"The Grimoire of Urban Flora: Sacred Sexuality, Healing, and Transformation" this has been weeks coming. i finally got to do the audio review of urban flora. not just a music review..but a review in the context of the sacred spirituality power dynamic i do. with a mindset of mermaid energy. i go over briefly the summary of the energetics of the dark goddess sophia vibe, the dark god archangel michael male energy, where i get this from and the set up of why i see alina baraz's urban flora album as a guidebook aka grimoire for women like us..who love men like this. in this nature. too keep in the mermaid theme besides explaining a summary, all of it is in audio format to continue with the water theme. while i didn't record it on a water day or water planetary hour. i am rectifying it by releasing it today mercury day during mercury hour in my time zone for extra energetic effect. you're like a wave, pulling me underneath, there's a universe inside of you, i can make you feel, can i undress you, let them wash away your pain, what's a king without a queen, chasin your pretty thoughts   https://audiomack.com/sophia-starseed/song/the-grimoire-of-urban-flora-sacred-sexuality-healing-and-transformation imagine sick ass water images because on my other social media it's there and it adds to the effect and the formatting of collarme has nerffed the message. oh well.

I said it and say it again, one must love these str8 males. I say that because there's one moment when finally a str8 male surrenders to a better male and offers his most intimate possession, his hole. It takes considerable time to enter such a space (you want him to come for more) but there is magic in that first entry. The man is nervous for several reasons: first time being entered, societal prohinotions, the realization that even if he doesn't do it again he allowed another male to deflowering him. Most times they reach for their penis as if to make sure it is still there. He is bewildered and with good reason, a new reality is dawning and there is no turning back. the most important moment is not the deflowering that is for me to enjoy and savor; tight, warm, and spasming. Pain, and pleasure begin a dance that takes over the whole body. I you know how to use your rod you will be assaulting the prostate and a new level is reached. All this is your reward as a bull, you worked for that but the str8 male is still hanging to whatever small idea of being str8 he possess. The reckoning comes when you let him turn, place on all four and you enter. He cannot see you, hewants to be a witness to his new reality but the only thing he can do is to grab his dick again. However, once you break in he will stret his arms and back, he has being invaded. That is still the str8 male attempting to show power and control. He wants to communicate the fact that he is still the stallion he thought he was. Yet if you know what you are doing and the assault continues on once he realizes his new role he collapses his body and embraces the bed in which his Top masculinity is destroyed. That collapse is key, his upper body flat on the bed, arms stretched, head on the side and yes closed with an open mouth uttering a silent moan. That is the moment you have conquered him, he is yours and you are his man. 

Many people love the fantasy of Dominance. The commanding presence and the control. The title of Master just drips with power and for many, the image it conjures is one of unquestioned authority, luxury and being served hand and foot. Maybe for some it is, I know I definitely have that life most days. But here’s the truth most don’t talk about, being a Master isn’t just about being the king of the house, it’s about being the rock. The standard. The one who leads with clarity, compassion and an unshakable sense of duty. It is the responsibility of a Master to do the best for those in your charge. This is your cautionary tale, because once you accept the role of Master, you don’t just gain power, you take on the weight of someone else’s trust. Their safety. Their submission. And if you can’t honor that, you have no business calling yourself Master at all.

