Pyramus

A key point there is that kink in "this" marriage, is impossible. I had thought I could change her, maybe a decade or more ago, but, I was overly confident. It can't be done. At this point, for the past decade, we haven't even lived together and never have sex, let alone kinky sex (although, to her, kink would be a blowjob and even that is stretching her fetish limits). You may as well try to change the tides.

When I was younger, I tried.

Now, I know how impossible a task that is.

Here's to hoping I meet someone who is as much in need of me as I am of her.

I long for you! We simply need to meet and enjoy our friendship together.

Would love to meet a married woman, who is interested in enjoying herself in D/s play!

Happy New Year! Home alone, seeking married understanding caring kinky friends.
Am alone, a bit lonely on New Year's Eve. Can't lie about that.

Watching the TV isn't my thing (don't even own one), so, there's not much to do. Don't drink much, but, sipped a glass of Pinot Noir, for old times sake. Toasted myself, and my wife. She's out with her friends, can't begrudge her that, don't mind it so much, as I'm a basically happy guy, and, well, I just, well, just feel kind of out of place tonight. Dunno why. Just do.

Something, don't know exactly what, drew me to here. I guess, I don't know, I guess I'm seeking a connection. A bit of warmth. A spark. A moment of companionship. But hell, everyone is out partying. Good for them! Good for everyone. Life is, and was always, about people. Happy people. Loving people. That's all good.

I'm always a happy person - with a set point in the smiling range - I don't get much happier than normal - and rarely lower than normal either. But, today, it's just, well, just a bit ... lonely.

Wonder... must be someone out there, in the 7 million folks in the San Francisco Bay Area, who is in a similar situation. Right now. Right here. Just before the clock turns the page. Something to look forward to in the coming year perhaps?

I'm confident the happiness of life - which is our feelings - can't be kept in the dark tonight - we - you perhaps - certainly me - must spring forth, like a flower blossoming in the wintry rains. Spreading its petals. Lapping up the droplets - catching them as they fall. Enveloping them in its arms. Will you be that flower that I reach toward? Can you be that flower? Is it meant to be?

Are you out there? In the teeming millions. Do you even exist?
Nay, even if you do (and you must, you must - I just know you must), is it within you? Within your situation? Within your bounds? Within our grasp?

Nod. A wry smile befalls my lips. Yes. It must be. It must be so. You, who read this - you - the one who connects with my words - my hands - my thoughts - my feelings - my emotions - my warmth - - - your warmth - together - closer - hearts skip a beat - the warmth and softness that is your flesh - the smile that is your lips - the glow that is your feminine mind - yes - to you ... TO YOU - I tip my glass, and sip my wine ... this lovely New Years Eve!

Happy New Year!

Cyber Monday! Time to order some cuffs and other toys for Christmas!

A bit lonely today. Would love someone to talk to.

The only requirement is that I be in control.

I'd do the stripping! Indeed, owning your meekly submissive body & soul is all the fun stuff.

The ability to take my sweet time with you, and with you being open minded enough to just stand there, bound or unbound, as I enjoy  every inch of your body is what I desire - licking and caressing where I may - without you putting up words of protest. 

I'll spend hours on all the delicate details.  I enjoy controlling your orgasmic delight - and, like any guy, thrusting deeply inside you, as much as fondling those lovely breasts, and kissing your soft lips. A woman is so delicious that every part of you has its erotic hints. I'd spell the alphabet with my tongue on your clit, lapping out the letters, A, B, C, D, E, .... and by the time I got to Z, you should be nicely warmed up for another go through, and another. 

All you'd need to do is 'happily resign' yourself to me. That 'is' what I like. I like being able to touch you when and where I want, and for as long as I want.

I can envision taking you behind closed doors. Your eyes averted to the floor, hands at your side at first, pensive but wanting to please. I sidle up to you for your first "inspection", you're still clothed, in a skirt and button-down blouse, your modesty intact, as I drink in your sights. "Eyes closed" I assert, "head down", but you're unsure how to respond, this is so new and unfamiliar to you. "Just do as I say', I gently command, and you still hesitate.

Softly but purposefully, I take your hands and move them to the small of your back, perhaps I loop a soft fur-lined cuff around each wrist to keep them there, out of the way. You're about to blurt out a protest, but my finger crosses your lips, in that ssshhhhhsss kind of way, where the tip lingers on your moist lips, tracing the outline and feeling your quiver ever so slightly as I do so.

At this point, you're mine. All mine. To take my sweat time with, by enjoying your inherent femininity, in your sweet scents, your little high-pitched whimpers, the squirm of your thighs, the softness of your tits, your small supple lips, your long hair wrapped in my hands, the erectness of your nipples, the moistness between your legs, ... yay ... hundreds of sweet feminine clues ... all mine to enjoy for as long as I like!

You come to my house you are only to refer to me as Sir. You should answers my questions with either "Yes Sir" or "No Sir" unless I ask you to describe in more detail. You should not look me in the eyes when you are in my room but look down at the floor in a submissive posture. You are expected to do as you are told at all times without questioning. I may ask you to strip and show yourself to me. You may be blindfolded and lightly spanked over my knee and asked to perform certain sexual tasks on me. You should expect to be intimately touched. I will expect you to obey my commands but I have no interest in humiliation or pain. This is more about an adventure and fantasy. If there is any sex I will be using protection.

It's not about the D/s formalities; it's about the friendship and personalities - and then - only then, about the sweet submissiveness, which, to me, is the essence of femininity.

What I enjoy, first and foremost, is the moaning of a woman in ecstasy while under my control., It helps if she's bound and blindfolded, as you're even further under my control, and you're mine to play with for hours on end, should we decide that.

Let me know if that fits what you enjoy.

For many of you lovely submissive ladies, I fully understand that we're not for each other lest I divorce and find you on my own  To understand what's going on in my head regarding that, you must view my recent thread, posted on a lonely New Year's, of all times, explaining the internal dichotic struggle in my mind regarding marital status.

- New Years Resolution

Ah, to be a Roman back in the days of Rome!

