I turned the handle to my office as my day was officially done. hearing the soft click as I locked door to leave for the night. I glanced at my watch it was already 10:07pm. All this time spent working on a huge case trying and hoping to make partner. Today alone, I spent 13 hours reviewing everything from witness statements, depositions, and every page of the case file.By the time I locked my office door, I knew the fact inside and out. I honestly didn't like what I was seeing. The trial was set for a month from now and I was already feeling the pressure. As I walked to my Black SUV with dark tinted windows I specifically ordered. I kept replaying my clients testimony and something didn't add up to me. They kept changing their wording in the story leaving gaps and wholes in their timelines. I have worked hard to get to where I am at in this firm. I am not about to let this case or this clients weak testimony ruin my chances at partner. Getting into my SUV I looked at the time it's already 10:10pm. Looking into the rear view mirror I start to think about the case again. No, enough I need to win this case, and I need a clear mind to do so. Losing the tie I take deep breaths imagining the win imagining partner. Despite my long hard day, I couldn't help but smile. For the first time I believed I could win this case. Finally starting to relax my wife enters my thoughts. Before leaving work I asked princess to do one simple thing for me. I wonder if she had done what I asked. If she did I would keep the promise. A quiet chuckled escaped me. Knowing princess she probably spent the better part of the day tying to guess what that promise was. She probably wasn't even close. Turning onto my street, the stress from the case had finally began to fade. I pulled into the driveway, shut off the engine and looked into the mirror one last time. A big smile formed across my face. I wonder what waits for me in the house. Did Princess do as I asked? Knowing her, she probably had. She has been looking forward to this all week. I just hope she enjoys her surprise half as mush as I enjoyed planning and setting it up. Walking to the door I could hear the faint sound of music. The closer I got the more I could make out the sound and then it hit me Pink Pony Club. I couldn't help but smile. Opening the door I see Princess just singing and dancing along. She is so caught up in the music she doesn't notice when I sit my brief case down, approach her and wrap my arms around her smiling. Kissing her neck Good evening princess. She jumps a little startled as my arms wrap around her and she freezes. Princess slowly turns and sees me. The surprised look melted away and tuned into the biggest smile I have ever seen from her. Daddy! You're home! she excitedly squeals. She kisses me looks me in my eyes with anticipation. I look around and notice she had straightened out the living room and did the dishes. I also could smell that she cleaned. Good girl princess. She smiles wide! Daddy since I was such a good girl may I ask what my surprise is? You promised! I laughed, you may ask. She looks up at me with her pouty face and puppy dog eye. Will you please tell me what my surprise is? I kiss her forehead look into her eyes No, but what I will tell you is to dress to impress. She tilts her head looking at me, so you're not going to tell me? Crossing my arms smiling but not saying a word. she mocks me you're impossible I chuckle so I've been told. now hurry and get dressed. She walks to the bedroom stops at the doors looks over her shoulder, she smiled. fine Daddy, ....but if I am over dressed , it's your fault Before I had the chance to respond she sticks her tongue out as she disappears into the bedroom. Dress to impress? ......... What does he mean "dress to impress?" .......... Is he taking me to a restaurant?...... Noooo,.. If it was a restaurant he would have told me not to eat...... Rooftop bar?....... A charity gala?....... Will he like this outfit?......... or this one? UGGHHHHHH he is so impossible sometimes how do I know what to wear if I don't know where he is taking me......OHHHHHHH.........I haven't worn this in years.........will it still fit?........ I love this outfit, it always turns heads........ Now what boots? Pulling out a purple and black corset top and a black skin tight skirt with black thigh high with 6 inch heals. Putting on the corset and pulling up the Skirt intentionally leaving the panties off. She looks in the mirror studying herself...... Perfect and it makes my ass pop....... Now to do my make up I will make his jaw hit the floor. The door opens......... as I look up.......... my heart skips a beat............ you look absolutely stunning princess...... she struts down seeing me follow her every move, knowing she accomplished her goal. Daddy?........she playfully strokes his arm looking up at him into his hazel eyes... Will you tell your good girl where we are going now?.......... Without saying a word he takes his arm into hers and leads her to the door.... Trust me princess you are going to love it...... Let's just say it is something you have been wanting to do for awhile now and this is the perfect for you.......... You get to have fun and be happy and I get to watch you have fun and I can get this.....huh I guess you got it off my mind already. Noticing she is blushing I lead her to the door, opening it for her and she notices another bigger SUV in the driveway. Looking at me confused...... who's SUV is this? I smiled at her. It's part of your surprise princess. She playfully slaps me. Sometimes you are impossible but I love you. Kissing her forehead I love you too. Opening the door I lead her into the vehicle and get in after her as we leave. As we turned the corner, you could hear faint music drifting through the windows of a large blue and black building. she glanced around, her curiosity growing by each passing second. People lined the side walk. Some wore nothing more jeans and t shirt. Others wore leather, lace, elegant evening attire. Everyone looked comfortable. She looked out the passenger window and see one couple in leather holding hands laughing with an elegantly dressed couple, watching the woman adjust the man's tie. Daddy? she is looking at me wi

I spent years becoming cool And in one single second you can make a decade of my efforts disappear I'm just waiting at the bar and you rip open all my scars By saying something like, "Didn't know you were here" I always knew I was a martyr and that Jesus was one too But I was built from special pieces that I learned how to unscrew And I can always reassemble to fit perfectly for you Or anybody that decides that I'm of use Lonely is the muse Ah Lonely is the muse So, where do I go in the process when I'm just an apparatus? I've inspired platinum records, I've earned platinum airline status And I've mined a couple diamonds from the stories in my head But I'm reduced to just a body here in someone else's bed I always knew I was a martyr and that Jesus was one too But I was built from special pieces that I learned how to unscrew And I can always reassemble to fit perfectly for you Or anybody that decides that I'm of use Lonely is the muse Ah Lonely is the muse Ah And I will always be a martyr, I will fill your life with songs I'll be a wind chime in the window, catching life you throw around And I will tear apart your bedroom, I'll call you in the night I will exist in every second just to decorate your life And when you're done, you can discard me like the others always do And I will nurse my wounds until another artist stains me new I will always reassemble to fit perfectly in you For anybody that decides that I'm of use Lonely is the muse Ah Lonely is the muse Ah Lonely is the muse Lonely and forgotten aside (Halsey - Lonely is the Muse)

slave knows no gender, has no expectations, lives to please its betters, keeps its Owner always in mind, knows and expresses gratitude among other things. The slave reading this probably feels inadequate with out the ability to ever 'measure up.' And, well it should. However, I have never found a slave that adequately fills the above list of particulars. So, I expect to devote much energy and time to training; maybe a life time. Do not worry about coming to Me as a finished, accomplished slave. Rather, come to Me with an abiding need to be subsumed in devotion and service. Everything else can follow. Master James

Voice Verification Unfortunately, there are many males here pretending to be females. So, before I invest more time with a 'female' at initial contact, I require at least a voice verification. In its next message to Me, either offer Me its phone number or request mine, slave. To elaborate a bit, I really do not care if My slave property is male or female. I do not care if the prospective "female" is actually a male that has made contact with Me. I understand how a slave could be so lost in its desire to feel the control of a Dominant that its imagination could take to the point of deception. To Me, that just means the prospective slave property is deeper in its need to serve than most. The best thing would be for any pretender to confess and seek atonement at the outset of the process of becoming My total slave property.

To be a good master in BDSM, consider the following key qualities: byanthonyp16562M Dom To be a good master in BDSM, consider the following key qualities: Respect and Trust: True dominance is built on respect and trust, earned through authenticity and understanding. Responsibility: A good master takes responsibility for their submissive's happiness and satisfaction, putting their needs before their own. Communication: Effective communication is essential; a good master listens to their submissive and guides them into a space where they feel their control and authority. Empathy: Understanding and empathizing with the submissive's needs is crucial for a health

Haha. Seems Drumf  is a bad word on this site. Let's see if an edit makes the cut... 11/5/24 If you're a Drumf supporter, let's not waste each other's time. We will never be more than cordial acquaintances, at best. I genuinely cannot ever understand the mindset that accepts his behaviours in any way, shape, or form, let alone as leader and role model for this country and the world. Apparently some people don't understand how politics plays into a site like this. In this case, it goes way beyond politics and into morality. I can be civil, as evidenced by my opening lines here. When what I really feel in my heart is: I have no fucking use for you in my life, you fucking traitors to humanity, compassion, and decency. You call yourselves patriots and wave the US flag, all while supporting a would be dictator. You don't value Democracy, nor any of the millions of immigrants, women, disabled and/or ethnicly diverse individuals, or even children you've stepped on...y'know, people who make this country truly Great. Your red hats are just as UN-patriotic as if they were red coats. At least you got the color right, traitors.

