I close my eyes and I feel the ache that forms almost immediately behind the lids. I am tired. My fingers move restlessly to type this before I try again, stupidly, to sleep. I may as well try to Windex my eyes to turn them blue.

I am prowling, yes, but without the energy to engage in anything worthwhile. I am passive, in a daze almost-a self-induced state of uncaring. While my corrosive nature still comes through the haze quite easily, I take no real interest in the pain my words inflict. I am rather like a well-fed predator – not eager to engage, but still quite capable of doing harm.

Some of this comes from my problem, that I spoke of earlier, which I addressed and carried out rather efficiently, but the rest comes from the lack of sleep I have experienced in the last 2 weeks.

I am not drinking coffee. I miss the smell of coffee in my house.

I’ve come to realize something very important.

I have only so much room in my head.

Lately I’ve been filling my time – and my brain – with TED talks, Kahn academy lectures, web-found life tips, inspirational quotes, harmonica lessons….

You get the idea.

It’s like I’m trying to level up.

But it doesn’t work that way. I won’t finish watching a TED talk on the importance of classical music and suddenly become enlightened. There’s no SHAZAM!-like quote that will transform me into ‘The Renaissance Man’.

Nirvana is not a youtube video away.

I envision my head as a bookshelf. Some ideas and skills fit into nicely. Scientific method? Simple, elegant, easy to learn and implement – it’s like a slender leather-bound book that fits neatly on one end of the bookshelf. Save ten percent of my income for retirement? Not a problem.

But how about the principle of ‘Always be good to others.’?

Not so easy to fit – some things you do are good for some people, but not good for others; how do you reconcile that? What happens when being good goes against your own self-interest? It’s a big idea. It’s like placing a large, weird, abstract sculpture on the shelf. It’s not easy to follow every day, in every act I do. But it’s an idea worth striving for.

And! At least I can get my mind around that idea. There are some that I just can’t grasp in a meaningful way. Stuffing those ideas into my head is like trying to keep a sack of playful kittens in one place. There’s no way. And that’s fine – maybe I’m not ready for that idea. Or maybe it just isn’t the right idea for me.

But back to the point.

There’s only so much room in my head. And sometimes I try and cram in a bit too much.

I’m not saying I plan to stop watching TED talks – really, they kinda rock. But I think I’m going to slow down on collecting character-building facts, and focus on better understanding the pieces I’ve already got in place.

I am the ragged poet
the scarecrow of words
my verses are unwashed,
dirty and rank

but she loved them

she was the hours in curves
making art of her flesh
both sinuous and sweet
and she reminded me of untouched days
the remnants of something delicate
an undiscovered jealousy
or a child's sudden temper

I
the worm to her apple, the snake to her eve
brutally faithful to her failings
trusted companion to her worser half

I
dreamt her with outstretched arms
and the callous grace of the unforgiving liar

she was mine.
my darling soliloquy
my most unfaithful servant

I feel it keenly, the separation of my two selves – the way I’m dividing slowly, and slipping back into old patterns of up and down. You know the downs well, its when I write, and so you’d assume I’m always that way, but it isn’t the case. I don’t write when I’m content, I write when I’m discontent, or unsettled or in the rare moment when passion strikes, but is on its own – without the mood along for the ride.

I’ve tried to stay somewhat balanced, and have for some time, but I’ve given away a lot during that and it has left the scale unbalanced, and tilting dangerously to the dark. I’ve starved my sadist, you see – and now his weight is smashing down on that side of the scale, his demands are furious and unrelenting.

Oh god it’s been an eternity since I’ve just blown the fuck up, not yelled, but really just went on a destructive spree, and that I feel so edgy now is a sign that it wants out. And I should have known it would happen. I’ve been denying, denying, denying – eventually, the beast rises and demands or dies.

Mine never dies.

So don’t expect to find me, you’ll find him instead.

My beast. It is the label that I give to the demon inside of me that craves the noise of screams, the scent of fear and the taste of blood. He – and I try my best to keep him distant, somewhat outside of me at most times – he is the one that I work hardest to control. Leashed, always leashed, because I respect him enough to never underestimate him. My sadism is a stain on every part of me, but controlling words I do for a living. Controlling the beast – it is much harder to do when inflicting pain… and it always screaming in my mind for more.

I love the smell of fear, real fear, her fear. It is my beast that loves the scent of it, the rapid thump of a heartbeat, the suspended breath just before the plunge. I know it well, but the lines between me and the beast during those times, become so blurred that we are indistinguishable between one another. The growl that tears from my lips is as involuntary as my next breath. I can feel him just under my skin, stirring, stretching, roaring to life inside of me – twisting my gut, arranging himself inside of me, an animal, recently awakened. Lazily reviewing his surroundings before catching the scent, and immediately ready for the kill, the bloodlust involved in the slaughter.