a throw back...then and now...how i talk about the spiritual dominant man and the slave woman referencing brooklyn baby in 2015 vs 2024. my writing and perspective growth   a bit not complete because the two service oriented and protection images i have shared back in 2015 cannot be added here due to the wonky layout of the site.   yes i've been writing about this for quite awhile on different platforms. i was going through my facebook where i first started writing this and trying to i don't know..gain some sort of dialogue, community, connection, recognition, semblance of back and forth over it back then and mostly stopping when i was met with silence and or resistance. nowadays i come to understand that my writings are more for me and while i'd love to find a community or people or to turn this into something more be ok if all that happens is it lands and holds a space on the sentience that is the internet! i wrote about my thoughts about brooklyn baby as the little girl and the daddy romantic power dynamic figure back in 2015.....somehow almost 10 years later i forgot about it.. and with my new lived spiritual, energetic, and cosmic awareness i recently wrote about it in 3-4 posts here. i asked my lovely chat assistant to compare and contrast...how do i approach the same lana del rey song  10 years ago vs now? what my writing style and my awareness used to be back then: "i was initially going to keep this on my fetlife side but after a request i am putting this on here too. dual post. talking about power dynamic stuffs, nothing sexually graphic but this is the okay with everything tag anyway so..ya know that'd be cool too .my vanilla friend on facebook posted a bunch of old 1950s ads which had of course a lot of natural male lead household media since that's how things were back then without options or visbilities of choice or other ways to live.   when i came across this one it made me a mix  of how cute, something i very much miss and one of those loss moments all into one.(first photo)this was the photo that stuck out the most to me. in both my  real life real time offline daddy/little girl relationships this was something that i frequently did and looked forward to doing on dates or as the first one when we eventually moved in together.it was comforting to have a routine to follow. to know what to expect was going to happen. it was safe and quieting for me to know that my man was safely allowing me to serve him in a way that was going to get rewarded, acknowledged, praised, and vauled for.it always goes back to this for me(second photo). added, i just found the full quote of where the second image takes its quote from..and it just fits what all of it was/what i wanted it to be/what i was hoping to get:"“I loved having a dad who was smarter than the New York Times, and I loved how my cheek could feel the hairs on his chest through his T-shirt, and how he always smelled like shaving, even at the end of the day. Being with him made my brain quiet. I didn't have to invent a thing.”― Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close"to find someone who makes me believe that they understand all of me and my crazy mentalness and the challeneges of my antisocial mom and all my brokenness and stays and commits to providing structure and care and rough brawns is just one of the biggest gifts in the world that could be given. and being able to care for them and thank them for the service and direction and guidance they provide is easy. is comforting and nice. with my first daddy parts of this translated into getting him his diet coke in the morning, picking out clothes for him, and getting his english muffin heated and buttered before he leaves for work. usually it invovled a kiss goodbye as well. i did this until he told me he no longer felt able or willing or wanting to be a daddy to me and he wanted us to be equals. after that i did it off and things just pretty much started to crumble after that...but while that was a standard for the 3 years we lived together i never felt obligated to...when i was sick he would do so. if i was late or off i would do what i could.  but i never felt obligated or had to or that it was out of my way to do so.with my last ex we never got to the point of living together. instead when i would go over to his house or i would rent hotels for us i would help him get dressed and i would usually buy him something to drink or some sort of item for breakfast. getting my daddy all set for his day was a big honor and fufilling feeling that i had. it was one of the top 5 things that felt right and complete for me.in return usually as with my first one he would help provide a chunk of the income to help take care of us and while i wanted to work full time i didn't find any full time work while we were togehter except the first few months of us being together. i would get tenderness and emotional care and consideration and gentle leading i never had. what i got in exchange just felt right.and in the further discussion of this and the ability of choice now my friend pointed out in regards to the times back then, 'wouldn't want to be frumpy' and thank goodness we don't have to be dressed up at all times.over the years i've changed and grown into being more femme with my outer apperance and playing with makeup. with my first daddy i didn't have that many clothes....but i did like dressing up for him. and with my last one of the things that just made all of my heart soar along with my little girl's heart and core was for him to take the time to commit to dressing me every day.this actually didn't work out because he started slacking and saying for me to just pick after he committed to it..one of the many signs...of course...but it went back to the safe contained space for mea safe contained space of my worthy man being able to take the time, energy, and effort to tell me how he'd like me to look like for the day.  the addition of no surprises and routine and knowing at all times i am to his pleasing. it was an intimate thing to be taken in and looked at and appreciated and fawned over for being such an addorble femme being. and one that was held and cherished and well cared for and taken like a prized possession. at least the idea that this was happening was. none of it was deameaning or a bother. i always had energy to get dressed up or to do what i can to help out. these are some of the things i miss the most and grieve over losing forever.funny how small little things bring  up things like this.i'm not sure why..but this song brooklyn baby by lana del rey really  fits the mood i'm expressing here. especially the vocal sound of it:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T5xcnjAG8pE" i got a really sweet comment from someone that i'll anonymous share. it was the only comment i got from it, but on facebook back then pretty shocking i would've gotten any at all with a concept that radical back then. "J - I'm speechless. That was an incredibly powerful and beautifully written post! Truly! Thank you for sharing it here. All I can think of to say is that you are a very fine human being...and whomever you spend time with, they are LUCKY and fortunate to have found YOU. You are such a smart, beautiful and gifted soul. It's an honor to be your friend, my dear! ❤

