Horny.

I need some men to play with right now. The bigger the dick, the better.

I need attention, and some big dicks

Men…hit me up. Follow. Reblog. Inbox me. Message me with cock pics, what you want me to do to you and things you wanna see me post.

Can you serve a 51 years old mistress like me ? If you are capable of serving me .just send a PM

Masturbating and I want a little help, anyone up for that?

masturbating and I want to sext w someone so I can come, anyone want to help?

i was a communications professional. Words were the tools of my craft. In my personal life, i’ve relied upon them to compensate for many things and to get what i want. Now, words are useless.

In a country where i can’t speak, read, write, or understand the language i am as vulnerable as i’ve ever felt in my life. And He makes no attempt to lessen that discomfort. In fact, He leverages it to His advantage.

Every day, He speaks long, emphatic dialogues directed at me, knowing full well i can’t comprehend a word. And i’ve learned i can’t rely upon intonation or facial expressions either. He’ll frequently use gentle, condescending tones right before physically accosting me for unknown reasons. i’m doomed to fail the tasks He sets out for me because i can only learn the nuances of His expectations from trial and error.

i don’t know if He speaks English but i’ve stopped begging for mercy, at least with words, which perhaps makes my cries all the more poignant.

My passport, wallet, cellphone - anything that connected me with my former life - its all gone.

He has the countenance of someone who is extremely happy and lighthearted, which is what dismantled my guard to begin with. It’s not that He’s a cruel person. It’s obvious that to Him, it’s completely natural and permissible to enslave, own, and use me for His pleasure, whenever and however He wants.

The way He fucks me tells me a lot about how He sees me; it’s almost always on my back in a manner that always leaves me feeling feminized. Even when it’s romantic and tender, there’s always an edge to the way He maneuvers and controls me that lets me know i’m a possession - not an equal.

He loves to play in my wrecked hole afterwards, pushing His cum back inside with His long fingers and delighting in the sight of His plentiful load oozing out of me. The way He beats me makes me feel even more like the worst version of a 50s housewife - dragging me by the hair to show me where i’ve not cleaned to His expectation or slapping me for challenging Him with my eyes.

i’ve learned quickly how to please Him: crawling on my knees; kissing the head of His cock; screaming loudly when He fucks me hard like a Man possessed; keeping my head bowed and always letting Him take the initiative in any physical contact; and when He feeds me His cum off His fingers, looking Him in the eyes and showing sincere gratitude.

i don’t know what i’ve become. What started out as survival techniques have become my natural inclination and way of life. He’s just as happy as He was when i first saw Him; i like to think that perhaps He’s even happier now that He has what He wants. i never leave His home. i’m locked in chastity and wear the constant marks of His ownership across my body. And i am happier than i ever was before i met Him, because i too now have what i didn’t know i wanted or needed.

He deserves my respect and obedience.

i’m not unaware of the tremendous energy it takes mentally, emotionally, and physically to provide me with the security and structure i need to be the best version of myself - a happy, contented submissive with purpose. It’s all because of Him.

The wall He’s built around me that hems me in and makes me feel safe and protected didn’t spring up magically overnight. Even though my submission to Him feels instinctive and natural, it’s the result of His forethought and planning. To construct something tangible and permanent often requires the deconstruction of years of resistance and the realignment of daily realities and intrusions from the outside. And that takes work, dedication, and effort.

You can’t measure the length and height of that wall just by the discipline He administers or the rules and commands He gives. He has slowly and methodically made me dependent upon Him in ways that bind me more tightly than the thickest shackles ever could.

My obedience comes from a place of genuine and unwavering admiration, love, and devotion. i will do everything i can to make His life richer and more satisfying because of what He’s done for me - for us.

The dominance He exerts over me is not always with a belt. The daily affirmation of His possessiveness and full ownership over me is not just about the collar i wear or the cage that keeps me in chastity. The way He owns and controls me so perfectly is through a tapestry of a million small, nuanced things He does and says. They are consistent and reliable to the point where it’s easy to take them - and Him - for granted.

But i will honor His efforts by never doing that.