I use the term symbolically – if you weren’t aware.

Forced consent, or voluntary rape plays into those needs – those cravings when nothing else but a clash of minds, of bodies, will serve. I like her to fight. I like her to resist, scream, struggle against what even she must realize is a foregone conclusion. It is a clash of both our animals – primal, as if she, too, is an animal, resisting so that only the strongest will have her. She will yield. I will see to it that she does – my beast will sink its teeth into her shoulder and the fight will leave her, whether her mind or her body yields first, she will be left the same, hot, wet, wanting…acquiescent.

The sweetness of the reward for both of us makes the fight, the blood, worthwhile. It is sating – the violence like an evanescent vapor that soothes us, leaves us drained, our eyes glazed over as we try our best to catch out breath.

Sometimes it’s a wonder I don’t howl at the moon.

I am taken with the idea that certain moments have a life of their own. A sigh. A kiss. A look. They are more then their parts. People, no matter how often I dissect them in word or wit, are the same. Even the clumsiest of people are capable of a moment of grace so sure that you’re left breathless. The most cynical people capable of giving hope. The most lonely people capable of being filled.

***

Her whispers were not unlike her lies,
which were silky and slid through my fingers,
or like her smiles
which would spend time with the chauffeur downstairs

or even like her laughter
which would crawl up my spine
and kiss the back of my neck

No, her whispers were sultry things
and they liked to spend their time in her bed

I crave the sound of whimpering, of sharp gasps and well-used flesh.

I want to leave welts. Bruised wrists. Rope burns.

The civility, so carefully crafted, is paper thin. I can see the puncture marks where teeth have already tasted the warm air just on the other side.

I want you bent over my desk, hands bound behind you, and fucked hard enough that your feet have to scrabble for purchase as I take you.

The distance between asshole and prick is only a few inches.

—

Being honest comes in many flavors. The two types of honesty I am talking about today are amongst the harsher variety. You can be brutally truthful without being entirely offensive. The difference?

When she asks, “Do I look good in this?” and you say, “No. Try on the short pink dress instead.” You’re being an asshole.

When she asks, “Do I look good in this?” and you say, “Hell no. What makes you think you can pull something like that off?” You’re being a prick.

Do yourself a favor. When necessary, be the asshole – but avoid being the prick.

The bruises left against the skin wrapped from the front of her thighs to the warm curve between her legs; they were shaded purple, a dark inkwell trail that marked the passage of teeth and fingernails.

I remember heat, and fingers dragging cloth over skin, each inch a hard won victory as fingernails dug into my back and shoulder. Her nails were sharp, but my teeth teeth were sharper, and while her cries drove me deeper, my own came as low-buried growls made against the bared flesh I was feasting on.

Hate me for understanding your need; under me, there are no excuses to hide behind, no doubts to hold you back, no fears to blind you. My belief will sustain you. My faith will guide you. My acceptance will free you.

Hate me for using your own body against you. My hands will learn the language of your cries. My lips and teeth will coerce secrets from your tender skin. I will be relentless, plying you open until your entire body betrays you, allowing you to enjoy the sweet indignities found in complete capitulation.

Hate me for having no mercy; my desire to watch you slip over the edge is matched only by my sense of cruelty; the delicate balance that keeps you helplessly teetering at the cusp is just the beginning, for I will see you fall again and again until I am satisfied you have suffered enough.

Hate me for making you remember; hate me for reminding you of all those feelings you had worked so hard to bury; hate me for awakening a need you thought was no longer there.

Hate me for not backing down; I will call your bluff and accept your challenge; I will have you on your knees before you have time to reconsider your ill-advised defiance; my judgment will be swift, if not severe, and you will taste me in each reminder I've left upon your skin.

But hate me most for the ending, when I brush away the tears and tell you the dream is over.

  I’ve been having arguments with my inner voice.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been favouring background music over the white-noise generated by talk radio, audio books, and television. I’ve been giving myself room to think.

At least that’s what I thought I was doing. In truth, I wasn’t doing much thinking. Instead, I was attempting to open the door to my subconscious and trying to steer the boat from the back. But that back room is a dark and crowded place; in there, it is easier to catch smoke than it is to pin down a thought.

And trying to run things from back there is like walking through a pitch-black room where the furniture is constantly moving and invisible gnomes take turns alternatively kicking you in the shins and nibbling on your calves (in an uncomfortably arousing way). Running things from back there leads to frustration and confusion; and if you get stubborn enough not to back off, you’re more than likely going to blow a fuse.

All of which didn’t stop me from trying to do so.