Yes, indeed. The perfect slave is trained to be obedient and to enjoy giving pleasure. I would train mine, for example, in my Roman villa, to wear revealing robes that I can lift the hemlines of to view their tits and ass at my convenience.

They would be trained, perhaps bound at the ankles so they were clumsy at movement, wrists tied behind, perhaps a bell or two hanging off their teats, and maybe one in the cunt. Every time they moved, they'd feel the cold brass bell against their warm moist flesh, tinkling embarrassingly, as their sex moves about.

My morning blowjob has to be exactly how I like it, and, if she does her job well, I might even, near the end, grab her hair and force her as deeply on my huge cock as possible, feeling the gag reflex of the back of her throat tighten on the shaft as I hold it there to cum straight down into her. She would know better than to spill a drop of my seed, and, if she did, she'd quickly lick it up and swallow, lest I decide she need the lash to quicken her pace.

She would also know, by now, to give my now limp cock additional soft loving caresses with her tongue and hands and lips, as the bj is only the first half of the worship of the Lord's manhood.

There is a study about narcissists ... where they concluded that narcissists are just like normal people when they're complimented (i.e., their ego is inflated), but they act viscously in retort when their idea of themselves is questioned.

The study went like this (and it's available on youtube were I to look for it):
a. Volunteers for some study were not told what the study was (single blind)
b. All were given a questionnaire which was meant to id the narcs (e.g., If I were king of the world, would it be a better place for all?)
c. Two groups were selected, unbeknownst to the narcs (narcs, and normal people)
d. All were asked to write an essay and all were graded by a flip of the coin into A or F with "great job" & "worst I've ever seen" correspondingly written in red.
e. Then the narcs were allowed to send sound volume for a period of time to show the hidden grader what their feelings were.
f. The conclusion was there were four data sets - three of which acted normally with respect to sound volume and time given to the grader.

Normal: non-narcs who were graded high, non-narcs who were graded low, and narcs who were graded high
Evil: narcissists who were graded low

Someone wrote to me about how to identify fake profiles, and this was my response:

Your search experience here will depend a lot on whom it is you search for, and who you are yourself - but it will always mirror numerical reality.

Fundamentally, men hunt, women weed.

Let's talk men first (since I know one rather well):

This is not a great place for your average Dom or top to meet a sub or slave, primarily because of the astoundingly overwhelming number of men essentially similar to you looking for women essentially similar to whom you're seeking.

But it's no different than anywhere else where the entrance fee is similarly nil.

For example, do a search right now on the Craigslist's personal section (the whole set) for your area for "submissive, m4w" versus "submissive, w4m".
I just ran that search in the San Francisco Bay Area where the sheer number of hits for the former predictably went on for pages while the paltry few hits of the latter numbered a mere dozen. Keeping in mind CL allows female posters to last far longer than male, the breathtaking odds against you are even further skewed to your disadvantage.

Add to your disproportionate numbers game the startling proportion of disingenuous female profiles, and your task becomes dauntingly disappointing.

Most people assume the number of deceitful female profiles is rather low simply because they can only easily spot the obvious ones using common sense (which, in and of themselves, is a surprisingly huge number); however, a judicious paste of even the normal-looking profile photos into a google reverse image search will quickly reveal the vast majority of female profile photos within certain age ranges and weight limitations to actually be misappropriated from the net.

We men have it hard - but thats why we're men. It never was easy - it never will be easy - and, well, we have to fight with the tools we have, against thousands of other men at the same time, to obtain the love and devotion of the women of our dreams. It's what being a man means.

Lest you conclude the women have it easy, realize they have a different obstacle to success due to the same reality of numbers.

I won't presume to ever fully understand women, nor what their difficulties are seeking men, so, from my basic uneducated 'male' perspective, I discern only what's painfully obvious to all.

For women, the numbers game appears, at first, wondrously skewed in the other direction. A female submissive or slave within the same age ranges and weight limitations posted above for the male search will receive hits from we men even before they finish completing their initial profile questionnaire, and those incessant hits will rapidly continue, filling up many pages of their bulk filters within a week and growing at a slowly decreasing rate until most of the men who would message them have given up - leaving only the clueless newbies to continue the onslaught

Finding a man, is absolutely no problem whatsoever for women. It's finding the 'right' man out of those thousands, which is the daunting task for them. Given your typical Bell curve of men out there, most are average (by definition) in, say, intelligence or wealth or masculinity or whatever women are looking for (bear in mind I don't presuppose I actually understand women so I'm only stating the obvious here). Lest it not be obvious to all, a vast majority of men looking for women are, ahem, also married or in existing relationships.

Because women have often shown to be vastly more complex than men (have you read the recent "Why Women Have Sex" by Meston & Buss for example?) I perhaps less convincingly refer again to Craigslist to bolster my suppositions.

Reading women's ads, you'll quickly discern a definite list of filters where their ad is trying to discard the inevitable backlog of unwanted and unwashed responses before they even arrive. These elimination filters vary but a "not married" "have a job" theme is prwhether that be experience, maturity, intelligence, or what, I'm not exactly sure).

The problem for women has been, since the beginning of time, that hoards of marauding men with or without suckling babies at home have always sought them. But women have learned, generally through bad experiences, that men are somewhat less than truthful in their profiles too. In fact, a huge number of the guileful female profiles are actually from men, who, for whatever reason in their pursuit, create the profile as part of their promiscuous hunt. I would assume that lesbian females are particularly on the lookout for this common deception.

Having said all that, the only concise summary I can offer is that men hunt, women weed, and both have to deal with an enormous amount of duplicity in the process. However - just as the maxim "men rape, women rob" or "men seek sex, women desire love", are untrue in their simplicity, so is my entire admonition above.

This is a message, written to 'you' but I haven't met you yet ... so I'm writing a note to you, to ask you how you 'feel' being a submissive.

 What do you, as a true submissive, whose brain is wired permanently that way, truly feel when you enjoy being enjoyed as a pleasure slave, a pet, or as a plaything.

