Under The Whip

Over the past two weeks, I have noticed something gentle but profound unfolding inside of me. The fog that had been quietly clinging to my thoughts has begun to lift. I feel lighter. Less depressed. Not only as an individual woman, but as a submissive within my dynamic. As a slave in service. As someone deeply devoted to her Masters and to the structure of their House. The shift has been subtle, but undeniable. It feels like the first warm morning after a long, biting winter, when you open the door and realize the air no longer hurts your lungs. The sun is simply, there again.

For a long time, I have prided myself on being someone others can come to. I have always offered my ear, my heart, and when asked, my counsel. I speak from lived experience, from trials endured, lessons learned, mistakes owned. Service to community has always mattered to me. I believe mentorship, when done ethically and with humility, is sacred work. But what I did not realize was how much constant exposure to other people’s relational distress was quietly shaping my own internal world.

Over and over, I found myself in conversations where dynamics were criticized, partners were dissected, Masters were doubted, slaves were resentful. And inevitably the question would come: “How did you survive what you went through?” or “How do you make it work?” And I would answer. Thoughtfully. Earnestly. Drawing from my own past pain. What I failed to notice was that this created a kind of emotional merry go round. To help someone feel less alone, I would revisit difficult chapters of my own history. To validate their struggle, I would mentally reenter storms I had already weathered. To offer guidance, I would place myself back into the mindset of hardship rather than stability.

Psychologically, this makes sense. Humans coregulate. We mirror one another’s emotional states. Research in social psychology shows that repeated exposure to negative relational narratives primes our brains to scan for similar threats in our own lives. This is called negative attentional bias, the more we hear about betrayal, neglect, resentment, or imbalance, the more our nervous system begins to search for those patterns around us.

And when the majority of your conversations center around what is wrong, your mind begins to highlight flaws that were once neutral, or even endearing. I spoke about this once in a class I taught, if you place a happily partnered person in a social circle dominated by divorces and breakups, something subtle begins to happen. They start noticing every minor irritation in their own relationship. Habits that never truly bothered them become magnified. Small quirks become evidence. The lens shifts. Not because the relationship changed, but because the narrative environment did.

I now believe this is exactly what was happening to me.

As submissives, and especially those of us who serve within structured dynamics, we often hold space for others. We mentor. We soothe. We contextualize. We help people regulate. But when that becomes the only emotional environment we occupy, we never step out of “advisor mode.” We never return to simply being. And being is vital.

These past two weeks, without constant immersion in those heavy conversations, I have felt something realign. My dynamic feels softer. Warmer. My connection with my Masters feels clearer. My bond with their other slave feels more harmonious. The relief has been physical, like a weight lifting from my shoulders. Nothing about my House changed. What changed was the emotional climate I allowed myself to live in.

Misery may love company, but I do not need to live inside it to be compassionate. There is a difference between service and self sacrifice of emotional stability. There is a difference between mentorship and marinating in dysfunction. Boundaries are not cruelty. They are stewardship.

From here on out, I will still be of service to my community. I will still be present for my friends. I will still offer guidance when it is genuinely sought and appropriate. But I will no longer be constantly surrounded by those who only wish to dwell in negativity. You have to be around me for good times too.

If I begin to notice that the majority of our interactions revolve around complaints, bitterness, or cyclical relational drama, I will gently distance myself. Not from lack of care, but from devotion to my priorities. My relationship with my Masters. My harmony within my House. My service to the House of Koch, and my own peace. These are not things I will allow to be eroded by passing friendships or repetitive despair.

I am a submissive. My service is intentional. My devotion is chosen. And my emotional stewardship is part of that service. The sun is shining again. And I intend to stand in it.

I want to say this as clearly and as gently as I can, if you reach out for support, you are not a burden, and it is not a sign of weakness. That is what I am here for. I have no issue sharing space with you when you need it. Whether you need to vent, are looking for advice, or need help locating information or resources to assist you. I do my best to help and to serve our community, and I take pride in being someone who can be there so you feel seen, heard, and valued.

Part of why this matters so much to me is because there was a time in my own life when I truly felt alone, like I had no one at all. I never want another person to feel that way if I can help it.

With that said, I also want to be honest, I am human. I make mistakes like everyone else, and I have my own struggles, including a very stressful vanilla life situation right now. There will be days when I simply have no spoons to assist anyone. When I say I have no spoons, please understand that it is not rejection. It just means I may need a little time, maybe a couple of hours, to reset before I can fully share space with you in the way you deserve.

I am also not a crisis professional, and I cannot advise on crisis situations. If you are in that space, I will always encourage you to contact trained professionals and provide information to help you reach them. There is absolutely no shame in asking me to help you find that support, or even to sit with you while you make that call. If needed, I would even sit with you at a hospital and hold your hand while you talk to doctors and tell them you need help.