Review of Tea Party 17th June I just wanted to thankyou again for allowing me to serve at your party at the weekend. I had an amazing time and the ladies attending were exquisite.XxxSlave pat Thank you for another incredible afternoon of debauchery May! 😝💞 Miss A xxxThus Tea Party was a riott💃🏽- so many worthy 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆! Thank you Mistress May once again for letting us have such a good time. Miss V

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

He had been communicating for a while with an experienced Gay master and the day had finally come where they would meet in person.  They had agreed to meet in a public place at a little bar and café. If the meeting would go well they might be leaving together and he would be under his Masters control for the weekend. He had been provided with very specific instructions on the time to meet and what table to take. He had come in good time to make sure he could get the specific table his Master had instructed him to sit at. He wanted to make sure he left a good first impression.  He was in luck the table was vacant. It was in the remote/back side of the restaurant. He had been told to sit with his back facing the restaurant area looking at the wall which would allow his Master to approach him without him being able to see Master coming.  He was to order two specific bottled beer. He was not to touch the beers but patiently wait for his Master to arrive with both his hands on the table. Time went really slowly and he found himself constant looking at his watch.  He suddenly heard steps behind him. Was it the waitress or was it Master?  He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder and a voice behind him “Do not turn around “.  The hand massaged his shoulder end moved down his chest…. Gentle squeezing his nipples. The hand moved further down to his crotch. He was so hard.. “Heads and eyes down” He lowered his head and Master walked around and sat down at the table. He did not dear lifting his head.  He could see Master hand taking the beer and Master zipping off the beer while making a smiling sound. Finally he heard the voice “Okay you can lift you head” He excited lifted his head and there was Master in front of him.   They spent the next 20min talking and get to know each other while enjoying the beers.  It was a great continuation of the conversation they had had on email and chat and they both was in agreement to proceed the relationship to the next level. Master reached down in his backpack and took up a small carrying plastic bag.  “if you want to proceed you will go to the restroom and do what the note in this bag instructs you”.  He was super excited to continue and took the bag and hurried to the restroom. Inside the bag was a note that said.  “You are plug yourself with the plug in this bag.  Take off your underwear and place it into the bag and you are NOT to take a piss” The plug in the bag was luckily not that big as he was very tight in the rear and there was some lubricant.  He quickly slid the plug into place and removed his underwear. His cock was hard a steel and with no underwear it was scratching against the inside of his jeans. He went back to Master table and handed over the bag with his underwear. Master put on a smile..  “Now it is my turn, Please order me a new beer ONE only. ” Master excused himself and went out to the restroom.. He brought along his own beer bottle. He was quickly back and sat down.  “Well boy it is time you know who is boss” He handed his beer over.  The bottle was warm. OH my good he had refilled the bottle with his piss in the bathroom.  “Here is your new beer, now drink up” It was so humiliating. Sitting there in a public place drinking master’s hot piss out of a beer bottle.  He had tried drinking hot piss before but never this way.  Master was enjoying him selves with his new fresh beer. He finished the beer and would have loved to have had a glass of water to clear him mouth of the salty taste. “Good boy”. What do you say we get out of here….  They walked to Masters car. Master opened the passenger seat and he jumped in. He put on his seat belt and Master handed him a pair of sunglasses…  the sunglasses has the inside colored black and totally blocked his sight.  Master closed the door and jumped into the driver’s seat.  When inside the car Master unzipped his jeans and his hard cock immediately sprang out..  Master laughed, gave him a deep kiss and started the car. Another humiliating experience sitting there not knowing where they were going sitting there with his dick hanging out like a flag pole. Few minutes later they turned into Master driveway and into the garage and the automatic door closed behind them. Master went around to the passenger seat opened the door and guided him out of the car and sat him down on a chair in the garage.  “Get undressed, Quickly!” He quickly did as tol and soon was standing naked on the cold garage floor.  His hands was retrained behind his back with a pair of steel handcuffs and a ball gaga placed in his mouth.  Eyes down and follow me…  The next two days he would be under Masters control…

I keep coming back to the same thought. I want a man to approach me with a real plan. Not fantasy messages. Not endless teasing. A serious plan to take me, collar me, and put me into full-time ownership. I want the kind of life where I am naked in his house as a rule. Where the collar stays locked on. Where my mouth and body are available whenever he wants them. Where I kneel, serve, cook, clean, and get used without needing to be asked twice, and where my purpose is to be useful and sexually accessible to him every day. I’m not looking for part-time play or weekend scenes. I want the real structure. The daily weight of belonging to someone who will actually use what he owns. The mornings where I start on my knees. The evenings where he takes my mouth or bends me over because that’s what I’m there for. The quiet hours of waiting nude and ready until he decides what happens next. What I keep wishing for is a man who has already thought it through and is ready to say: “This is how we’ll do it. This is what the first weeks will look like. This is how I’ll take control of your body, your time, and your service.” Someone who wants the reality of ownership, not just the idea of it. If you’re serious, if you have a plan, and if you want a slave who is ready to be kept naked, collared, and used… I’m here.

A Masochist's Dream   She does not speak at first. She doesn't need to. The silence is the command.   I'm already trembling before the first touch, but it’s not fear — it's worship.   Her fingers are the storm before the pain, tracing the outlines of where I will break, where I want to break, where I need to break… just to be remade again beneath her will.   The first strike is a kiss I’ve waited my whole life for. It lands not only on skin, but on soul — and I open to it, gasping, grateful.   Every mark she leaves is a word written in a language only we speak: a dialect of fire and obedience. My moans are not protest — they’re prayers. My tears are not weakness — they’re offerings.   And when she stops — when her breath slows, when her eyes soften but her grip stays firm — I lie there undone, not broken… but finally whole.   Because in the ache, I feel seen. In the bruises, I feel known. And in the surrender, I am free.

Part 3  Yes , the brothers had one more surprise . I thought I was going to be alone, suffering in silence , but that was not to happen, or at least not yet . the boys had one last act . They were never really mean to me and I always liked at everything they did or had me do as caring for  me and showing me the c live and attention I did not get from other areas in my life . their final act was to make sure I continued as a pet , even though they were no longer in the picture . they had me meet them at the place in the forest that they usually took me to. I arrived and they told me that this would be the last time as I stripped and crawled to them . but thus time instead in binding me to a tree, they bound me to the log that functioned as a chair .after that they rolled my holes and deposited their seed as they had done so many times over the last several  years.  when they were done they both caressed me , before fastening a shiny red collar around my neck, a gag in my mouth and a hood over my head , and said good bye as I heard them walk away.  then I was alone bound , naked save for the collar and hood , lost in my thoughts, I dozed off unaware of the passage of time , or of the foot steps that had done up the path.  I awoke to the aroma of a hardwood fire. unable to see or speak, I listened intently to any sound. I could make out foot steps , two different ones . I felt a bit groggy and dozed of again . when bi woke the second time , I true to move , forgetting for a moment where I was and that I was bound . I heard an unfamiliar make voice say it's, awake . a female voice replied , I'll be ready in a few minutes wait . at this time I heard movement and could smell a perfume as the breeze came toward me . the male came over and removed the hood and as my eyes adjusted I saw him dressed in black leather pants, a chest harness and a cover snapped over his crotch.  then I heard her for the first time , in a firm tone telling him to remove the gag from her , emphasize the word her.  She walked over to me and stood in front of me , I had never seen a women dressed like this  thigh high shiny black boots , a short leather skirt , corset top , and a ringed harness around her waist . I had seen her before , she was the girl from the next block . As she stood there, she told me that the brothers in an act v of compassion had arranged this for me. they wanted to make sure I continued on my journey , She sounded sweet and kind as she explained that to me and that the reason I was Groff is they had coated the gag with a pill to make me drowsyand relaxed  as she wanted me to be relaxed for what was to come . after that she attached a chain to the collar around my neck and gave it a sharp tug. in a very commanding voice she told me the collar around my neck belonged to her, , the chain be longed to her and from now on I will belong to her and she expaspects obedience,  and loyalty , and the brothers have given me to her to continue my training , and iv was now her part to use in anyway she saw fit. did I understand , she un buckled the gag and asked me again did I understand , I answered yes , and she yanked the chain savagely and held it tight pulling the collar around my neck right enough to stop me from breathing , just when I started stuffing to breathe she relaxed , and a I was gaping for air she sits you first lesson , you shall refer to me as Ma'am, when we are in public , and Godess when we are not . so let's they that question again  Do you understand what I said that you are now mine to use as I see fit ? I answered Yes Godess . . she smiled very good. I understand you know your way around a cock . we will see , if your good enough , I'll let my boyfreind try you out . but it's not all about cocks anymore , you are going to learn your away around a pussy . her boyfreind came over with a dildo she attached to the harness around her waist. she had me thank him and to me he was Sir, from now on. . She approached until the dildo was brushing my lips and simply said show me.    

