What am I, in that moment?
A fucktoy, eager and enthusiastic,
allergic to the word no; wedded
to the word please. And more.
A slave, ready to crawl. To serve
and to be commanded. To be
hurt and humbled at your whim.
A mindless creature, back arching
and mouth reaching. Tongue
flickering out, fingers sliding over
any skin you give me permission
to touch. Your hand clenched
in my hair, tightening painfully,
turning me supplicant. Whimpers,
writhing; whatever will appease you.
And lastly, a vixen, who know that
this thing between us is fire.
Intimacy at its most intense and
its most natural. Us, stripped
to our core. More naked that I
Could ever be, splayed
on your bench.
Hello, welcome to my profile. In the kink world, I go by Char. I'm 42, in an ENM nonsexual marriage. I am a terrible stereotype, I'm afraid: all the responsibility in the real world, looking for a space to put myself in someone else's hand. I am quite experienced, sassy, somewhere in the midscale on the maso spectrum. I am looking for a meaningful Ds connection. I understand myself, I understand what submission means to me. I am looking for a Dominant close in age, and I prefer to be near enough to touch. For the right mind... well, we move mountains, don't we? Sapiosexual.
Asymptomatic HSV2. Please don't message if that's a deal breaker. You wouldn't know; I choose to tell.
What is it, to be Dominant? Well,
it depends on you who ask. For some,
it’s hairpulling and handcuffs. Spanking.
Making her call you Sir or Daddy or Master.
Making him call you Mistress. Goddess. Queen.
It’s tasks and rules and rituals. Wearing his
favourite lingerie, caging your cock
on her whim. It’s pieces of a jigsaw,
placed together a square at a time.
That’s not my definition.To me,
it’s who you are. It’s a mindset, a way
of being. An instinct to take the reins
and hold them. To guide, to nurture.
To mold. It’s control, and confidence.
To be unashamedly the Master, the
Mistress, and have her, or him, yearn
to please you, because they want to
bask in your praise. Be in your presence.
Because they want to yield to you, safe
in the knowledge that you’ll lead them.
It’s a fantasy, impossible boots to fill.
Perhaps I should have stuck to the jigsaw.
Scat play, vomit play. Age play or ABDL. Big age gaps.
Roll with the punches. Fairytales aren't real.