When i see Him taking quiet moments of contemplation and meditation, my heart swells with pride and gratitude that i can trust and rely upon His control, strength, and power.

As i kneel before Him and lay my head against His thigh i bask in the enormous privilege of serving a Man of such high caliber and integrity, a Man who takes His role and responsibilities seriously. He deserves my best life and i will give it to Him. Gladly.

He’s back. It’s been less than 10 hours since He left my apartment and i’ve not had enough time to safely compartmentalize everything that’s happened in the past 24 hours. i try to keep a brave face when I answer the door, which only earns me a self-satisfied smirk as He pushes His way past me.

Despite the long, hot shower after He left, i still went to bed feeling dirty, especially since the evidence of His virility continued to ooze from my wrecked hole.

He immediately starts to undress and my face flushes in shame at His presumptive intrusion; He makes me feel like a cheap whore. But after the way i behaved last night, why wouldn’t He?

The sight of His barrel chest and extended stomach is like a jolt of caffeine. The view triggers memories of how smothered and helpless i felt beneath His weight and my heart races with dreadful anticipation.

He glares at me as He kicks off His shoes and starts working on His pants. “What the fuck are you waiting for?? Strip and get your ass in bed - on your back.”

i feel numb and dizzy as i hastily obey. i’ve had a sample of what He’s like when i disobey and i don’t want to experience that again.

The unmade bed sags beneath His weight as He lumbers into position. Lifting my limber legs, He throws them haphazardly over His shoulders and bends me in two. “Don’t have time for you to suck my dick,” He says, as though the blame is on me and i deserve what’s coming. With a sudden lunge, the head of His beer-can thick dick penetrates my sore hole and impales me.

His cock loosens what was left inside me. The squelching sound as He long-dicks me is obscene. He quickly builds up a sweat and presses His body against mine, rubbing His scent into my skin.

The few sounds i have the breath to make are pure anguish. He holds my eyes with a fearful gaze as He increases His tempo. i hurt all over. Thankfully, i feel the now familiar sensation of liquid warmth filling me as He grunts and groans into a frenzied orgasm. He collapses on top of me spent and panting.

After a few moments rest, He hastily gets up from the bed and prepares to leave just as suddenly and unceremoniously as He arrived. Once dressed, He heads for the door but not before scooping up my wallet, keys, and phone. “You look good this way. Don’t change a thing.” And then He’s gone.

What You’re clutching in Your hands is a testament to Your power.

The hours, months, and years of my life boil down to a few precious minutes of self-sacrificial service to Your lust.

All the tireless dedication to working out and dieting: i don’t do it for my health or well being. i do it to be as presentable and appealing as i can to a predatory eye, with the hopes that someday an Alpha will mark me as a target and take me. i do it for You. For the hope of You.

It may sound pitiful to those who think self actualization is about empowerment. But to a born submissive, our potential is fully realized when we surrender to the forceful hand of dominance.

It just takes a Man with the confidence and know-how to assert His inherent power and privilege to trigger these instincts in me, no matter how latent they may be. The rougher and more possessive You are the easier the kill; i’m wired to give myself to dominance.

Take what’s Yours. Consume the benefits of my labor and everything i have to give - everything that’s built up in anticipation of this moment. Claim it to Your glory. Savor the knowledge that what You’re taking represents significantly more than just a blip occurrence on Your lifeline. Comprehend the sacrifice and the offering because it’s a testament to Your Alpha supremacy and power.

When You feel me shiver and collapse beneath Your fingers understand that Your dominance is calling into being my life’s purpose. i was made for this. For You. There is no shame in the exchange; You are helping me fulfill my purpose. So enjoy.

Anger.

i am not a brat and i generally despise childishness when it comes to being in a relationship. However, even at this age, there is still the boy in me that needs to test the boundaries of his Caretaker’s patience … and needs to feel the brunt of His anger.

It’s deeper and more complex than just labeling me a masochist.

