There have been some changes within our household.  The slave we used to own has had to take a break to deal with several members of her vanilla family that have gotten really sick 3000 miles away. While she held the title of slave, she ended up being more of a sister wife and we've stayed in touch even after her move.  Although not in a D/s sense, we have remained friends. To that, we are back to seeking one who desires to serve, and be of service.  Who craves the reward of praise for a job well done, and is bothered more about her failures then about any punishment she gets for them. To be clear, we are not seeking a girlfriend, or a just a play partner.  This is a life experience for us that goes well beyond play, and regardless of your experience level, our goal is to teach you to serve as we desire, but also to emotionally reward you for that service.

TO MY LOYAL SUPPORTERS, As the year draws to a close, I find MYSELF reflecting on the incredible journey 2024 has been. This year was nothing short of extraordinary, filled with milestones, unforgettable experiences, and growth that surpassed even MY own expectations. From traveling to new places that expanded MY vision to building deeper connections with those who’ve been here since day one, I owe it all to YOU. To MY loyal subscribers: YOU made this possible. Every moment of luxury, every goal crushed, every step forward, it’s a testament to your unwavering support and belief in ME. Together, we’ve created something unstoppable, and for that, I AM endlessly grateful. For those who’ve been watching from the sidelines, wishing they were part of this, know this: you’ve missed out on a year of exclusivity, transformation, and power. MY circle is reserved for those who understand what it means to invest in greatness. 2024 was just the beginning. The next chapter will be bigger, bolder, and untouchable. To MY loyal supporters: thank you for being part of this legacy. To the rest, the door is open, but not for long. Merry Christmas and here’s to an even more powerful 2025! With gratitude and fire,  AFRICAN GODDESS

I prefer to take thing, it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission Plus permission can be hard to come by. Why now just take it and break it into what you want  Just be comfortable with yourself in skin.   Anything can be beautiful with confidence 

I'm told that I should say what I offer as part of this, so here goes: I'm a skilled writer, proofreader, editor, and researcher, and can deliver information in a sensible, easy to absorb, fashion. I can perform basic admin tasks, including maintaining databases, answering emails/messages, and taking minutes. I'm intelligent, a good listener, with a good level of empathy, and am told I give a good massage. I can cook, clean, bake, and am (slowly) learning to make my own clothes. I do my share of emotional labour and have a good memory (for some things, at least). I can provide references. I hope at least some of that catches the eye and makes you (whoever you are) feel that I could be a really useful person for you.

An evening, recalled by the lady, written by me.It was late afternoon and it had been a tough day at the Commission. His kiss when he met me at the station was warm and affectionate; we chatted on the way to the hotel and as we checked in. When we arrived in the room I dumped my stuff on the bed and went out onto the veranda to look out over the lake. A few minutes later I heard him say ‘come here please’. I turned to see him with an impassive look on his face and standing in the middle of the room pointing at the floor just in front of his feet. He took hold of me around my waist and as he kissed me deeply, his hands travelled from my waist down my hips and across my bottom. Then up my back to my neck and then he felt my hair. He murmured ‘give me your tongue’ and I slipped it between his teeth. He nipped it and held it between his upper teeth and tongue. It was uncomfortable but not painful, he had done it often before and I had grown to like it. His hands resumed their journey around my upper body. They were firm, confident and moved without any hesitation. I could not have ed even if I had wanted too and the welcome feeling of melting inside began. He then released my tongue, kissed my lips then he turned me around and bent me over so my elbows were on the bed. He lifted my skirt and folded it over my back. His hands then roved freely over my bottom and between my thighs. He felt my mons, traced the line of my slit and ran his fingertips between down the crease between my buttocks, pausing to press on my anus. He then held me firmly against his thigh and began to spank me- this had recently become a regular beginning to our time together. One spank