - and power dynamics certainly DO NOT imply a reduction in sexual activity. Sexless marriages are due to people whose libidos drift - or who no longer are interested in their spouse sexually. It has nothing to do with power dynamics

If you are applying for a postion with us you need to keep in mind that each communication is part of the interview. So when we tell you to answer the 8 questions that can be found below in one of our other journal entries make sure to completely answer them all.  As we go through the process make sure you read our messages and answer completely and thoroughly all what is asked of you. In the end we go back and evealuate all of this before deciding if we think you are a good fit and serious about this.    Here is how our process goes. 1. You reach out to us first with a message introducing yourself, someimes we reach out to females we may be interested in and introduce ourselves and ask them if interested to do the same, either way you should be thorough in your answer. 2. Unless you read our profile and journals and answered the 8 questions, extra consideration if you did, we tell you to read everything ans answer the 8 questions. 3.. We ask you if you have any questions 4. we give you an email address for you to reply to so we can send you the house rules  5. You will review the house rules and ask any questions in them and once done decide if you are able and willing to live by them. 6. We give you and advanced questionaire to fill out and we ask any questions about it we need to know more about 7. We allow you to ask questions you may still need to know before deciding if you want this with us. 8. We decide if we want to try it with you and you do the same we exchange phone numbers voice verify each other 9. set up trial period 10. you do trial period and we discuss with you at end of it whether we are all in agreement to offer the position.  11. You get training collar for 6-12 months 12. Once we feel you are trained you get permanent colar.

He didn't mince words.  "Let me see you in make up" My hands trembled as I spread some foundation on my face. Being watched made the experience more nerve racking.  Twenty minutes later, I turned towards him, hoping for approval. He studied me for a moment, then smiled kindly. "Not bad for a first attempt. But it's not you yet." I looked in the mirror. The eyeliner was uneven, the lipstick too bold, and the blush sat awkwardly on my cheeks. "So... start over" he said. i wiped it all away. Again. And again. And again. Each attempt grew more natural. My hands steadied. The lines became cleaner. The colors softer. Nearly two hours later, I turned to face him once more. This time, he nodded with quiet satisfaction. "There you are," he said. "Not because it's perfect—but because you finally stopped rushing and started seeing yourself.  From now on, this is how you will see yourself. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, unsure of who exactly was looking back at me.

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

It's baffling why some guys start an email by saying they've read a profile, and immediately make it obvious that they haven't. Or that they have little or no reading comprehension. Do you think we're so stupid we won't notice? You know everybody can tell who has looked at their full profile, right? You can't read all of mine without looking at the full profile, so I KNOW IF YOU HAVEN'T. Not to mention there are things in there placed there specifically to see if it's been read.Do you think there's nothing in there you might need to know? Do you think a dominant just wrote it for fun and it doesn't mean anything? Do you think "getting to know a dominant" might include reading what she writes? Do you think lying about it will make a good impression?If you want to get to know me and maybe serve me some day, the first step is to PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT I SAY. Starting with the profile. The second step is to NEVER LIE. I mean, seriously, this is not rocket science, guys. Anybody past ten years old should be able to figure this stuff out.

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,

On Being Felled, Temporarily   I have been absent. Those of you who follow closely will have noticed the silence and drawn your own conclusions. The conclusion is this: my body staged one of its more dramatic rebellions in the form of a kidney infection serious enough to take me entirely off the board for the better part of two weeks. I do not get sick quietly or briefly, apparently. When I go down I go down with the full commitment I bring to everything, which I would find more admirable if it were not so thoroughly inconvenient. I am on the other side of it now, or near enough to be upright and writing, which I am choosing to count as a victory. While I was ill, someone broke into my home. I want to let that sit for a moment because I am still sitting with it myself. I was sick, my children were unsettled, and someone decided that was an acceptable time to violate the space where my family lives and take what did not belong to them. They took the children's gaming system, which in the grand accounting of what could have been lost is not the worst possible outcome, and I know this, and I have said this to myself many times. It does not make my children's faces easier to look at. The specific devastation of a preteen who has had something taken, not misplaced, not broken accidentally, but deliberately stolen from their home, from the place that is supposed to be safe, is its own particular kind of heartbreak to witness as a mother. They were crushed. I was furious on their behalf in the way that only a mother's fury operates, which is to say completely and with no available outlet. I handled it alone. As I handle everything. And this is where I find myself needing to say something I do not say easily, which is that my resilience, that quality I have always counted on, felt genuinely shaken this past week. Not broken. I want to be precise about that because I will not be imprecise about myself even when honesty is uncomfortable. Not broken. But shaken in the way that a foundation shakes when too many things hit it simultaneously, the illness and the violation and the children's hurt and the daily weight of a life I carry without assistance, all of it arriving at once while my body was already at its limit. I had hoped, by now, to be in a different chapter. I had hoped, genuinely and specifically, to be in conversations about sharing a home with someone actually prepared to show up for this life. Someone whose service was not theoretical, not a future intention, not a beautiful idea that dissolves on contact with the reality of what showing up actually requires. Someone who would have been here during a kidney infection that left me barely functional. Someone whose presence would have meant my children came home from school to a stable and managed household rather than to a mother running on empty and a space that had been violated. That person does not currently exist in my life, and the disappointment of that is not small. It is not something I can dress up into acceptance without first acknowledging that it is a genuine and specific grief. I built a vision. I know what I deserve. I know what this dynamic looks like when it is real and functional and inhabited by someone with actual capability and actual commitment. The gap between that knowledge and my current reality is something I feel most acutely on the weeks that ask the most of me. I am resilient. I will return to myself completely, as I always do. But this week the crown was heavy. I wanted to tell you that honestly, because this space has always been about the full truth of this life, not only its beauty.   More soon. I am still here. I am still unserved. I am still waiting and wanting. 