 For example, do you enjoy having someone watch you be punished. I envision me watching, for example, with someone stroking my cock with her hand and/or mouth as I enjoy watching you being whipped or spanked. That would be the perfect evening entertainment. Who would ever need TV if we all had that! As for me, I don't think I enjoy being watched - maybe I'd be self conscious - but it's great to know that you enjoy that. I wonder why? I think you have in you what all women must have, at least in some way - which is the desire to be looked at. Men, to be sure, have it too - but not for what they look like so much as for what they do. At least this is my untested uneducated unproven current theory. Nonetheless, it's good to know you enjoy being watched - even if I don't quite understand the meaning of why.
  Do you enjoy being helpless? If so,  you must tell me more of how 'that' feels. I, for one, would hate being helpless. It's my biggest fear perhaps. But, on the flip side, I absolutely adore having a lady bound and helpless and all within my grasp. Literally, I think that's the sexiest thing in the world - a helpless naked woman - willing to be obedient (for she will be punished otherwise) - with the ability to be trained (which, I'm sure, anyone would be given the right punishment).
  Do you have a pizza-delivery fantasy. You must not be the only one 'cuz there are porn movies galore about the pizza guy. It would be interesting to explore that feeling you have of showing off your red welts to the crowd. They have a public humiliation site where they parade naked and bound women through the public streets of some eastern european country. I like it - but mostly because of the women. It would be nice to know if you'd like that too. It would be interesting to hear how you feel when your welts are being shown off to others.
   I have no doubt your brain is hard wired for all of this. This is why it would be so nice to get to know you and to be able to ask you these quite-personal sexual questions, without you worrying that I'm coming on to you. So, you can answer truthfully - as we'd probably never have sex - but we'd be true friends - who enjoy the same thing. So it would be fantastic to be able to converse with you on this level. I'm sure I can 'find' someone
else to converse with - but then you never know if you're really chatting with a guy playing as a gal. Sheesh. There's too much of that out there. It's would be so nice to take you to coffee and dinner to better get to know you - to then have played with you to get to feel you - and to be able to ask you these deep exploringly interesting questions about the wiring of your brain - as you see and feel it.

  Do you enjoy being a pleasure pet? The movie, "The Pet" is (mostly) a wonderful movie of how a woman wants dearly to be owned and cared for and loved - and for the most part, the movie does a really sensual job of building up her character. It helps that she walks around naked like a dog at times (oooh so sexy). But, the movie, in the end, is ruined because they added a sinister human-trafficking plot that they just didn't need to add. So, it's mostly good for the first half, and then you turn it off for the second. :)
  For some reason, for me, the turn on of having a loyal pet is just so sexy. It has to be almost the kind of relationship you have with your dog though - adding, of course, the sensual part (which I hope you don't have with the dog). You love your pet. You take care of your pet. Yet, you keep your pet in her place and expect her to be obedient when commanded. Ah, if only I could have my own slave girl. I'd know exactly how to train her to be a loyal pet.
  Do you identify with spanking films? As for the Lupus films, I know them well but I don't bother to remember any of the names of the actresses. Still, I love Lupus (Rig East is what I think they're called now) and I love Mood Pictures (which is rougher stuff  but of the same genre). It's great when I can imagine that the women being caned either love it or if they're forced to do it. I'm sure they really do it for the money - but some do it
over and over again - so they must not be un-enjoying it all that much. Either that, or they 'really' need the money - as those canings are very hard. I do so very much love to see their pussy squirm when they get hit. How does it feel to you when you're smacked?
  By the way, I think 'that' is the allure. Really. I think all we men love to, whether we know it or not, have a woman squirming for us, in some way, shape or form. Mostly, in the vanilla sense, we love to feel a woman orgasm below us (which is why we hate faking most of all). We want her to FEEL us. We want to fill her with cum. We want her to KNOW we've been inside of her - and to walk bow-legged for a week, after we fuck her. So, in a way, I think (and I'm not a bona fide psychologist!) ... I think we like to see a woman squirm from a good spanking in the same way that we want them to squirm while being fucked. I really think this. But, of course, it's too complex even for me to fully understand. I do know that "I" love to see a woman squirm while I slap her tits about (yummy) or smack her ass. It's just so ... well, so erotic to see the flesh redden and react to my transgressions.
  I guess the naughty aspect of it plays a role too - but I've heard that folks think about their childhood - but for me, having been spanked a lot as a kid doesn't seem to play a role (at least not to my conscious knowledge).
  Do you have a special someone? Someone who adores and reveres you even as he spanks you raw? There are very few women who enjoy the kink as compared to men. How do I know? Simple. Just type "submissive" into the Craigslist search engine. You'll literally get hundreds (maybe even a thousand) from the m4w side, and maybe two or three (most of which are pros or scams) on the 24m side. It's just the way it is - but it's good for you. To be sure, as a loyal sub, you 'are' special. And rare. Any man should treat you like a jewel - whose bottom may need to be polished from time to time - and a jewel to be treated well at all other times. Trust me on that.
  Do you prefer the leather strap or the wooden paddle. Why? I must buy one myself - to add to my toy bag - and I wonder what type to get. I'm leaning toward leather. I assume a few inches wide (maybe 3 or 4 inches) and perhaps rather thick, like an eight of an inch or so? I wonder where you get this stuff. All of mine is from an adult boutique or I made my own. A leather strap shouldn't be too hard to make. I enjoy making sex toys - I even get slightly hard as I make them, as I've done with ball gags and collars.
  Do your fantasies include 'regular' punishments? I'd like to know more about that. Are you, perhaps, a 24/7 style submissive without being overtly so? I guess it goes along with being a pet and/or a slave - both of which would receive regular punishments. But still, it's an intriguing idea. Your idea of a regular schedule with videotaping is also very intriguing. It's the ownership of your bottom, I think, that's so enticing in that fantasy. Is it not?

I'd love to know the answers to these admittedly probing questions!