per cheek, then two, then three, they landed on my upper thighs and the curve of my bottom. He stopped at six and spent a few minutes gently rubbing my bottom, occasionally slipping his hand between my thighs. At ten per cheek it was stinging a lot. By twelve I was having difficulty keeping still. It was the knowledge that if I moved he would start again that kept me in position. The spanking was not unexpected and it had the desired effect. I felt myself starting to melt inside even more as he rubbed my stinging bottom and thighs once again. He stopped and made me stand. Then looked me in the eye, and then said ‘I have a few issues to resolve with you’. My stomach took a lurch, I’d been here before, he had shown no sign of real annoyance with me recently but then he never really did. He took me by the chin, looked into my eyes and said ‘strip and kneel’. He then turned and went to the veranda. It only took a minute to remove all my clothes and jewellery. I knelt, apprehensive about his return, embarrassed it had been a warm day; I had been wearing tights and had not had the time to wash and prepare myself for him. My make up had gone and I knew I did not look my best. He returned and pushed me forward to my knees and elbows. Pulling back my hair he locked my leather collar around my neck. It felt strange after the long break since I last wore it. The wrist cuffs were fitted next before he clipped them behind my back pinioning my wrists. He pulled my collar by its short leash to make me kneel up and then buckled a gag around my neck and pushed the red ball behind my teeth before tightening   it. He turned me so my back was to the mirror and placed a low backed chair in front of me. He could now see both the back and front of me. Sitting on the chair he told me to part my thighs wide and to emphasise the point his foot nudged my knees wide apart. I hoped he wasn’t going to touch me between my thighs as he so loved too, I so regretted not taking a shower immediately we arrived in the room. From his pocket he took some butterfly style nipple clips. I hate them and he knows it, he threaded their chain into the ring at the front of my collar and after pinching my nipples between his thumb and forefinger to make them fully erect he clipped one to each nipple. The discomfort was almost unbearable, I instinctively closed my thighs, and he ed and gently tugged the chain, sending sharp jolts through me. I did as I was told and spread my thighs wide, pushing my mons forward as far as I could. The gag muffling my weak protests. He spoke slowly, jerking the chain on saying each word. ‘Three weeks ago you forgot your make up, two weeks ago your stockings, last week your high shoes. You have arrived in my company wearing tights for the last 4 weeks, hence the immediate spankings. You have not kissed or greeted me properly on meeting for the same length of time. You make up today is poor, your hair isn’t brushed and you have not left your pubic hair as I instructed. In short young lady you are marring your beauty. You are fully aware how beautiful I think you are and you are distracting from it by being sloppy and that disappoints me. I will not accept you detracting from the pleasure I take in having such a desirable woman as my lover. Do you understand?’ I nodded, my eyes starting to water from the discomfort in my nipples and the realisation of how I had disappointed him. There was also the knowledge that I had been here before and if it followed a similar pattern then this was the case against me. By nodding I admitted my guilt. So I was about to punished for being a sloppy and inattentive submissive who had disappointed her Dominant.  He helped me to my feet by lifting me by the collar on my ring; it also had the effect of tugging on my nipples. He reversed his chair and tugged the chain as he removed each nipple clip. It stung as the blood filled each nipple, my knees almost buckled each time, the gag muffling the g. He then connected my wrists cuffs in front of me, and bent me over the back of his chair so my weight rested on my elbows. ‘Part your legs’ he said, I complied and hoped he would decide to have me, not cane me. I was to be disappointed, though recently spanked I accepted I had earned this too. He fetched a cane from his bag as I waited anxiously. Holding the back of my collar he rested the cane against my bottom, drew it back and struck me. ‘One‘ he said. All I did was hear the sound then the harsh sting reached my brain! He was using the flat cane.  