Under The Whip

Last year, I let myself grow close to two people who, in the end, didn’t feel the same way about me. I was open and honest about what I was searching for, genuine people who wanted to build something real with me. I craved loyalty, closeness, and a ride or die kind of friendship. But when things became inconvenient for them, they proved they weren’t reliable. They left. They ghosted.

For a little while, that stung. It was disheartening to realize that not everyone who says they want connection actually means it. But the thing about me is, I don’t give up. I don’t let a few disappointments close my heart.

And because I kept going, I met new people. This time, it was other submissives. All different types, littles, brats, service submissives, fellow kajiri. Each with their own personalities, struggles, and strengths. And slowly but surely, we started becoming something special.

We’ve laughed together in our highest moments, and we’ve leaned on each other in our lowest. Somewhere along the way, they stopped being just “people I met” and started becoming my chosen family.

I call them my Cupcake Crew, sweet, colorful, a little messy sometimes, but so beautifully unique. And I am endlessly grateful that our paths have crossed. They’ve given me a kind of friendship I was searching for all along, real, loyal, supportive, and true.

I love them deeply. They inspire me to keep reaching for the stars, to push forward when life feels heavy, and to never give up on myself. And I’ve made a promise in my heart to always be there for them, ride or die, just as they have been for me.

Between my Masters, who guide and ground me, and my Cupcake Crew, who lift and love me, I’ve found something so precious, a home. A place in this world where I am accepted, understood, and embraced exactly as I am.

And for that, I am forever grateful.

This is my perspective and opinion, shaped by many years of experience in this lifestyle.

Over the many years I’ve spent in the kink lifestyle, one thing has stood out to me again and again, far too many people who call themselves “Dominant” seem to believe that their title alone equals respect. They throw the word around as if simply saying, “I am Dominant,” makes others fall at their feet. But here’s the truth I’ve come to understand.

Dominance is not respect.

Dominance is a role, a presence, an energy. Respect, however, is something entirely different. Respect cannot be claimed, demanded, or assumed, it has to be earned.

When someone says they are Dominant, all I hear is a label. A word. A self given title. It tells me nothing about their character, their integrity, or their ability to hold space for another person. Respect comes from seeing someone consistently live by their values, treat others with decency, and embody a strength that doesn’t need to shout to be felt.

Too often, I’ve seen people confuse the two. They act as if holding the title of Dominant automatically means others owe them deference. But to me, that is an empty illusion. My submission, my trust, and yes, my respect, are deeply personal things. They are not given out freely to anyone who claims to be “in charge.” They must be earned by someone who truly is Dominant in the way I perceive it, grounded, capable, and respectful themselves.

This is why not every person who claims the title of Dominant gets my respect as a Dominant. Respecting a title and respecting a person are two completely different things. I can recognize someone’s chosen role without feeling they deserve my submission or admiration.

For me, respect flows from my submissive side only when I feel the presence of someone who genuinely embodies Dominance, not just in name, but in action, in how they treat people, and in how they carry themselves. Those are the people I honor as Dominants. Everyone else is simply wearing a label.

And that distinction is important, because it reminds me of my own agency. Respect is not something I owe anyone, it is something I choose to give when I feel it has been earned.

When you settle in for the afternoon to enjoy:

KPOP Demon Hunters!!!

For the third time in 2 weeks, but THIS time it is with your Daddy and your Mr Big, and you have juice boxes, and snackies. 

GREAT DAY!!!!

10/10 I would recommend this movie to anyone!

The Beauty of Surrender

TLDR: Surrender, for me as a Gorean slave in a Leather Household, is the gentle act of laying down all pretense and control, offering every part of myself with trust and devotion. It is where my vulnerability becomes my strength, my obedience becomes my freedom, and my purpose is found in simply being as I am, open, humble, and wholly Theirs.