We found this online and now can't find it to reference. We are grateful to the author What is a Daddy Dom \ little girl relationship: Daddy Dom/little girl does not refer to the ages, real or pretend, of the participants. Nor does it imply closet desires. We do not engage in age play specifically (beyond the occasional school girl fantasy) and our relationship is not based on any need to have sex with children. A Daddy Dom is so named because of the qualities he possesses and the service he provides. So, what are these qualities? What is a Daddy Dom? His love for his little girl goes without saying. He loves her as much for who she is as for who she will become with his guidance. She is his prized possession. His eyes light up when she walks into the room and he takes great pride in her successes. After all, he helped to create her. She holds the most tender part of his heart and has the greatest power to hurt him. This love would not be possible without respect. A Daddy Dom needs to feel pride in his little girl. He needs to know she can hold her own in the outside world and still submit to him. He holds the greatest respect for the gift she has given him and takes great pains to increase it's value. It is extremely important to him to know she can be with any man and she chooses to be with him. He knows that this makes discipline a priority in their lives, more important than in some other D/s relationships. In order for the little girl to really trust, she must know he means what he says. If his little girl is going to be the best she can possibly be he must stand firm. He uses his experience in life and his knowledge of her to provide proper direction and punishment when the need arises. If he does not enforce discipline, this respect becomes a tenuous thing. If his submissive finds that she can manipulate him out of punishing her, she begins to lose respect and the ability to empower becomes impeded. He understands that it becomes increasingly difficult to be possessed by someone you do not respect. A Daddy Dom provides something else that is very important to his submissive...acceptance. She is safe in his arms because he knows her, everything about her, and he still loves her. When she goes to him she knows that this man knows all of her dirty little secrets and it doesn't matter. To him she is beautiful. Daddy Dom and sadistic Dom are by no means mutually exclusive. Many Daddy Doms embrace their sadism while understanding and feeding their submissive's masochism. This balance is necessary to many little girls because it allows all parts of her to be nourished, leading to an incredibly fulfilling relationship. I think most Dominants have a bit of the Daddy in them, taking on the role of male authority figure in the submissive's life and using their power to enrich that life. Daddy/little girl verbalizes that feeling, and adds a dimension of warmth, caring, and ritual that it's participants crave. There is something infinitely magical about a Daddy Dom. Perhaps it is something only a little girl can understand.

A record of a night out, recalled by the lady, written by me. Dinner. My phone warbled, from the tone I knew it was a text from Steve. ‘Blue’ was all it said. It was an instruction on what colour of underwear I was to wear tonight. That my lover had been thinking of what I should wear closest to the most intimate parts of me made an interesting diversion from a dull meeting and I took a moment to enjoy the prospect of what tonight held. 5pm arrived and I was out of the building like a sprinter, trailing my suit bag and case behind me! He had booked me into the beauticians for 5.30 and it was a cab ride away, luckily the station was only around the corner and a taxi was waiting in the rank. Leaning to the passenger window I breathlessly asked ‘The beauticians on Marchmont St as fast as you can please’. I jumped in the back and we took off as if he knew why I was in a hurry! On arrival I gave the Cabbie a £20 note and ran in through the black shop doors. The receptionist said ‘Ms Canning? booked in by Mr Mitchell?’ Yes I replied and was introduced to a middle aged lady who led me downstairs. Sitting in a consultation area she asked me a few questions that gave me some insight into what Steve had planned for this evening. I was going to be waxed, a Hollywood plus my legs, all my nails were to be done, a full facial and my hair was going to be worn ‘up’. My makeup was also going to be done, and a massage had been booked. I was going to be collected at 7.15 so time was tight. First I was waxed, it had been done before however this time all the hair was to be removed, including from my armpits, I was told to strip, and put on a dressing gown. I lay back on the white padded table, placed my lower legs in the cradles and tried not to seem embarrassed though the blotches on my throat gave my true feelings away away. As I had been booked in by a man they must have realised why I was there. I loved being Steve’s submissive however I still felt embarrassed if I thought people knew. Once she had started removing the faint traces of hair two women joined her and my finger and toenails were filed and prepared. They were finished before I had to turn over and kneel on all fours; they gently held my buttocks apart as she removed all vestiges of hair from around my anus. Once my eyebrows had been plucked I put on the dressing gown on and was taken to a large wet room and advised to shower quickly, but not to rub the waxed areas. It was heaven; the supply of toiletries was superb! I was quick, but called before I wanted to finish, trailing the dressing gown chord I went to the masseuse, Twenty minutes later I felt like a million dollars! She also applied the after wax solution to prevent in growing hair occurring. By now my mons was super smooth, and felt very sensitive.  Then back into the shower, a quick wash off to remove the oil and then I was dried in a hot air chamber! Marvellous sensations of being caressed by a powerful jet of warm air blowing up from the floor! I parted my thighs just more than was needed to feel its effect on all my bare skin! I thought this a luxury until I was surprised by being told I was having a spray tan applied to turn my skin the gentle tinge of honey gold that he loved. I blushed internally when the beautician informed me she had been told it had to be even, and all over. The private section of the beauty salon was the venue for my hair, make up, nails and I sat there nearly naked as people fussed around me. The facial was followed by the make up artist who asked what colour dress I was going to wear, dark blue I replied. By 6.45 I was being ushered into a dressing room where my bags had already been placed. I rolled the dark, seamed fitted stockings up my legs, the suspender belt had the proper metal clips so it was a simple job to fix them. The dark blue silky thong slid neatly between my buttocks. The bra was designed to give a little more cleavage than it needed to. Finally I slid the panties up my thighs. Steve sometimes expected me to wear them over a thong; he delighted in taking my panties off twice and knew I did not find a thong too comfortable to wear. It was part of why he made me wear one. My shoes were high and black patent leather with wide ankle straps. The dress was close fitting across the top, plunge necked almost to my bra and the slinky material fell from my waist to just above my knees. It had been slightly lined, so my elaborate underwear was not obvious. The shop called a taxi and I met Steve in the hotel foyer. Dressed in his DJ he was noticeable by his height but that was all that attracted attention. However I caught every male eye in the room. I crossed and embraced him as I always did if I knew what was good for me! It was a routine I had always felt embarrassed about, today it was more so as I was being watched by so many people. He murmured ‘You look absolutely stunning’. ‘Let’s get dinner out of the way, the clients wowed and committed to the project and you and I too our room.’ I stopped pressing myself against him as he finished speaking. Dinner was a fairly lively affair, if a little difficult due to the 3 different languages. It seemed the Japanese chap to my right could only communicate by looking into my cleavage. As I was the only woman I had no competition and wished I had! However as he was the senior partner in the firm placing the order I tried to show some interest and smiled until my jaw ached. By 10 it was done, a few good byes, an open ended expense account at a lap dancing club was organised and the rest of the party set off into the warm night air. Steve led me by the arm to the lift. His hand rested on my waist as the door shut, it was trailing across by bottom as the door closed. By the time it opened again the people in front of us would not have known his hand had been up my skirt and caressing my bottom and the length of my slit the whole way from the foyer to the 25th floor. By now my tummy had the light feeling that always presaged our time alone. I did not know whether I was to be spanked or made to pleasure him, the feeling in my tummy didn’t care. The room was large, the bed huge, it had a sitting area and a large desk. It was stylishly lit by wall lamps and just warm enough. The view out over London was amazing. He emptied his pockets onto the desk and removed his jacket. ‘Come here’ was a simple statement. It never failed to make my throat feel tighter. ‘Remove my tie’ was the next thing he said. I ran my fingertips over his neck and kissed where his shirt collar had been. He quickly spun me around so I faced a mirror, his arms encircled my waist and he whispered int

Its been a year since I discovered nu-metal. It's spoken to me like no other type of music has...Like as if...I was missing something in my life. My thoughts Is interpreted through the amplifyed speakers. Then, the YouTube algorithm brought KORN in the mix and just went absolutely crunk nutty.   