A piece of flexible wood two feet long, an inch wide and a quarter of an inch thick. It didn’t leave tram lines or scars; I knew its stinging would last for ages and leave a square red mark on each buttock, but it would not bruise very much. Not that it seemed important at that moment. Though I find the cane painful, the thonged whip he occasionally uses is worse. Its thick strands inflict weal’s and their tips can get into the most intimate parts of my body. I’ve also known him use it on my breasts and belly. Each cane stroke went slightly lower until the last 3 all struck where the tops of my thighs and my bottom met. My legs kicked out from the stinging, by now I had dribbled spittle around the gag, my eyes were streaming and my nose had started to run. He let go the back of my collar and returned the cane to his bag. Returning he pulled me upright by my collar and turned me to face him. I refused to look him in the eye; I must have looked a real mess. He took my chin again forcing me to look into his eyes. I felt so ashamed of my appearance. He had told me I was beautiful so very often and it made me feel so proud when he said it. Now I had let him down by being too complacent. He unclipped the wrist cuffs, reattaching then in front. He said ‘Do you understand what I have told you?’ I nodded. ‘Then get down on your belly on the floor and spread your legs, I haven’t finished with you yet.’ My mind raced, would it be the whip now, on my bottom? I knelt and lay on the floor, my bottom was really stinging and the carpet was rough against my sore nipples, my belly and mons. I spread my thighs wide, dipped my spine and waited. I heard the pop of a tube of lubricant being opened. It wasn’t the whip!! The lube felt cold against my anus as he applied just enough. He undressed, I could feel him looking at my prone body, the line of my sex and the rose of my anus. I was fully exposed because it was how he wanted me to be. He knelt between my thighs and pumped his cock to make the head larger. He spread my bottom cheeks with one hand and pressed his cock against my anus with the other. The tip entered me, it was so uncomfortable. I had forgotten how tight a caning made the cheeks of my bottom clench. He pushed into me, stretching me. I struggled and tried to object; he held me and reminded me of the presence of the whip. Once he was past the muscular ring I relaxed as the discomfort subsided somewhat; I felt the cool of his skin against my hot bottom. He reached and took hold of my hair and collar, pulling them back. At the first slow thrust he said ‘one’. The thrusts were slow and firm, they made my bottom sting though my anus soon adapted to the presence of his cock. He told me to squeeze my buttocks together as he withdrew his cock, and relax as he thrust in. I tried to do so; each time I failed he added two extra thrusts. He was punishing me and reminding me of his dominance by not taking pleasure from the stimulation my anus could give him. It was a reminder that sexual pleasure could not be an excuse for a lack of submission. It was a relief when he reached 100 and stopped counting and thrusting. I was glad he was no longer forcing my nipples against the rough carpet, and his tummy was no longer making my sore bottom sting more. But I immediately missed the closeness and intimacy of the man I so wanted yet had disappointed. He pulled me to my feet by my collar, removed the ball gag and lifted my chin. I must have looked a real mess as I worked my jaw to stop it aching, I certainly felt a mess and I promised him and myself not to let my appearance or behaviour slip again. He kissed me and said he loved me; I’m not sure if it made me feel any better- or if it was supposed to! He led me by the arm into the bathroom and told me to wash his cock and balls. I took a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked horrendous! Mascara running, the marks of the gag around my mouth, spittle around my chin and collar and my nose running! I looked away ashamed as he wet a towel to clean the lube from between my buttocks. He turned me around so my back was to the mirror and rubbed the wet towel firmly between my buttocks, it stung where it touched the red marks.  I heard him say, ‘You have 30 minutes until dinner. Be ready on time.’ I knew that I would make him the proudest man alive when he let me take his arm to dinner. 30 minutes wasn’t long. But I so wanted to see that look of desire in his eyes that I would ensure I was just as he wanted me to be. I knew just how good he would make me feel in return. He went to the veranda to watch the sun set. I set to work, though I did sneak a look at the red marks on my bottom. They made me feel strangely proud because they were his marks and I had submitted to him. He had put them there and there was nothing I could have done about it even if I wanted to. Now I didn’t know what he was going to do with me later, but after being disciplined he always had something special planned for me! 