What I enjoy is controlling your body through your kitty! My mouth deeply kissing and slurping away sensually at your pussy, licking out the alphabet, "A", "B", "C", "D", ... "a", "b", "c", etc., on and on, licking up each of those lovely shaved folds, and down the other side, making loops and circles around your clitoris, teasing it, ever so temptingly, and then digging with the tip of my warm tongue under the hood, lapping at the very clitoris itself, and sucking it into my mouth, as if it's the center nipple of your soul! All the while I'm nibbling at your pussy, your arms bound behind you and a ballgag and blindfold concentrating your senses, my arms are wrapped around your spread eagle thighs, upward toward your luscious tits (I like to call 'em tits when thinking of them in a sensual sense, these are "my" tits), all the while my hands are fondling your lusciously soft tits. I like to own your body, and to control your orgasm. You, for your part, need only be there and to be you. Nothing else is required. Just obediently and without fuss allow me to have my way with you. You'll always enjoy what I do, and, I'll enjoy controlling your orgasmic delight. I really get off on owning your orgasm, and I love to see you writhing in pleasure. It has to be real though, as fake oooh and ahs are not appealing at all. I'd rather you were quiet than faking it. I guess that's the wonder of binding you and blindfolding you so that this is making you lusciously helpless to my carnal desires and delights!

Truth be told, I miss those butterflies in your stomach when, in the morning, you realize we'll be getting together later that afternoon, or the satisfied feeling afterward, as if you were dancing on air on the way home. Yet, it's also, in our situations, a solution to the existing situation, which, is to add only that which is missing - yet - without complicating things. In fact, the goal is to actually 'simplify' the situation, in so much as the excitement is lost - but it can be regained elsewhere - without turning the table upside down otherwise. Having both of us being married means we both understand what the other is going through.

Yet, having said all that, life is too short to go without that which we need, desire, and deserve. What's the solution? Is there a solution? Well, one is to expend the supreme effort in the current relationship to improve the thrill - yet - in reality, for two reasons that isn't going to happen. First, and foremost, we've already tried. Both you, I'm sure, and me. It's time to cut our losses in that direction. The other reason is that there 'is' a certain inescapable excitement when going out for the first, second, third, etc. time with someone new and different. Someone who 'responds'; someone who kisses; caresses; fondles, pets, whispers, and overall is passionate again. (Note: I'm Italian, so, passion is something that is just part of me.)

Yet, we lead separate and dual lives. What is the solution. I, like you, feel there 'is' a solution. Divorce, while it has always been an option that is discussed, is not in the cards (it's just trading one green grass for another over the fence, at least with kids in the house). Believe it or not, it's actually 'better' for the marriage to have an affair outside the marriage. I've spoken to my wife about that, and she is ok with it - under the provisions that it's undercover and she doesn't want to know anything about it - nor should the kids. We haven't slept together in a decade. She has no feelings for sex. Period. None. She has no vibrator. We've 'never' done cunnilingus. You can't touch her breasts. It's crazy. But that's what it is. I didn't make this situation, nor did you yours.

Let me know a bit about your situation. You'll find me level headed, very stable, very sane, well educated, well spoken, well traveled (had various sales jobs), a good lover, and, well, the word is passionate in the boudoir. There is just something scintillatingly delicious about kissing like there's no tomorrow, caressing like you're the softest most beautiful person in the world, and licking licking licking. I 'miss' licking a lovely set of rose petals, twirling my long strong tongue (my dentist says it's 'overdeveloped') for an hour, lapping at your very folds, tasting your sweet nectar, and - more importantly - causing you to spasm in orgasmic delight (I hope you're multi-orgasmic), time and time again before I even consider my own deviously selfish needs! :)

I would love to spell Shakespeare on your clit with my tongue, and to learn new techniques and approaches to bring you, at my control, to the level of orgasmic peak, and, then to keep you there for as long as I possibly can. I really enjoy the entire sensation of 'owning' your orgasm. I guess it's the testosterone fueled desires inside of me, but I really want to be one who brings you to orgasm every time. I want you to go home with your legs quivering and feeling week, and when you, at last, lay down in bed, that you lie there, and silently think pleasant thoughts of all that has been that day - and all that may be tomorrow.

The word "submissive" is a wonderfully femininely subtle thing when looking for someone local with a like-minded persona, as this is a sincere search for a wilder-than-vanilla lady, who enjoys being enjoyed. Everything here is entered by stream of conscious thoughts, all of which are aimed to find a graceful mermaid who enjoys being the objective that I enjoy - and I write prolificatlly particularly when I'm in an especially erotically passionate mood (which more and more so lately is all the time). While these nuance-filled words come, essentially unfiltered, from the center of my brain, down to my fingers into the text - I prefer the passionate embrace of physical closeness. What I desire is a woman who enjoys being 'owned', at least temporarily, and controlled, and enjoyed, and played with as the sole object of my desire. In the quiet of the evening, I would have you role play, serving sensuously what I perceive to be the lusciousness of your smooth curves. Like a mermaid both captive in the warm turquoise ocean yet free to roam the seven seas, you would be 'mine' while we're together, yet wholly free to roam as you see and feel fit otherwise. While we're in the same room, I would expect you to be subservient and obedient to my sensual whims, which, rest assured, are that of a soft caring Top. Mostly I enjoy "control" and "ownership" of your lovely body. It really doesn't matter what you look like, per se, although I will run my strong hands and tongue on every inch of your delicately bound body, from the classic curve of your eyebrows to the softness of your thighs, and everything in between - kissing and caressing - tracing out every line and crevice, particularly the warm tasty ones where my tongue will spell Shakespeare on your cliteral folds while your body is beautifully bound in helplessness. I love to inspect and explore you. Many women, for example, have body jewelry, such as belly piercings, which are delicious to tingle my tongue upon. My fingers will teasingly trace the symmetric pattern of your aureole around your nipples, for example. I will admire your mind and your body, with you playing the role in the boudoir of pleasing submissive slave girl and making yourself available to me periodically. I must state I'm a regular vanilla guy 24/7. It's just in the closeness and safe comfort of the indoors with a like minded lady, my D/s self can roam at will with your mind and body. Of course, you have to appeal to me and I must be what you envision - and I'm comfortable that, if we don't hit it off, that's OK, and I will still be gracious with you.  I wouldn't wish to foist myself upon anyone unwillingly (except perhaps in a playful safe, sane, & consensual scene). Luckily, you'll find me easy on the eyes, as I imagine you to be also - but your looks are merely a bonus to hope that the thoughts and desires in your mind fit nicely into the puzzle pieces I am painting here of mine. I envision you to be a bright-smiled lady who can be as comfortable covered up to the neck in casual business attire as you would be deliciously exposed and naked, with only your earrings, and other body adornments decorating your obedient and open-minded person. Given all that above, if I've struck a chord in your persona, provide me with some particulars and we can move forward from there. Ciao