The following stated by another Rubberist summarizes my passion:Those that enjoy full rubber enclosure are into it because It's about being cut off from the outside world and being controlled in bondage, objectification. It also arouses by the feel of hot rubber on the skin, the aroma, the sound and the look.😍Rubber envelopes and controls the senses and combined with bondage and breath control is a total experience 😁I love it.

Right now this country has gone backwards. Most states have lost their mind.  Saying abortions for any reason is now going to be illegal.   Fine then child support from the day the woman finds out she is pregnant.  That means ½ the crib cost, the stroller cost, the swing cost, car seat, ¼ at least for rent when the baby will be.  ALL costs for a newborn baby.  Once born that means ½ the cost of the rent or mortgage where the child lives.  For example, if it is just the mother and 1 child in a 2 bedroom for 1000 a month, the child gets one of the bedrooms so has half the rent.  Then the mother pays her ½ and ½ of the child's.  That goes for the power, the car payments, the car insurance.  Things like daycare or food just for the child that is split evenly every month. If a MAN refuses to pay and has more than 1 kid that they are not fully supporting then the man is made to get a vasectomy

Five hour drive for a throat fuck, part 1.   In the not too distant past I had an encounter with a young woman that was quite enjoyable on my part. After talking for a couple weeks she decided to come down and visit me for a day. She drove five hours down to where I was to come and see me. Five hours one way with only the promise of meeting up to get some ice cream. It ended up being a bit more than that, but still, a five hour drive one way.  So after the five hour drive we met at a dairy queen not far from where my house is. She was very shy, but she built up the courage to at least get a little ice cream. We ordered and had some light conversation waiting for our ice cream to be made. Once we got it we went back to my car and sat and talked while enjoying the sweet treat. After we had finished and talked for a while longer, I asked if she would like to come back to the house with me. She agreed and went back to her car to follow me.  We got back to the house and went inside. Spent a little bit of time introducing her to the dog and letting her get a little more comfortable. After a while we migrated to the couch at turned on some unimportant TV show and continued to talk. I asked her how she was feeling and what she was thinking and her response was simply "I'm shy".  I asked if she would be more comfortable texting me her thoughts instead of saying them and she nodded yes. So she turned to her phone and typed away. We had discussed at length the different things that we both enjoyed sexually over the last couple weeks. One of the things that she particularly enjoyed but was shy and bashful about was being throat fucked, used very hard, given little if any chance to breathe or recover, and having a man have his way with her for his pleasure.  My phone vibrated after she finished typing away. In short, her message said that she was shy and nervous but she really wanted to please me and just needed me to tell her what to do and she would do it. I asked her verbally if she was sure and she nodded yes.  "Good, very good." I say to her as she sits on the opposite end of the couch with her gaze averted down and away from me. I move over to her, grab her gently by the chin and lift her face towards me.  "Look at me." I say and she responds immediately.  I tell her "You're going to be my good little slut now and do what I want, but I know how shy you can be and I don't want you pushing yourself further than you can handle. So at any point if things get too intense for you, you are simply going to say Time Out. Do you understand?"  She nods her head yes again and I say, "No, for this you have to say it. I need you to tell me verbally that you understand and that this is what you want. Do you understand? Is this what you want?"  She turns her eyes downward again and says "Yes Sir, to both."  With that I step back away from her and sit back down on the couch. "On your knees in front of me." I command and she moves immediately.  Oh we are going to have some fun tonight. I think to myself. Yes we are going to have some fun.  To be continued.......

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

I seek a Gentleman Being a Gentleman: Today, being a gentleman is a matter of choice. It is a title you earn through an unwavering commitment to invest in your character. It is not about perfection, but a constantly renewed pursuit of excellence.  Gentlemen are not stiff, pretentious, or focused on elevating themselves. Instead, they strive to succeed while helping those around them succeed as well.  Being a gentleman means that you care about how your choices impact others. It is about human connection. At a recent professional event, I was introduced to a man who dressed impeccably and had been working the room like a pro. His handshake was appropriate, and our initial conversation was pleasant, but he quickly became boastful, stopped listening, and seemed unaware of the people around him. Before my eyes, he transformed from a gentleman into a banty rooster—all puff and little substance. Sadly, he was unable to connect in a meaningful way. Our world is in desperate need of more gentlemen. Those who choose to pick up this torch are not only performing a noble feat, but they also reap incredible rewards. The qualities of a gentleman never go out-of-style and pay huge dividends. Qualities of a gentleman:     Generous A gentleman is generous with his time, wisdom, and resources. He looks for ways to help others. He is a servant leader, and his commitment to interpersonal kindness creates a positive culture that boosts commitment, engagement, and performance.     Positive A gentleman chooses to be positive. His positivity is contagious, and his consistent encouragement draws others to him. He practices gratitude, which research shows lowers his blood pressure, improves immune function, reduces stress hormones, and facilitates better sleep.     Lifelong Learner A gentleman maintains a teachable posture and actively seeks new challenges. His intellectual curiosity propels him to constantly better himself and his craft through reading, coaching, ongoing education, and time spent with mentors. He turns off the T.V. and silences his phone to make time for this investment. He is emotionally mature, mentally sharp, informed, and not ashamed to ask for help.     Civil A gentleman embraces civility by valuing all people and treating everyone with respect. From the janitor to the CEO, he carefully considers how his behavior and words impact others. He treats females and males with the same respect.      Well-Mannered A gentleman is well-mannered, and can effortlessly navigate social and professional settings with confidence and proficiency. He stays abreast of current etiquette guidelines, and uses social acumen to navigate shifting norms. As a result, he is as comfortable at a casual gathering with friends as he is in the boardroom. He returns his shopping cart, says “please” and “thank you,” holds doors open for others, tips generously, and smiles often.     Hard & Smart Worker A gentleman possesses a strong work ethic.  He takes great pride in his work and strives to give his very best every day. He is reliable, dedicated, self-disciplined, humble, and a team player. He leads and is led well. People want him on their team.     Sharp Appearance A gentleman understands the power of his appearance—that the way he chooses to dress, groom, and carry himself is either a bridge or a barrier to his success because what people see, is what they expect. He takes no days off from excellence, and his consistently sharp appearance demonstrates respect for himself and his environment, wherever he may be. He conducts an annual image audit to ensure that his appearance is up-to-date and supports his goals.     Effective Communicator A gentleman is well-spoken and a focused listener. He demonstrates conversational competence and leaves others feeling inspired, engaged, and understood. He manages his tone and body language to maximize connection. He knows that hearing is a passive physical process, but listening is an active mental process that requires work. As a result, he strives to really listen to what people have to say while also effectively communicating his point of view.     Confident A gentleman is confident in that he knows the value of what he brings to the table. He seeks competence, not perfection. His body language and commanding personal presence identify him as a leader. He stands upright, walks with purpose, avoids hiding his hands in his pockets, and extends a firm handshake.     Person of Integrity A gentleman does the right thing even when no one is watching. He is a man of his word, and is not swayed by peer pressure or popular opinion. The man he is at work is the same person you will encounter in the community and at his home. Ask yourself: How do you want to be remembered?

had forgotten i can leave 'journal entries'.   i've been unowned for almost nine years... or so?  i've kinda lost track. That's a long time to be wild. To be a stray. i've kinda settled into being alone.  i'm in no hurry to fall into someones lap again.  i read a lot of profiles here, see a lot of pictures, get a decent amount of messages from people who clearly haven't taken the time to learn about me.  Still makes me shake my head. i wonder sometimes if i belong here... The bulk of Doms here seem to want only a slave... they want to bruise and abuse, and hey, that's fine... for them, and for the people who seek that kind of... treatment. It's NOT for me though.  i don't exist to be treated like that.  i won't, be treated like that. i'm on vanilla dating sites too.  Coz, why not. Tossin that line into multiple ponds in hopes of finding -Him-.  While a lot of my views are vanilla, a lot aren't.  i feel like i don't really belong anywhere... i hope... one day, i will find someone as rare and unique as i am. Who wants to own me, train me, take care of me... bring out the utter best of me so that i can return it all back to Him. May those reading on this Halloween, find lots of treats, and enough tricks to make it interesting.

