يارب ما يتمسح بقا
I’m Mahmoud Khaled, 27, a medical doctor. I have a real hunger to submit and to be pushed to my limits. I want to be owned — my control, my dignity, my pride — everything taken from me until what’s left is only obedience. That sharp rush of exposure and humiliation is what wakes me up; I crave the edge and want to be driven harder, shown my place again and again.
I wear lingerie because it strips me down to a vulnerable, honest version of myself. It isn’t a joke — it’s how I become visible to my own truth. I want someone who will use that vulnerability: order me to wear it, insist I keep it on, make that exposure part of my submission. I want control exercised over me with others present — the deliberate, public domination and the knowledge that people are watching intensifies the feeling of being small and obedient.
There is one experience I ache to try because it promises the ultimate humiliation: cuckolding. The idea of her with someone else, of being reduced and made painfully aware of my inferiority, stirs something deep in me. I want that mix of shame, jealousy, and devotion because it strips away every pretense and proves, beyond doubt, where I belong.
Below are many specific examples — tiny rituals, phrases, postures, and behaviors — that show how I love to obey and how I want to be treated. These are the things that actually move me, that make me feel owned and true to myself:
— Speech & Language
I like to begin and end every reply with a fixed phrase you choose (e.g., “Yes, Mistress.” / “Thank you, Mistress.”).
I will preface anything I say with an admission of my place (“I belong to you,” / “I’m yours to command.”).
I accept corrective language — short, humiliating lines that remind me of my rank — and I repeat them out loud when told to.
I will call you by the title you prefer every time I speak, without hesitation or nickname.
When asked a question, I answer only with the permitted words or short sentences you’ve dictated.
— Posture & Positioning
Kneeling in your presence whenever you walk into the room, head lowered, hands on my thighs.
Sitting with my eyes on the floor until given permission to look up.
Standing with hands behind my back, feet together, chest down — completely still until you move me.
Sleeping or resting in a particular pose you prescribe (e.g., on my knees beside the bed) so my body is always available.
Presenting myself for inspection: small movements only when you ask me to move a finger or look up.
— Routines & Rituals
A daily obedience ritual: a short set of phrases I must say each morning and night to reaffirm my place.
A dressing ritual: I put on the lingerie you selected exactly how you instructed, leave it visible, and do not change until you tell me.
A service chore list: small tasks I complete on demand (making tea just the way you want it, preparing your slippers, arranging your items), executed immediately and without comment.
A “check-in” protocol: before leaving for work or coming home, I report my mood and readiness with only the words you’ve approved.
An arrival ritual: when you return, I drop what I’m doing, kneel, and greet you with the phrase you taught me.
— Verbal & Behavioral Tests
Saying prescribed affirmations on command and repeating them until your tone shows satisfaction.
Being given a short task with a time limit and knowing that any hesitation or complaint is punished by further commands.
Answering quiz-like questions about the rules and my duties; my failure means extra tasks or humiliation.
Receiving deliberate, small provocations (a harsh word or cold tone) to test if I obey through discomfort.
— Public / Social Control
Wearing the lingerie under ordinary clothes while you control how I behave in public: the knowledge alone makes me feel exposed.
Carrying myself in a posture you’ve taught me when we’re around others (smaller voice, lowered gaze, submissive stance).
Small public commands you issue subtly (a look, a phrase) that make me obey in front of others — the fear of being seen slipping up sharpens my obedience.
Being required to perform a non-sexual public task (e.g., fetching your coat) in a way that reveals my submissive role to a chosen audience.
— Tasks of Service & Proofs of Loyalty
Running an errand exactly as you say, reporting back with a short statement of completion.
Completing a list of small domestic tasks precisely and immediately when ordered, without asking questions.
Memorizing and reciting short lines that prove my devotion and repeating them on request.
Accepting a schedule you set for when I may speak, when I may eat, or when I may rest — and following it.
— Humiliation & Degradation (verbal / symbolic)
Accepting certain degrading labels you assign in private or as part of our dynamic, said only in the controlled context you define.
Being reminded of my place with brief, sharp phrases (e.g., “You exist to serve,”) that make me shrink inward yet feel secure in my role.
Tasks that highlight my dependence — small acts of service that underscore my lower position.
— Challenges That Push Limits
Timed obedience tasks where I must act instantly on any order to prove reflexive submission.
Assignments involving deliberate discomfort that are not harmful but test my willingness to endure (longer periods of stillness, prolonged silence, extended kneeling).
Controlled exposure to social embarrassment (non-sexual) that forces me to cope with shame and translate it into deeper obedience.
Situations where I’m told to surrender a small, treasured thing (an item, a privilege) temporarily to prove I value your command over my own comfort.
— Aftermath & Acknowledgement
Small acknowledgments from you after I obey — a single approving word, a permitted glance — mean more than grand praise.
Short, quiet debriefs where I’m told what I did right and what I can improve; these correctives sharpen my obedience.
Occasional rewards that are measured and rare: a private word of approval, permission to speak freely for a minute, or a special small task that only I can perform.
I don’t want long essays about safety here; this is the truth of what moves me — the structure, the rituals, the tiny details that make submission real for me. I crave precise rules I can follow automatically, public moments that intensify my exposure, tasks that measure my loyalty, and tests that show me exactly how far I’ll go. I want to be ordered in speech and in body, to be made to perform the smallest services perfectly, and to be proven over and over that my place is beneath someone who chooses to command me.
At the end of the day, I don’t ask for much from the world. I want to live as my true self, without shame — to be allowed to want this and to be loved for it. I — Mahmoud Khaled, 27, a doctor — deserve to be loved, and all I want is to be myself.
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