The toys in the toy bag are the standard D/s toys, which everyone has who is a Dom. I'm actually a Top more so than a Dom, which is a softer approach. For me, I want to restrain you so that the only thing you can think about is your clit and then I want to play with it, from soft, to hard, and back to soft again. I do really want to get to know you - but I first want to get to know your clit. How it responds. How it makes you feel. It's control of your clit I want. So I'd want to blindfold and tie you so that the only thing you can do is think about your pussy. If you don't want that, let me know now as we don't want to waste anyone's time or erotic energy. No worries if that's not for you. But you MUST be totally obedient, meek, and submissive to me if we get together. I have to own you. You would be my slave. Of course, we'll always be totally safe. It's all about the eroticism. What would be best is for me to train you, so to speak, by stripping you naked and blindfolding you and tying your hands behind you so that I can touch just your tits and ass at my leisure. Slowly. And exploringly. I would also like to tell you to assume positions, dangle your ass up in the air, jiggle your tits, maybe even dance for me. Whatever I want you to do that gives me pleasure to watch. It's experiencing and owning another person that I want.  I will always ensure your total safety and I don't want to hurt you - but I do want to own you. You will be and feel safe in my hands, trust me on that. But certainly do NOT do this unless you're willing to be enjoyed, and to do what I say to do.

D/s play can be joyous, sexy, thrilling. For me, it is often easy and light and fun. When we are a well matched pair the yoke you wear is usually light. But you are a slave who needs a Master who owns you. When He calls you to obey, it is His right to do so, and there is no question as to the how or why at that point. The slave does not judge that. The filters that apply to other relationships do not apply to D/s play. It is a difficult distinction in some ways. You may quiver and you do struggle. It is what I choose. Ultimately, it is what you are and how you are best.

When you are in the middle of it all and enjoying yourself immensely as you should, take a moment and look at your slave who is providing pleasure just for you, she is taking this because you want it and because she wants to be a good slave to you. She is the heroine in the room, not you, even if you are the one who is in control. Never forget this, ever

To give over ALL control to someone else and to TAKE all control, is what this is about and what drives it. The rest is training, use and abuse is just the way forward to this main goal. Or what do you think?

While I'm not new to D/s enjoyment, I'm like a kid in the candy shop when my imagination goes on its romantic mission of 'owning' a willing pleasing submissive. So the finest four words ever heard were "I want to please", as there are no sexier thoughts possible. Of course, being willing to learn is also exceedingly exciting to know, as I'd love to own, to train, and to teach you to visit your subspace often, to learn, to obey, to please, and to enjoy.

Like many, my everyday life is normal and is filled with learning new things; I've traveled the world (Beijing, Tokyo, Singapore, Sao Paulo, Munich, Rome, Athens, Haifa, George Town, etc.) and have never ever been bored a single day in my life. Lonely ... yes. Alone in a sea of people... yes. Missing close warm affection. .. yes. But never bored.
Were we together, and you a willing submissive, I would thoroughly enjoy training and teaching and guiding you in the ways of the submissive slave girl. Oh, what a joy that would be.

In general (which means someone will say it doesn't apply to them), the visual appears to be the guy's imaginative domain - while the literary appears to 'activate' the female.

Speaking for the perverted imaginative guy inside of me - and linking the topic of imaginative BDSM, what I 'imaginate whenever I "see" any woman, is her subbing to me. It could simply be a lecturing prim-and-proper teacher whom I wish to spank, unbeknownst to her, a helpful store clerk that I would tell to lift her skirt as she bows to me in my mind but who is trying to sell me something; an innocent but sexy bystander who, perhaps never even sees me but who, in my mind, is already kneeling as she starts to crawl toward me in submission, or even a measly little 2-dimensional 640x480 pixel color photograph of a bound model who, in my mind, instantly comes to life as a barbie doll does to a child - as one who has already suffered numerous D/s indignities and is bound to suffer 'smore wholly at my beck and command.

Such is the power of my perverse D/s imagination in play!

I'm married to vanilla. Well, even worse than vanilla. Let's call it super duper you can't believe how vanilla is vanilla. She's wholly scared by D/s play. It would never cross her mind to own a toy, any toy ... nor to assume any position other than mish ... and even then ... to ever change in tempo or angle. I used to think she was frigid - but she can orgasm fine as long as nothing changes from that single position, tempo, timing, and duration. No touching mind you. Just fucking. No whispering sweet nothings (they are a distraction to her), no changing the angle or rhythm ... nope. It has to be one way, that way, always the same -- all the time.

Now, me, being the cocky overconfident bastard that I am, I marry her knowing (most) of this. But I imagine that I can change her. Sure, we're very much in love (for many things outside of sex), and now we have lovely children and a very religious family outside of our one family unit. I am so sure I can change her that I keep trying and trying and trying and trying and trying and trying (you get the point).

At some point, even though you're in love ... you have to BOTH admit that you're just wired differently. It's not her fault. It's not mine. It's 'our' fault, you might say, for getting married (which I pushed for ... she didn't). But it is what it is.