You come to my apartment with flowers, a bouquet of roses, baby's breath, snapdragons, alstroemeria. I invite you in, and make no apologies for what will happen to you. You are already trembling, skin warm but the sensation like a cool breeze as I circle you, eyeing you up and down.    I give you a glass of water, I ask, "Ready?"   And you answer, "Yes Goddess."   I nod.   I come home.   You are punished. Daily. Thoroughly. A lash for every sin against me or the others. I watch you bleed. I clean your back, smiling at every wince.   Your family doesn't understand, and I rub their noses in it. I punish them, too, for their part in your deceit. They made you monstrous and in need of training from a firm hand. They will never again poison the well. No one will. You are MINE. My influence is the only thing of consequence.    I will lead my horse to drink, and you will swallow every bitter drop.   I want to come home, to let my sludge of a soul slide down your throat, to watch you choke, to watch you squirm.   I want my curse to leave my fingertips, and travel inches instead of miles.   You will suffer and I will seethe and it will be beautiful, because that's all the hope I have left.   You will crawl on your knees, and learn your place on collared lead, you will feel every second of the earth's contact on your broken vessel.   You dare to defy, and I dare to ask you back for recompense.   I spit in your eye, while you pray for more.   Have you forgotten that it was you who made my altar, and it is your blood that I crave - it is you who created this mess.   It was you, it is you, always you.   My throne awaits, and calls for me.  

My Personal D/s Relationship Requirements The question was posed to me (back in 2019) “What do you require in a D/s relationship?”  While at first, I thought it would be a simple reply over a text, one thought led to another and it quickly snowballed.  (Phrasing, I know…)  I quickly realized that there really was no quick, succinct answer and 70 characters would not be enough to relay my requirements.  Some thoughts came quickly (Phrasing!) while others I feel I need to ruminate on. First and foremost, I require honesty.  Don’t lie through omission or do it to save my feelings or whatever.  I’d rather have an honest, adult relationship rather than a childlike fabrication where I don’t know if I can trust what is being said to me.  You may be brand new and that’s as ok as being an experience veteran.  You may be barely legal; (that I will require ID for) I’ll still teach you.  If I can’t trust you, I can’t play with you. Secondly, I require that my “s” have the ability to effectively communicate with me.  Whether it’s with words, sign language, texting, or moaning, they need to be able to make their opinions known to me.  As the Top/Dom in the relationship, it ultimately falls to me whether to acquiesce or deny any requests.  The bottom needs to understand that I’m never going to do anything to intentionally harm them but I also recognize that I often fail to effectively communicate my actual intentions/motives if not asked the correct questions. That can be alarming or scary. I’m not going to punish someone for wanting to understand what I’m doing or thinking; I encourage questions.  If I’m not conveying myself satisfactorily to the point where danger may be legitimate, I do expect (safeword) to be invoked. I also expect to be kept in the loop as far as my bottom’s day to day life goes.  I don’t need a thorough breakdown (0700- woke up, 0703- used bathroom, etc.) but if there’s something bothering them, it will effect what happens between us.  One thing bothering them, one lingering suspicion about something seemingly trivial can and will through off their ability to assess a situation and their reaction to stimuli.  I do understand that, sometimes, a day can push you to a mental breaking point that just requires a thorough flogging to take your mind off it; if that’s what is needed, I will allow it but I will know to check in frequently.  Plus, especially if there’s distance between us, I like to know you’re still alive.  There’s nothing quite as undervalued as the text, “Hey. I had a rough day; I don’t feel like talking now.  I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.” That tells me you’re alive and I can back off on the worry. (Be ready at 6 am for my text/call though.)   The third thing I want out of D/s relationship is a connection.  Not just an interpersonal one, but one on a deep mental level.  For lack of a better phrase, I need to be in someone’s head.  I need to understand how they think on a deep level.  Many take my classic Cannibal question (yes, I got it from “Silence of the Lambs”), “What is your worst memory from childhood?” as overly personal and creepy.  Not my intent.  Unfortunately, to date, that is the best question (leading to follow ups) that I have found that truly lets me get into someone else’s head.  It tells you

 I am a 41 year old male who due to a physical disability caused at birth I am a wheelchair user, I have tried to live a normal life but due to discrimination that is almost impossible, got no friends, no social life and no even had a date in over 20 years. When it comes to ABDL I am quite open to what happens as long as it includes Bondage, I have seen a few professional dominants in the past with little luck but when I did meet they always feminised me so most of my ABDL stuff is female or sissy in nature. Not had much luck however some health issues in the past year have made me wear diapers. I have mixed neurogenic bladder disorder which means one minute I have Incontinence the next retention so have a catheter fitted so absolutely no control of my bladder, I had 3 haemoroids removed and 3 days later was passing rectual bleeding and blood clots so been prescribed laxatives.  