Because you are valued and you bring something beautiful to this world, even if you cannot see it right now.

I

do want to be clear about one thing though, I am not an echo chamber. Seeking help or support is not weakness, it is strength. You are never a burden for needing help, and you never need to apologize to me for reaching out. That said, sharing space with me should also be a place for growth. A place to learn from mistakes, to be accountable when needed, and to keep moving forward. You will not be judged here, and you will be respected, appreciated, and encouraged to grow into the best version of yourself.

We all need help sometimes. We all need support. We all make mistakes. And all of that is okay, as long as we learn, grow, and keep giving ourselves grace along the way. So please reach out. Seek support. Seek connection. And most importantly, be gentle with yourself as you grow into an even more beautiful version of who you are becoming.

Content Warning - This writing briefly references physical and sexual abuse.

Lately, I’ve been listening to a handful of podcasts, and one episode in particular stuck with me long after it ended, not because it was profound, but because it echoed a mindset that’s been circulating loudly for well over a decade. If I’m being honest, it is exhausting to hear the same narrative repeated without nuance, reflection, or depth.

I’ve also noticed a pattern here on social media, Posts fueled by rage, blanket hatred, and inflammatory soundbites often rise in popularity, while thoughtful reflections rooted in lived experience quietly fade away. As tempting as it is to unpack those double standards, that isn’t why I’m writing today.

What I am writing about is something a woman said during that podcast, and the reaction it stirred in me, shaped by my own experiences and the life I’ve lived.

During the episode, a man interviewed a woman who openly stated that she hates men. Her words were blunt and unapologetic: men suck, men are trash, and she wouldn’t save a man even if he were on fire. She'd rather be with the bear, over a man. When the interviewer asked a simple follow-up, “Why do you hate men?”, she replied that men harm women, and therefore all men are predators, rapists, and murderers.

When asked whether a man had ever harmed her, physically, sexually, emotionally, or mentally, her answer was no, not a single time in her life. She explained that her beliefs came entirely from what she sees on social media.

And this is where I struggle.

Her worldview wasn’t shaped by lived experience, but by headlines, outrage cycles, and algorithm driven content designed to provoke fear and anger. Much of what circulates online isn’t always factual. Some stories are satire. Some are exaggerated. Some are misinformation crafted for clicks. Others are real and heartbreaking, but stripped of context. This is why I don’t live by rumors. I choose facts, evidence, and critical thinking.

Let me be very clear: yes, some men can and do cause harm. Some of that harm is violent, devastating, and deserving of serious accountability within the justice system. I also know many people never report what happens to them, out of fear, shame, guilt, or concern for retaliation.

I know how hard that is. I’ve reported before and was blamed for what happened because I “allowed myself” to be in that situation. That response is crushing, and it needs to change.

But it is not all men.

Blaming an entire gender for the actions of a subset isn’t awareness, it is projection. And it is dangerous thinking.

I find it deeply ironic when I hear women, even the one on the podcast, say they’d rather be lost in the woods with a bear than with a man. This is why I find this hilarious.

Bears are not evil, but they are powerful wild predators. Black bears, often labeled “less aggressive,” are still fast, strong, and capable of predatory behavior, especially if a person is injured, isolated, or vulnerable. Trees and distance are not reliable protection, and predatory attacks tend to involve stalking and persistence.

Brown bears and polar bears pose even greater danger. Grizzlies are massively strong, territorial, and capable of sudden, overwhelming defensive attacks, particularly near cubs. Polar bears are the most dangerous of all, as they actively hunt large prey and will investigate humans as food. Alone in polar bear territory, there is virtually no margin for error.

Being lost in the woods with a man is fundamentally different. A man is capable of communication, empathy, moral choice, and cooperation. He can assess risk, share resources, seek help, deescalate conflict, and act with intention and restraint. A bear cannot. Wildlife danger is absolute and uncontrollable, human interaction always carries the possibility of shared humanity.

Before anyone questions whether I have the “right” to speak on this, here is my reality.

I have been assaulted. I have been beaten, punched in the face by one ex, put into a coma by another. I was jumped as a teenager and had my face smashed with a rock. I was sexually assaulted. I was molested as a child. If anyone could justify hatred by experience alone, it would be me.

And yet, I don’t hate all men.

Because blame belongs exactly where it should: on the people who committed the harm. Not on an entire gender. Not on a stranger who has done nothing wrong.

What breaks my heart is the messaging that has dominated the last decade or two. The idea that men should be erased, silenced, canceled, or told they shouldn’t exist at all. Sometimes the rhetoric goes so far as telling men they should kill themselves.