Am I a monster? by Sintara » Sat Dec 05, 2009 12:21 pm I am a female sexual sadist. I spend hours on end fantasizing about torturing men. I don't hate men, I love them actually. The more I like them and the more I feel sexually attracted to them the more I want to hurt them. Nothing turns me on more than the whimpering sounds and wincing facial expressions they make or if they cry. I also find myself turned on if I see a guy limping. Its even more exciting to me to see other people who care about them feel sorry for them when they see the injuries they have later. I would love to be able to torture a guy and then send him home to a loved one and get to be a fly on the wall so that I could watch that person feeling bad for them and trying to help them.I obsess over CBT. My fantasies get pretty extreme. I know that there are many sexual sadists out there but I feel like a monster because my fantasies are so extreme. I feel guilty because despite feeling like a monster I also feel a strong desire to find a man who is masochistic enough to allow me to do these things to him. I try not to think about it but I can't stop. I can't get sexually aroused without picturing suffering men in my mind. I collect pictures of injured and tortured men to look at so that later I can have sex with my husband without him knowing how sick I am.I also have a blindness fetish. I would like to find someone who would agree to wear contacts that made them blind so that I could watch them try to make their way around without sight. I would also enjoy hurting them without them being able to see when it was coming. I might make him complete tasks for me blind so I could watch him struggle. With contacts instead of a blindfold I chould still fully see their facial expressions, which are very important to me. Then I would be aroused enough to have sex with them. I would want them to still wear the contacts during sex so I was in complete control.I'm so tortured by all of this because my husband called me a "sexual psychopath" and I have to hide it from him now. It has ruined our sex life. I'm addicted to it and don't know what to do. SintaraConsumer 4 Posts: 92Joined: Sat Dec 05, 2009 8:57 amLocal time: Wed Apr 20, 2022 12:37 pmBlog: View Blog (0)

  I need you to innocently move in close while I am talking to you -- your touch on my hip like it belongs there. Drift your fingers under the fabric, lean in and murmur "I'm still listening." Make my voice falter, my words scramble, my mind tangle, and deliberately distract me. Then, casually, make me answer your soft questions, like nothing is being done to me. But increase the pressure. Make my mind melt. Make my thoughts b lur. Make me forget the point in all of this.Make it so that speaking my mind becomes hard, and that giving you my body becomes the preferred expression of my opinions.

Recently I've been having some fun on another site that specializes in Doms keeping subs in chastity. So last night I had this one guy... mid 30s... glasses.. looks like a real computer nerd approach me. I was not going to give him the time of the day and I sensed he was going to be a bit of a brat. But he begged, begged and pleaded. Eventually after a lot of negotiating and exchanging some links I agreed to put his dumb ass in chastity for a simple 2 hr lock. Guess how many times he messged me begging to be released during that 2 hour  span of time. 37x. I can't make this shit up even if I tried lol.  So naturally when I returned to the site after getting dolled up for the day I see the messages. And I'm pissed. Becuase I specifically told him to sit his ass in the corner with his cage on and butt plug in and wait for me to return. He got called every name after the sun which I'm sure he enjoyed and I extended the timer for the rest of the day. I also have access to his dildo machine via lovesense and let's just say today he could barely sit down without a pillow. He thanked me this morning :) he loved it. 