Question: I would be interested to hear about your journeys and how you navigated finding your D/s type. ANSWER: In my experience, it can be an occasionally rewarding, but largely difficult and frustrating journey. But then I guess a lot depends on who you are (I mean, really are as a person and what you expect/seek). At its best is more honest and intimate than anything else I know, but then it can also be hugely intolerant and judgemental too - something of an irony to my mind. There is such a broad spectrum of interests and needs that simple labels - no matter how many there are - are not sufficient. Unless you identify as a victim and ride like flotsam on the tides of kink, it is important to know yourself. If you don't know you, how do you expect anyone else to?? Mine has been a long journey, the most recent insight being that I am an empath, albeit an unusual one. Knowing this now makes so much sense of things in past, both in BDSM and vanilla life. But I know I am still processing it all and have a way to go. I will leave you with two thoughts: Through BDSM, one is made aware of who one truly is. This may not be who they thought they were, who they want to be or even who they think they should be, but it will be them. (and more controversial) Everyone (dominants and submissives) is damaged in some way - not always obviously and often not admitted even to themselves - and this will have bearing on how they contribute to and what they take from BDSM. The links are not simple linear ones, but they are always there. Understanding one's own damage is healthy. Understanding the damage of a potential partner is enlightening. And finally, when you find a place, however brief, you will feel with intensity and know what it is to be alive!

¡Nueva publicación en mi blog! No olviden: ¡Suscribir, compartir, comentar y darle "Like"!¡Provecho! https://amaasht.art.blog/2022/10/10/de-premios-y-castigos/

First meeting of 2023   Laura, a 39 year old female came this afternoon for a punishment session. Laura contacted me on another site about administering a punishment spanking for being disrespectful to her husband, spending too much money and generally being lazy around the house. Her husband, whilst not in the scene, suggested she get spanked as he thought it would be the only way she would 'get herself together' and start taking responsibility of her life and to stop acting like a teenager. He felt that she wouldn't take it seriously if he spanked her and he probably wouldn't do it properly. Laura was a slight woman, about 5'3", and I'd say 120lbs, shoulder length black hair, pale complexion, quite a few tattoos on her arms. She was wearing a red and black tee-shirt, black leggings, and thick soled, heeled shoes. Anyway, Laura was told to report to me at 2pm, she was HALF HOUR late!! Laura was a little sassy when she arrived, and a little cheeky when asked why she was late, "sorry", she said, "didn't think I was in the army", was her response. I immediately told her that lateness isn't tolerated and that I expect her to be here at the time I say. "bend over, now!" I said, and proceeded to take down her leggings. I gave her 6 very hard smacks! "Ow, ow, ow! sorry Sir!" I think she was surprised by how much it stung, having never been spanked before. Her eyes slightly teary. I told her to stand up and pull her leggings back up, I explained that it was her and her husband that asked me to punish her, so that's exactly what she'd get. The three of us agreed that Laura should have a thorough hand spanking, followed by the strap and finally the cane. I led Laura to my living room and immediately pulled her across my knee, I gave her 20 or so hard smacks on her bottom, then took down her leggings to her knees and followed up with a further 20 or so smacks. She was wearing small blue bikini briefs, not much protection. She made a lot of noise and wriggled about quite a bit, but this didn't stop me from continuing. She was definitely shocked by how much it hurt. I have large hands and