Are you carrying heavy loads you wish would go away or that you could move away from them? Galatians 6:2 says we should carry each others burdens. We should come together to exhort and lift one another up. When two or more are gathered in Christ's name, He is with them. He also promises to give you rest when you are weary and burdened. As Christians we are not to use biased judgement or prejudice against another whether they be Christian or not. Christ is working behind the scenes and they very well could be saved even if their life doesn't look like it from your perspective. We should encourage one another to be loving, kind, blameless, and to love God and one another, enemies included. Seek godly wisdom and understanding. Be moved towards allowing Christ to evolve you from the inside out. Let your adorning be more inwards than it is outwards. The Bible is filled with practical truths that help you to show love, act in love, love others, love God, and even forgive and love an enemy. All scripture is God breathed and useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting, and training in righteousness. Please turn to Jesus today, he loves you enough to not leave you where you are. Life is a journey are you allowing him to walk it with you? 

I’ve decided to stop actively looking for a partner. This isn’t because I’ve lost interest in D/s or because I’ve become cynical. Quite the opposite. Over the years I’ve become clearer about the kind of relationship I want, and I’m no longer willing to compromise that just to avoid being alone. I’m not looking for occasional play, casual encounters or something that’s switched on and off at weekends. I’ve always wanted a genuine relationship where trust, commitment and a 24/7 dynamic are simply part of everyday life. Not a scene, not a fantasy, but a way of living together. Perhaps that’s asking too much in today’s world. If so, I’d rather accept being on my own than settle for something that was never going to make either of us happy. I’m not closing the door completely. Life has a habit of surprising us. But I’m no longer searching, advertising or hoping that the next message will be different. If the right person ever appears, wonderful. If not, I’ll continue enjoying my life, my dog, my holidays, my hobbies and the peace that comes from knowing I stayed true to what I was looking for. Sometimes accepting that something may never happen is easier than endlessly chasing it.

Shutting people out is confusing to me. It was one of the very first coping mechanisms I learned early in life, and it worked well. I used it often. Or, you know, all the time. By the time I learned it wasn't healthy it was too late. In the spirit of self-improvement I put effort into salvaging relationships when I could push past my initial reaction of shutting out, which wasn't often. Much more difficult for me and against every instinct I had. Those weren't always done in a healthy or whole way, either. Ignoring things instead of addressing them, having the other person react in the opposite way of what was expected. I struggled a lot with the what and the how. I still do. Only now, circling back to shutting people out, it's acceptable and encouraged in some instances. When the hell did that happen? How do you determine when it's the right move? After years of trying to undo the shutout it feels wrong. Right, but wrong. Like I've given up. Like I'm falling back on an isolating coping mechanism. Facts are facts and they may stack the deck for motive, but I can't help but feel like I'm the emotionally stunted person using her go-to move. I think about this a lot. Is it right? Or is it just easy? 

Dear maste,daddy,mistress, mommy,Im a french sissy slave 57 on good shape living in Palawan Philippines.Serving  as a sub slave for household duty and sex is my dream.Being dress as a maid for my service ,as an inmate for my punishment as an retardate teen girl for going outI love to be keep on chastity and diaper full time , wear 50s style lingerie, girdles,full cup bra,garter belt, stocking and more.Being keep on chain, shackles,collard for punishment are good for me.Correction and education by flogging, spanking, whipping or more are again normal. Feel free to ask me anything!   Hope you have interest on meCheersSissy Melanie

Makes perfect sense  "Go to a movie... have dinner... look at a Rembrandt... talk about a poem... see a tree... look into a mirror together... do things that lead somewhere... AND THEN kneeling and giving orders has a reason... a purpose.. a deeper more fulfilling feeling of needs and desires..." -unknown  If I want to meet you,  our first meeting will be vanilla with a Dominant twist. It will be about getting acquainted with each other,  getting comfortable in each others presence. Our first meeting and those after will be dictated by Me. If you don't communicate,  don't expect Me to read your peebrain. If you have the audacity to agree to a meet and you fail to follow through,  you can be sure I will tax you if you reach out to Me again.  In the event you failed a previous meet, you will pay for the previous failure.