In the end (ten years or so later and about five years or so ago), after marriage counseling and talking with friends and affairs and all that stuff ... we decided (i.e., we realized) the 'problem' was nothing more complicated than we were wired differently. We agreed she could do what she wants to do ... and I could do what I want to do. We bought a huge home where we are floors apart from each other when we sleep - yet we interact 'normally' in all other aspects in the relationship. She balked when I wanted to bring a favored submissive into the boudoir with her around - so we arrange things, by agreement, so that we're discreet (mostly me, as she could live her entire live w/o sex and be perfectly happy). Again, it's not a matter of blame or fault ... it's simply and purely a matter of wiring.

Long story short: If you are wired so differently than he ... then you and he will need to realize that - and realize you won't (likely) change - so you need to factor that into the 'rules of engagement' for satisfying your D/s inclinations.

It works for us - but only because neither wants a divorce purely over sexual incompatibility (we are great friends and parents otherwise).
Only you can know if that will work for you! (Note: Most would divorce over it.)

PS: Now I know why men hire prostitutes. It's simple. Their wives simply don't meet their needs. Period. It's not any more complicated than that. You can 'argue' their needs are high - and I won't disagree - but the plain fact is that you will eventually get what you need - and if your spouse isn't giving it to you - eventually (days, weeks, months, year after year) - then you 'will' get it ... just not from your spouse.

My imagination in D/s play is heightened the hornier I am - and then virtually disappears from the moment of orgasm throughout the refractory period. Then my imagination builds up yet again ... and the longer it goes ... the more imaginative I get ... till the cycle renews.

Now I know why the basic telephone still suits me better than computer'esque chat!

I tried to chat with someone just now, and it took me a while to simply figure out 'why' the chat button wasn't there. Apparently it only shows up when we're both mutually online. That explains why I 'thought' I had seen it but that I couldn't find it. Computers are supposed to be my work slaves, so, I'll need to punish the computer for that transgression! If only I could!  :)

It would be be pleasurable to think of you, the reader, as my very own slave girl. One who has full promise, but yet, at the same time, one who hasn't yet experienced the true delights of being owned by another ... used as a pleasure slave - and trained as a beloved pet - yet one who likely hasn't yet even realized that she can be wholly free simply by being led to please another ... and who, herself, is fulfilled by pleasuring an appreciative partner, at his very beckoning.

One thing I love is to tie you up helpless and then tease the hell out of you, whether it be your sensitive nipples or your aroused kitty - but you can't do a thing about it. That's the beauty of bondage. I own you and I love owning your orgasm! I live for that kind of control! What do YOU love about orgasm control? How do you enjoy it best?

Indeed. Yes, you too have needs! The lovely beauty of the male:female Top:bottom Master:slave Owner:chattel relationships is that needs are met for both, or the relationship stagnates.

I think back in history - to the times where the Romans owned their slaves, and even they took care of the slaves' basic needs, e.g., food, clothing and shelter (albeit as they would chattel). In my imagination, you're my cherished 'property' which is to be used for sure, and enjoyed for what it is, but also to be cared for just as one maintains a horse in the stable. Nobody questions that the horse must do what it is directed to do - but it is still cared for, fed, nursed when ill, and comforted and congratulated when performing well.

Were you, for example, to use your oral skills to perfection, you would be praised - and at the same time, were you to not be submissive enough, then you would feel the crop on your backside. It would be as natural as how we handle our dogs that you'd be well taken care of, and your needs met, as well as mine. Mine would be to own you and control you and give you pain and pleasure as necessary, always intertwined, yet to, in a way, own and control your brain, your thoughts as much as your actions, as it is so pleasurable to think of one who wishes to please - who desires to be praised for her ability to bring a man to the heights of orgasmic pleasure - and - who, helplessly bound before me - is brought to orgasmic release time and time again - at my bidding - at my will - at my pleasure, as it would be.

Ah, such is delight!

We all have something to think about, something deep inside our persona to explore...

It turns out whatever questions you have - I should have the exact opposite. If you're uncomfortable being owned - I should be just as uncomfortable owning a human. It's two sides of the same coin. If you feel pain at the whip - I should feel pleasure at delivering the punishment. You should feel the need to pleasure as much as I feel the need to be pleasured.

In my opinion, that's how a Master:slave relationship should be. I use the word slave but submissive would work as well in the D/s sense. You should feel the embarrassment of presenting your entire body for pleasure just as much as I feel the desire to enjoy the sight and feeling of owning every inch of you.

I wouldn't know whether you are thick or thin, tall or short, white or black, so I can't yet visualize exactly how I'd enjoy your body but that's what you have to offer - just as I have my mind to lead you. Your tongue for pleasure, mine for commands. Your eyes for submission, mine for direction. And at it's most basic level, your holes for access, mine to fill them. The whole dynamic can be simplified down to your body for me, and my control for you.

For me, slave versus submissive is the same thing. Even bisexual versus heterosexual is the same with respect to a woman. If you enjoy women, I would probably make use of your nature to invite another submissive for example. Whether slave or submissive, you would still reap the benefits of control and ownership. The key, to me, is ownership. As chattel. After that, the style whether slave or submissive is not important. I think of slave as 24/7 while submissive is more playful than that. Personally, I can see owning someone either way - but I'm more playful myself than 24/7 so the slavery is mostly role playing in the boudoir.

Genetically, your brain is wired to be submissive. Everyone, in a way, is wired as a herd animal. Take, for example, how we all follow the written law. We go to school as children and sit at our seats listening to the teacher. Any rebellious youths are eventually controlled - or they are expelled. We follow the pack ourselves, all of us. By our very nature. There is safety in following the herd. Take for example, parking the car in the inner city. Would we park at night on a dark and empty street where we were the only vehicle? Or do we seek the line of cars along a well-lit thoroughfare where our vehicle is nestled among the rest of them. Which do we feel safer?

BTW, given I believe in the historical nature of slavery and submission, it would be helpful to know where your roots lie. Are you northern European or Mediterranean or African or Asian or IndoEuropean, etc. That way I can construct a potential history for you in my mind - which helps me understand you better.

