Under The Whip

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.

Why do I still feel guilty?

I’ve been asking myself this question far more often than I expected, why, as a Gorean kajira, do I still feel guilty for wanting to serve? Not just serving other Masters, but even serving my own Masters. It has gotten easier with time, especially with reassurance from my Masters, but there are still moments where that old guilt rises up like a shadow.

When our dynamic first began, serving my Master Calvin while my Master Damon wasn’t present filled me with such guilt I could barely breathe. I needed constant reassurance, constant reminders that I wasn’t doing anything wrong, that they both wanted this dynamic, that I was not betraying one by serving the other. We’re four years in now, and yet sometimes that guilt still lingers. Even when my Master Calvin travels, I occasionally feel guilty serving my Master Damon.

It makes no sense. And yet, it sits inside me like a quiet ache.

Because the truth is, I am deeply, fiercely Gorean minded. Gorean in nature, in heart, and in spirit. It is in my blood to love men, to serve them, to find fulfillment in offering myself with openness and devotion. When I see a man I deem worthy of my service, it stirs something instinctive in me.

So why should I feel guilty for acting according to my nature?

This is something I battle with more often than I like to admit. There are moments when I catch myself flirting with a Gorean Master, and instantly my whole body tenses, my butt puckers like I’m about to be disciplined. And the thing is, my Masters have every right to discipline me simply because it pleases them, even for amusement. The thought alone makes my breath catch.

What reassures me most is when my Masters tell me that when I serve others, they are being served too. That my service reflects on them. That my obedience honors them. Sometimes I confess, almost eagerly, “I can’t wait for such and such friend to visit so I can serve him paga,” and my Masters only laugh and call me their good little whore.

And Gods, hearing that hits something deep in my belly something that only burns hotter.

Yet still, why do I feel guilty? I think part of it comes from today’s society, the insistence that I’m supposed to be an independent woman who needs no man, serves no man, and belongs only to herself. But that has never been who I am. That path would never fulfill me, never bring me peace, never match the truth of my spirit.

I am content, deeply content, being a kajira in a Gorean dynamic, serving in a Leather household. I love serving men their paga. I love kneeling in devotion. I even ache at the thought that one day, if permitted, I might be granted free-use privileges as a kajira. These desires don’t frighten me. They ground me. They make me feel whole.

My loyalty and my love will always belong to my Masters first. My Gorean soul, is happiest and most alive when I am in service, especially to those welcomed into my Masters’ hospitality.

So maybe the guilt is just an echo of a world I don’t belong to.
A world I was never meant to fit into. Because the truth is simple,

I am a slave girl.

I serve.

I bloom in obedience.

And every submissive breath I take belongs to the men I call Master.

La Kajira!

"Discovering a loophole within your dynamic. Whether it pertains to your rules, contract, tasks, or commands, yet consciously choosing not to exploit it. Is a profound expression of submission." Calvin Koch

There is something quietly powerful in those words.
They speak to a kind of submission that goes far beyond obedience, the kind that is born not from fear, but from integrity. From love. From a desire to serve in truth.

In the Leather lifestyle, and especially in Gorean philosophies, honor is not a word used lightly. It is the breath behind every act of service, every kneel, every whispered “yes, Master.” As a slave girl, I am not merely bound by the words written into a contract or the rules laid before me. I am bound by the spirit of my surrender, by the moral compass that keeps me aligned with my Masters’ will even when Their eyes are not upon me.

And it is in those quiet moments, those subtle tests of character, that the real depth of my submission reveals itself.

When I notice a loophole, an unintentional gap in instruction, a place where I could bend the letter of a command without technically breaking it, that is where the truest reflection of who I am is shown. Do I exploit it? Do I slip through it unseen? Or do I honor my Masters and myself by choosing not to?

For me, the answer is simple. I serve with honesty, transparency, and loyalty, not because I must, but because it is who I am. Because my submission is not about cleverness or convenience, it is about devotion.

When I discover a loophole, I consciously choose to ignore it. To carry out my service as intended, and later bring it to my Masters’ attention. I do this not to seek praise, but because I belong to them fully, and I would never wish for my obedience to be tainted by deception or self interest.

There is a kind of freedom in that honesty. It is the freedom of having nothing to hide, of knowing that my integrity reflects not just upon me, but upon the House I serve. It strengthens our trust, deepens our bond, and honors the sacred exchange that defines our dynamic.

True submission for me, at least as I live it, is not about doing only what I am told, it is about striving to embody the values that my Masters hold dear. To be accountable. To be truthful. To be devoted in spirit, not just in ritual.

Because when I kneel before Them, I kneel not only in surrender, but in choice. The choice to serve with honor. The choice to be transparent in all things. The choice to uphold the sanctity of what we have built together.

And so I live, as Their slave, by a simple truth, My submission does not end at the limits of a command. It begins where my integrity is tested. In choosing not to exploit what I could, I become something more than obedient, I become trustworthy.

And that, to me, is one of the highest forms of service I can give to my Masters.