So, here's the deal: I'm 62, I have finally found comfort in my shell... I need a PERMENANT Mistress who is going to be BRUTAL with me, use me and abuse me, dehumnanize me, heavy CBT, bondage, caging/kenneling, toilet (full sometimes), outside bondage, predicament bondage, ashtray slave, spit slave, eating the dead skin scrapings from your lovely and delicious FEET, and yes, your small toenail clippings which I'll consume. I'm REAL, ladies and I need this. I love being in a cage/kennel. I'm not here to waste yours or my time. I'm here to be your slut/pig/whore/toilet/whatever you want. I DO NOT CARE. I get tribute so, yeah, not a problem but NOT before, please. I'm old school and will do that when I come for my 2+ hours therapy session. I take my servitude seriously and my slavery seriously. This is the life I've chosen. Women are POWERFUL and are to be OBEYED. Men don't get that. I do... Women are superior to men in every way. Women abuse/use me as they wish. This is the way. I believe it. I live it. I know it. I shave all the hair off my body save for my lower arms and head.  I wear pantyhose or stockings and panties (all the time).  I love the body I'm in and how I'm used/abused. I seek to have a mistress experiment on me, try new things and enjoy our time together. Please, I beg all Mistresses to consider this slut for her enjoyment. I will travel to you. Warmly and humbly, slave selene (my female name)

I am a Black woman, living in Amerikkka. As the result historical, societal, and universal pressures I've developed a power and strength that intrigues, inspires, and intimidates... some of you feel me before you see me. You know who you are ;-)   So what would I need with protection? Do I need protecting? Certainly a woman with my knowledge and experience can handle things herself, right?   Unequivocally, Black women need protection.    Protect Black women.    Malcolm X said it best, "Black women are the most disrespected, unprotected, and neglected in America". And I'll take it a step further, and say we might even be the most disrespected in the world. Why? Because anti-blackness and WS is one of Americas most prolific exports.    Yet, regardless of the prevailing narrative - Black women are beautiful. WE ARE AMAZING. We deserve respect, recognition, resources, regard, and above all SAFETY AND SECURITY.   And the latter is not possible without protection.   Protect Black women.   Yours Truly,   Thee Blaque Queen Goddess

  It is important to start with the right premises and not waste each others time. When contacting Me, I assume that you have read the above information and we now have a common language. There is no reason to discuss this all over again   Complete sincerity is understood and by the slightest sign of lie or leak of seriousity I lose My interest   Either you are committed and a 24/7 relation is your first priority now, or move on. I am not interested in empty words. If you do not intend to enter a 24/7 permanent relation within short time, don't waste My time   OBSERVE:   Since most of candidates does not have the fairest idea what 24/7 is in reality, I will put this clearly:   It is very different from sessions, weekends or anything exciting you ever dreamed of.   It is nothing like you imagine. It is not exciting at all. It does not give you any rush, nor kick, or fun.(If you made it reading this far, you most write in your answer to Me the words ''devotion'' with capitals.)   Slavery is about obeying, being ignored, serving and doing what you are told, not what you feel you would like to do   Does the list seem long to you? Hard/boring to read, even harder to fit into it? If you get bored to read it or any of the above does not suit you, it is a sign we are not a match.You are then welcome to continue your search and I wish you good luck   If you do find the text interesting, hang on and continue to read but bare in mind:   The below deion does not depictwho I am, it only analyzes the concept of slavery   What is Real Slavery, then?   Slavery, and I do mean Real slavery, has been around before recorded human history.   The ownership of people by other people, in its purest form - slavery - has existed for thousands of years throughout the evolution of civilized humanity.   There is a distinctive difference between CONSENSUAL slavery and non-consensual slavery.   Non-consensual slavery is ILLEGAL. I explicitly CONDEMN the practice of non- consensual, involuntary slavery. Non-consensual, or involuntary, slavery has been made illegal in every major country in the world.   So, if non-consensual, involuntary, slavery is illegal, than how can someone legally own a real slave? Oh, that is an excellent question.   Consensual slavery is not a myth; no more a myth than marriage (or a "civil union" in some cases) is or than being an employee is. Legally, you cannot use the word "slave"in any contractual agreement. It's a legal thing. However, the principals of slavery are perfectly legal as long as everyone involved is old enough to enter an agreement, capable of comprehending the magnitude and gravity of the agreement, and then fully agrees to enter the agreement.   From this point on, and everywhere else in this deion, wherever you see the words: slave, slavery or enslavement it is being referred to Consensual Slavery.   Now, while a slave very well may wind up in a monogamous relationship, owned by just one person who cherishes them as their prized property, showering their slave with love, affection, fidelity, devotion, consideration and only the best of care, where both owner and slave consider themselves as 'equal' partners, and while such an owner may consider the slave their property and while these slaves may consider themselves as property of their owner, I would not consider a relationship so described as “slavery”; no matter how brutal the S&M play may be. The above deion is generally referred to as a deep D/s relationship and not necessarily one of “slavery”.   Many people will argue that "slavery isn't real" and/or "you cannot have no choice slavery or no limits slavery (etcetera)" using the argument that: "because that would be non-consensual slavery - which is illegal".   The fact is (regardless of what any idiot you might have heard said) you most certainly are allowed to legally "give up" (or "waive") your rights. There is no law that says you are not allowed to voluntarily choose to disable any (or all) of your rights. People "give up" their rights all the time; sometimes (unfortunately) without even realizing what they are doing.  