My ability to truly anger Him signifies a deeper level of intimacy and connectedness than just mere acquaintances. It means at a minimum that He is invested in me and at most, that He genuinely cares about me. If neither of those thing were true He’d just let the offense go unpunished or would cut ties with me altogether.

But if i’m being truly honest, there is a masochistic element as well:

Receiving the physical consequences of triggering His anger erases any ambiguity about who posses the power, strength, and control in the relationship. It affirms His dominance, underscores His Alpha masculinity and supremacy, and brings me wonderfully low in a way nothing else can.

A series of hard, unrelenting slaps that make me feel feminized.

A bare-assed spanking that leaves me blubbering across His lap.

An unrestrained beating and wrestling much like He’d administer to another Man of His caliber that underscores how very far removed i am from that standard.

Being the focus of His anger is humiliating and frightening and painful. It’s not something i want to see often; i strive to be a good boy, after all. But i need to at least know the potential is there.

It’s very hard to explain because shame for needing and wanting such a thing has kept me from trying to understand it. Even writing this feels like an unnecessary exposure of vulnerability.

But to be clear: i want this only if i know that when He’s released and appeased His anger and my punishment has done what it should that He will be there to wipe my tears and comfort me; He will be as much a part of my restoration as He was my undoing.

i will be meek, tender, and compliant and will not leave His side for a good while. And my love, admiration, and respect for Him will grow by leaps and bounds as a result of the experience.

i need You.

i don’t say it in words, but You feel it every time You touch me. You see it in my shameless acquiescence to Your objectification and sexualization of my mouth and body. You guide and maneuver me, not because i’m resistant or unversed in what pleases You; You do it to experience the deep satisfaction of witnessing the power of Your touch.

It transforms me before Your eyes into the needy, desperate submissive You’ve made me to be just for You. My body goes lax and my brain shuts down as my very being is called into a singular purpose: to submit unequivocally to Your needs, supremacy, power, and control.

The stress, obligations, and realities of Your day to day life may pull You away from that which renews Your spirit, power, and strength. But its these moments that center and ground You.

You own me, body, mind, and soul. You have a power that very few in Your world or the world at large will ever experience or understand.

It is an exceeding rare strength and virtue to live outside the boundaries of societal norms. For both of us, that inner strength gives us the freedom to be who we are and to receive what we need from each other. The simplicity of that exchange gives us the strength to walk unshaken and undeterred amongst the lifeless zombies that proliferate our fucked up world.

“He’s not pretty, but He’s hung.”

i remember thinking it odd when He said those words to me, as though any of that mattered; John was whoring me out for both His amusement and because, as He put it, “I like to use a sloppy hole.”

But perhaps He should have been more discerning about who He chose to share me with. He had made a serious miscalculation if He’d thought i’d be turned off by the much older man before me. Quite the contrary; i saw a ferocity and hunger in His mature eyes that mirrored my own instant physiological connection.

i knew instinctively that this Man was going to wreck me and i would never be the same - for John or for anyone.

The Man’s eyes sought mine immediately upon entering John’s home and He held them commandingly as He undressed. He never said a word to John. He was a bull of a Man whose prodigious cock and balls threatened to burst from His briefs as He waited for John’s signal.

John got comfortable in a nearby recliner and nodded. The Man quickly stepped out of His briefs and then He was on me. i’d never felt such brute strength in my entire life. His body hit me like a brick wall. There was no prep. Just me hitting the floor and being spread and mounted.

The thickest cock head i’d ever seen found its mark against my small, dry hole. i felt the searing stretch and pain as He forced it inside me as He held me motionless in a vice-like grip that was sure to bruise.

The second He penetrated me He lunged forward and impaled me balls-deep, collapsing with His full weight on top of me. i would have screamed if i could have, but i was smothered beneath His massive weight. His bearded mouth claimed mine in a painful kiss and He started thrusting.

It was easy to forget that John was in the room. It was easy to forget everything and everyone. The only thing that mattered was this. Was Him. If He had let me, i would have clung to Him, never wanting this to end. As it was, i couldn’t move. Which was as it should be.

i wasn’t being whored out, as John had planned; i was being claimed. i was being taken - taken from a man who suddenly seemed very weak and insignificant.