Being a Gorean slave and living within a Leather household is not just a title or a lifestyle for me, it is the very foundation of who I am. At the heart of this path is one word that defines everything.

surrender.

For many, surrender might seem like weakness, or even something to fear. But for me, surrender is where my strength and beauty live. It is where I find my freedom.

To surrender means allowing myself to be vulnerable, to open my heart completely and honestly to the Masters I choose to serve. There is no mask, no performance, no part of me hidden away. That vulnerability is not easy, it comes with the risk of being hurt, of disappointment, of heartbreak. But in surrender, I also find the deepest kind of trust: not only trust in them, but trust in myself. I trust that I have chosen wisely, that I have given myself into the hands of men who will not truly harm me, but instead guide me, protect me, and shape me into the best version of myself.

When I surrender, I let go of the weight I carry in the outside world, the pressure to control everything, the need to hide my true self, the fear of being “too much” or “not enough.” I give all of that up, and in return I am granted something extraordinary, permission to be exactly who I am. No judgment. No apology. Just me.

This surrender does not make me small, it makes me whole. It gives me structure, direction, and purpose. It builds my self worth, because I know the value I hold in the service I give. My esteem grows not from control, but from the beauty of obedience, devotion, and loyalty. I am not lost in this surrender, I am found.

To live this way is to live with intention. Every choice I make to kneel, to obey, to serve, is also a choice to live a life of meaning. My surrender is not taken, it is given. Willingly. Freely. Joyfully. And in that, I find freedom. The freedom to let go. The freedom to belong. The freedom to live as the woman, the slave, the soul I was always meant to be.

Surrender, to me, is not about chains or rules or commands. It is about love, trust, and devotion. It is about giving myself completely, knowing the risks, but choosing to believe that the reward is worth it. And it always is. Because in surrender, I am not diminished. I am alive.

I met a friend last year who felt like looking in a mirror. We shared eerily similar childhood traumas, we are both slaves in 24/7 TPE relationships, both littles with similar interests, morals, and ethics.

She and her Daddy helped my Masters and me tremendously in our dynamic. She grounded me when I needed it most and helped me refocus on my purpose as a slave and my submission. I love her for that. We spent hours together on Discord when she was available, and she was quickly becoming not just a close friend but a chosen sister.

Then, out of nowhere, she posted a message saying that, for religious reasons, she and her Master were leaving Discord, Fetlife, and the BDSM community entirely. I fully respect that decision. You have to do what makes you happy. But here’s the thing, just because you’re leaving kink doesn’t mean you have to leave your friends.

Friendship isn’t dependent on a lifestyle.

Unfortunately, she didn’t just step away from the community, she stepped away from me and everyone she’d grown close to in our server. I reached out to her many times afterward, checking in, sending love, letting her know I was still here. I was met with silence.

Ghosted.

And she knew how I felt about ghosting. She knew it is one of my deepest friendship wounds. If you need space, I’ll always respect that, just say so. But disappearing without a word tells me I’m not valued, I’m not respected, and I never really mattered to you. And that hurts in a way I can’t fully put into words.

Time passed. I began to move forward, still missing her but learning to accept the loss. Then recently, she returned. New Fetlife account. She reached out, saying how much she missed me, how she hoped my Masters and I were doing well. Part of me wanted to scream with joy, to hug her, to just pick up where we left off. But I couldn’t. I had to tell her not to contact me again.

It wasn’t easy.

My heart wanted to throw my boundaries away. But I refuse to go back to the version of me who let people repeatedly hurt her without consequence. This wasn’t the first time she’d done this, it was the second.

And I won't witness a third!

Now I’ve heard she’s telling others she was “shunned” and that if I were a true friend, I would have welcomed her back with open arms. But here’s the truth. True friends don’t ghost the people who care about them. True friends don’t vanish without a word, especially when they know how deeply that wounds someone.