Today, I finally resigned myself to closing that door (well, I did leave it cracked). So now, I am back in the front room. My voice, here, is much clearer. It lives only in the present (but can artfully consider both past and future). It is roomier in the front, and well-lit.

I have these moments, when typing away (and with no drugs involved) where I feel like I’m floating a few inches above myself. These moments are often preceded with a tightness in my pelvis, an eagerness, a craving that threatens to splinter me. It is the promise that this craving will be fulfilled, that surreal acceptance of inevitability that such a thing is mine to have.

“It’s almost like…like you’re tasting every word before you let it come out of your mouth.“

I am.

When I am inspired, I let words filter through my mental fingers like grains of sand, sifting them against my palm, feeling the weight of them. My will becomes the pivot upon which rests the balance of my desire.

I write sins for you the way hymns are written for the faithful.

—

You will give yourself to me

cross the threshold of my gaze

and believe.

What happens when you stop feeding a wolf?

It gets more cunning, perversely more patient.

And hungrier.

There are those moments, though few in number, where time suspends between two people. You recognize it only as such – long after it has ended -because you were too captured by the minor details of their face – the way their eyes crinkle at the corners, or the way their voice pauses as they struggle to say your name. You may only be able to remember certain parts of the event, the details lost in the translation between short and long term memory, but what you remember – you hold onto forever.

It is a deeper connection than you have with casual acquaintances and most of your friends. There is vulnerability for each of you in that moment, because it comes without lies – without even the barest of shields – and you are left totally open, for that brief moment, to that person. You’ve paid a high price for it. It comes only at the cost of your defenses – pride, anger, and ego. The irony of it is that despite having laid down your weapons – your shields, you are not aware it is happening.

It is only afterward, when your mind has turned the memory over and over again, that you recognize it for what it was. It is then when you apply your jaded mind, that the details start to fade. It screams at you with facts, reality…truth, and even as you embrace the cold that facts often bring, the pain that you feel is unrelenting, and you are forced to numb yourself to it.

How could you ever allow yourself to be so vulnerable?

There is something about skin that intoxicates me. Tan or pale, each color has its own depth, its own appeal to the eyes, the right light to make it just – utterly perfect.

The softness of it is most important. The contrast that exists under my fingertips, the differences between my courseness, your softness. I imagine the playground I can make out of your belly, like swimming in an ocean of cream, thick and warm. Wanting to rub my face over it, inhale it, sink into it for hours, days….weeks. Swallow it, taste it across my tongue, drink it down in a haze of rapture compelled only by the desire to know more of it, to know it better.

Dig my fingers into your flesh, into the tissue, not to mark, but in a seduction, a dance that only ends when you cry for reasons other than pain. It is a kiss, my kiss, the one time where I make myself equally available to you, where I don’t stand in dominance over you, but with you, controlled, perhaps, by something greater than us both.

I crave. Let me swim.

Incoherent perhaps…distinctly me.

Fingers smooth over the polished surface of my desk, making paths in the liquid puddled upon the slick surface, then rubbing against one another, spreading the crimson across the calloused skin of my fingers. Another drop, then another, then another fall to the surface, renewing the puddle in small punctuated steps. The instinct is to draw my eyes upward, to look and find the source, but I’ve already spent decades routing out the source.

Wasted time.

It drips, my blood, in an endless flow, ignoring the rules of clotting, of blood loss, of healing in its mindless need to remain everpresent. It won’t be ignored. Pain is the accent to the loss, but by no means takes the place of the loss. It simply is and won’t be denied.

My fingers splay and slide carelessly through the liquid, my arm, my chest, my body numb to its meaning, just detached. My hands are covered in blood, and I feel the urge to paint my face in it. My fingers stroke the bridge of my nose and slide down, pushing outward until my fingers slide down along my cheek and meet again at my chin. Fingers smear across the left side of my face, streaking downward in thick paths of red.

Still the puddle is renewed. Hand prints adorn my white shirt, my forearms, the dark hair is matted and dotted with blood. The back of my neck, a favorite place for my hands when I think, is thick with layers of blood.

I wish to be extracted and at the same time, I wish to go deeper into the rabbit hole. It is the conflict of darkness and DARKNESS. There is no light to be found here, just endless shades of gray and crimson. Blood or Cold. Passion or bleakness.

It is the ever-present drip of blood that keeps me steady… Always moving forward, always staining some new thing. My blood, an infection, a stain.

Be my virus, and I’ll be yours. I want, that much, to be inside your skin, but maybe more, do I want you inside mine. I can’t get enough of you, want to drink you with the passion of an addict, the dedication of the insane.