A part of me was aware that John was jacking off, too dim witted to realize what was happening before His eyes. i didn’t know this stranger, this Man who was fucking me into the floor and bruising me like a peach. But i knew one thing for certain: this Man would not be sharing me with John when He was finally sated.

It was a deep sigh that escaped my parted lips once i finally found the air to breath - not a scream or a cry but a shuddering sigh of joy and relief. i was made to be taken like this, with confidence and strength that defies resistance. i was made to yield to such power, made to serve, obey, and worship the true Alpha that possess it.

Communication

For the first week, it’s important to stay in constant contact with Your submissive if You intend to form a permanent bond with him.

A submissive will imprint on an Alpha much faster and more readily than the reverse; it’s in our nature to be clingy and needy. So if You just used it for a fuck, ignore this advice altogether.

Before You leave him for the first time after fucking him, make sure he has something of Yours to comfort and assure him in Your absence, especially if You used Him roughly: an article of clothing works best - something with Your scent on it - but it could be anything, really, as long as it comes from You.

And no, Your cum in his ass will not suffice. Although a powerful indication of Your intent to claim him, he won’t be able to hold it inside for long, despite his best effort or the enormity of Your load.

You have no idea what effect a random, casual selfie sent during the day will have on him. he will pour over every detail, look at it repeatedly, and replay in his mind how it felt to touch You, to smell and taste You, and to be taken by You. his pussy and soul will ache for You.

Don’t make it cute and don’t pose. Let Your Alpha shine through. And there is no need to be naked or shirtless. In fact, a clothed photo will only make him want You more.

If You really want to send him into sub space, text him along with the photo these simple words - “You’re mine.” Be possessive and communicate Your intent to claim him. And let him know that this is no longer something that’s up to him or in his control to stop. The trap is sprung, the door slammed shut, and the collar is waiting.

Do this, and the next time You see him he will choke himself on Your dick and suffocate rather than stop sucking You.

Communication is essential.

Working Hard From Home

“I’m having bandwidth issues this morning; sorry.”

Knowing smirks cascade from the other faces on the Teams call. Aidan’s public reputation as a hard-driving perfectionist is equaled only by His reputation as an insatiable hedonist.

Being a Dom is not something Aidan compartmentalizes. Though He keeps His workplace persona professional, sex and power radiate off Him like an expensive, exclusive eau de parfum. His sexual prowess is legendary, in and out of the office.

Aidan’s cock hasn’t softened much since His vigorous morning fuck. Still thick and long, it stuffs and fills every crevice of Wes’ mouth and His new boy struggles to obey the command to remain inconspicuous beneath Aidan’s desk.

Despite what impression He may have given Wes after their marathon night of unhinged domination, Aidan has barely broken him in. He knows that in the bright light of day, it will be harder for Wes to accept what has happened and what that means. But being His motionless, silent cock-warmer for the morning will keep His boy floating deep in sub space for the rest of the day.

Which is exactly where Aidan wants him: compliant and brainless, acting on pure instinct and without regard for his current pain, obligations, or future.

The smooth, older, muscled boy He plucked from the random faces and bodies at Club Dallas didn’t stand a chance when his world collided with an authentic Dom. He was Aidan’s the moment they met - the chemistry between them instantaneous.

Wes couldn’t keep his hands off Aidan’s hairy chest and had bent to His authority instinctively and without hesitation. Aidan knew in seconds that a quick fuck would be a grievous waste of the full potential that quivered in His grip. So in a very uncharacteristic move, He decided to take him home.

But not before He slammed the door shut on the submissive’s use of the Club.

The public spanking He administered in front of the large crowd had left Wes’ ass as beet-red as his face. The sound of the mature man’s yelps and cries had mixed beautifully with the thunderous clap of Aidan’s large calloused hand as it fell brutally across the beautifully smooth, round canvas.

Aidan praised Wes throughout for being such a good boy and had kept the lust-stoked crowd of men under control, allowing them to see but not participate. Pissing on the boy wouldn’t have been any more visceral a statement of His claim to property than the merciless (merciful?) beating He’d administered.