My brothers grew up hearing that. My nephews are growing up hearing that. My Masters lived through that narrative. And that is profoundly wrong. What I often see is unprocessed pain projected outward, paired with a lack of critical thinking skills. Many of the people speaking this way need healing, emotional maturity, and support. With growth, this language often softens, I just wish it didn’t take so long.

What made the podcast conversation even more disheartening was hearing this woman say she wants to date men. She wants to marry one. I genuinely wonder how someone can hate an entire group while still craving intimacy, partnership, and love from them?

Why, I love men.

Men are not evil. I will never hate them. I love them. I love their creativity and ingenuity. I love their strength, physical, emotional, and moral. I love their steadiness in crisis and their protective instincts. I love their quiet loyalty and their willingness to carry unseen weight. I love their problem-solving minds, their sense of honor, and their growth through responsibility. I love how many of them show love through action rather than words. And yes, I love how handsome they are, in all their imperfect, human ways.

And honestly?

Whether you like it or not, We need them.

Reflections from the Holy Fire Conference.

A take away from the Master/Slave Relationships as a Spiritual Path class, Presented By Raven Kaldera and Joshua Tenpenny

I had the most wonderful time at the Holy Fire Conference. Truly, it was the best way I could have imagined to kick start 2026. I learned so much, and yet the biggest thing I walked away with wasn’t a technique or a protocol, it was the realization that I still have so much room to grow within myself, as a slave, and within my submission.

There are times when my Masters give me a task. Tasks that, honestly, should be simple. Even fun. And before I go any further, I want to be very clear, I do complete the tasks. There is no disobedience there. But what I had never really looked at before was what was happening inside me while I was doing them. The grumbling. The complaining. The quiet judgment that something was mundane, boring, or not intellectually stimulating enough.

My Masters usually laughed it off. They would tell me “too bad, you’re still doing it,” and I would go do it. The task would be completed, and we would move on. I never stopped to ask myself, or them, whether my attitude caused harm. I never even considered that it might. For that lack of awareness, I am deeply upset with myself, and genuinely sorry.

During Raven Kaldera’s first class at Holy Fire, they said something that landed straight in my chest.

“Service should not be performed with grumbling in the heart.” Raven Kaldera

That sentence cracked something open in me. Because the truth is, I do this. And after a lot of reflection, I’m beginning to understand just how harmful it can be.

Serving with a grumbling heart doesn’t just make me appear ungrateful, when service itself is an honor I am privileged to give, it can undermine my Masters’ authority and role in our dynamic. It can chip away at their confidence. It can dull their desire to ask me to serve at all. And the thought of never being asked to serve again? That would be devastating to my heart.

I also realized that when I grumble, I am not serving from a spiritual place of love and devotion. Anyone can perform an action mechanically. Fetch the cup. Fill it. Set it down. Obedience alone can do that. But for me, service has always been about intention. It is about how I prepare the cup, how I fill it, how I carry it. How I present it with grace, how I kiss the rim before setting it into their hands. It is meant to be an act of love. Of beauty. Of devotion.

So why have I been serving with a grumbling heart?

Right now, I don’t have that answer. And yes, that’s disappointing. But I am doing the work to find it. What I do have now is awareness, and that matters. Awareness means I can catch myself. Awareness means I can shift my mindset. Awareness gives me the opportunity to realign my service so that it honors my Masters, my surrender, and myself.

Moving forward, I am choosing to offer my full surrender in service. I am choosing to meet tasks with an open heart, a soft smile, and a willing spirit. I’ve been thinking a lot about how, when my Masters ask me to engage with something that excites them, a book, a show, a video game that doesn’t immediately interest me. I don’t want to just “get through it.” I want to find my way into it. To discover something that genuinely sparks my curiosity. To participate, not just comply.

I don’t want to merely obey. I want to belong in the service. I want to live in it. Ritualize it. Breathe meaning into it. So I am taking Raven’s words deeply to heart, and I will do my best to never serve with a grumbling heart again. 2026 is going to be about growth for me. About stepping forward more fully. About surrendering deeper, softer, and with greater intention. I serve because I get to serve. And that is an honor I never want to forget.

Lately, I’ve been watching a few of my friends step into the world of kink with intention. They’re not naïve. They know what they want, what they need, and, most importantly, what they will not tolerate. They ask questions. They set boundaries. They move slowly and thoughtfully. And honestly? I respect the hell out of that.

Which brings me to why I’m writing this.

Recently, I had a conversation with a man who, very clearly, was barking up the wrong tree. I am deeply happy in my not so perfect, very real dynamic with both of my Masters. Still, conversation happened. He identified himself as a Dominant. Naturally, I asked the kinds of questions many of us do: Leather lifestyle? Philosophies like Gorean? Sadist? Experience with power exchange beyond the bedroom?