I look at you with these unshadowed eyes and wait for you to see me, feed off of me, and drink me just the same. Be my virus. Consume me. In fevered want do I wait for you. Pensive. At first touch I break apart like a million flies and then devour like a million locusts. Plague me.

Take me whole, unbroken, filled with all those undesired pieces, and remind me that you want them all. I extinguish my flame, silence the noise and yearn for the consumption to begin.

Be my virus and Ill be yours.

Oh, Have fun trying to figure out what I mean here… there is no wrong answer.
…

There is a whisper of silence, and it breaks at your feet.
Cracked open like so much water, splattered across broken concrete
…and shredded nails.

You do not, and still you do. It means nothing.
Violation becomes a corrupter of the soul rather than its conspirator -
age does not your planet define, it is not your master.

Seize it, take it, consume it. What else is its use?
absolution, my rosary, abstinence, my joke.
I laugh at your tears of ash,
And we all fall down.

I have died to myself and I live for you.
I've disappeared from myself and my attributes,
I am present only for you.
I've forgotten all my learnings,
but from knowing you I've become a scholar.
I've lost all my strength, but from your power I am able.

I am your Master, come to my side,
I will open the gate to your submission.
Come settle with me, let us be neighbours to the stars.
You have been hiding so long, endlessly drifting in the sea of my desire of wants.
Even so, you have always been connected to me.
Concealed, revealed, in the unknown, in the un-manifest.
I am life itself.

You have been a prisoner of a little pond,
I am the ocean and its turbulent flood.
Come merge with me,
leave this world of ignorance.
Be with me, I will open the gate to your submission.

I desire you more than food or drink
My body my senses my mind hunger for your taste

I can sense your presence in my heart
although you belong to all the world
I wait with silent passion for one gesture one glance
from you.

It really is a shame that people are so antisocial on this site! It seems anytime I simply greet a person or compliment them, they get so defensive and act as if I am going to pounce on them any moment. The reality is, 99% of these people will never meet me. I find that here, there are many who I have things in common with and many introduce ideas that I have not even thought of. Yet, when I write them to ask to elaborate, it’s as if I am asking them on a date. Is it possible just to be friendly anymore? Or is everything about getting what you can get??

I am really shocked at the lack of dominate males on here, or people who claim there Master on here.  I had one who sub answer for her dominate partner, another who lost control and told me to F off, this site is amazing.

So my submissive friend on here, you are indeed right out of 10 people I picked, all failed the most simple dominate traits.  Which is lost self control and it a simple test all those submissive and slave can do, to find out the so called Doms on here.  Has for me, well I am off to Holland to fetish club this weekend and really enjoy the active lifestyle of BDSM.  Then in two weeks time I am off to Glastonbury to rock my candy ass off and probably get wasted has well.

Are there any Submissive females on here?  It seems to me there are none, so prove me wrong.  Because good old sadist Demon Wolf here is on another website, which is feeding me many submissive challenges.

I use to love collar me for the submissive people on here, male & female and it seem to be a dying art.  Still I got my friends and mentors on collar me, to keep my BDSM fix going :)

To my beautiful switch lady friend who I know will read this.  Good luck in South Africa, enjoy yourself for 2 months, because I know you will do any work out there ;).

Stay kinky everyone :)

WANTED : 18-28 yr old female..must be dress size 6 8 or 10
Fat/ugly birds or anyone of an overly sensitive nature please read the disclaimer at the bottom of this profile before proceeding any further

Emilie de Raven lookalike ideal.. Has to be submissive..for any dizzy blondes out there that means you do anything I tell you to do when I tell you to do it..

Should have own car (TVR or Aston Martin please) to chauffeur me from pub to pub to Curry house or lots of money to pay for our stretched limo..Young girlies with modded Puntos an Corsas forget it and go borrow your dads Ferrari.

16/17 yr olds can apply as trainees but there might be problems with driving and getting into pubs so to make it worth my time they would have to be extremely attractive and willing to experiment sexually. You are probably too immature for me anyway. let's face it most young birds don't know their arse from their elbow in the sack..

I drink far too much….but you're paying so I don't see it as problem. I smoke too much but again you love me so would not complain when I stink of fags and stale beer ... pant and drip sweat all over your sexy lil body.

This page is posted only so that attractive girls that want to f*ck me can easily accomplish that goal. Make no mistake...I may like you and we might become friends but we will never date you and I will never fall in love with you.
If you want to take this as some kind of challenge and shag me in an attempt to change my attitudes you can but I warn you: The road to Master domination is littered with the broken lives of girls who tried the same things before you. If you just want to get drunk and then fuck me. Great lets get it on but don’t make the fatal mistake of thinking you are any different to the others. It will only end in ugliness. Take me for who I am and you will have no problems.