Also, what service do you feel you excel at performing, whether that be oral skills or hand skills or whatever. What is it, that you feel you are best at, in the boudoir? For example, given two slaves to choose from, and only given one chance to display your sensual skills against the other potential slave, what skill would you offer on your own to prove your worth?

I do truly care about others - and, truth be told, if you are slightly uncomfortable with yourself for yearning to be a pleasure slave, I should by all rights be just as concerned about wanting to own a human being merely as my cherished chattel, to use as I wish.

 History provides many lessons. We (humans) can actually own other humans - and - as horses follow the herd - and more appropriately, pack animals such as wolves follow the alpha leaders for the common good - it is actually built into your genes how you feel. As it is into mine.

 So, were we to transport ourselves back to the days (oh, that would only be about 30 years ago for some countries and about 150 to 200 years ago for very many countries) where slaves were commonplace - I would, by all rights, own you.

 Having chosen you off the line by the way you handled yourself on the auction block, and having no desire for more than one slave to own, I would have paid for you and led you by your collars, naked except for a rough linen thong, your wrists tightly tied behind, with your ankles tethered with a leather strap so that you couldn't run. Tug as I would on your neck collar, the leash being short so as to keep you close to me, I might be sterner at first than much later when you've learned your place.

Bringing you into the household, the other field hands would see you enter the spacious mansion, knowing full well what was in store for you. I might remove your gag at this point, but at the first hint of objection, it would be roughly shoved in your mouth and you'd be admonished as a dog is trained to 'sit'. Tied to the pillar in the center of the room, you'd be left wondering what was in store for you. Rest assured, later (perhaps much later, depending on the breaking of your spirit), later you will be treated with soft kindness, if always firm and demanding. Once you knew your place, you'd be obedient and submit to my whims - but until then - you'd need to be taught your place.

 Tied, and left alone, naked, quivering, unsure of what you were to do, you'd be left to ponder your new situation. Daily, I would devise interesting feints to break your will down, slowly but surely. Abrupt commands just as we train a horse, and smart smacks on your buttocks with my crop would let you know immediately what you do right and more importantly, what you do wrong. At first, I withhold natural needs such as food, water, shelter, and bathroom privileges. Soon you learn hunger helps you forget the humiliation of eating off the floor with the animals in the barn. You'd know I was there to protect you though, as once that mangy dog tried to mount you and I pushed him away forcefully with a snap of my whip, locking him back in his pen from whence he had escaped.

 Slowly, as your resistance was worn away, you learned to meekly kneel before me and even to expectantly learn how to service me to my satisfaction for your daily lessons. I'd put my right hand out, palm up, and sharply bark "Tit!" and you'd learn to place your left teat softly in my palm for me to fondle. Wordlessly, you'd be punished were you not to ascertain that the left hand similarly outstretched gets the right teat upon "Tit!".

"Suck!" and you'd nudge your head into my crotch, pulling down on the zipper with your teeth and learning how to use your tongue to pull the crotch open while your arms were tightly bound behind. At first, I'd bark out "Swallow!" whereby you'd be forced to drink it down no matter what fluid was provided for your sustenance. You could not be choosy. I would choose for you what you may drink. You'd even learn to swallow every single drop of my precious sperm, not wishing to waste any, at first for fear of punishment - and then later - for the reward of making Master happy, even down to licking your lips and cleaning me with your tongue as I lie resting and relaxing after such strenuous but excellent use of your soft mouth and lush lips.

 Over time, perhaps a long time, you'd be a perfect pleasure slave. All three holes perfectly tuned to present themselves at the bark of a command. Your ass wiggling, your mouth reaching out, your pussy offering no resistance. At that point, we would have reached synergy. You understanding and accepting your role as a slave - to do as you are told - and then (only then) to be treated well. I'd care for my newly purchased slave as I would a brand new car. Something to take care of, to cherish, and to enjoy - but also something whose value is the use that I get out of it.

Remember... everything I've said has been ingrained into countless real slaves over time - the product of which is probably half of humanity. Certainly this has affected our development - and the wiring in your brain, and in mine!

Some seem to understand the connection of Pyramus & Thisbe, as true lovers, kept apart by protocol and circumstance. They were illicit lovers - yet in their own right - they had nothing to be ashamed of. Keeping them apart was the tragic theme - and, well, that's why I chose the name.

The more mature and wiser I get, the more I realize we 'are' how our brains are wired! We either have a high libido or not, based on our wiring. We either are vanilla or kinky, based on our wiring. We're tops or bottoms, based on our wiring. It's not our fault. It's not their fault. It is what it is.

The good news is, you are not alone!

Welcome to the wirings of the D/s community!

What I enjoyed when I first saw Jabba enslave Princess Leia Organa I still enjoy whenever I see that photo or video clip of this large disgusting 600-year-old slug tugging on the beautifully graceful princesses leash. She was clearly owned and forced to do whatever she was told to do. It was especially poignant that she was a slave who had no choice but to obey his disgusting desires. Given his known insatiable appetite for sex, the look on her face told it all - that she had already pleasured him aplenty, lest she be punished. Even today, whenever I see a woman wearing a choker collar or a metal bikini, I think of the slave princess! :) Well, OK. it's rare to see either one - but if I did, I would think of that! What I want is to own, cherish, and enjoy you! And owning every inch of you, from your smiling lips to your soft cheeks to your sumptuous curves, to the little folds of other lips where they smile at me as I lick at them, helpless to stop my transgressions! Oh my! What a pleasure. Such a slave girl for my very own. Truth be told, I often do reminisce about my Roman heritage in a way that I think about what I'd do were I back in the days when entire countries were enslaved in the Roman empire. Hell, I'd sure know exactly what to do with my very own personal slave girl! The mutual enjoyment is the key. Were I to be transported back to Rome in the first century, I'd want my slave girl to be chosen for her obedience and willingness to please - yet - also for the sweetness of her tears and her soft femininity as she writhes with pleasure, all the while bound hand and foot so that she's all mine to explore every luscious inch. My roaming hands and strong tongue would taste every inch of my slave girl - and she - in turn - would pleasure me as I see fit.