I spank quite hard. Her pale bottom reddened really quickly, as I expected. I told her to stand up and strip, which she did without hesitation, then it was corner time for 10 minutes, hands on head and standing still. Laura had a reasonably fit looking body, medium sized breasts, pierced nipples, and was smooth all over. Her bottom was nicely pert, not too muscular, but had some 'meat' to it, for want of a better word. Once the 10 minutes were over, it was back over my knee. This time I put her over my left knee, and clamped her legs down with my right leg, and held her arm behind her back. This time she got three rounds of 30 spanks, very hard! Laura tried to wriggle a lot, and was pleading with me to stop through her crying. We didn't set a limit on hand spanking, I rarely do, however we did set a limit of 3x10 with the prison strap, and 3x5 with the traditional rattan cane. After the hand spanking finished, I told her to bend over my quite large leather pouffe, it's the perfect size for someone to be on all-fours, over the pouffe and still able to put hands on the floor on the other side. She waited there for 10 minutes, the crying reduced to sniffles. "Do you deserve this punishment?", I asked, "Yes Sir", "Did you expect it to hurt so much?", "No Sir" "Well that was only my hand, now you're going to get 30 with the strap" I gave her 10 fairly slow swats, not too hard. She cried out a lot, but took them well. Laura counted the next set of 10, "One, thank you Sir", "two, thank you Sir" ... etc. A little harder this time. She could barely speak now because she was crying so much. I re-assured her that she was taking the punishment well and that actions have consequences, so she should think about her behaviour in future. The final 10 came. She didn't count these. I spanked her quite hard and fast this time, her bottom was going from very red, to slightly bruised. She was told to stand against the wall a final time for 10 minutes, she was not rub her bottom. She was very sniffly so I offered her a tissue, I am compassionate lol. The time came for the three sets of five with the cane. I reiterated that the cane would hurt a lot and asked her if she accepted the punishment. "Yes Sir, I totally deserve this punishment" I put her in position ready for her caning, leaning against the wall, legs together, slightly bent over. She was told that she can wriggle about and make noise, but MUSTN'T break position or I'll start again. The first five strokes hurt a lot, she screamed. I could see her hands tense up, and her body straightened, tightening her bottom. Perfect strokes on my part, right across the sit spot. "ok, back into position", I told her. The next five strokes were to be counted, "One, I'm sorry for my behaviour", "Two, I'm sorry for my behaviour", etc. The strokes were reasonably slow, about every 5 seconds, giving her time to get back into position, and to say the line. I then proceeded to rub her bottom, and told that she'd done well, but the last five will hurt a lot. "Ok Sir, I'm ready" These strokes were hard and fast, no break in between strokes. Laura buckled, her body almost touching the wall. Immediately after the last stroke, she fell to the floor, crying and rubbing her bottom, which was now very bruised and sore. I comforted her and rubbed lotion into her bottom. I think the crying was more from the guilt of her behaviour, as much as from the pain of the spanking. I told her she could get dressed and have a drink of water. She was then free to leave. Laura apologised, but I said that she didn't have to apologise to me, but rather her husband. I told her that I hope the spanking was a good lesson to learn and that her husband should contact me again if she needs another punishment. So, a rather enjoyable first session of 2023, her husband has since messaged me to say that the punishment was exactly what was needed, her bottom was sore and bruised for a good number of days afterwards. He said he'll definitely be in touch if he needed me again in the future.