I am selfish and aggressive in bed. If you want candlelight romance and long meaningful gazes into your baby blues you should look elsewhere.
I will never ask if you came, because I really don't care. I define my success in bed as my own happiness, not yours. I won't go down on you (unless I am really drunk and you are extremely attractive and I really…..really. like you).

If I like you we might meet up again. If I don't I probably will never call you again unless you have stunning friends. I promise nothing, except that if you are good looking and want to fuck me you probably can.

Even though I am generally a wanker, I'm usually nice to the girls that I am sleeping with. I am not going to put roses on my bed for you but I won't be mean to you. Unless you really piss me off!


Message my ego or hurl abuse, I enjoy both, message me via MSN if you like Master_diablo hotmail.co.uk and tell me how you qualify for my attention. The more "interesting" the content is the more likely you are to get a reply (Sending me explicit photos might improve your chances),

PS .. A good sense of humour might help also…...lol

Psychology behavior of women and men is something I have studied most of my adulthood life. It really amazed me this weekend with one of my best friend new girlfriend of 3 months. He told her about my lifestyle in BDSM, which spark her to wearing a £200 corset she owns. My best friend was telling me how excited she was showing of her assets and corset to me. She also wanted to tell me about her kinky times with an old BDSM master she was once was with in her past.

Any way to cut a long story short here, we all met up at a local pub for a Sunday roast, which was my treat. She looked very hot in her corset and she knew it has she walked in the pub with all the old men drooling over her bouncy tits. But she soon changed her Psychology make up, when my best friend ex wife came in with the kids. The dumb idiot told her he was out with me at the pub.

Any way from been excited, bubbles she became very ill and was looking for my best friend symphony. He was stuck in no man land, he was confuse, has he ex wife played the child card, or the emotional blackmail if I am brutally honest with you lot. So I took him to the toilet to have a word and told him what was happening, here. Luckily for me he trust my knowledge on head play, it been to a few of my workshops to understand where I am coming from. I told him to ass lick around his wife and watch his new girlfriend become very ill. I said when she does become so ill; take her home and forger about the rest of the meal. Or if his new girl friend hang on in there to watch his ex wife leave, feeling tired, hehe and she nearly did :)

I then told him after that, she doesn’t need any medication of any sort, just tell her how much you hate your ex wife and how she use the kids against you, which of course is true. Well my best mate called me today, saying how she made this amazing recovery from those words, hehe. Then fuck his brain out like there was no tomorrow. Personally I had a few subs do this to me, so I always play the head game first, then I use the theory of pay back a bitch and correct them for there behavior and then reassure them that there place is beside me, no at my ex partner feet.

By the way I am loving WASP new album Dominator a few BDSM songs there, like mercy and I love the line I make you cry for mercy and I make you cry aloud, you can lay and curse me :P.

Online domination and submission happens a lot on collar me and other websites around the World Wide Web.  For me these sites are great way of meeting new people, but I could never just sell my Dominance in cyber space only.  Firstly there are great fetish clubs around, Hades, club XS and even one in Paris I went to this weekend :)

I went with a few friends to visit my legendary friend Jim Morrison grave, I then we when to this Paris fetish club, I didn’t understand a word the French said, but it was wicked fun. Mwhaha.  So when I think about it, I really us collar me has a communication tool to talk to old friends in the states, make new friends, gain some playmates and even rare find a partner in crime.

The man who comes back through the Door in the Wall will never be quite the same as the man who went out. He will be wiser but less sure, happier but less self-satisfied, humbler in acknowledging his ignorance yet better equipped to understand the relationship of words to things, of systematic reasoning to the unfathomable mystery which it tries, forever vainly, to comprehend.

TOP TEN TRAITS OF A TRUE DOMINANT!

Well someone asked me on here what my ideal person would, so here goes;

The one I seek will embrace and understand their true nature. She will find great power and strength in that acceptance. She will have a mind and the ability to think for herself and learn to think ahead to best serve the relationship. She will enjoy playing as much as she will enjoy living her day-to-day life with the one she has devoted herself to. She will be strong enough within herself to stand by my side and secure enough in her nature to kneel at my feet. She will be successful in her own right, intelligent, funny, compassionate, accepting, secure and prepared for the journey~~~~~ Someone who knows that sex starts with the mind and can make me hard with our first conversation. Keep me intrigued and you'll never "want" for anything....

Nervousness/Thinking too much

Well another blog from me about nervousness and thinking to much in my Dominance.  I still get nervous to this day, especially if my partner is new. Mostly, though, it is nervous excitement.