 I, for one, use the Master/slave case protocols only when they seem to fit, and discard them otherwise - in favor of free thought. I'm unconstrained that way, yet still highly imaginative. As any good professional can, I adapt to the situation what I need from others - which in my case are a avid reading of the treatment of slaves in history.     As for subjugation and marginalization, one of the first steps historically, whenever a large population of humans were captured, was to show the naked, cowering, and newly branded slaves the power and control their Owner had over them. He would, for example, order the slaves to attention, and, arbitrarily grabbing the slowest wench by way of example, subject her to his wrath, so that others may know of their possible fate should they disobey him.     He would separate the slaves from each other, and send the men off to the field while keeping the best of the Irish wenches for his own. They, in turn, would learn his compassion but only after experiencing his sternness. By necessity, he would subject them initially to long periods of isolation and discomfort and basic needs deprivation. No shelter, she'd be chained to the ring in the center of the dank dark room, the stench of her bodily fluids being one of the first indignities she'd become accustomed to. Eventually, she would learn to lick him anywhere he commands, but first she needs to learn to live in filth so that she can appreciate his kind treatment.     Likewise with the use of her body. She might even be thrown to the guards for a few weeks, so that she may learn what pleasure it is to only have one man to please instead of scores at the same time. She would learn to look down and never respond back unless asked to. Perhaps her favorite lesson would be as she gradually learns to predict her Master's commands, never jumping ahead, but quickly and willingly acting upon his almost wordless wishes.     He would enjoy her. Every inch of her. He'd take special pleasure with her teats, fondling them both roughly and gently as he saw fit. Twisting her nipples would give him a special sensation in the groin as he enjoys watching her think of nothing other than the pain in her nipples - the wiring going straight to the erogenous portions of her psyche. Dancing to the music, her arms tightly bound at the elbows and wrists behind, her dress pulled down so that he leads her in step by twisting and tugging on her sensitive nipples. The little bells he roughly clips on her nips ring like cowbells in the barn, as she waddles about on the floor, embarrassingly tethered hand and foot. Slap! Slap! Back and forth her tits swing, as he rhythmically bounces them to the beat. Slap! Slap! SlapSlap! as he improvises the percussion. Whack! On her ass cheeks, as a red welt rises up glowingly. She didn't look obedient enough - she could tell from the force of the sting - as she wiggled her Irish white tits back and forth teasingly in his hands, hoping she was indeed pleasing to his desires.  He was just beginning to own her, his lovely slave girl. Soon, in time, she would be worthy of the title of house slave. It is all well and good that you will eventually submit to being owned. Being the cherished submissive you are, you will proudly kneel before your Master and worship his very being. At first, licking his feet and rimming him clean may seem distasteful to you - but then you remember the weeks with the guards, and you realize this is heaven in comparison. Were he to be unhappy with you, yet another fortnight with the unruly gaggle of men would be your punishment - and you so very much did not wish that upon yourself. Then, as he delivers his warm nurturing sticky fluid into your mouth, your arms and ankles still tightly bound ... devoid of independent thought, you swallow hungrily, as he rests on the bed, his hands unconsciously still playing with your warm moist pussy, splaying your legs about for him to view your sweet slit (even while your ankles are tightly bound) before remembering to shove your double-dildo back in all the way so that the girdle strap holds it tight for the night. Meanwhile, you suckle yourself to sleep between his legs, your blindfold still on so that you recognize his cock by it's sweet slightly salty scent ...  his now flaccid yet still large cock nestled sweetly in your mouth for safekeeping, as he sighs, and falls to sleep at the same time as you. You're thankful he forgot to replace the ball gag now hanging around your neck - but you dare not remove your mouth from his cock until he awakes and allows you to move.  As long as you worship that which is naturally superior - the pleasurable uses for you will be boundless indeed!

To those who asked in the forums why men contact them when they're avowed lesbians, I answer ... Men are, what men are, and always will be.

[quote]

I do realize you said that jokingly; however, note that a common characteristic of men is they attempt more than they often can achieve. They cast their nets in a wider arc than they can possibly achieve were all the fish to accept their offer of bait.

The fact is, men who don't try, get nothing; while men who try get 'something'. It's the same reason, albeit even less fruitful statistically, that men whistle at passing women. It's their form of communication - not because that is an erudite way of promoting themselves, but, merely as a last-chance gesture at communication (as laughable as it is), with a member of the opposite sex.

The fact is that a blank profile with no picture and merely the box ticked for "Female", will get as many responses as one that says "dont' contact me".

Treat it as a lucky advantage of being female, and, even if you dislike it, you and a thousand years from now your descendent's descendants will experience the same phenomenon.

It is, what it is just as men are what they are.[/quote]

Getting disheartened by this whole thing ... Sigh.

I love this community because there are no judgments and it allows me to find someone that is as kinky as I am;-)

Ooooh. I feel like pinching some nipples right about now!

You are what you are, as am I; we find a way to adjust, or we die!

I love the whole 1950's dynamic! Oh how I miss that! Back in college, my gf and I would have the entire apartment suite all the time to ourselves. We basically played married as she cooked dinner for me but I always made sure at least once or twice a week to take her to dinner and most lunches. But when she cooked, she'd wear whatever I told her to wear and I'd watch her at the stove, saunter up to her, lift her skirt, and play with her while she did the cooking. Then, when we ate, I'd always be respectful but also wanted her all the time. We had a glass tabletop so I relished in lifting her skirt, not all the way, just enough to show her thighs to the top, as we at the meal, sipping wine, and laughing together. I took care of the house, and her. I fixed all the broken stuff (the landlord at the time was the college but they took forever to fix stuff) and she took care of my needs. It was PERFECT! Oh to have that again! It takes a special kind of man and woman to have that kind of a wonderfully dynamic relationship. She knows her place and he takes control of his. They both work together, but, she takes care of him and his needs and he makes sure she's always safe and sound! You gotta love it! 

Fake users pictures known on the net (rot13):

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