Some fellow in late Dec 2021 posted a Journal entry: "I see a still-surprising number of profiles which, in summary, go something like this:  'Fuck you in advance for wasting my time, because you are all fakes and losers, and also, I'm lonely and looking for someone, so please respond, but respond pretty fucking carefully.' " Rings true, but my own personal reaction to too many profiles (and more than a few journal entries on this site) can perhaps be summed up very briefly as: "What you say about others might well be true; but how you say it, speaks volumes -- about you." Gosh, that even rhymes, and with equal number of syllables.  On the positive side, it's a sort of Public Service Announcement, that "how it's said", alerting others (including even those of us looking just for friendship at this time) what style  to expect (sooner or later) if we make contact.

 I am guessing that a lot of men here, and I don’t blame them, really, just want someone to look at their cock and tell them they did a good job by having one. But honestly, is that what D/s is? I thought that a Dom was a man that had figured out how to seduce a woman and liked seduction. I thought the whole point was for them to use their power in ways to see what they could do. Where are these men? I feel like I have more power now than ever and am so disappointed at the lack of creativity and artistry. What is up you guys? Within minutes of making a connection a man says ‘you will be my whore’ which is a bit much, but ok, my dude, let’s see what you’ve got? Make me your whore! Just you telling me I will be your whore really isn’t so effective. Plus you don’t mean it, you might mean you want someone you can jack off to/with, which is cool, but that’s not your whore, that’s just a whore. And being a whore, which is also fine, is not what I am looking to experience. I am surely worth more than that.  When I think about being a man’s whore, well I get very excited. I think about the possibilities for so many interesting and intriguing things, I want to give this person pleasure, I want to focus on them, learn how to serve them. I want us to build a connection that allows for mutuality. I want to want to be really bad for him.   But it’s a relationship and in my mind an important one and perhaps I am wrong but when I offer myself up sexually to someone it’s kind of sacred to me. I take the thing seriously, I am good at devotion.  There have been men that believed they very much wanted me to be their whore, but with the exception of a very few,  they weren’t really getting me, and though they seemed very much committed to ‘the idea of idea’ of the dynamic, they  weren’t able to be realistic- like they lacked maturity or experience. I totally thought I would be able to find someone to teach me something. And I am mean, I am not that evolved. I am sure I have a lot to learn. Are my expectations out of bounds? Am I wrong about what this D/s thing has come to be about? Any sane person out there want to share a prespective on this for me?   No need to attack me, I am seirously just speaking from my own experience.