True friends communicate, even if it is just to say, “I need some time.”
You are allowed to be upset that you weren’t welcomed back. But I’m allowed to protect my peace. I only keep space in my life for people who show up, keep their word, and genuinely care. I wish her, her Daddy, and her family nothing but happiness and fulfillment. Truly. But that happiness will have to exist without me in it.

Because my peace matters, and I intend to protect it.

The other day, I came across a piece of writing from about two years ago. My hope is that the people involved have since grown, learned, and changed. But there was one quote that stopped me in my tracks, a statement made at a roundtable discussion.

"We know you’re not an abusive Dominant, because your submissive looks happy!"

I can’t even begin to explain how deeply wrong and disgusting that statement is. Abuse is not a joke. It is not something to brush off or use as a casual punchline in conversation. And it certainly isn’t something you can judge based solely on someone’s smile.

The majority of people who are abused become masters of disguise, covering up bruises with clothing, covering up emotional wounds with a perfect smile. They act as if their relationship is harmonious and safe, because that performance can be the difference between another night of danger or a fragile sense of peace. They hide it out of fear, fear that speaking out will lead to more harm. They hide it out of shame, shame that they “let” it happen, even though abuse is never the victim’s fault.

Now, layer that reality over a TPE (Total Power Exchange) dynamic. In my experience, many submissives allow their Dominants to control their finances. On the surface, that can be a consensual, negotiated power exchange. But if abuse creeps in, it becomes a trap. Without access to their own money, with no support network, and sometimes isolated from friends or family, a submissive can find themselves with no way out.

And yes, I understand, entering into a dynamic is a choice.

But abuse is not a “part of the deal.” Abuse is abuse. It is unacceptable in the Leather community, in BDSM, in kink, and in any relationship anywhere. What shocks me is how many people in our community still believe that if they can’t physically see abuse, if there are no bruises or screaming matches, then it isn’t happening. That belief is dangerous. Those are not the people who should be leading, teaching, or holding power as Dominants.

If you can’t recognize the many forms abuse can take, you have no business holding authority over another human being. At the very least, you should be committed to learning, through education, through trauma informed training, through self reflection, what abuse truly is, how it manifests, and how to spot it. Because not all abuse comes in black and blue. Some of it looks like a smile. Some of it sounds like a calm voice. Some of it wears the mask of “everything’s fine.”

And if you can’t see past the mask, you’re not seeing the truth.

As a Gorean Leather slave girl, I live a life rooted in service, devotion, and the constant pursuit of honoring my Masters. But I am also human, beautifully flawed and perfectly imperfect, and I carry my own unique set of battles.

On most days, my life is filled with joy, contentment, and even moments of overwhelming happiness. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, managing my routines, and embracing the simple pleasures of the day. These days are bright and abundant, and they far outnumber the dreary ones. The laughter, the satisfaction of completing my tasks, and the warm pride I feel in my service all keep my spirit light.

But then there are the other days. The days where my CPTSD, DID, and anxiety decide to flare. Sometimes they sneak up on me, sometimes they crash in like a storm. And while I am strong, I also know that my depression, like an uninvited guest, will come and go whenever it pleases. My eating disorder likes to tag along for the ride, turning my mind into a merry go round of chaos.

These are not storms I face alone. My Masters walk beside me, even when my steps slow to a crawl. What I find truly beautiful is that in these moments, I am met not with disappointment, but with grace. I am granted safety when my mind feels unsafe. Mercy when I falter. And, above all, love, understanding, and acceptance.

When my depression grips me so tightly that even rolling out of bed feels impossible, my Masters reach for me. They ask, “What do you need? How can we help you?” On those days, I lean into their guidance, their strength, and their control over my day. It is their structure that keeps me from unraveling completely.

They celebrate the small victories, finishing a meal, taking a shower, brushing my hair, things that might seem simple to others, but on a bad day, feel like mountains. Their praise in those moments lifts me up and makes me feel accomplished, not broken. They never treat me as a failure or a burden.