RigidityI have recently discovered something about my psyche. I have a very rigid mind, or at least when it comes to roles. I like dominants to be dominant, and subs to be subs. I like hierarchies, both parties knowing their place makes a relationship work, i feelBut my mentality has a few downsides too: Once roles are realised, i don't know if i can ever see someone in a different light. If a dominant wants to submit for a change, i can't handle that, If they start acting contrary to their established role, it just causes damage to my mental image of that person, and my respect for them   I also group kinks into these rigid roles. There are a variety of things that i feel are "submissive acts", and a dominant doing them makes me uncomfortable in the same way, even if they are just doing the things they want to do. These include things like: -consuming urine -wearing chastity -Worshipping feet -being penetrated -Begging, or pleading   And to a certain lesser extent, rimming and giving oral The list is not exhaustive These are all things that i, as a sub, am generally comfortable and happy with, But i can't really deal with a dominant choosing or maybe even wanting to do these things, it feels wrong. Amd I get "the ick" These have largely not been a problem, but there are a few edge cases where i talk to someone promising, and then they reveal wanting to do stuff like this, and it kills everyting. Not all at once though, i try to explain whats wrong, they usually understand, don't talk about those desires again for a while. But unfulfilled desire always resurface, and someone who wants to be penetrated is eventually going to ask me again to do it. And again, and again.   I guess we can say that "dominants doing submissive things" is one of my hard limits. it makes me irreconcileably uncomfortable and wears down the respect i have for a person.   I dont think i can change the way i think,maybe others can't either. i'm seeking a dominant who likes this kind of rigid hierarchy too.

As an experienced Dominant in the leather community, I can certainly understand the appeal of consensual objectification within a safe, sane space. When I discover that my submissive derives pleasure from being treated as an object of desire, it elicits a complex range of emotions.   There is a sense of power and control, knowing I can shape their experience and push the boundaries of their submission. But there is also a deep well of trust and responsibility that comes with that. I must handle their vulnerability with the utmost care, ensuring their needs are met even as I strip away their agency.   It's a delicate dance, really.    On one hand, there’s the thrill of reducing them to a mere plaything for my enjoyment.    On the other hand, there’s the profound connection of being entrusted with their most intimate desires. It's a privilege to be granted that level of trust and intimacy. And with that privilege comes the duty to wield it wisely, to push just to the edge without ever compromising their safety or well-being.   Does that resonate with you? The heady mix of control and care, power and responsibility? Please speak to me, and let us explore this dynamic further in the confines of our sacred space.

Chickens and eggs, carts before horsesBigSigh .. 1st visit, Excellent.  2nd, smh .. Idk which was more detrimental,The combo of miscommunication and misrepresentationor My own error in not insisting on sticking to My original plan anywayBut was led to believe it would be integrated ..  however, wasnt .Then today a previously hidden but suspected piece of the puzzle was revealed, and now the whole pictures clearer, but lost much of its allure.. Shame, bc the issues wouldnt have been issues if theyd just been discussed, and or handled better. Wish it all had been .. ah well.. smh .. hindsight sux Only bright side Im capable of coming up with atm is; they keep weeding themselves out quick as spit 