When I was newer to domination, I found that nervousness manifested itself mostly in questioning my self. In my head, I was asking myself a ton of questions, and sometimes asking her the same things. Maybe some of these questions are familiar:

Does she think I'm weird for doing this? Is this boring for her? Am I not being forceful enough? Am I going to do something bad and she won't tell me, and then start acting distant? Is this coming off as silly?

In addition, since dominance is not a natural drive for me (yet), you probably have these additional questions:

Am I doing this right? Is this what she wants? What am I supposed to do now? Is she disappointed in me? Do I even look dominant?

At some point, I need to get thinking to much out of my own head.  I can't recall how long it took me, but I can tell you, honestly, I now replace questions with creative thoughts in my own head when I dominate now.

If I find myself asking too many questions these days, I try to stop. Consider that I have plenty of time to think about these things after you have finished. Instead, think only about what you can do to make the experience more enjoyable. In short, what do I want? This then allows my creative thought process to kick in, because I want fun, power, hunger, passion and that smell of submission, that you can almost taste it.

So now I save the grilling of my own dominance afterwards, when I have my own me time.  Be interesting to see if another people in the lifestyle from either Top or bottoms have this Nervousness and thinking too much going on in them, like I have.

I am so happy that the Undertaker made it 15 – 0 at wrestlemania and now he the new World Champion.  Yes I do wrestling is fake, but I just love the undertaker character and all the darkness that behind him.  

Well a friend of mine sent me my start sign today, so here it is; AQUARIUS.

Does It In The Water.Trustworthy. Attractive. Great kisser. One of a kind. Loves being in long-term relationships. Extremely energetic. Unpredictable. Will exceed your expectations. Not a Fighter, But will knock your lights out.  People who know me on here and in life say that me; hehe and they could be right.

I DON’T DO SLAVES, this comes about from my dominate friend from states, you know who you are, hehe.

For me a slave gives up the freedom of who they are, to completely to serve her Master, which takes away some of the things I love about D/s.  I am not saying that some slaves are not creative and have intelligence to push me in the D/s lifestyle.  For me I need the right to earn the trust of my partner, which then allows there submission to be released over a period of time to take it to new depths.  A Slave doesn’t give me a mental challenge I require in a D/s relationship, where submissive and switch especially do.

I am sure their slaves that could prove me wrong on that point and yes I do know we train slaves over a period of time has well.  But with a Submissive/switch D/s relationship this is endless journey that two people can go on, finding new depths to his Dominance and her submission.  I guess for me it comes down to boredom and once you trained a slave, it very easy to get bored with them, has they come to be like a part of the furniture around my home.  Well that the thoughts on little old me not doing slaves :).

Mental mind play is one of the biggest loves I have in D/s and I have been very lucky to have about 70% of my partner to have the intelligence to play mind games with me.  You can go into so much depth with the mind of someone; it allows you to open up there submissive side into level you never knew existed.  I know my actual mental approach is of a high standard that has helped people re-enter back in the lifestyle, help them grow in to better people and also bring out there submissive emotion even deeper, before there body is even ready.

Mind play isn’t about being nasty, it about building a bridge between you and submissive partner.  You do this with basic mental skills, like listening to your sub, understanding there fears of your sub, wisdom and knowledge, building a safe place for there mind to go and bring out there inner submissive emotions in them.  Your natural Dominance will do that, you know when you’re on the right track, they will say those words, ‘I hate you’.  So many times I heard those words from so many partners, the joy that brings to me, hehe.  If you want to know more about my love of mental play, please get in contact with me.

For me D/s is both mentally and physically emotion that channel through two peoples emotions, and each emotion needs the other to function in a relationship.  I am into the idea of mind set of D/s, which means mind games, mental bondage, intelligent and down right dirty kinkiness.  I indeed function much better in my life having a submissive or switch partner, then the standard plan Jane normal relationship type partner.   We all seek the one (soulmate), but I am a realistic Dominate and take whatever new relationship comes my way. n Well that my random thoughts of the day :)

I have being on this site for over 5 years now, made some wonderful friends.  I have had some wonderful partners and playmates from this site.  Most people see the negative side of this site, the players, the cheating husbands, the bored house wife and people not understanding the true meaning of D/s.

Well for the first time I meet TensionRoom101 on here via pain and he met me through grief he caused.  The history of that is unimportant to the rest of you on here, that’s between us.  In my past I would have lash out in an angry rage and enter this blinded by my own rage.  At first I didn’t see that this man actually welcome me with open arms, like the old school D/s brotherhood I was taught to respect and honour by my late Grandfather.