And slowly, with their patience and my own resilience, I begin to climb out of the black hole. Sometimes I find myself in the sunlight again by the next morning. Sometimes it takes weeks or months. But I always come back. And I always come back stronger.

This life, this dynamic, is not just about protocol and obedience, it is about trust, love, and the deep knowing that I am safe even in my storms. And for me, that is the most precious form of service I can give in return, to keep rising, again and again.

Consent! The Sacred Foundation of Trust
From My Perspective as a Gorean Leather Slave.

Consent isn’t just a word we throw around in BDSM spaces, it is the very heartbeat of any healthy relationship, whether it is kinky, romantic, platonic, or somewhere in between. I’ve learned over the years that consent is not a “one and done” checkbox. It is an ongoing conversation, a living agreement, and a promise to honor each other’s autonomy.

As a slave, I have given pieces of my trust, my body, and my mind into someone else’s hands. That makes consent sacred to me, because without it, there is no safety, no respect, and no real submission.

Types of Consent

Over time, I’ve come to understand that “yes” and “no” can be far more nuanced than they seem at first. Here are some of the different types of consent I actively practice and expect to receive.

Explicit Consent – Clear, verbal (or written) permission given before anything happens. No assumptions, no guessing.

Informed Consent – Saying “yes” only when I understand exactly what I’m agreeing to. This includes risks, potential outcomes, and limits.

Ongoing Consent – Recognizing that what I agree to today, I can change my mind about tomorrow, or even mid scene.

Enthusiastic Consent - A “hell yes” instead of a hesitant “I guess so.” Real consent carries eagerness, not obligation.

Implied Consent – In certain ongoing dynamics, some acts are pre agreed upon (such as a specific protocol), but still rest on a foundation of previous, explicit agreements.

Conditional Consent – Consent that depends on specific circumstances or boundaries (e.g., “Yes to spanking, but only on the thighs, not my back”).

Revocable Consent – All consent can be withdrawn at any time, no matter the reason. My “no” will always be valid, even if it comes after a “yes.”

Why Consent Is So Important

Without consent, power exchange isn’t power exchange, it is abuse. Period!

Consent protects my dignity, my physical safety, and my emotional well being. It builds the trust that allows me to truly surrender in a scene or a dynamic. When I know my boundaries will be respected, I can let go more deeply. When my Masters know I will communicate openly, they can push edges without fear of harming me.

Consent isn’t just about “avoiding harm”, it is also about creating joy. Negotiated play, agreed upon rules, and mutual respect makes space for intimacy, exploration, and pleasure that are impossible without trust.

What Consent Violations Look Like

Many people think of consent violations only in extreme or obvious terms, like forcing sex after someone says no. But in both “vanilla” life and BDSM dynamics, they can be far more subtle, and just as damaging.

In Vanilla Life

Touching someone without asking (even a hug).
Sharing personal photos without permission.
Reading someone’s private messages without their knowledge.
Pressuring someone into a date or social event they’ve declined.
Continuing sexual activity after someone asks to stop.
Assuming consent for intimacy just because you’re in a relationship.
Changing agreed upon plans without the other person’s input.
Making sexual jokes about someone without their agreement.
Ignoring body language that signals discomfort.
Using someone’s belongings without asking.

In BDSM or Power Exchange Dynamics

Changing a scene mid play to include acts not negotiated beforehand.
Ignoring a safeword, slow word, or other pre agreed stop signals.
Removing aftercare without discussion or warning.
Touching or playing with a submissive’s body without checking in (outside of agreed dynamic terms).
Publicly humiliating someone without pre negotiation.
Applying more intensity or pain than was consented to.
Outing someone’s kink involvement without permission.
Using a collar or symbol of ownership without it being agreed upon.
Introducing new toys, tools, or play without discussion.
Enforcing rules or protocols that were never agreed upon.
The list goes on, and on but for the sake of this writing, I will keep it short.