And that’s when the mask slipped.

He admitted he only lists himself as a Dominant because it is “easier to meet women” and get them into bed. No interest in power exchange. No desire for responsibility, structure, care, or accountability. Just casual sex, wrapped in a stolen title.

I found it disgusting. Predatory. And yes, in my personal opinion, behavior like that edges dangerously close to sexual assault because it relies on deception and exploitation. I told him plainly to never contact me again and to stop lying to people to use them.

Now here’s the part that truly breaks my heart.

As my friend continues her search for a healthy, consensual dynamic, this is all she seems to find. Men who claim dominance but offer nothing beyond “hello… can I see your naked pictures?” Men who apply pressure immediately. Men who vanish the moment boundaries appear. So I have to ask: how did we get here?

Are these men actually Dominants seeking meaningful, ethical power exchange, or are they simply using a title as bait? How has our community fallen so far that this behavior is not only tolerated, but common?

Let me be clear, there is absolutely space in kink for casual sex, fetish play, swingers, and purely physical encounters. That is not the problem. The problem is lying. If you want kink without commitment, say that. Stay in your lane. Do not masquerade as something you are not. Trust me, we can see right through you.

I believe we have a responsibility as a community to uphold standards. Words like Dominant and submissive mean something. When we allow people to misuse them, others get hurt. I wish I had a better solution than quietly keeping my own list of people I refuse to allow at my events, but right now, that’s where I’m at.

So all I can really do is write. And warn.

There are people out there claiming titles they have not earned. Some will say they are Dominant. Others will say they are submissive. And some will use those labels to extract sex, money, labor, attention, or control, without consent or integrity.

Please be mindful. Ask the hard questions. Take your time. If someone pressures you to give more, move faster, or ignore your instincts before you’re ready, see that for what it is.

A massive red flag.

You are allowed to say no thank you. You are allowed to walk away. And you are allowed to demand honesty in a community built on trust.

Stay safe out there.
 

Cheating Is a Violation of Consent, and Yes, I Believe It Is Abuse
My response to a blog post

Disclaimer - This piece briefly references my own experiences with abuse. I do not go into detail and only mention one or two aspects in passing.

I want to be very clear about where I’m coming from, because context matters. I have never cheated on any romantic partner I chose to be in a relationship with. Ever. I have cheated at games when I was younger. I have cheated people out of money when I was younger. And I have absolutely cheated myself out of good opportunities through self sabotage. I have also been cheated on.

And that last one is why I am saying, unapologetically and from lived experience: **cheating is a violation of consent, a complete betrayal of trust, and yes,, abuse. **This is my personal opinion, shaped by my own history, my own trauma, and what I have witnessed over decades, of being my father's daughter.

Why I Call Cheating Abuse
When I say cheating is abuse, I am not talking about morality, religion, or purity culture. I am talking about harm. When I choose to be in an exclusive relationship with someone, and we mutually agree that we are only with each other, that agreement is a consensual boundary. I am consenting to that relationship based on that agreement. I am placing trust in that person not to violate it.

When that trust is broken, the damage isn’t abstract.

Cheating left me with deep emotional wounds. It shattered my ability to trust. I tried to stay with someone who cheated on me, and it was one of the most painful things I’ve ever done. Every interaction became filled with doubt. Were they lying? Were they still cheating? Could I believe anything they said?

The answer was no. There was no way to rebuild trust after that betrayal.

And the damage didn’t stop there. I carried those trust issues into future relationships. I developed severe anxiety. It triggered abandonment wounds rooted in childhood trauma. I had to create very firm boundaries just to feel safe again. And yes, when you knowingly cause emotional or psychological harm, that is abuse to me. Physical harm is not the only kind that matters.

This Isn’t Just About Me
I didn’t only live this, I watched it.

I watched someone I loved endure 18 years of constant cheating. I watched what it did to her sense of worth, her stability, her ability to leave. My father cheated on my mother repeatedly. He would find a new woman, drain the bank accounts while my mom was at work, and disappear. I would come home from school to an empty house, no furniture. He was “kind” enough to leave my toy box. He didn’t leave my bed, though. I would need that when I was forced to visit him. Which I never wanted to do, but judges didn’t care about children being abused when I was growing up. Not even sure they do at all.

People love to justify cheating by saying, *“It’s better for the kids if the parents stay together.” *That argument is absolute bullshit. What actually happened was this, my mother had no support. Four kids. No help. Every time my father begged her to come back so he wouldn’t have to pay child support, she returned. And that instability shaped me deeply.

By my early twenties, I was terrified to set boundaries in relationships. Terrified to say no. Terrified that if I did, I would be abandoned. I stayed quiet, compliant, and afraid, not because I wanted to, but because that’s what survival taught me. So no, cheating “for the kids” is not noble. It is damaging. And using children as justification disgusts me.

