I’m getting sick and tired of being single and without a dominant. Hell, I could deal with being single so long as I had a man in my life that would be willing to dominate me and take total control of my life. I want, need and CRAVE domination. At this point I wouldn’t care if there was no sex at all. I feel so lost and scared without a dominant male in my life. Sure I can survive without my need to submit being fulfilled but the fact of the matter is that until I am able to do so that’s all that I will be doing. Surviving. Not living but surviving on the bare fringes of existence. I’ve come to the realization over 3-4 years of deep thought on the matter, that I am just one of those people that can not truly come to fruition as a woman unless I am under the control of a strong willed man. To be honest I’m actually quite traditional when it comes to gender roles and the structure of a household. I believe that married women are meant to stay home and maintain the household for their husbands and that the man is the head of the household, no questions asked. That is not to say that women should not work outside of the home because there are definitely times when it is absolutely necessary, but that it makes more sense for them to stay home and run their homes. Truthfully there is no shame in being a stay at home wife or mother, in fact it is something that one should take great pride in; it takes great skill and intelligence to keep one’s home running smoothly and efficiently. One must have the iron will of a general going into war, a mind like a steel trap, superhuman organizational skills and the accounting skills of a Goldman & Sachs CFO. Also, all of the women that say that it is a step back into the Dark Ages should reexamine their logic: though the man is meant to be the head of the household, the woman is the neck and we all know from Basic Anatomy 101 that the head can not support itself. It needs a strong neck to support it, so though it may seem somewhat backward and uneducated to some, it is truly one of the most logical ways to live life. In addition, I think that a family or marriage where only the father works outside of the home would seem to be much happier. With the wife at home, then the HOH is able to concentrate even more on work and thus be more productive due to the fact that he is secure in the knowledge that the fort is being “held down” by a competent loving wife. I, for one, would love a life like that. I don’t know where this is all coming from, maybe it’s just that I miss actually submitting to another person. I know I’ve said this already, but I need to submit, even if it’s in a strictly platonic manner! Even though that does take some of the fun out of submission. I want the satisfaction of knowing that I am fulfilling another’s desires.

My boyfriend, the love of my life, broke up with me two weeks ago and I only stopped crying today. It hurts. I actually feel physical pain when I think about him and I saw him in the halls today. I wanted to cry.. When I went to the ER last thursday I cried through the X-ray because all I wanted was for him to be there by my side, holding my hand. Kissing me and telling me that everything would be alright. That we would get through this together. I miss him, I love and I want him back. I don't care what everyone else said, when we were together he was sweet, kind, gentle, loving and he made me feel like a woman. Not once did he flirt with anyone or cheat on me. I love him and I want him back more than anything else. I want to be his baby girl again.

Love you baby.

-K

I just gave in and ate curly fries.

Image du miroir d'une civilisation mourante
Au bord de destruction
Déchire séparément a entrepris par guerre, haine, des génocides
Sang sacrifie
Atrocités se sont engagées à dans le nom d'idoles fausses
[enslaved] des enfants simplement pour le plaisir sadique de leur [master']
Croisades dans le nom du Dieu chrétien
Un outil essuyer la foi d'un empire


Un reflet d'os contre le ciel de la nuit
Le chuchotement faible d'un [stiletto] tiré

[razed] des villages
Courses entières ont détruit

Écho de vit perdu
Et a gagné de ceux-là
Ce royaume de plaisirs du [hedonistic]
Cette autorité du perdu

What are the rights of a child? Are they the right to a name? A home? Yes. The United Nations Convention on the Rights of a Child defines it as the following:

"the child, by reason of his physical and mental immaturity, needs special safeguards and care, including appropriate legal protection, before as well as after birth",



Bearing in mind that, as indicated in the Declaration of the Rights of the Child, "the child, by reason of his physical and mental immaturity, needs special safeguards and care, including appropriate legal protection, before as well as after birth",



Why then, are children daily, subjected to hard labor, hunger, homelessness? Why then, are their parents dying from lack of proper medical help? Are the rights of a child to be beaten and abused? Never. all children have the right to sane, humane treatment. All children have the right to a loving family , but most of all every child has the right to family.I am not just referring to two biological parents, but to parents that will love them and care for them as if this child were the most precious object in the world. Family is where you are loved and cherished. It is never where harm is inflicted upon them with the intent to harm. These are the rights of a child.


