They don’t want us to find each other. But we dare, again and again to meet, build community, make ourselves seen, make ourselves heard. We know how sexy defiance can be.

We play with power, it’s a central piece to our desire, to our identity, to our relationships. Consensual exchange is not what they had in mind. So you, here, giving up the power they’ve given you, is dangerous. To the way things are. To the systems in place to ensure we stay obscured. To the way they want you to be. To the way they want me to be.

But our tradition is a shared language. Even the words are fetishized. The word you’ve always looked up. Maybe you know the Merriam-Webster by heart. And now it’s led you here. Sometimes it feels like fate. As if you were made for this. I like to think that it was only a matter of time before we found one another, despite the powers that be.

And isn’t it divine? Being something you’ve always dreamed of being, for me? The reverie of fetish, realized. In service to Goddess. Right where you belong: offering yourself up to me. Serving. Suffering. Sacrificing. Surrendering.

It’s transcendent. When you suffer for me, you access a higher calling. I do, too. We feel it together, in worship. A state of being they want to deny us, but we will revel in. Forever.

What do you have to lose? The life in the shadows they want you to embrace? Instead, serve me in divine bliss. Access the parts of yourself you’ve been told to suppress, those parts you’re supposed to be afraid of. Belong to the Goddess of your dreams. Together, we create a new language, a new state of being, a new reality in power exchange.

Give me everything I want. It’s what you were made for, after all.