After a rough fingering of Wes’ tight hole, Aidan decided to wait until they were safe behind closed doors before taking the boy for a ride.

Once they were in His home, things had progressed quickly and Aidan had gone feral with lust.

The thick hair across His body was wet and matted with sweat when He finally collapsed hours later on top of the broken, still body beneath Him - a body chaffed, rubbed raw, and colored with marks and bruises. But despite that, the boy nestled sweetly against His heaving chest when Aidan cradled him close before falling asleep.

When Aidan woke, His boy was still clinging to Him with a contented look of peace on his face that made him look 20 years younger. Although the boy needed rest, Aidan knew He would have to fuck him again if He expected to get any work done.

Wes resisted the moment he realized Aidan’s intention but Aidan easily maneuvered him into place and held him still as He reentered Wes’ cum-filled hole. Still sore and aching from the night’s long, ongoing claiming session, Wes cried real tears and screamed in agony, even as he spread his legs wider to receive Aidan. Aidan’s thick tongue silenced His boy’s screams as He kissed him passionately while pounding his cunted hole like a jack hammer.

“Suck the cum off and stop crying.”

Aidan stood at the edge of the bed and waited patiently, His cock hard and dripping, as Wes crawled towards Him. As Aidan watched Wes clean him, He explained what he was to do - or be - that morning, and then with a firm hand around the back of his neck, led him to His home office where He gently pushed Wes to his knees and directed him to crawl beneath the desk.

By 10:00, Aidan had all but forgotten that Wes was even there. Before His next call, Aidan took a peek to see how he was doing. His boy’s head lay on His thigh with his mouth forming a tight seal around the base of Aidan’s cock, his eyes closed.

Aidan had been talking on calls the better part of the morning. But when He spoke to Wes at noon - the first time He’d spoken a word to him since he’d crawled between His thighs - His boy instantly responded to the different tone of command and woke from His dreamy, drug-like state.

“Don’t move.”

Aidan gently laid a hand on Wes’ head and slowly released a strong, steady stream into Wes’ mouth. And to his credit, His boy didn’t even flinch; he opened his throat and swallowed his Daddy’s piss like the good boy he is, making inhuman sounds of deep contentment.

When He was done - and not a drop had been spilled - Aidan slowly eased His chair back and bent to gently lift Wes off the floor. He had to do all the work because His boy was like Jello and too sore to do much at all. Without a word, Aidan lifted His boy and carried him back to bed. He was glad there were no mirrors in His office or bedroom; He didn’t want His boy to see his debauched and used condition. Not yet.

And even though He wanted to feel that now sloppy hole once more and hear His boy’s cries, He turned off the lights and let him be. His boy would need all his faculties to fully accept the realities of his new place in life.

i want to hurt for You.

When i look upon You, i disappear, my identity consumed by Yours. i am no longer anything of personal significance for i no longer exist. You don’t see me; You see the fullest expression of Your power, strength, supremacy, and beauty.

You see it in my eyes and feel it in the way my mind and body instinctively bend to Your will without hesitation. It’s a power few Men will even know or possess. Even fewer know how to wield it to extract the maximum pleasure from that which begs You to wreck it, to break it.

i shudder every time i run my fingers over the bruises and marks of Your ownership. i cling to the linger flavor of Your cum on my lips. i tremble when i remember the pain and the strength that administered it.

You revel in knowing that there are no safe words or limits to my surrender. i exist merely to worship, serve, obey, and hurt. i give my life to the faithful work of making Your life richer and more fulfilling in ways that nothing else can.

i am rewarded every time You lose control of Yourself in the pursuit of pleasure or for the release of anger and stress. i am rewarded when You take no consideration for how long You’ve used me. i am rewarded when i’m allowed those rare, luxuriant moments when i can caress Your body with my mouth, tongue, and hands. i am rewarded when i am put away for hours on end and forgotten about - collared, gagged, and chained.

Please, Master.

Thank You, Master.

Yes, Master.

Just push me up against a wall already!