Caging a str8 male out of the cuckolding scene is a tricky proposition. I consider myself as a tamer of men and I find this a key part of taming and the most critical. Consider this, a str8 male's identity is built around prnetration, ejaculllation, and the exercise of unrestrined power. This trinity of str8 empowerment must be obliterated and refocused and that is where the cage is my best ally. Taking access to the object of their pride is like castraiting a str8 male, it cuts deep into their psyque and throws their world on a tailspin. A str8 male without a cock to grab is yours for the taking. Any submissive can and will understand your right to cage them period. However for a str8 male is an attempt against their masculinity and their deepest image of themselves. I usually get them used to see the superior man in e and the one who knows. Respect will make easier your demand and the logic of it. For the crowning effect they, not me must put on the restraint and the panic in their eyes can only be equated with the pain of deflowering. Like I like to say, a Bull has reasons that no str8 man will ever understand. 

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

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

SO,YES.I AM TOO MUCH. YOU ARE HERE TO CATER TO MY DESIRES.NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND,ACCEPT IT OR MOVE ON.JUST LET ME KNOW.

11/27/25 - updated 12/2/25* I'm at a turning point. I'll be focusing on things and people IRL. If you're near Denver and want to meet up at an event, drop me a line. I don't get message notifications here on CS, so FetLife may be your best bet. I hope you have an enjoyable and safe holiday season! Blue (= *I was away from CS for a while due to an illness. The cause remains unknown, however the effects were evident... The left hemisphere of my head went numb for almost two weeks, and I completely lost hearing in my left ear. I had balance issues, trouble focusing, and since the ear and sinus infection spread to my eye, I had pinkeye. It was frustrating to be unable to attend events at the Dungeon, including the party I'd spent over a year planning. Most of my hearing returned, though I gave some permanent damage on the left side. I'm wondering if there may have been some effect on my mental health while the side of my head was numb... I'm doing OK for the most part, just facing some issues that I haven't experienced in years. I'll be fine, I know. As always, I try to keep a positive attitude. Unfortunately I didn't get much accomplished during the month or so I was ill, which is one big reason I'm focusing on people and events locally. I'm still looking for a sub/slave, though, so I won't be gone for good. 😉

On having no experience... My preference would be a partner with some level of real life experience. That being said, if you don't have a lot of experience, it's your job to properly educate yourself.  I'm not sure why so many male submissives think it's attractive to approach a FemDom and say, "I have no experience, but am eager to have you teach me and mold me." Personally, I find it lazy and an instant turnoff.  It's the same fantasy-induced fever dream, over and over again. I've spent 18 years in the lifestyle and when I first started out, I spent quite a bit of time learning and honing My skills.  Subs and slaves who want to be taken seriously do the same. There are several excellent books to start with for basic training skills. If you're on FL, I highly suggest following slave underscore mission. he's got ninety or so journal entries and it's a great way for any beginner to find a place to start. Beyond that, there are classes, workshops, snack and learns...seminars; etc.  Bottom line, if you want an experienced and educated FemDom, you're either going to need real life experience or be able to show that you've taken considerable time and effort to learn the basics. Of course, once under consideration to become Mine, I would train you to suit My specific needs. But it's the difference between training runners for a marathon who have only done a 5k vs trying to train people who can barely walk a mile. 

Winners and losers can often be distinguished by their propensity to take action and their inclination to serve others. Winners are those who recognize opportunities and are willing to step out of their comfort zones to seize them. They understand that success requires effort, resilience, and a proactive attitude. Winners don't shy away from challenges; they face them head-on and learn from their experiences. Moreover, winners often find fulfillment in helping others achieve their goals, knowing that service enriches both their lives and the lives of those they assist. In contrast, losers tend to be more passive, often waiting for the perfect moment or fearing the risks associated with action. They may have great ideas and potential but lack the drive to bring them to fruition. This hesitation and inertia often lead to missed opportunities and regret. Additionally, a lack of willingness to serve others can limit their growth and connection with the broader community. Ultimately, the difference between winners and losers lies in the willingness to act decisively, persistently pursue their goals, and contribute positively to the lives of others.

New Kink Unlocked! She told me on the phone... You invite me in and walk me back to your bedroom. You order me to strip and to get on the bed in a doggy position. You are still clothed and slide a blindfold over my eyes. I can hear the shuffle of clothes as you disrobe and feel your weight shift on the bed behind me. Your fingers slide between my legs and can feel how wet the anticipation has made me. And then I gasp as you slide the length of your cock into my pussy, feeling your size for the first time. It has been quite a while since I was last with anyone and you are surprised by how tight I am. You grab my hips and begin fucking me from behind. You tell me that I am just a dirty cum dump and that my only job to take the fucking you feel like giving me. Your rhythm quickens and I can feel you filling me with your cum. But you don't pull out, and I feel your hands spreading my ass cheeks apart. You feel my pussy twitch as you rub my asshole with your thumb. You tell me another part of being your dirty cum dump is to take your cock in every hole. You tell me that you are going to fuck me in the ass and that I'm going to take your load there as well. You squeeze some lube on me and begin working in your finger to prep the hole. You ask me where your cock is going and I tell you "my ass sir." You "And why is it going into your ass?" Me "Because I'm your cum dump and my job is to take you cock in any hole you choose." Your cock has gotten hard again inside me and your fingers have lubed up my hole. You pull your cock out and I then feel your head pressing against my asshole. You lean your weight forward and over me, whispering in my ear to relax and take it as you slowly slide your full length into me. I feel so full and the size of you initially feels impossibly large. You give me a couple second to adjust to your size before you start a slow, gentle rhythm. You feel feel my body accept your and tell me "I'm going to fuck you faster now," and I feel a spike of nervousness as I already feel pushed to my limit of intensity. You are fucking me a bit harder and tell me that I'm doing a good job taking your cock so you are going to give me an orgasm. One hand reaches below me and starts playing with my clit... palm pressing perfecrly. The other hand reaches around and finds a nipple to pinch and squeeze. Your touch sends me over the edge, forcing me to cum hard on your cock. You cum as well, my orgasm essentially milking your load from your cock. You tell me I was a good cum dump and did my job well. I love it when you praise me for being a good toy. You roll me to my side and your mouth finds my tit as you finger me again with your fingers. You have me keep the blindfold on as we cuddle for a bit. Then I clean you and get ready for bed... wanting to sleep in your arms... but also thinking, worrying? wishing? you will take me in the middle of the night.

