It Was Always About Divinity

There was a time when the whip rested in my hand, an extension of my presence, my energy. Cloaked in shadow, I walked a path where power and vulnerability intertwined, creating a space for those brave enough to meet themselves.

It was a dance of trust, surrender, and revelation. In the stillness of that space, I witnessed people shed the layers they had carried for lifetimes. The whip was not an instrument of force but a symbol, a tool to carve out a space for truth to rise.

Beneath the surface of the dynamic, something sacred always stirred. Every session was a journey, not of submission to me, but of submission to oneself. To desires long buried. To fears long denied. To parts of the soul waiting patiently to be seen.

The dungeon was my initiation into the mysteries of power as a sacred current that flows through us all. There, in the shadows, I learned to hold space for transformation, for the alchemy that happens when shame is met with acceptance and the hidden is brought into the light.

I no longer hold dungeon space but its lessons linger. They fondly whisper to me of the beauty found in shadow, the freedom born from surrender, and the ways in which power, when held with reverence, can become a force of deep healing.

This is one of my favourite photos from that time, and I can still feel of the whip in my hand, the weight of the cloak on my shoulders. They were tools, yes, but also symbols of something more profound, an exploration of what it means to truly see someone and to invite them to see themselves.

The stories stay with me. The moments of raw vulnerability, of breath catching in the stillness, of a shift so deep it felt like the earth beneath us had moved. They remind me that power isn’t about control. It’s about connection. It’s about stepping into the unknown, into the parts of ourselves we’ve been taught to hide, and finding the courage to stay.

Because in the end, this journey was never really about domination. It was always about divinity.