Seven years he kept her collared and obedient 🔗 Tonight she takes the leash and makes him her bitch. 😈 "9 a.m. Coffee ready. On your knees." The fourth secret is pure filth… 👀 Filthy new episodes dropping daily on TG & site 🔥

I just dropped a brand new collared and leashed BBC slave training video right to my OF wall today… 100% free when you sub! If you haven’t joined, now is the time! 😮‍💨🥵

I just dropped a brand new collared and leashed BBC slave training video right to my OF wall today… 100% free when you sub! If you haven’t joined, now is the time! 😮‍💨🥵

I’m dropping a brand new collared and leashed BBC slave training video right to my OF wall tonight… Free when you sub! If you haven’t joined, now is the time! 😮‍💨🥵

New clip alert 🚨 Tied Together — streaming now 👉 #BONDAGE# #MysteryGirls# #Zentai# #Encasement# #Spandex# #Catsuit# #Lesbian# #Collared# #Crotchrope# #Predicament#

October's Future Days Fund honors Home Range Wildlife Research! Nominating Ten Club member and HRWR board member Tom E. shares more about the nonprofit organization... “Based in Winthrop, WA, was founded in 2021 by two women working as wildlife biologists (and best friends), Anna Machowicz and Carmen Vanbianchi. After years of traveling the country to support wildlife conservation, they settled in the North Cascades and launched a project to study the impact of large-scale wildfires on state-endangered and federally threatened lynx. Currently, HRWR has three years of data from 15 lynx they have safely collared and tracked, and now it is time to analyze that data and report the findings to stakeholders - federal and state agencies responsible for wildfire management and wildlife recovery. Our current administration in Washington DC is not supportive of sensible stewardship of the environment and wildlife recovery. Therefore, our access to funding this year is very limited. Our hope is that the grant from the Future Days Fund, and awareness HRWR will receive from the community of Pearl Jam and Ten Club members, will help us secure the resources we need to complete our Lynx/Wildfire Project in 2026.” Learn more at 📸: Dave Moskowitz

Who Else Did You Tell? Made with HappyHorse 1.1 on @HappyHorseATH Prompt - REFERENCE LOCK: Use only the cinematic photograph in the uploaded reference. Exclude the surrounding labels, color swatches, borders, and metadata. Preserve the man's facial features, short hair, facial hair, dark textured collared clothing, cigar, silver jewelry, and green-stone ring. Match the photograph’s framing, smoky atmosphere, deep shadows, and yellow-green highlights. CAMERA: Begin with the reference composition: a slightly low-angle, tight close-up, the man's face left of center, shadowed negative space to screen right. Slowly push closer throughout the shot. Keep his eyes sharp while foreground smoke drifts softly out of focus. No cuts. SUBJECT / TIMED PERFORMANCE: 0–3s: He watches someone just off-camera right. Residual cigar smoke passes across his face. His hand rests near his mouth. 3–7s: An unseen adult subordinate speaks from camera right. The seated man stops moving his fingers; his gaze remains steady. 7–9s: Silence. He lowers the cigar slightly, revealing his mouth. His jaw tightens. 9–12s: He asks a quiet question, without raising his voice. 12–15s: Hold on his expectant stare. His cigar hand settles below his chin. A faint ember glows and fades. SPACE AND LIGHT: A dim interior suggested by the reference. Hard, warm side light catches perspiration, cheek texture, and the green stone. Preserve olive-green shadows and a nearly black background. Keep the unseen speaker on the same side throughout. AUDIO — EXACT ENGLISH DIALOGUE: 3–7s, subordinate, off-screen, low and hesitant: “They knew which gate we'd leave open.” 9–12s, seated man, measured and quiet: “Who else did you tell?” Low room tone and a faint distant engine. Natural breathing. No music. ENDING / HANDOFF: End with his eyes fixed off-camera right, lips closed, cigar below his chin, smoke thinning upward. Preserve this exact pose for Clip 2. CONSTRAINTS: Restrained performance; no shouting or exaggerated villain gestures. Natural mouth movement during speech. Stable facial identity, hands, jewelry, and cigar. No subtitles, captions, logos, or reference-sheet graphics.