He said his biggest fear is eating pussy that just had dick in it…. I told him to only eat ASS because it's less traffic on the back roads   

It's odd to me that some men don't understand why there are women on here (and in general) who don't want to do what they want.  Men who contact women dick or fetish first, either visually or through words, and are peeved that the women aren't ready to immediately engage with them the way they expected.  "Hey, lady, if you don't want to do what interests me, why are you even here?!  Since I find you attractive, you have to find me attractive, too!"  How terribly disappointing for them to discover that women have their own interests and come here (and anywhere else) to pursue what they want.  Like, a xxx69MasterChode69xxx or a MrSirDomPencilDick4Lyf are really under the impression that women have been online just waiting for when they would contact them.  There's no other reason a woman would be online.   I know I certainly don't have my own interests and kinks.  Of course not.  I've just been waiting for another pic of an utterly forgettable male member in an endless onslaught of utterly forgettable male members or a lame headless torso, or worse yet, a vanilla guy who thinks a sloppy bj qualifies as "kinky" on a kink site.  I'm interested in pursuing my own kinks with the people who interest me.  I don't care what a guy wants.  I didn't ask about his fetishes.  I don't request pictures, so I'm not trying to see someone's face, body, or dick.  And unless my curiosity has been piqued enough that I'd be open to pursuing anything with a guy, none of those things are relevant to me.  I am here for my reasons, my kinks, my sexual pursuits.  They don't have to be the same as yours.  I am not going to pander to what a guy wants just because he wants it.  

It's been a few years since I was involved in a play party that was worthy sharing. I do live the slave life 24/7 and serve Master James and Mistress Tabitha. With that said the basic flogging, domestic service, run of the mill slave life isn't usually something to write about. Especially when you have been owneed for just over nine years.With that said, I have been commanded to share last  nights play with you.For the first time the BDSM group was invited over to play with me in a new way. The group consists of six Master slave couple and our threesome. All were present.Last night the atendees participated in using me for electricity and pain games.I was tied sprerad eagle in the barn. Standing with my wrists up high and wide over my head. The first game was a two litre enema, I was told to hold it for 30  seconds and there wouuld be no punishment for releasing it at that time. But if I failed I had to take a dop of tobasco on my tongue and thern on my clit. Now, I recieve two litre ebnemas often so this shouildn't be an issue. I take the enema, stand in the middle of the barn and four of the guests put magic wands on my mmost sensative areas. My body jerks but I manage to hold on.10 minutes after I complete my task another enema and this time nine volt batteries with exposed wires are used. As the guests spit on my nippels and cunnie to moisten me before I am zapped I know it's going to be hard to acomplish. I lasted 28 seconds. Instantly a drop of Tobasco is applied to my tongue and clit. I am told to swallow.It's a little hot but nothind serious. I do ok.Next I'm told the my punishment will be a drop of Carolina Reaper on my tongue and clit. Again the enema, this time four commerecial tens units are attached to my breasts and labia, but there is one exception, one of the guests puts a tens pad above and below my belly buton. The shock was horrific and I lasted mere seconds. The carolina reaper sauce set everything on fire. It was hell. It took me almost fourty five minutes to recover.Then came the last test. The last test, was actyually just to  torture me as there was no way in hell anyone could succeed at this point. One o my sister slaves from another Master adminiistered the enema, but this time two of the other slave walked over and kissed me on the cheek and neck whispering that they loved me. One was holding Ghost Pepper in a fluid form and the other a stun gun. My sister started at my clit and gently drew a line upwards towards my belly button. Half way between the two she discharged the stun gun and I lost control.Once again my ball gagg was removed, the ghost peper fluid was dripped onto my tongue and my mouth started to burn in ways I can't even describe. I'm bawling and choking and gagging. Then came the clit drop and I thought I was going to dislocate both shoulders as I fought my restrants. My throat was so closed up by the heat I couldn't scream, I was just ging and choking.Everyone in the barn was laughing and taslking about what a good little cunt I am. When I finally recovered Master walked over, said I had failed and he out a drop og ghost pepper sauce on his finger and slipped it into my ass.I have never complained about a session with my owners or the group before, but this morning I did literally beg then not to do that again. Mistress gave a gentle kiss and told me to rememeber my place and that I had begegd them to use me as they wished over nine years ago.They are good to me, but I fear tyhat I may have overstepped my bounds this morning and that I will pay a price for that in the future.

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

 Captive Desire   The night was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the house settling. Olivia Bennett sighed, shutting her laptop with a soft click. Midnight again. She stretched, rolling the tension from her shoulders, and glanced around the empty house.   Jake was away on business. Connor was at a sleepover.   It was just her.   And then—a sound.   A soft, deliberate thud from the garage.   Her pulse spiked. She sat still, listening, waiting. The house held its breath.   Another sound—this time a scrape, like something dragging across concrete.   Her heart hammered as she stood. Probably nothing. A box falling, the wind knocking over the broom—something harmless.   Still, she grabbed her phone and padded downstairs, flicking on the hallway light. The garage door loomed ahead.   She hesitated.   Then, hand trembling, she unlocked it and stepped into the cool, dimly lit space.   The scent of motor oil and dust filled her nose. Her car sat untouched. The shelves were undisturbed. Everything looked normal.   A sigh of relief left her lips—   And then the light went out.   Darkness swallowed her.   The shift in the air was immediate.   A presence.   Her breath hitched.   Before she could move, strong arms wrapped around her, yanking her back against a hard, unyielding chest. A gloved hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her scream.   Hot breath tickled her ear.   “Shhh,” a low, masculine voice murmured. “Don’t fight it.”   Her pulse slammed against her ribs.   She struggled, kicking, thrashing—but he was too strong.   A thick cloth pressed to her mouth, something sickly sweet invading her senses. Her limbs grew heavy. The world tilted.   Darkness.   She woke to a whisper against her skin.   The air was thick, warm, carrying the scent of something rich—cologne, leather, danger.   She stirred, wrists bound above her, ankles tied to the posts of a bed—his bed.   Her breath caught.   The room was dim, candlelit, casting flickering shadows against dark wooden walls.   And then—him.   A man, clad in all black, standing at the foot of the bed. A mask hid his face, smooth and featureless, but his presence was commanding.   Powerful.   He trailed a gloved hand down her leg, slow, possessive.   “I’ve been watching you, Olivia,” he murmured. “Waiting for the right moment.”   A shiver coursed through her.   She should be terrified. She was terrified. But beneath the fear, something darker stirred. Something she didn’t want to name.   He knew.   His fingers traced the delicate lace of her nightgown, teasing along the hem.   “I wonder,” he mused, voice velvety, “how long you’ll resist before you give in.”   She swallowed hard. “I—I won’t.”   He chuckled, low and knowing. “No?”   His hand moved higher.   Her breath hitched.   Her body betrayed her.   Heat pooled in her core, a flush rising to her skin.   He leaned closer, breath fanning over her lips. “Your body says otherwise.”   She turned her face away, but he caught her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze—though she couldn’t see his eyes, she felt his dominance.   “Tell me to stop,” he whispered.   She parted her lips—   But the words never came.   He hummed in approval. “That’s what I thought.”   And then his mouth was on her, claiming her.   Possessive. Insatiable.   A captor. A stranger. A master of her pleasure.   And she let him take her.   Over.   And over.   Until she forgot what it felt like to be free.  

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

So I begin this new year still seeking a sub who is sane and not so self-absorbed to believe that I would drop all that I am doing to cater to his fetish du jour. Why do guys think that I am going to stop what I am doing to peg them if I am not really into pegging anymore? Or that I want to spend hours talking to some dude 5 states away about it when they aren't here? I don't want to get into an internet thing with some dude I want to find someone who can actually play who is here not someone jacking off by themselves in their mother's basement or some dude sneaking away from the wife long enough to get hard so that he can finally fuck her so that she will shut up.  I think the hardest part of all of this is how I can't seem to find what it is that I thought would be fairly easy to find. A pretty guy who is sane enough to want to explore his bounderies and still be able to fuck. But that has proven to be rare enough. Meh. Maybe my need to actually like a sub is my problem. I am not into using people and I am not really into broken people so that leaves a lot of men on the table. And shit, let us not get started on the women.  I know we all have our baggage but don't bring that shit to the session. I am not a therapist or your mother. I just want to have fun too. And digging through your emotional shit is exhausting.   