Dinning Out with slave I expect My slave was excited. At least I was hoping it would generate expectations in its little brain. it had not been fed solid food in the last ten days. it was being treated to My lose weight regime. Yes, it had lost a little, but, far from the goal I had determined for it. Outside its cage I had enjoyed leaving pizza fresh from the oven in order that it might enjoy its denial. Actually, I doubt it was ‘enjoying’ smelling the pizza while slowly starving. What it enjoys is not an issue of My particular concern. Needless to say, I enjoyed its discomfort. In its journal it was recording dreams of gorging itself on delicious pizza. So, I offered a torture by way of tantalus for My pleasure. In any case I watched its face closely as I announced it would be accompanying Me out to dinner. it had just finished its required ten miles on the tread mill and was sweating profusely. I let it catch its breath and cool down to the point of an onset of chill. I took a bight of a large corn-beef sandwich while its eyes devoured the sight of My pleasure. I slowly chewed the sandwich while My slave involuntarily chewed nothing but saliva. When it seemed to be at the point of crying with the frustration of dental and hunger, I swallowed to clear My mouth and, negligently dropping the half eaten sandwich on the floor, I began to speak. “Slave, tonight it will accompany Me to dinner out. I will allow it to wear ladies panties, the tight little boy shorts and a T-shirt. it will play chauffeur to the restaurant. it will sit on its hands and not speak without a nod of approval from Me. Before I go out to eat, I will beat it in order that it might keep its servile position in life firmly in its mind. I grant it the opportunity ask a question now about tonight’s adventure. Remember, any answer including punishment for any impertinence I perceive must elicit profound gratitude from it. Ask now, slave.” Poor thing, it could not resist the crying need it felt for, at a minimum, the prospect of receiving food. “Master will it be fed tonight?” To which I responded with a series of face slaps. At each it did as it had been trained and forced its face up to face slapping position with its eyes firmly fixed on mine. No matter how hard I struck its impertinent cheeks it thanked Me profusely for a number of things. The ‘things’ included that it was receiving attention from a Better, it had the opportunity to serve, that it was learning etc.  Later that day, still wondering if it would be fed, the slave although in advanced years of age was dressed much like a little boy included Buster Brown shoes was kneeling by the front door waiting to drive Me to My repast.  As I approached the door ready to leave My residence, I thought I heard My slave properties stomach growl its protest at the lack of something to digest. Darn if I thought I heard the same little growl as I passed it through the door it held open to the interior of My car. I gave it the destination from My comfortable seat. I suspect the slave was pleased to be driving rather than locked in the trunk of the car as it usually was.   It did a competent job of driving, holding the door for me at the entrance of the restaurant and then parking the car. I enjoyed the sight of it running back to me to open the door of the eating establishment. When I announced My name we were conducted to a both. My slave used a handkerchief it carried for just such occasions to wipe down the seat I was about to occupy. As I sat, it waited at the ready should I require anything else in the moment. When I was comfortable, I took a moment to survey the table. The linen tablecloth was spotless and was not overly starched. The flatware was sterling, the plates were all porcelain and the glass all crystal. It pleased Me to see such an elegant setting before me. All the while My slave property maintained a standing posture ramrod straight with eyes focused on My face waiting for instructions. I casually looked at My adoring chattel and nodded slightly. At this indication from Me it took its seat on its hands. The reader may skip the following digression. Sitting on one’s hands sounds simple enough. However, hand sitting is far from comfortable. The reader might like to try a little experiment and spend some time sitting on hands for a while. The longe one sits in that fashion the less comfort afforded. Further, there is the question of palms up or down. Up or down question in My realm depends on the surface the ass is to rest on. A hard surface with palms up leaves discomfort to mount slowly to the ass while the back of the hands almost immediately suffer from the weight of the sitter and the hard surface the knuckles and back of hand are pressed into. A soft cushion, such as the current eatery provided would receive the back of the hand with grace and ease. However, if the hands are palm down, the soft surface causes the hands to bend backward and over time gain certain agony to the sitter. Guess which way My slave property had been trained to orient its palms? Water was in each of the crystal water glasses provided. There was a carafe of H2O on the table as well. I sipped My water while I perused the menu. My slave property kept its eyes on My face should I require anything, even as its thirst remained unquenched. I discarded the wine list. My drinking days are long past. However, I was aware My slave was a drinker (the reader should note the past tense.) The waitress arrived to collect the order. She enquired about drink preference. Noting My decline and nothing by way of speech from My companion, went on to the food question. My order was rather simple, a crab cocktail, followed by a caesar salad, main course of prime rib.  “And for the gentleman?” enquired the wait person after turning to face it.  I watched as My slave’s face reddened ever so slightly. I looked forward to reading its journal entry regarding this whole dinner, especially, its reaction to the “for the gentleman” inquiry. I sadistically savored its quandary of imperative sustenance need and secure knowledge it was to have only what I allowed. “You may bring one dry piece of toasted white bread, please.” With a very well, Sir, she turned to place the order with the cook. “it may have a sip of water, slave.” Of course My slave property could not resist taking more than a sip. It even allowed some liquid to dribble down its chin as it downed half a glass. “Remind Me, slave, to beat it severally for taking more than a sip and for removing hands from under its ass without permission.”

 WildPrecious