Addressing the “Cheating Isn’t Abuse” Argument
I’ve seen a lot of arguments lately that try to frame cheating as ethically justified, often dressed up in language about autonomy, sex positivity, or rebellion against monogamy. And honestly? Much of it is misinformation rooted in a shallow understanding of consent and trauma. Yes, statistics about infidelity vary wildly. Yes, monogamy is culturally enforced. Yes, divorce is hard. Yes, sexual dissatisfaction is real.

None of that negates this truth, Consent is contextual.

If I consent to an exclusive relationship, and my partner knowingly violates that agreement while continuing to benefit from my emotional labor, trust, and commitment, my autonomy is impacted. My body, my mental health, my emotional safety, and my ability to make informed choices are all compromised.

Breaking an agreement may not be the same as sexual assault, and I am not equating the two, but minimizing the harm because “it’s not rape” is intellectually dishonest and emotionally cruel. Saying cheating isn’t a violation of consent ignores how consent actually works in relationships. I did not consent to share my emotional life, sexual health risks, or relational energy with unseen third parties. I consented to exclusivity.

Monogamy, Polyamory, and Personal Responsibility
I am not anti polyamory. I am not anti ENM. I am not anti sexual freedom. I am anti lying. If you are sexually dissatisfied, you have options, and none of them require deception.

• You can communicate honestly
• You can negotiate (and accept a no)
• You can leave

What you do not get to do is stay, lie, and then frame your betrayal as ethical rebellion. If you asked for an open relationship and your partner said no, that was their boundary. If you know you cannot be happy honoring that boundary, then the ethical choice is to walk away. Staying and cheating is not kindness. It is cowardice.

“But Leaving Is Hard”
Yes. Leaving is hard. Divorce is devastating. Economic fallout is real. Children complicate everything. I know this intimately. But choosing the option that causes ongoing, invisible harm instead of short term upheaval doesn’t make it right. It just spreads the damage over years, and often passes it directly to the children who are watching and learning what love looks like.

Children raised in homes where betrayal is normalized often grow up believing that suffering is the price of connection. I am living proof of that.

Where I Am Now
I am not healed. I am a work in progress. Baby step by baby step. What I am deeply grateful for is that I have two amazing partners in my life now, partners who understand that I carry childhood trauma, that I survived an abusive marriage, and that I am actively working to be better than the person trauma tried to turn me into.

I have come a long way in the last ten years. Therapy helped. My stubborn refusal to stay broken helped more. I made promises to myself, • I will never tolerate cheating again • I will never be afraid of someone walking away from me
• “No” is a full sentence •Boundaries do not require guilt or justification

And I will stand by this belief until my last breath,

If you think you need to cheat on someone to be happy enough to stay, do them a favor and leave. If you truly care about them, prove it with honesty. If you have children, understand that what you model becomes their blueprint. Cheating doesn’t protect relationships. It destroys people. And I will never stop naming that harm for what it is.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the Gorean novels and what they actually say about slavery, devotion, and desire, especially when compared to how parts of the Gorean Lifestyle sometimes get practiced or spoken about today. This is coming from my own heart, from a place of submission, reflection, and love for the philosophy as I understand it.

In the books, it is very clear that most often there is one slave for one Master. That bond matters. Many kajirae become love slaves, deeply cherished, deeply wanted, and deeply seen by their Masters. Even when the text explores darker or more controversial elements, such as Masters who genetically created slaves with deformities because they found them exotic. It still reinforces one powerful truth, every slave was unique. No two were the same. No two were desired for the same reasons. Slaves were not interchangeable objects, they were individuals, shaped by purpose, temperament, body, and spirit.

That’s why it truly troubles me when, in the Gorean Lifestyle, I hear kajirae tearing each other down. “She’s not obedient enough.” “She’s not pleasing.” “She doesn’t have this skill or that skill.” As if there is a single mold we are all supposed to fit into. As if worth is measured by a checklist instead of by presence, intention, and devotion.

The books never supported that idea. Quite the opposite. Masters celebrated their slaves. They delighted in their differences. One slave might be prized for grace, another for fire, another for softness, another for endurance. Diversity wasn’t a flaw, it was the point. It was what made ownership meaningful and desire specific.

As a kajira at heart, I believe this deeply, I do not need to be like any other slave to be valuable. And neither do you. We are not meant to mirror each other. We are meant to be ourselves, offered honestly and fully, for the Master who desires exactly what we are.

So please, do not berate another slave for not being you, for not serving the way you serve, or for walking a different path of obedience. She is not you. And honestly? Her Master likely prefers it that way.