This is a message from my past, sent by my former muse from what feels like another life... I read the stories you sent me to read. I looked at the pictures, watched the movies and, like you said I should, I’ve sat and processed it all. You said I would have one of two responses, and you were right. You said that either I would run for the hills and my old way of life and living, or I would be drawn closer to this one and everything that comes with it.   You told me that the second choice was like a moth to a flame, and that it never ends well for the moth, something like that anyway. You said that the second option also meant being honest and open and clear.   So, here goes…   Mostly I think about being dumb and helpless. There’s always more going on around that, but at the centre of it, like a hub on a wheel that everything else radiates out from, is me being dumb and helpless. I don’t want to just be a victim, I want to be your muse. And yes, I know what that requires of  me and where it leads.   But I don’t think of you has cruel or kind, gentle or brutal, even though you can be all of those things and more besides. I very much want to learn and know every side of you, to see you as a father giving love in all he does, no matter how sweet or bitter. The idea of you as daddy is deeply powerful, arousing and frightening. The thought of being dumb and helpless before you, absolutely a defenceless victim, is terrifying but undeniably what I want. Wrapped up in that is a deep-seated need to find out what, when completely free and unrestricted, you want to do with me and to me. Wrapped up in that, is an intensely arousing hunger to meet the version of me I can become when I serve you.   And it’s in those thoughts that I find myself vanishing. I don’t want pain or damage or to suffer or to be broken and miserable… unless you do. I want to resist you so you break me and when I’m broken to you, for you break me even more just to ensure docility and obedience. Permanent feels right. No more choice. Just living as your property and treated accordingly the majority of the time.   I think about being so dumbed down that time becomes meaningless. Bound on all fours, one machine slowly fucking me, another pushing deep into my throat, breasts and nipples repeatedly suctioned hard, hooded, gagged, ears plugged, only able to see and hear what suits your purposes. I think of being so gone that when whatever is violating me is removed, that I cry in need and confusion, only settling when I feel you replace what was taken and I drop into bliss, knowing my daddy loves and needs me.   So, I would love for you to put me on a regular, scheduled training regime, explaining what the purpose behind everything is and what side effaspects there are, hopefully drastic, and you seeing me obey you. I love when you educate me, when you train my mind to think the way you want me to and to see the world as you need me to.   I know we have talked limits and I know there are some there, but in the end I want my limits to reflect you, not me. I don’t think I care what that means for me, and if I do I hope you will help me change so all I care about is evolving for you.   I want to be as you want me to be.

As I mentioned before I quite enjoy submission..  At times I really enjoy some of the profiles here as I see  submission beyong my expectations..  The possibilities are endless. Mind you it does not mean  its a green light to do anything that my mind could think of.. It means  that there is a journey for both to   take and to  learn from it together.   And why learn? Because it's different with each  sub or dom, reactions, feelings expectations, likes and dislikes.. Protocols and rules are part of my thing...  It brings a spark to my eyes...  " I have you, and you are mine"  Because you  choose to submit and I choose to dominate  the perfect connection can be formed.  Its not because you decide I am worthy of your submission.. Rather because we both decide to commit through submission and domination, that both decide that the person in front is worth our time, effort and dedication...   Love dedication and focus..  More to come..   

I told her to sleep on the rug next to my bed, i think it was a mistake. She was open vulnerable, tender,  in need of assurance, tenderness not to be push away. Yeah i fuck up i was 26 not an excuse but a reason for my stupidity. she was 33 with two kids, a bubbly  personality with a bit of a mom belly,  hips that she did not recognized and stretch marks that she pretended that was not hers. She was in the wrong body, wrong life, with responsibilities that she resented. I was more than just a good fuck, or s strong hand, i was to dumb to inexperience to know what she needed me to be. I was coming down my high my dick was no longer hard my senses no longer had  a hold of me, she was a mess, sweat, tears and all other liquids was emanating from her. Why did i do the things that i did? and why in the hell did she let me? i was mad at myself for letting that side of me take hold. She was still panting mascara running, with her two hands between her thighs digging in the rub with her hollow eyes peering up at me on the bed. "Stop trying to read me" her breathing was starting to slow down " I'm not" she answered. sweat running down her welted breast mouth slightly agape, her tongue scoop something up from the corner of her mouth as she reach her forehead and pull her greasy, sticky hair back, with both eyes close she moan. Dam she makes it to easy for me. Her other hand reach for the comforter between my legs, i swatted it away, "your sleeping on the floor tonight" her face responded with confusion but her eyes with hurt. I't was suppose to be after care, holding, assurance that she was mine and no ones else. pride, selfishness and ego mix with lust, testosterone is the recipe for beguile stupidity. i can tell that i was scarring her. I toss her a blanket and a pillow of the bed and told her, " go wash your ass.' It was the mixture of coco chanel, sweat, semen, funk me, jell, among's other things that was aggravating  my mood." your mad at me?"  she ask without making eye contact. head down hair covering her face but i knew she was sobbing. Reaching up she grab both of my hands, "you enjoyed this, we both did, you know i wanted this, I need you, don't push me away." Lips quivering along with the rest of her. In her state of panic she look pathetic, weak, "I belong to you and only you" she sniffled. Those emotional tears started moving me. " you've lowered and debased me, I'm no good for anyone else, i'm yours." she poured it on the more she felt me grow. I reach down to the left of her and grab the rope, less then three seconds i had both her wrist loop and tied. shock by my aggression and speed, she wince in pain. In one swift motion i had the rope over the harness on my ceiling. she was on her toes, armed stretched to the ceiling back arch ass out. "Hey man you want us to leave?" said one of the fellows in the living room, "yeah make sure not to forget or leave anything behind." 