I have met so many teachers on this site, but it very rare you see someone who has the D/s gift of healer.  This Journal is my tribute is for TensionRoom101and I find it hard to pay tribute to people I hardly known.  When I first meet him on here, I could feel the crack of his whip, the smell of rubber he wears, but also a different soul, than the usual Dominate male I have meet on here in the past.  He has helped me heal my own soul, for wish I am grateful for, also his guidance and most important his self control have lead us both on safer path of self discovery in D/s. 

No one can change the past my fellow D/s brother, we both very alike you and I.  You start your own new journey, with my full support and I wish you well.  I recommend anyone in the north part of England who needs help, guidance or to be heal, could do no better than visit the profile of TensionRoom101.  In this strange world TensionRoom101, I am please to call you friend, a brother in D/s and I am sure our paths will cross again.  Because when I need advise or guidance in your area of not only D/s but your life experience, I will surly be in touch.

We are both rare breads, so here I have two words I find so hard to say has a Dom, Thank you TensionRoom101, your are a true DOM to the core.

Respectfully Glyn

I really wish people could give you a reference has a DOM on here.  But I really do need friends, because I misuse friends in the past with my gambling addiction. I rape those friends to feed that Demon in me, now I have been clean for 7 & half years.  So I really need as many friends, to give me the back bone I crave in life.  See what I mean about been honest, I am always honest to the special people in my life; I have an addiction, which cost me my family and friends.  Thanks to me mastering myself, I have them back, well most of them.  I really hope more people will contact me on here; I need your support, your submission and your experiences of this lifestyle.

Want to know about limits, well climb Everest and you know all about limits I can tell you.  Respect to you all.

Well it has been while since my last journal, I guess when I feel low I lash it out on those close around me.  Hence why I gave an evil tongue lashing to a fellow friend on who is over in the states.  For me I strongly believe I am still a student of the lifestyle and like in Martial arts you earn that title from 30 years experience and your talents are second to none to become a Master.  Don’t let me mention the other terms of Grand Master, I am not sure I meet anyone who is super talent in this lifestyle and if I do they earn that title.

He tells me I am more of a Master than my self confidence leads me to believe, but it doesn’t help being in a bad mood and lashing it out on him that he is wrong.  For me I like to believe there our goals in this lifestyle and when I have 30 years experience, I would believe I earn the title Master.

I think we are all students of the lifestyle and we learn from our own experience, some which make us better and others make us worse.  For me I need the mental challenge, even though this lifestyle is sexual for me, I so need my mind challenged to its limits.  Probably one of the reasons why I am low, when you don’t have that submissive in your life who does that, it leaves a void of unknown pain in my head.  Dam now I am getting to honest, when I really need some people to message with there thoughts on the lifestyle.

People keep making the comment on me being a player and I keep telling them I am better than Pele.  Thanks for all the messages, but my alter ego needs more feeding, so please keep them coming.  I am just me on here, just accept me for who I am and I will do the same for you.

Life has been busy with my partner in crime on here and very challenging few weeks with her.  But I do come back now and again on here, to see what the inmates our up too, hehe.

Why it is when someone sends me a chat request, I only see for like 3 seconds and it disappears in to the unknown?  For the Master who send me a message and asked if he could gang rape my ass, it a wonderful offer, but that not what I meant when referring to an ass fetish, so it a NO.

I’m having one of those days where no one is replying to me.  I am a legendary internet attention seeking whore.  So please if you read my profile, just drop me a line to say you haveJ, is that to much to ask?

A Master who is cursed with sinful pride,

Whose lust for dominance he can’t suppress or hide,

Must be a glutton for the work required

To gain the prize his greedy heart desired.

I envy more prolific Mistress all,

While angry that my output is my alter ego.

Though I can’t walk the walk, I spank the spank,

By claiming that my sloth is “messaging a submissive.”

Someone on here like to be a very naughty girl from time to time and say I have pussy foot my way around my ass fetish blog.  Well like most men I got in to my ass fetish from the porn star Chloe Nichole, she has a Georges tight butted.  Then when you add booty bounce III to that, those big Black American butts bouncing up and down born my first ass fetish, mmmm yes anal sex.

From there my lust for the ass started talking over, when I discover BDSM and spanking, I start to enjoy the red glow of anal sex from my handy work.  I also found about Japanese ass fetish, which is Asia girl in tight white cotton pants; you tear those pants of to see that peach of an ass.  Now my partner in crime on here, well first let’s says she is one sexy sub, but she also has a very cute butt, that needs some work on of course.  She not very inexperienced with ass play, so I will break her in gently and slowly show what it like to have her ass hole erotically played with.  

So to sum it up I do like playing with ass holes, may be that why I fit so well on here, has there so many ass hole on here lol.