Every kid in Japan grows up catching crawfish from Louisiana. Almost none of us has ever eaten one. In 1927, a frog farm near Kamakura ordered 100 crawfish from New Orleans, as frog food. Only 27 survived the trip. The farm closed. The 27 escaped. Today they live in nearly every ditch and pond in Japan. We catch them with dried squid on a string, keep them in a bucket by the front door, and give them names. To us, they are not food. They are summer vacation. Last May, our company's biggest customer flew to Tokyo. Mr. Landry. 66. Hands like two catcher's mitts. From Breaux Bridge, Louisiana, which, he informed us before he sat down, is the Crawfish Capital of the World. My boss, Mr. Ogata, took him for a walk after lunch. Mr. Ogata has been with our company for 31 years. He eats rice balls with chopsticks. I have worked under him for nine years and never once seen his fingers touch food. At a little pond, a boy was lying on his stomach, pulling up a string. His bucket held about thirty crawfish. Mr. Landry stopped walking. He crouched down. "Hey, little man. Where's your mama boilin' these?" I translated. The boy looked at me like I had asked where his mother boils his hamster. Mr. Ogata explained, very politely, that in Japan, these are for children. Nobody eats them. Mr. Landry stood up slowly. He looked at the pond. Then past it, at the whole city. "How long y'all had 'em?" "Since 1927," I said. "Only 27 survived the boat." "Twenty-seven," he said. "And they took the whole country." He nodded. "Sounds like Louisiana." Then he took off his cap and held it over his heart, like the anthem had started. "Ninety-nine years," he said. "Y'all been sittin' on the biggest crawfish boil in the history of the world. And you been feedin' it squid." Mr. Ogata emailed me at 3:14 the next morning. The subject line was one word: "Zarigani." He had found out that since 2023, Japan's government has listed them as an invasive species. Releasing them is banned. Removing them is encouraged. Mr. Landry read it twice. "Cher," he said, "that ain't a problem. That's a menu." Three weeks later, a 60-quart pot, a propane burner, and ten pounds of seasoning arrived at our office from Louisiana. Mr. Ogata reserved a riverside barbecue spot. The form had a box for "Purpose." He wrote: "To correct a misunderstanding from 1927." That Saturday, eight of us lay on our stomachs at the edge of a river, in collared shirts, with dried squid on strings. When Mr. Ogata pulled up the first one, he made a sound I have never heard come out of a man in a necktie. We caught 214. At six, Mr. Landry joined on video. It was 4 a.m. in Breaux Bridge. He had set an alarm. Mr. Ogata was timing the boil with a stopwatch. "Put the watch away, cher. Taste one. You'll know." Mr. Ogata does not do anything without a number. He looked at the stopwatch for a long time. Then he put it in his pocket. Next came the soak. Fire off. You let them sit in the spice. "How long?" "Till they're right." Our department has a 40-page manual for ordering paper clips. Mr. Ogata gathered us into a small circle, and we held a short meeting about what "right" means. Then he spread newspaper over two folding tables and poured the whole pot out. Crawfish, corn, potatoes, sausage, steam. A red mountain. In Japan, dinner comes in small separate dishes, arranged like a painting. Somebody asked where the plates were. "Table's the plate," said Mr. Landry. Pinch the tail. Suck the head. Mr. Landry showed us twice on the screen. Nobody moved. Then Mr. Ogata picked one up with his bare hands. He pinched the tail. He sucked the head. He closed his eyes. He set the empty shell down on the newspaper, carefully, the way you put down a letter you plan to keep. Then he stood, faced the phone, and bowed. All the way down. "Landry-san. We are sorry it took ninety-nine years." On the screen, Mr. Landry wiped his eye with his thumb. "Naw, cher," he said. "Best part of a boil is the soak. Y'all just did a long one." The boy from the pond came too, with his bucket and his mother. He ate one. Then he stared into his bucket like it had been lying to him his whole life. On Monday at noon, Mr. Ogata ate the leftovers at his desk. With his hands. Tie tucked into his shirt. The president of our company walked by and asked what on earth that was. Mr. Ogata held one out and said, very calmly: "Pinch the tail, sir."

ChatGPT Images 2.5 prompt 👇 Medium shot, eye-level cinematic flash portrait of an extraordinarily striking 18-year-old East Asian woman portraying a rebellious, silver-haired anime schoolgirl inside a minimalist studio. Standing in an edgy, confident stance, she tilts her head slightly, playfully poking out the tip of her pink tongue with an alluring, cheeky smirk. Her right hand is raised toward her face with her index finger lightly touching her cheek beneath her right eye, highlighting her glossy black manicured nails, while her left hand rests casually on her hip. Her facial features are doll-like and dramatic: pale porcelain skin, an exquisite pointed chin, and captivating, clear icy-blue almond eyes accentuated by Jirai-kei style flushed reddish-pink under-eye makeup and winged eyeliner. Her hair is colored in brilliant, pale glacier silver-white, styled in voluminous, shaggy layered wolf-cut locks cascading past her chest with wispy tendrils framing her forehead. She is dressed in an authentic school uniform: a tailored black school blazer featuring crisp white contrast piping along the lapels, worn open over a white collared shirt with a loosely knotted black-and-silver diagonal-striped necktie, paired with a matching high-waisted black pleated mini skirt. The setting is stark and modern: she poses directly before a plain, seamless neutral-grey studio wall. Illuminated by raw direct on-camera flash, creating vivid specular highlights on her silver hair and white shirt while casting a crisp, intense dark drop-shadow onto the wall directly behind her. Photographed on 35mm film at f/2.8, ISO 400, 1/250s, delivering authentic film grain, high-contrast flash aesthetic, and a powerful, fashionable dark anime realism.