Thought for today.... A mediocre Dominant tells,  a good Dominant teaches,  a excellent Dominant explains ...  but a true Dominant Inspires.

I used to love whoring and slutting around. There wasn’t anything quite as fun as finding a new cock to play with – I was always thrilled at how fast I could get a guy hard and how hard I could make him cum with my mouth or my cunt. Fucking was the only time I felt genuinely confident in my 20’s. A lot of that came down to Kevin. I belonged to Kevin (on and off) for over a decade. He was my first D/s relationship, and his primary focus and kink was whoring me out. He loved having me be an absolute filthy fucking slut for him, and the confidence and power I felt in that role over time was incredible. Through him, I learned how much power a woman could have in herself by submitting to her own sexual desires. It wasn’t just that Kevin loved having me be a whore (as much as I wanted to think that was my sole purpose at the time), I fucking loved sex and I loved the attention and desire I felt from men in those moments. I loved the strength and confidence I gained from their desire; it was a strength that lasted a lot longer than the encounter did, that’s for damn sure. I didn’t need their reassurance or their attention after. I didn’t need them after, period. I got my reassurance from Kevin. His praise and enthusiasm for my behavior reinforced the strength that I gained and reinforced my confidence in my skills. I didn’t have shit for confidence walking down the street or walking into a party to be around strangers, but the second I was presented with a hard cock, it was Game. Fucking. On. THAT I knew I could handle with perfect confidence, grace and skill. And I fucking relished every moan, groan, sigh, gasp, and trembling muscle from the man I was with. In my 20’s, I was somewhere around 340-375lbs. I didn’t really get on a scale very often, so I honestly don’t know how much I actually weighed. What I do know, is that it was Kevin who taught me that my size didn’t preclude me from being desirable. When I moved to “the big city”, I had the opportunity for basically unlimited male attention, which was a first for me, having grown up in the middle of nowhere Nebraska. Kevin encouraged this exploration, but also gave me very distinct rules and boundaries (he’d more than learned by that time that I had no idea how to establish, let alone maintain, my own boundaries). He made me go to Planned Parenthood to get my birth control shot. He “gave me permission” to tell guys to fuck off if they didn’t want to use protection for sex; I could ‘blame my Owner’ if they were at all hesitant. Having all this attention from all these different guys, never having to go more than a few days without sex if I didn’t want to, god – it was fucking incredible! And in the background, was Kevin, telling me what a fantastic little whore I was. When it came to being with Kevin, it was an even bigger reassurance. He told me once, during a moment of extreme insecurity, “I don’t give a shit what you look like, Lisa. What I care about is control.” I knew I could give him that better than anyone, the question was, did he actually mean it? The short answer is, abso-fucking-lutely. When my stunning beauty of a roommate (who’d played with Kevin over the phone and online multiple times) joined us one night, I figured it was going to be game over for us. She was a knock-out compared to me and way better at everything sexual than I could ever dream of being. He was choking her with his dick and she freaked because he wouldn’t let her control the pace or how far down her throat his cock went. She jumped up and took off out of the room to go smoke a bowl and calm down and he called me over. Despite her naked self standing mere feet from him, perky ass and tits on full display, he was totally soft. The second I put his dick in my mouth and let him choke me to his hearts content, he was rock hard and having the time of his life. She eventually came back to the kitchen table where he was sitting while I sucked him off, and I remember feeling an unbelievable surge of pride as he praised me, telling me what a good girl I was, how much he loved choking me and making me cry, how pretty my tears were. And when he finally came in my mouth, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that for some men…it really is all about control. And I was officially hooked. That was all I wanted from that moment on, and to a large extent, it’s still all I want. Especially when it comes to any type of D/s dynamic. I don’t fucking care about the sex, whips or chains…I want the man who gets rock hard simply because I love to obey, to give up as much control as possible. I want the guy who gets off leaving me a list of chores to do in the morning and is way more turned on by me having completed the whole list plus some, then having to “punish me” because I failed to do those tasks. I want the guy who’s dick goes soft because a girl tells him ‘no’ (and he would never dream of pushing her beyond that ‘no’), but he gets hard as steel, instantly, because where someone else says ‘no’, I say ‘yes please and thank you’. I don’t need gymnastics and props…they can’t do anything nearly as good as a hand in my hair and a deep voice whispering in my ear.