I was asked about the history of M/s in the U.S. so I put together this paper for my class that I teach. As many of you know, I teach classes about our lifestyle. Consensual Master/slave (M/s) relationships form a distinctive branch of the larger BDSM world, built on explicit consent and mutual trust rather than coercion. Though the language echoes the United States’ painful legacy of slavery, within this context “slave” refers to a self-chosen role in which adults negotiate the terms of authority, service, and the freedom to leave at any time. Tracing the history of these relationships reveals a story of gradual emergence from secrecy to visibility and of a community that continually refines its ethical principles. Long before the term BDSM existed, underground currents of erotic power exchange ran through American life. In the nineteenth century, small “flagellation societies” and clandestine magazines catered to people fascinated by ritualized dominance and discipline. Early-twentieth-century fetish photography and private clubs in cities like New York and Chicago hinted at a subculture that could not yet show itself openly, constrained by strict obscenity laws and the threat of arrest. After World War II, a more public foundation appeared. Returning veterans formed motorcycle clubs and gay leather bars, creating what became known as leather culture. These spaces celebrated hierarchy, uniforms, and protocol—values familiar to men who had served in the military and who now sought camaraderie and structured erotic play. San Francisco’s South of Market district, Chicago’s Gold Coast bar, and New York’s Greenwich Village all nurtured this emerging aesthetic. While not every leather relationship was explicitly Master/slave, the emphasis on ritual service and clearly defined roles foreshadowed the dynamics to come. The social upheavals of the 1960s and 1970s brought the first real stirrings of public organization. In 1971 the Eulenspiegel Society, or TES, was founded in New York as an educational and social group for people interested in consensual BDSM. TES meetings offered a rare safe space to discuss negotiation, service, and authority exchange. At the same time the gay liberation movement and the post-Stonewall push for visibility encouraged practitioners to speak more openly, while feminist debates over sexuality and power sharpened the community’s thinking about agency and consent. It was during this era that the term “Master/slave” began to be used more deliberately to describe ongoing power-exchange relationships rather than isolated encounters. Through the 1980s and 1990s the community expanded and codified its ethics. The principles of “Safe, Sane, and Consensual” became a rallying cry, soon joined by the idea of “Risk-Aware Consensual Kink,” which acknowledged that all play carries some danger if undertaken without careful negotiation. National gatherings such as Living in Leather and organizations like the National Leather Association connected practitioners across genders and orientations. Amid the HIV/AIDS crisis, leather and M/s groups became hubs of health education and mutual support. Competitions such as International Mr. Leather made formal presentations of Master/slave relationships more visible, and writers like Guy Baldwin explored the psychology of dominance and submission in influential essays and books. The arrival of the internet around the turn of the millennium transformed everything again. Email lists, online forums, and later social networks such as FetLife allowed people in small towns or conservative regions to find community, share protocols, and even post detailed M/s contracts. Education went global as conferences could draw participants from every region. Meanwhile, mainstream attention—from documentaries to the runaway success of Fifty Shades of Grey—brought BDSM into living rooms and office break rooms, if often in sensational or inaccurate ways. Academic researchers began publishing peer-reviewed studies that showed consensual power exchange could be compatible with psychological health and relationship satisfaction. Today’s M/s community in the United States is strikingly diverse. Participants span every gender, orientation, and cultural background. Annual gatherings such as the Master/slave Conference in Washington, D.C., offer advanced classes on negotiation, long-term dynamics, and the philosophy of service and ownership. Many households create written agreements spelling out duties, limits, and the right to revoke consent, underscoring that autonomy remains central even within total-power dynamics. Yet the term “slave” still prompts careful reflection. Some prefer alternatives like “property” or “servant,” while others reclaim the word as a conscious statement of agency. This ongoing conversation shows how the community remains attentive to the country’s history of chattel slavery and the need for language that honors both freedom and responsibility.  From clandestine nineteenth-century societies to today’s internet-connected conferences, the evolution of consensual Master/slave relationships in the United States is a story of people turning hierarchy into intimacy. Over more than a century, practitioners have built a culture grounded in negotiation, education, and mutual respect. Far from re-enacting oppression, these relationships transform the language of mastery and service into a chosen path of trust, discipline, and personal liberation.

When we kiss When we kiss Bears and boulders Vibrate through the air i will probably do a whole post on laura veirs. her songs are little girl and softcore approved. but this song when i heard it over 10 years ago..this is love. just a simple share.   When you sing When you sing Stars fill up my eyes   Galaxies Pour down my cheeks Galaxies   Galaxies They flood the street Galaxies   When we dance When we dance Eels and sea grass float on by   I? m ten thousand leagues Beneath the sea Ten thousand leagues   Ten thousand leagues Beneath the green Ten thousand leagues   When we kiss When we kiss Bears and boulders Vibrate through the air   Gravity Is dead you see No gravity   All I need Is beating red No gravity   No gravity No gravity   No gravity No gravity   No gravity No gravity  

8/24/25 I'm around, albeit less frequently. I am still looking for a FT sub/slave, with a big focus on working beside me, as my hands. A sub in my Home will be well cared for, with a level of D/s and kink that helps keep them motivated. If you enjoy house and yard work, there's plenty to stay busy, or if you're able and want to work from home or here in the Denver area, that's an option.  Long-term position is also a possibility, which means my extra-long set of questions may be the most important job application you ever complete.  It's not for the faint of heart... Then again, neither am I. 😈

During a visit to a local dungeon venue this past Saturday I had one of the best interactions with a submissive female that I have experienced in a very long time. She was slightly younger, dressed to accentuate her lovely sexy curves and her quite striking face was highlighted with bright ruby red supple lips. She was there with her male companion who shared her love of submission and alternate lifestyles as her long time loving and caring dominant. After some casual conversation and judging by my obvious leather fetish attire and black high heel boots, she asked if I was a Domme and if I had experience and enjoyed impact play. After acknowledging our common interests and my proclivity for such things, she felt comfortable enough to display the several fading bruises on both her breasts saying how much she loved earning them as badges of honor. Seeing my totally accepting expression she handed me her phone and asked for my contact information. At that moment we shared a slight touch of our hands and a long intriguing glance as we went on with our somewhat teasing and playful conversation. That obvious intense sensual connection, the kind that sets you back immediately had been established for whatever reason and we both could sense it. The night was quickly coming to an end and just before leaving she asked her partner for one last thing, permission to give herself to me! I could hear her whisper softly...please I want her! After some mutual agreement we all moved to the private flogging bench where she assumed the position on her stomach, legs spread open and straddling the sides. An amazing sight of her vulnerability as I handed the small assortment of leather floggers and crops to her dominant telling him to begin and warm her up. After a moment or two of rather sharp strikes and slaps upon her ass and thighs which created quite an initial reaction from her, he literally handed the reins over to me and said take her! I thanked him for his amazing gift of her submission. My immediate first reaction was not to strike her even though he claimed she would be quite capable of sustaining any of my most punishing blows. Instead I reached up behind her head and slowly swept her hair from her beautiful illuminated face and ran my fingers softly through her long wavy hair gently stroking her face, neck and bare shoulders. In a sudden brisk movement I grabbed a fist full of hair pulling it back sharply while whispering to her that she would now have what she wanted so badly from me, to be taken! Whimpering slightly in response, I exposed the tender area behind her neck and top of her spine. Scratching my long fingernails down from her scalp to her lower back and under her arms she bucked up to receive my tactile probing. Rising up to meet my touches signaling her willingness to give herself over to me freely and without hesitation. Without warning I raised the short leather crop in my other hand and struck crisply that soft tender exposed place on her neck creating a loud and imposing crack. After repeated similar alternating actions mixed with sharp slaps to her upper inner thighs lasting several minutes, I could sense from her undulating movements, labored breathing and glazed look that she had slipped deeply into her euphoric place turning her slight painful whimpers into moans of pure pleasure! My repeated and relentless harsh and somewhat painful torments had clearly transported her there, completely and for a sustained period of time. There was no limit to her wanting, yet we ended finally with a pause, a caress and kiss to her reddened neck and shoulders and an fully encompassing embrace from them both. She admitted to never being that deep before and that my intense energy had caused her to become overwhelmingly aroused and was something she would eventually crave more! We both shared those feelings and desires as we hugged and kissed good night. Hopefully future chapters together with this amazing creature shall soon be written!

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. 