Submission is not sameness. It is sincerity. And diversity, in all its forms, is a beautiful thing worthy of celebration.

Some quotes from the books. That either reference specific types of slaves, or how the Master's will and pleasure controls them.
For More Research - Please Read The Series!

It is a beautiful moment when the woman realizes that the man who owns her is her love master, and the man realizes that the girl he bought, looking up at him, tears in her eyes, is his love slave.
Then the only danger is that he will weaken. One must be strong with a love slave. If one truly loves her, he will be that strong. The slavery in which a love slave is kept is an unusually deep slavery. She must serve him with a perfection which would stun and startle other girls; if she should fail in any way, even in so small a way that the lapse would be overlooked in the case of another wench, or bring perhaps a mild word of reprimand, she is likely to be tied at the slave ring and whipped; there is a good reason for this; she is, you see, a love slave; no woman can be more in a man's power; and with no woman must he be stronger. Beasts of Gor Book 12 Page 236

Though any Gorean male might make me, in spite of myself, a panting, orgasmic slave in his arms, I knew it had been only he, Clitus Vitellius, whom I had truly loved, and yet loved. In his arms I had always been the most helpless. He was my love master. Slave Girl of Gor Book 11 Page 358

Lara's lips had been rich and fine, sensitive and curious, tender, eager, hungry; the lips of Vika were maddening; I recalled those lips, full and red, pouting, defiant, scornful, scarlet with a slave girl's challenge to my blood; I wondered if Vika might be a bred slave, a Passion Slave, one of those girls bred for beauty and passion over generations by the zealous owners of the great Slave Houses of Ar, for lips such as Vika's were a feature often bred into Passion Slaves; they were lips formed for the kiss of a master. Priest-Kings of Gor Book 3 Page 53

Ho-Hak's right ear twitched. His ears were unusual, very large, and with extremely long lower lobes, drawn lower still by small, heavy pendants set in them. He had been a slave, doubtless, and, doubtless, judging by the collar, and the large hands and broad back, had served on the galleys, but he had been an unusual slave, a bred exotic, doubtless originally intended by the slave maters for a destiny higher than that of galley bench.
There are various types of "exotics" bred by Gorean slavers, all of whom are to be distinguished from more normal varieties of bred slaves, such as Passion Slaves and Draft Slaves. Exotics may be bred for almost any purpose, and some of these purposes, unfortunately, seem to be little more than to produce quaint or unusual specimens. Ho-Hak may well have been one so bred.
"You are an exotic," I said to him.
Ho-Hak's ears leaned forward toward me, but he did not seem angry. He had brown hair, and brown eyes; the hair, long, was tied behind his head with a string of rence cloth. He wore a sleeveless tunic of rence cloth, like most of the rence growers.
"Yes," said Ho-Hak. "I was bred for a collector."
"I see," I said.

"I broke his neck and escaped," said Ho-Hak. "Later I was recaptured and sent to the galleys."
"And you again escaped," I said.
"In doing so," said Ho-Hak, looking at his large hands, heavy and powerful, "I killed six men." Raiders of Gor Book 6 Pages 15 - 16

Ho-Hak had been bred a slave, a degraded and distorted exotic, Raiders of Gor Book 6 Page 88

I have not mentioned exotics, incidentally, slaves bred or trained for unusual purposes. Fighting Slave of Gor Book 14 Page 164

Another slave, an exotic, bred for stripes, put more laundry beside her. Prize of Gor Book 27 Page 136

[More Quotes On Exotics and Bred Slaves, Both Male, and Female]()

"You will learn to
wear tunics, and silks, and bangles," I said. "You will be taught to kneel and move. You may be perfumed and painted. Swordsmen of Gor Book 29 Page 383

Just as, in our world, it is not uncommon to seek the advice of an interior decorator in obtaining and organizing the appointments of one's own dwelling, so, too, in the Gorean world, it is not uncommon to call in a trainer and beautician to appraise and improve a girl. Slave Girl of Gor Book 11 Page 216

Men are so vain. You should see how some of them lead naked, painted, bejeweled slaves about on leashes, put them through slave paces publicly, make them dance in the open for tarsk-bits, put them up as stakes in the dicing halls, and marketplaces, and such. Prize of Gor Book 27 Page 154

This was the day of my collaring. I was not permitted cosmetics. Captive of Gor Book 7 Page 269

How incredibly, and yet rationally and justifiably, I felt at his mercy. He was my master. He owned me. He could do whatever he wanted with me. He could trade me or sell me, or even slay me upon a whim, should he wish. I was absolutely his, his girl. Slave Girl of Gor Book 11 Page 108

