Every platform built on dealing you people treats a profile without a photograph as a fault to be corrected, and it will nag you about it for as long as you stay. Mine has been text only for nine years and it is staying that way. The interesting part is what that does to who writes to me. On the visual products, nobody at all. On the written ones, people who have read something and have a question about it.
Thirty five, west London, dominant. I am not hiding. I will be in a room with somebody early and I am perfectly recognisable when I get there. I simply do not want my face sitting in a database while a stranger decides about me in half a second, and I have never had a satisfactory answer as to why that should be the entry fee.
What I run is precise. A defined arrangement with written terms, a fixed evening, escalation discussed beforehand rather than improvised in the moment, and a habit of stopping to check that has occasionally irritated people who wanted to be swept along.
I want a submissive who is verbal, self aware, and able to say no to me in an ordinary voice.
Not looking for anyone whose first question is what I look like, because the answer is unremarkable and you can find out over a coffee. Not looking for a costume. And not looking for anybody who needs constant contact, because I answer once a day and that is not going to change.