A Mistress Story The Mistress was known for her strict and unyielding command over her submissives. She was a woman of power and dominance, with a reputation for turning the most strong-willed men into obedient slaves.One day, a young man, curious and seeking a new experience, came across Mistresses domain. He was intrigued and decided to submit himself to her, hoping to experience the thrill of complete submission and surrender. Upon entering her dungeon, the submissive was immediately struck by the sensory overload. The sound of whips cracking, the scent of leather and wax, and the sight of Mistress in all her glory, dressed in a full leather outfit and wielding a riding crop."Welcome, my new sub," she said, her voice dripping with confidence and authority. "You have chosen to serve me and obey my commands, no matter how degrading or humiliating they might be. Failure to obey will result in punishment."the submissive nodded, eager to begin his training as Mistress submissive boy. She wasted no time, quickly binding and gagging him, and then blindfolding him for good measure."You will learn to obey my every command, without hesitation," she said, her voice low and menacing. "You will be used and abused, trained to be my perfect slave."Over the next few weeks, the submissive experienced a range of sensations and emotions, from the pain of being whipped and spanked, to the pleasure of being teased and edged. He was tied up in different positions, hogtied, chairtied, and even hung from the ceiling, his feet barely touching the ground.Despite the pain he endured,the submissive found himself craving more. He loved the feeling of powerlessness, of being completely at Mistresses mercy. He reveled in these humiliation, the degradation, the denial of his own desires.And when Mistress finally allowed him to climax, it was more intense than anything he had ever experienced. He screamed into his gag, his whole body shaking with pleasure."Good boy," Mistress said, her voice filled with satisfaction. "You are learning to serve me well."In the end, submissive discovered a side of himself he never knew existed. He learned to embrace his submission, to love the feeling of being used and abused, and to find pleasure in the pain. And he owed it all to Mistress his strict and unyielding mistress, who showed him a whole new world of pleasure and pain.

After talking with someone on here recently I've done a lot of thinking about my desire to submit and be bound. I had never really thought about how long I've felt that way or why. Looking back on my teen years I think I've always had a fascination with restraint. My first sexual dream revolved around me getting "caught" and bound up. Looking back I have a few memories where even when I was younger there was something about being restrained that appealed to me. Now, as an adult, I think my feelings now are rooted in my desire to be helpless. I'm fortunate enough to have had a safe life, and I've never been in a bad scenario where I was in significant danger, and I suspect that may have something to do with it. Regardless, I think my root desire is to be helpless, forced to trust another person and do what they say. Something about giving into that power and giving up total control is what I really want. i don't know fully, just been thinking about it recently and these are my first thoughts. Thanks everyone for teaching me more and helping me explore these feelings!

I'm a loving caring Domme seeking her sub for ltr.   You: available, devoted, educated, professional, well-off, well-rounded, Caucasian, attractive, publicly alpha, privately submissive, faithful, non-sissy, cuckold (non-negotiable). Need cuckoldress to pamper, obey, serve, worship, support, suffer for emotionally and physically. Ideal Situation: long-term relationship leading to marriage in TPE/Cuckold situation where cuckold is subjected to long-term sexual denial and chastity, reduced to slave-husband status in permanent service to me. You have to earn the status of husband before being a slave. I am not a slave master. Me: Petite 5'3" 120 lb sexy curves, African American Dom, the boss, business owner, attractive, caring considerate person but to my cuckold husband, I will keep always wanting more and begging to please me. Must be good looking, in shape and health conscious. I am all 3 of those so you must be too. I'm self employed and the boss. I live in New Jersey and I'm not looking nor will entertain long distance relationships. Must be in the NJ, Philly, or DE .  I'm willing to do some variations of the above in the way of physical appearance.  Although if you're extremely over weight or unhealthy, I'm not interested.  I dedicate a lot of time to keeping myself in shape and eating healthy foods.     I really want a person that I care about who needs to be dominated more than I need someone to treat cruelly just for the sake of being mean.  I prefer you be over 40, mature, health conscious, as I really want someone in great shape but at least be healthy and HWP.  The more successful you are, the more I want to dominate you. When you respond let me know about you, your past experiences or anything that's significant.  Messages with pics will be answered first, if I choose to answer at all.  One liners or "how may I serve you" will be erased.  hotwife, domme, poly, cuckold, cuckoldress, hot wife, domination

So, I am getting a lot of the same questions repeatedly… let me address some of them here. Let me start with a statement that will be an umbrella over many of these questions.  As stated in my profile, we gave up porn.  His struggle was giving up visual porn, mine was written porn.  I can see even now, in these questions, verses our life, how important it was that I gave up the written porn.  Our life, our play, or intimacy, was not defined by the world of BDSM labels.  It was organic.  There were no contracts, no plans, no agreements.  There was rarely any direction given, except in the moment, as needed for the moment.  Now I will try to explain further in answering some questions Q. Was my husband my “Master” “Dominate” “Sir”etc. A. My husband was my husband.  Most of the time I called him hun, sweetheart, darling.  If I know I had been sassy and pushed him too far and was getting myself into trouble, I might slip into a Sir to try to bail myself out, to try to show respect.  If he was giving me a direction during a punishment I might respond with a Yes Sir.  I was not necessarily instructed to do this, it happened organically.  I was raised in a home where Ma’am and Sir is a way you show respect.  Even teaching Sunday school I will refer to a kid as Sir when I want to get their attention, it is a common phrase in my vocabulary, and thus a natural one for me to use when it seemed appropriate with my husband.  Did I wander around the house asking “Sir” what he wanted for breakfast in front of our son… No. absolutely not.  Unless I was being totally sarcastic and playing around.  In which case, I was probably talking to our kid lol.  Q. Was my marriage a “1950’s”, “1960’s”, “Taken in Hand”, “Domestic Discipline” again with the BDSM community labels… A. Nope.  I would not call my marriage any of these.   Taken in Hand and Domestic Discipline in BDSM terms tend to imply something far more formal than what we had, and sometimes even imply religious cause, which as I have stated was absolutely not the case.  As far as Period “play”, this would probably imply I was also some awesome house keeper, cook, etc.  Some sort of naked kinky June Cleaver comes to mind, in nothing but my apron, dusting the house and making meals while caring for the kids.  Again, nope.  Our son has behavioral heath special needs and it took all I had to not lose my mind trying to deal with his needs, we went through a remodel, moved 3 times, my husband was often in and out of hospitals, even before he got really sick, as such, my house keeping was minimal quite often, meals were what we could manage in an active remodel. My husband often helped with domestic chores such as cooking, cleaning, laundry, when I eventually went back to work after our son was an adult and out of the home. Q. So, what are some examples of how our relationship remained within the faith, but we still enjoyed each other in this way? A. An example my husband sometimes gave when trying to explain it to someone was the example of a washing machine.  We need a new washing machine.  I do most of the laundry.  He doesn’t care if the machine is front loading or top loading, that is a preference I would care about.  His concern is cost.  He gives me a budget to work within.  I then do research on washers.  I find a few models I like and come back and discuss the pro’s and con’s with him.  Of course, they should have probably all been within the budget he allowed, but knowing me, I probably slipped one in that was bit over… After all, he can always just say no.  I will probably sell him on it though lol.  He adored me and spoiled me like that.  He always tried to give me anything I wanted if he could.  So, I then make the arrangements to buy the washer and have it delivered and installed.  So, as you see, it was a team effort.  However, the budget we were working with was up to him.  Honestly, could I have responsibly managed to buy a washer within budget without him, sure.  I hate to spend money like that though and probably would have allowed myself half the budget and gotten junk to be honest.  He helped to balance me like that. Q. So, this next question has come in a number of different forms, but at the end of the day, everyone is curious about the number one thing around this site.  Was I given correction for things, what form did that come in, and how did I feel about it? A. As I don’t read porn, I am certainly not about to sit here and write it for you.  The details of this is a conversation for after we get to know each other much better.  In short, yes, there absolutely was correction.  He was a very heavy handed man to be honest.  How did I feel about it?  Straight up, I am not a fan of pain in the moment.   I am not a “pain slut” you will never hear me scream out “thank you sir may I have another” lol.  I would do just about anything to avoid pain.  That being said, no physical restraints were ever needed.  I did as was told, took what I had coming when I had it coming.  No, I found zero pleasure in the moment.