I would allow Vika to share the great stone couch, it's sleeping pelts, and silken sheets. This was unusual, however, for normally the Gorean slave girl sleeps at the foot of her Masters couch, often on a straw mat with only a thin, cotton-like blanket, woven from the soft fibers of the Rep plant, to protect her from the cold. If she has not pleased her Master of late, she may be, of course, as a disciplinary measure, simply chained nude to the slave ring in the bottom of the couch, sans both the blanket and the mat. The stones of the floor are hard and the Gorean nights cold and it is a rare girl who, when unchained in the morning, does not seek more dutifully to serve her master. Priest ings of Gor Book 3 Page 67

How incredibly, and yet rationally and justifiably, I felt at his mercy. He was my master. He owned me. He could do whatever he wanted with me. He could trade me or sell me, or even slay me upon a whim, should he wish. I was absolutely his, his girl. Slave Girl of Gor Book 11 Page 108

A Norse Pagan Journey Through the Winter Solstice
December 21, 2025 - January 1, 2026

As a Norse Pagan, Yule is one of the most sacred and grounding times of the year for me. It isn’t just one night of celebration, it is twelve nights of reflection, honoring the Gods, the ancestors, the land, and ourselves as we pass through the longest darkness and welcome the slow return of the light.

I wanted to share a friendly, educational breakdown of the 12 Nights of Yule, what each night traditionally represents, and simple ways I like to observe them. You don’t need to do everything perfectly, Yule is about intention, not pressure.

Night 1 Mother Night (Mōdraniht)
Represents - The Mothers, Disir, female ancestors, lineage
**How to celebrate - **Light candles, honor your maternal line, sit quietly, journal, or make offerings to the Disir. This night is gentle and introspective.

Night 2 - Fate & the Norns
Represents - Wyrd, destiny, the threads of our lives
**How to celebrate - ** Reflect on the past year, do divination, write what you’re releasing and what you’re weaving forward.

Night 3 - Frigg & the Hearth
Represents - Home, protection, marriage, care
**How to celebrate - ** Clean your space, tend the hearth (literal or symbolic), cook something comforting, and focus on home energy.

Night 4 - Freyr
Represents - Fertility, peace, prosperity
**How to celebrate - ** Offer grains, bread, or drink. Set intentions for abundance and growth in the coming year.

Night 5 - Freyja
Represents - Love, magic, sovereignty, desire
**How to celebrate - ** Self care, glamour magic, devotion, or honoring your own power and worth.

Night 6 - Ancestors
**Represents - **Those who came before us
**How to celebrate - ** Share stories, set out food or drink, speak their names, or sit in gratitude for the lives that made yours possible.

Night 7 - The Wild Hunt (Odin)
Represents - Chaos, wisdom, transformation
**How to celebrate - ** Drumming, chanting, offerings to Odin, time outdoors, or embracing shadow work and truth.

Night 8 - Thor
**Represents - ** Protection, strength, boundaries
**How to celebrate - ** Ask for protection over your home and loved ones. This is a great night for warding and grounding.

Night 9 - Wisdom & Sacrifice
Represents - What we give to grow
**How to celebrate - ** Reflect on lessons learned, what you’ve sacrificed, and what knowledge cost you something to gain.

Night 10 - The Landvættir
**Represents - **Land spirits, nature, balance
**How to celebrate - ** Offerings to the land, water, or animals. Thank the spirits of the place you live.

Night 11 - The Returning Sun
**Represents - **Hope, rebirth, light
**How to celebrate - **Candles, joy, laughter, feasting, community. This is when celebration really blooms.

Night 12 - Oaths & New Beginnings
Represents: -Renewal, vows, the coming year
How to celebrate - Make oaths carefully. Speak intentions aloud. Close Yule with gratitude and hope.

Yule doesn’t have to be loud or elaborate. Some nights I drum and sing to Odin under the stars. Other nights I sit quietly with a candle and my thoughts. Both are sacred.

If you’re new to Norse Paganism, or just curious, I hope this helps make Yule feel a little more approachable, and a little more magical.

May your Yule be warm, your hearth protected, and your path lit as the sun slowly returns.

As a Norse Pagan, Yule is one of the most sacred and meaningful times of the year for me. It isn’t just a “holiday”, it is a season, a spiritual reset, and a reminder that even in the deepest dark, light always returns.

Yule marks the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year. It is the turning point of the wheel, when the sun is reborn and the slow return of light begins. Spiritually, it represents death and rebirth, rest and renewal, honoring the ancestors, and trusting that growth is happening even when we cannot see it.

Traditionally, Yule isn’t just one day. In Norse practice, it often spans 12 nights, beginning on the Solstice. Each night holds its own energy, a time for reflection, intention setting, honoring the Gods, and connecting with kin, both living and dead.