Those who know me on here, know I have a massive ass fetish and ask me why?  I hate good questions; it is just something that happens to us.  We all have fetish, mine is the ass and of course outfits and I just love dressing up my partner to feed my hunger and passion of desire.  In terms of D/s my main fetish there is control of the mind, for me D/s is about the mind, it what control all my partner emotions.

I am still not sure why some people say they are afraid to contact me, I don’t bite and I will not own any Sub or Slave on the three message rule on collar me J.

My question of the day is how many submissive profiles on here are actually DOMS?  I know some of my submissive friends on here want to ask this question.  Why our so many DOMS on here so submissive on here?

Any way my fellow collarme people, I had a great time in the states last week, visiting a big fetish show a friend was doing out there.  Thanks to all those pervs who made me feel most welcome :)

I stick by honesty is the best policy and yes I am owned by myself, hehe.  It amaze me how many Masters own subs on here, but do wonder if the subs know that Master owns like 10 sub on here?  Like I said honesty is the best policy and I will not own any one until like at least 18 months in the relationship, and I collar them.

Still may be collar me is like the fast food chains, you get collared real quick.

I’m wonder if I am old school here, does it only take 24 hours to own a sub/slave on collar me?  I am sticking to building a D/s relationship on trust, respect and friendship.  It amazing how many so called sub/slaves slips through my grasp because someone else has owned them quicker.  Has always anyone thoughts are welcome?

Bored Bored Bored Bored!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Is there anyone out there who will entertain me with there presents?

Wanted a Submissive woman with

good reputation, who can cook frogs

legs, who appreciates a good fuc-

schia garden, loves music and tal-

king without getting too serious.

Interested?

Then please only read lines 1, 3 and 5; still interested?

I just love these adverts, lol.

I had two great questions today, the first been what turns you on with BDSM?

Well for me the biggest turn on is taking a lil girl and turn her into a woman.  Or taking a slut and taken her on a journey of self discovery in the many ways of D/s.  It that journey that is the pulse of my heart and turn me on when guiding someone in to the unknown of my world.

The second question was what safe music I use, or what music do I use in senative play?

Firstly senative play is very important, it relaxes your partner and her mind set in trusting you on the journey you about to take.  I use two artists for safe zone; I use Don Ross, very healing guitar work and Tim Buckley song, song of siren.   You can work out the other songs on my song list about two journals below.

Keep the wonderful messages coming my fellow collarme’s

WOW I had 15 pages of messages today, someone had leak out how massive my cock is.  But let me get this straight, nothing and I mean nothing is bigger than my ego on here or in life.  My thoughts on collar me is there to many lesbians on here and my gag of been a born again Lesbian isn’t working.

I use to own two Swedish lesbian a few years back, so I am not an anti lesbian hater, just want more women to myself, I’m greedy like that.  Hope everyone is well and please keep the messages coming.

A is for Ass – Your ass is a thing that I own. It is there for my pleasure just as the rest of your flesh is.

A is for Attitude – I have one. I do not enjoy seeing one in females usually. It has to be the absolute correct attitude to please me. If you think you have the right attitude then see “A is for Audition” further down this list.

A is for Aroused – A condition you will find yourself in all the time you are around me. It is something I control.

A is for Audition – I am accepting applications for an audition for the role of slave. Master seeks girl who is totally devoted and truly able to submit her heart, her will and her spirit. Master commits to dominate as I wish and please. Nothing is negotiable. Any takers?

A is for Attribute – Greatest natural attribute that a slave can have is that of being intelligent. I agree.

A is for Awed – Shock and awe are tools in my control inventory. You will be awed and I will be the reason why you are.

A is for Alpha – I am the alpha male in my realm. I do not share well. I do not give up my position of authority and control.

A is for Appraise – I will appraise your naked flesh. I will watch as you kneel before me with your hands on your thighs and your knees spread apart so that I can view your most intimate parts and I will appraise your appearance and your attitude. You will feel owned when I do that.

A is for Arrogant – Yes I am. Confident, sure of myself, in control, knowing that I am dominant – yes to all of that.

A is for Access - I expect full access to every inch of your flesh, whenever I demand it.

A is for Admonish – If you ever hear me use the “voice” to admonish you then you are in rare and not so privileged company. Those that get that far along a path of trouble with me are rarely given another chance. Mild rebukes and correction are given out freely and are considered training moments.

A is for Audacious – I am audacious proven by my actions when I am bold, daring, unrestrained and even impudent.

A - is for ass holes and there lots on here, pmsl.

Regards, Living Legend DW

Does anyone read my profile anymore on here?  I hope everyone is having fun, for me that what life about.  Last couple of days I have been talking to people about BDSM song, if you have one, send me an email of what its called and who it is by?

My favourite is pretty tied up by Gun N roses and any sub wants to live that song out, contact me and I offer you a one time play session.