What do you believe are a child's rights in life?

Poll #932427 Society
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 1

An individual's obligation to society outweiighs society's obligation to the individual?

This is a fictional account of one woman's life as a consensual slave.



First of all, let's get one thing straight: being a slave is not all fun and games. Yes, playtime and all that that entails is a given in most M/s relationships, but it is a privilege, not a right. There are also the harsher sides of this life that must be considered with great caution. For instance, if your Master or Mistress requests that you do something, then you are to do what is asked of you instantly and without question. As long as it does not violate the hard limits within your contract. Yes, even slaves can have contracts. Unless your owner likes seeing a bit of the brat in his slaves, do not question him unless given permission to do so. Although, I do revert back to my bratty ways occasionally, when I feel provoked. This is extremely rare since, I fear His anger and the punishments that come along with it; I know that I must endure his punishments with grace and dignity, since I am well aware that it hurts Him more than it does me.Afterwards along with the bruised, sore and stinging bottom (the result of a spanking meant to punish rather than pleasure) comes the self regret and disappointment in myself for bringing shame and dishonor to Him. Even if I usually end up plotting against Him and praying that the Goddess would strike Him down, prayers that have yet to be answered, I might add. This mostly stems from a short lived desire to prove that I am not a doormat. I love my Master to pieces, truly I do; sometimes the things that asks me to do make me want to to tear out all of my hair and castrate the man.

I also know that no matter how much I may bitch and nag about the various mundane aspects of our life together, He loves me. This being evident through His strict rules and arduous tasks that He sets for me . The firm tone He uses when He gives an order that clearly states that I must obey or else. The feel of a riding crop against my skin. His inner strength. The way that he whispers sweet endearments to me just to see how long it takes for me to lose control; how He tempts me to do so even as He commands otherwise. Most of all, the look in His eyes as I struggle against the chains that He binds me with.

Real-life goddess in between.
Caught up in a world of fantasy and lies, terror and despair.
A never-ending cycle of hatred and despair.
Sweet deceptions of innocence, angst-ridden child frtting over the one I love .All the while knowing what I truly am .Realizing what I could become. A heartless killer.Mercenary for hire.Delving deeper into a world of decadent pleasure.Chocolates, silk, lilies and roses.Drugs and deceit, honey-sweet lies and venomous poisoin.Laughter resounds in the halls.Shrill , childish delight.How dare they laugh and call me names.I realize
in shock that the shril , insanity-ridden laughter is mine, and I wonder why.I look down and saw the sight that shattered my soul.My veins were sliced open, red with blood.Good bye my beloved.My Tara

Prologue

"Daddy, daddy, why is mommy cold? Why isn't she moving? Why is she crying?" The young child ,still unaware of the true concept of death, continued to wail. "Why are her wrists so red, daddy!!?!! Tell me!" Her shrill wailing continued silenced only when her father picked her up and cradled her to his chest.The effect was instantaneous, her wailing really had stopped ,yet tears continued to stream down her face.He buried his face in her long raven locks,and whispered silently, "Hopefully you'll never know the evils of the human soul."
Her father sighed,relieved that she'd finally slept.As he carried her down the hall and up a set of stairs (I say a set because there are many in this house) to her room,all the while contemplating his late wife's "death".He nudged the doors open and walked across the floor and up the stepping stool of her four poster king-size apple-wood bed,sighing softly as he tucked his only daughter into her bed, weeping as he walked back to the entrance,but not before he kissed her forehead.He walked out of the room,down the hall to his study. He opened the door and strode furiously over to his desk.He picked up the phone's receiver and punched in a telephone number. "Smythe Estates ,please hold." droned a nasal voice.
"I will not hold.Tell Sean that this is John. Now."
Moments later a deep baritone voice answered.
"I hope this isn't some crazy Witness because if it is,I swear I'll -" ,he was cut short by Pierre's overly cheerful voice."It's me.Your little plan didn't work. All she did when she saw the body ,was cry like the little eight-year old that she is.I want results,and I want them NOW."
Sean wracked his brain for an idea. I've got it. "What would say if I told you that I had the final solution?The solution that would fix it all, guarantee that she would do what we want without her knowing that we're influencing her."
"How?"
Sean proceeded to tell him.
"Ha. Ha .Double ha.Sean you're a genius!",Pierre chortled softly.
Thank,God.

To be continued...