Consent is not a technicality, it is the foundation. As a slave, it is the reason I can submit. It is what keeps me safe, what lets me open up fully, and what allows me to trust my Mastres with not just my body, but my mind and heart.

When we honor consent in all its forms, vanilla and kinky, we create spaces where vulnerability is celebrated, not exploited. And that, to me, is the truest form of power exchange.

When you are vetting or negotiating a contract, whether written or verbal, there is no room for “gotcha” moments. It is not funny, not clever, and certainly not a harmless joke to slip in changes at the last minute to see if the other person catches them.

If you make any changes to a contract right before signing, and you do not clearly communicate those changes, sit down to discuss them, and get explicit agreement from the other person, you have taken away their ability to give informed consent. That is not just careless, it is predatory.

This is not “testing” someone’s attention to detail. This is a massive consent violation and a glaring red flag that you are not a safe person to be around, play with, or enter into any form of power exchange with. The very fact that you treat consent as something to be toyed with shows a complete lack of respect for the foundation our community is built on.

I say this as a submissive who trusts my Dominants and play partners with deep vulnerability:, consent is sacred. It is the bedrock of everything we do. If you think consent is a joke, you have no business in this community. You deserve the mark of shame and, frankly, excommunication from any space that values safety and integrity.

And before anyone tries to play the “but CNC exists!” card, yes, I know it does. I understand CNC, and I respect the people who engage in it with care and clarity. But here’s the thing about CNC: you negotiate it first. You agree on parameters. You set boundaries. You define the edges of the scene. Then, and only then, do you consent to the consensual non consent you’ve discussed.

You don’t get to change the actual rules at the last second “for fun” or “as a test.” That’s not CNC. That’s a betrayal. If you are truly committed to SSC, RACK, PRICK dynamics, then you understand that contracts, negotiations, and agreements are not playgrounds for your ego. They are acts of trust. And trust, once broken, is very, very hard to rebuild, if at all.

Consent is not a joke. It is the air we breathe in this lifestyle. Treat it as anything less, and you should not be here.

Once you’ve finished the vetting process, had the long and sometimes awkward talks about wants, needs, desires, rules, and protocols, and finally signed that contract, or given your word in a verbal agreement, something important shifts. A level of expectation is now set.

You’ve both agreed to the parameters of your dynamic. Safewords are in place, if you choose to use them. Hard limits are clearly stated and respected. The boundaries are drawn, and the control has been defined, what will be given, what will be kept, and what is off limits.

So now what?

Now, the Dominant must lead and guide. The submissive must surrender and obey, to the very best of their ability. Because here’s the thing, this isn’t Burger King. You don’t get to have it your way every single time, just because you feel uncomfortable giving up control. And as a Dominant, you don’t get to throw the coloring book away when you don’t like staying inside the agreed upon lines.

D/s and M/s relationships are two way streets. The Dominant or Master gets their needs met as laid out in the contract or agreement. The submissive or slave gets their needs met and their boundaries respected. Both sides are important. Both sides are necessary.

We don’t get to throw out the agreements just because a moment feels uncomfortable. If we were comfortable all the time, we’d never grow, neither as individuals nor in our roles. Discomfort can be where we find our greatest lessons, our deepest connections, and our truest submission or leadership.

When you’ve agreed to the dynamic, you’ve agreed to show up for it. Fully. Not only in the sweet moments, but in the challenging ones too. That’s where the beauty of the exchange really lives.

So, I’ll keep showing up, kneeling when I’m told (even when I am upset), speaking when I’m asked, and offering every soft, stubborn, trembling piece of myself that I promised to give. I’ll follow the rules we set, lean into the lessons you lead me through, and trust you to hold the lines we drew together. Because that’s what I agreed to, and honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way. After all, I’m not here to rewrite the script, I’m here to play my part, beautifully, obediently, and just for you.