I am tired.  I am wore slap out already.   Working 10- 12 hour days.. Six days a week and four hours the seventh.  It has gotten old very quickly while I wait for bosses to make decisions on who will be my next assistant without consideration from me.   The stress of work, the stress of house, has me completely blown out.  I collapse into exhausted sleep every evening now, while thoughts of work and how I will have the energy to get the most simple of things done at house that I need to get taken care of.   These are my days right now.   So forgive me if I get a little on edge when the word fun is thrown at me like a ball to my dog.  I dont have time for fun. I have a department to run.  I couldnt care less about fun.  I care about making it through the next day with hopefully a little less stress than the last.  I care about making it through my contract so I can get my rearend home where I will be happier.   Fun is good and all, but it is not the focus of my life.  It is not the focus of what I want in a relationship.   Sorry for the rant y'all.  I am just so tired of hearing... what are you doing fun tonight or well thats no fun.  Shaking my head.  I am beginning to detest that word with a passion.

nuance beyond melanie martinez and lana del rey contrasting with caity krane NOTE: this originally was written on reddit as a visual media interpretation. i crafted screenshots and homemade gifs to enhance the written word. this platform doesn't allow that so some of what is mentioned cannot be shown. i already made a post about melanie nostalgia-ing. but i really feel it wasn't just nostalgia i was picking up on an energetic current between the tribe/community because just like when i talked about the powerpuff girls and right after that i was seeing so many of the tribe members that have more public eye and celebrity referencing them and artist that are tribe or sell to the tribe talk about them more and actual artists as in professionally well paid creatives that are tribe vibe talk about it i knew i was onto something there. so melanie ehhh i was nostalgia-ing but i think i was also treelawny- ing that essence of the moment. i don't really talk about lana that often because i feel as a fellow mermaid energy she uses her siren powers for bad entrapping lower level dysfunctional and bad vibes on purpose. i don't know the effect she has on the side of the coin of the guys since i'm not a guy but she just knows the right buttons and insecurities and struggles and challenges of the lifetime that the little/babygirl has to overcome, heal, grow, adapt, evolve out of etc. she knows what the life lessons tribe has and instead of using it to elevate she uses it to try to keep us girlies stuck. hell she is stuck herself but is making money and a living off of it. with someone that emotionally energetically, and jush-y powerful i tend to just cool off and disengage. haha i was thinking aboutt it though as this song from my gazillion hour playlist. these two are some of the most recent ogs for music that resonates with us girlies and those in the lifestyle but it gives not only twisted it gives basic bitch vibes. it's like those who are apart of the cult of sanrio know hello kitty is basically like michael kors. trying to be something more elevated than he is but highly popular aka a consumer favorite. it gives that kinda vibes. this song and video is so great. it's a fellow tribe member at least coded in my eyes as her vibe mood and visuals scream little girl to me and this song only has 2k views and the video only has 8k views. it's a goddamn shame. maybe in human design this artist caity is also a projector like me and that forward thinking that majority will not understand, but is vital for the progression of ourselves as a society/community type vibe. either way i get her i get it. and i dig the bluegrass vibes she brings in. another rarity over the nashville country sound. i don't down lana because she talks about sad stuff.....the song i mention i've been lonely by caity krone is a look into the more tender, emotional, raw, and sad parts of being an adult housing an active outer child little/baby girl on the inside. at times we're human and were made to feel the full range of emotions. but in emotional intelligence, growth, training, strength, endurance we learn feeling vs wallowing is a thing. and letting it consume vs flow is a thing. and acknowledging vs obsessing over it is a thing. i feel this is a simple acknowledgement. the simple image of the artwork already elevates us into more little girl nuance where it's not smacking us on the head with something so blase. hey there fellow mermaid sister by the water with the wavy hair. even the album cover for this entire cd is more nuanced and flavorful. someone added some seven spices to this shit.  KhaosWolfKat 