Values beyond the flesh So often I hear from ladies how this guy just wants sex, that guy just wants nudes, or even in a local trend "Doms" charging sex for scenes claiming they deserve it for all the work which gets put in by them :eyeroll: The desires of the flesh leaves so much unseen. The beauty of the mind, warmth of a heart, passions of ones soul have always been so captivating to me. Even at a young age in gradeschool I found myself writing poems well beyond my years. I was recognizing the fact that the flesh fades. Wrinkles will form. The body changes with stress, kids, injuries, and any number of factors which life throws our way. That "perfect wrapper" was purely a deception and the true beauty laid so much deeper. So over the years I dated ladies of a wide range of physical descriptions. Race, weight, disabilities, prior traumas, were not detractors but seen as part of the history she had lived and what helped shape her into the wonderful person she was. I put my heart and soul into the relationship easing away the scars revealing the beautiful lady which laid beneath all those layers. In return I was presented with someone stronger, wiser, and more loving than ever before. It was a healthy wonderful exchange with great rewards. I took on many scars of my own over the years. My face is wrinkled with the stress of it all. My heart is tired and sore. For all that I took on in my life I have been showing the wear and tear. Even still I hear those same complaints. Nomatter the smiles I try to bring the story is always the same. Lady's will complain about all the heartache brought by such disgusting leaches which drink their heart and soul dry all while overlooking the guy who can truly love them and treat them as they truly deserve. As more than a piece of flesh, but as that person deserving of support, compliments, a partner truly there for them in this life. The person standing right there next to her through all this heartache crying his own tears at her pain. The one called upon in distress, but never seen truly.  

For whoever needs to "hear" this.. It’s easy to feel uncared for when people aren’t able to communicate and connect with you in the way you need. And it’s so hard not to internalize that silence as a reflection on your worth. But the truth is that the way other people operate is not about you. Most people are so caught up in their own responsibilities, struggles, and anxiety that the thought of asking someone else how they’re doing doesn’t even cross their mind. They aren’t inherently bad or uncaring — they’re just busy and self-focused.. And that’s okay. It’s not evidence of some fundamental failing on your part. It doesn’t make you unlovable or invisible. It just means that those people aren’t very good at looking beyond their own world. But the fact that you are — that despite the darkness you feel, you have the ability to share your love and light with others — is a strength. Your work isn’t to change who you are; it’s to find people who are able to give you the connection you need. Because despite what you feel, you are not too much. You are not too sensitive or too needy. You are thoughtful and empathetic. You are compassionate and kind. And with or without anyone’s acknowledgment or affection, you are enough.  