For me, Yule is about slowing down. It is about sitting with the dark instead of fearing it. It is a time to honor Odin for wisdom and sacrifice, to acknowledge the strength of the Gods and Goddesses, and to thank them for walking with us through hardship and transformation. Yule reminds me that survival itself is sacred.

In my house, Yule is cozy, intentional, and deeply personal.

I decorate with evergreens, pinecones, candles, and symbols of the Norse Gods.

I light candles each night to honor the returning sun.

I keep an altar refreshed with offerings, mead, bread, apples, and written intentions.

I spend time journaling, reflecting on the year behind me and what I want to carry forward.

I honor my ancestors, speaking their names and thanking them for the strength I carry.

There is always good food, warmth, laughter, and moments of quiet reverence.

Something I still do every Yule is a tradition I shared with my Mema. We would make a big pot of hot cocoa, stirring in peppermint, then turn off most of the lights and sit quietly by the fireplace. Soft holiday music would play in the background, the tree glowing, the house fully decorated, and we would simply exist in the peace of the moment. I continue this tradition today, even though she has been gone for twenty years. It is how I honor her memory, and how I feel closest to her on the Solstice.

Some nights are celebratory. Others are soft and introspective. Both are equally sacred. Tonight I’ll likely step outside with my frankincense and my drum, singing to Odin and raising a toast in his honor. While I don’t have mead this year, I do have a very special imported beer from Bavaria that Calvin and I will share, and that feels just as meaningful. I’ll make my offerings to the Gods, then spend the rest of the evening enjoying the company of family and friends.

Yule doesn’t demand perfection. It asks for honesty, presence, and respect for the cycles of life. It teaches patience, resilience, and trust in the turning of time. And honestly? It gives me permission to rest without guilt.

So if you celebrate Yule, or are simply curious. I hope this season brings you warmth, peace, and a reminder that even the longest night gives way to dawn.

Hail Odin!

Hail the Old Gods.
Hail the returning sun.
And happy Yule to those who walk this path.

Skal!

I pride myself on mentoring people in this lifestyle. It is something I hold close to my heart, and I take it seriously. I tend to mentor one on one, quietly, intentionally, and with a lot of care.

I also want to be very clear about one boundary I keep for myself, I don’t mentor Dominants. That isn’t judgment, it is ethics, at least as I understand them. In my world, Dominants should be mentored by other Dominants, and submissives by other submissives. Power deserves to be learned from those who live it from the same side of the slash. But that’s a deeper conversation for another day.

That is my opinion. No, I will not argue it, in the comment section.

Recently, someone asked me what I like to start with when I mentor. What’s the first lesson? What do I teach right out the gate? The honest answer is, it depends. I know how much people hate that response. It is so vague.

Most of my mentoring is tailored specifically to the individual, because no two submissives are the same. I shape conversations, lessons, training ideas, and guidance around the kind of submissive you desire to be. I also say this early and often, I am not an expert. Not even close. Everything I offer is rooted in my lived experience and the education I’ve gathered along the way. I don’t pretend to know everything, and I never want to.

After we talk about consent, autonomy, bodily agency, and your rights as a human being and a submissive, there’s one thing I almost always say next.

Surround yourself with other submissives. As many as you can.

Please don’t make me your only mentor. That’s not healthy, and it is not fair to you. I can only teach what I know. For example, I am not a full time brat, so I would never claim I can fully educate someone on that path. I can offer perspective, sure, but lived experience matters.

Find submissives you admire. Find ones whose energy calls to you. Find ones who submit differently than you do. Each of us carries our own stories, wounds, joys, mistakes, and wisdom.

I like to think of it like a big, infinite buffet table.

Every submissive brings a dish. You get to sit at the table, talk, listen, learn, and taste. You can fill your plate with the things that nourish you, the flavors that feel right in your body and your heart. And the things that don’t resonate? You can simply smile and say, “Thank you,” and leave them for someone else. No guilt. No shame. No judgment!

Always take guidance with a grain of salt. Not everything will apply to you, and that is more than okay. It is healthy. What matters most is that you are happy, your partner is happy, and the dynamic you’ve negotiated together is consensual, informed, and intentional.

You don’t need to submit the way I do. You don’t need to submit the way your friends do. You don’t need to submit the way anyone else thinks you “should.”

You are not them. Your relationship is not theirs.

You are a unique and beautiful person, and that deserves to be celebrated, not corrected. So go to classes. Read books. Devour podcasts. Attend live demos. Ask questions. Listen more than you speak. And when possible, experience things in consensual, risk aware ways. Be informed, be cautious, and be gentle with yourself, because yes, sometimes shit happens, and sometimes we get hurt. Growth isn’t sterile. Learning isn’t always pretty.

But you are allowed to learn. You are allowed to explore. And you are allowed to become the submissive that feels most true to you.