"Switch"? ~ What it Means Pertaining to Me  I am not "a Domme" or "a sub", and definitely not a slave. I am a free woman with a generally dominant personality, who lives by Gorean principles and philosophies in real life, and also engages in BDSM activities. I tend to be "toppy" toward those on the more submissive end of the continuum, though I do usually at least defer to free men, and will conditionally submit to those I deem worthy of such. Apparently, the "switch" moniker is very confusing to some people, so I will go into detail here about what it does - and doesn't - mean, in my case. We'll start with the "doesn'ts", since those seem to be the most oft misunderstood. "Switch" does NOT mean:   I go back and forth from free to slave. It's a BDSM activity preference - not an indication of status. I am free. Period. Submitting to certain men or enjoying bottoming for some activities does not make me "a sub". It just means I enjoy a variety of activities, and that I am a woman who embraces natural order, so tend to show submissive traits in the presence of strong, dominant, free men, despite my mostly dominant personality. I will do/be/play whatever role you are seeking I'm not a fetish dispenser! Do not treat me like one. my role within any specific D/s dynamic is flexible It isn't. The boss is the boss, and stays the boss. The FC/sub/beta/slave/whatever s-type obeys. I "switch" between being/identifying as dominant or  submissive depending on my mood, the day, the phase of the moon, or any other whims.  I do not.  I am simply who and what I am. I relate to others depending on their place on the spectrum of dominance and submission as compared to mine, and, as appropriate, their status or rank as compared to mine. "Switch DOES mean (for me)  I enjoy both "topping" and "bottoming" in BDSM activities/scenes, regardless of D/s involvement (or lack thereof) at various times and with different people.  I respond in different ways to different people or types of people - Some people trip the dominant trigger, some trip the submission trigger, and some people do neither. That's just the way I'm wired. Telling me what I "should" do, or trying to demand, cajole, whine, bitch, or otherwise manipulate me into relating to you in your desired manner will backfire. Badly!  For a more in-depth look at the topic... The word, "switch", for me, is only a label for convenience. It doesn't encapsulate who or what I AM. I am a strong woman with a dominant personality and submissive tendencies. I believe in the natural order of things (more on that in a future post), and that D/s is not a clear cut, either/or sort of thing. Rather, dominance and submission are character traits on a continuum, which vary from person to person, with every person falling somewhere on the scale, creating somewhat of a hierarchy.  That means that a single person may be submissive or subordinate to some, whilst outranking or being dominant to others, at the same time.   It was recently compared by someone in a discussion to that of a wolf pack. I tend to agree with that allegory.  A pack will have an alpha male and, generally, an alpha female. The alpha female is the boss bitch, and she is dominant over the rest of the pack, but, she is still submissive to the alpha male, with whom the buck stops. She is still very much free to do as she wishes, and no one had best mess with her unless they are ready and willing to attempt to fight her, and potentially her mate, but she yields to him, because it is how they are biologically wired. The same is true, I believe, with humans. Another comparison is that to serving in the Armed Forces. A Drill Instructor is God to the recruits in their platoon, but if an Officer is on deck, that same Sgt. (or whatever) damn well better snap to attention and salute along with those recruits, and the C.O. (Commanding Officer) merits same from all of the aforementioned, going on up the chain of command right up to the Commandant, and then the Commander in Chief himself.  In neither of those comparisons, does an individual bounce between two or more separate "roles". They occupy their given role, and interact with others and the rest of the world accordingly, depending on those others' respective roles. They don't have to transition from one "mindset" to another, because they know their place in the larger scheme of things, and everything just flows naturally from there.  It is simply a fact that there are more than two "ranks" in life, and in nature. I will not separate out my dominant and submissive traits into separate "personas". They are not. I am me. I am a whole, integrated, complete person, with many different facets. I choose to embrace that. Neither will I "dumb down", pretend to be less than, submit, or pretend to submit to anyone, simply by virtue of their gender, status, or because they claim a certain title or position. I will start out being respectful to others, and will defer, to a degree, and maintain a submissive attitude with free men as long as they don't give me reason to do otherwise. From there, they will either earn my respect, and the added deference that may accompany it, or they will earn... something less, and I will do my best to at least remain civil, so long as they can avoid pushing me too far. Do not mistake a respectful demeanor, good manners, polite deference, or knowing my place in the natural order of things for outright submission. There is a distinct difference, and making assumptions is an unwise idea.