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

This bears reposting just about everywhere. I don't know why I bother though; guys will agree with their mouths but so many don't agree with their hearts: What do you mean when you offer to serve? What do you mean when you offer to BE of service? What do mean when you offer yourself in servitude? Do the answers to these questions bring up visions of you being bound helplessly while being exquisitely tortured, teased to the verge of orgasm? Do you envision some Amazon Goddess sporting a huge strap-on taking you anally? Do you envision yourself prancing around in some French Maid Costume and being asked to provide oral service to a Mistress? Do you envision some woman sqatting over your helplessly bound body "forcing" you to serve her orally? Or do you envision being put over her knee and spanked like a naughty little boy? Yes, nice visions aren't they? However, not one of those visions is the definition of "serve", "service" or "servitude". Oh, I'm sure many subs consider them to be just that, but if you check your dictionaries you won't find any mention of French Maid Costumes, bondage, strap-ons, oral sex, or any other fetish you may enjoy. In fact you won't find any mention of fetishes at all in the definitions Serve is defined as: 1. to work for, be a servant; 2. to act in a specific capacity; 3. to place food before, wait on; 4. to be of assistance to. Service is defined as: 1. the occupation or duties of a servant; 2. the act or means of serving; 3. duties performed as an occupation. Servitude is defined as: Submission to a master; slavery. When you offer to serve a FemDom, what you are offering (or should be offering) is the surrender of your control. You should know her well enough to trust her with your life. When you offer your servitude to her, you are telling her that you trust her judgment, you trust her to keep you safe from harm, you trust her to know what is best for both of you, you trust her decisions and desire to follow her orders and obey her in all things. Your offer of service is your ability to let go of your ego and your free will (control) and allow her to control you. Serving is, first and foremost, the act of making her life easier. It is compliance with all her desires, wishes, orders. Yes, BD/SM and fetish play, more than likely, will be included as part of the relationship. But overall, the D/s ect of the relationship will be where you have turned your control over to her and you do as she says. It is about pampering her and catering to her. Everyday life will be a part of this, for most people do have to work, bills do have to be paid, people need to see doctors occasionally, and dentists. Then there are family get togethers, family emergencies, social gatherings with vanilla friends and also with D/s friends. For the most part, life will seem pretty vanilla, but there will be one difference. IF you have truly submitted, then your actions will be measured by how your Mistress would feel about it. Your decisions will be based upon what you are allowed, or not allowed to decide without her permission. You will treat others with respect, but especially other women. You will consider that your actions would reflect back upon your Mistress, and therefore act in a manner that would make her proud of you. There may be other constant reminders, she may insist you wear panties under your clothes at work. But you will always remember that you have submitted to her and will honor that commitment. How can you serve your Mistress - what are the ways? Here are some suggestions: -Make sure her home is clean and neat. -Make sure her clothes are clean and neat. -Prepare her favorite foods for her. -Prepare her bath. -Rub her feet after she comes in from working all day. -Offer her a massage if her day was very stressful. -Offer to do her manicure and pedicure. -Have her favorite music playing or find her favorite show or movie on TV. -Surprise her with flowers. -Serve her coffee as soon as she gets up in the morning. -Ask what clothing she wants laid out for her. These are just a few of the ways you can serve her once you have been trained in what she wants and likes. Don't be afraid to use your imagination to surprise her (provided of course that she has no problem with you doing this occasionally). A happy, contented, pleased, relaxed woman is a woman who will then have no problem torturing you, using you, or even indulging you with a fetish or two that are your favorites…………just to show you how much she really appreciates your service and submission to her. So, what are you offering?

From Messaging I think I have found that a Dominant Master who is not just looking to lock you up and take you out from society knows the Psychology of Mind Control and can recognize how to properly indoctrinate you and knows your weakness and strengths and knows how to unseat those strengths and play to your weakness to make you learn to be dependent on the Master for everything just to avoid the sensory deprivation part of the breakdown. In the end you are the blank canvas and willing slave for a life of servitude and no regrets or expectations anymore. slave to be taken

Hello all, I want to take a moment to give out some tips to cathing my interest with your messages. Some of these are gonna sound bitchy but take them to heart they will help you not only with me but probably every woman on this site.  1) In less than 24 hours I have recieved nearly 30 pages of messages. If I don't get to you immediately when you send a message, do not spam me with stupid are you there, pay attention to me, come here slut, and so on messages, that only slows me down and pisses me off and i will most likely just block you. 2) Do not write a thesis paper as a first message. I have 30 pages of messages to read and If your first message to me is more than a paragraph I am not investing the time into you.  3) On the opposite side of above, don't just say hey, or whats up. You need to catch attention with your first message. Also don't just tell me to look at your profile. If your message catches my eye I will go look on my own. 4) Don't send me a dick pic without asking first, come on its 2023 women shouldnt have to say this anymore. I am submissive but all your cocks look the same and I don't care to pretend otherwise lol 5) This might just be me and not all women but I do not want to immediately jump to some other messenger. All thousand of you who have messaged me today want to use a different app, I don't want to have 1000 apps, and if i cant keep up here alone why do you think 1000 apps will be faster? If we click and get to know each other i might move to an app, until then if you dont want to chat here why bother being here? Ok, rant over. The jist is guys, women here get absolutely flooded, dont be an ass about it. And if you think you deserve my sole undivided attention after one message get over yourself, if thats how it worked the first guy who messaged me would be the only one i talked too and where would that leave all the rest of you?

Standards vs Micromanaging I've pondered the question of control for years. Early on I had the notion in my head that the more controlling you were the more dominant you were. Like a badge of achievement that you got to claim, a contest you won if you were the most controlling. I still see that basic frame of thought all over the place. I also see the thinking that the more intense the dynamic the more controlling/micro managey it is. I've tried various levels and forms of control with women over the years and whenever I've strived for micromanagement it's been entirely unsatisfying. I've also found that the men who seem most interested in micromanagement are trying to fill some sort of hole within themselves. I remember one woman I met who wanted complete micromanagement and frankly it was the emptiest and most robotic experience of my life. Hence the internal struggle in trying to understand the controlling impulses I have, the need for power and ownership, while also not really having the patience or desire to stand over someone's shoulder minute by minute. I finally found some phrasing that I think helps to express what I actually think and desire.

 RAWRSUB