80 comments

  • Why is Bill Gates doing this ?

    • White man’s guilt.

    • Because he hates the Jews and hates Israel. And wants to depopulate Africa from the Africans in order to prevent “global warming”. Not one dime, will go to starving black children. It will go to privileged wealthy black africans who live on the backs off their fellow africans (in the worst ways imaginable) and slaughtering them in wars and massacres and deliberate starvations. Dictators, politicians who live on bribes, billionaire mega church fake prophets, warlords, criminals ETC. to promolgate wars to depopulate Africa and cut back their carbon footprints.

      He is also friends with Moammar Ghaddafi who is worth 150 Billion dollars when he died. And friends with The communist dictator of Angola and other authoritarian leaders most of whom were elected BTW.

    • To atone for cheating on his wife

  • I realize this is unexpected but this caught my eye today, there is a ton of people who believe that machine learning is the way forward and will transform the way we live but to be honest I am yet to see any differences in my daily life that haven’t been on my smartphone.

    Why would people bring some machine into their house too let alone through some strange user on the internet.

    What do you guys think? Would you have faith in a machine from someone you don’t know?
    I know corporations like Zuck, Amazon, and Standard Unions are developing a platform for this, although I can’t say for certain if I would feel safe with these companies in my house.

  • Your writing has a way of resonating with me on a deep level. It’s clear that you put a lot of thought and effort into each piece, and it certainly doesn’t go unnoticed.

  • Цифровое поколение или
    Современная молодёжь — это поколение смартфонов, которое выросло в эпоху технологий. Они общаются через экраны, и для них цифровой мир — это часть повседневной жизни.

    Их основные ценности это:

    Поиск себя
    Молодые люди активно строят свой путь. Это поколение ориентировано на смысл. Важны не столько деньги, сколько реализация.

    Работа и карьера
    Работа для молодёжи — это не только стабильность, но и миссия. Многие выбирают фриланс, стартапы или работу на себя. Офис уступает гибкому графику.

    Семья и отношения
    Представления о семье меняются. Молодёжь сегодня разрушает стереотипы о ролях. Главное — честность.

    А хорошие они или плохие. Умные или глупые – покажет лишь время.

  • Remember the 1983 Film
    “Twilight Zone: The Movie”
    The character of
    Anti-Semitic , Racist Bigot
    Bill Connor
    Part of the Wikipedia entry for this film says
    “Bill Connor is an outspoken bigot who is bitter after being passed over for a promotion at work in favor of his Jewish co-worker Goldman. Drinking in a bar after work with his friends Larry and Ray, Bill utters prejudiced remarks and slurs towards Jews, Blacks, and East Asians, blaming them for America’s problems. A Black man sitting nearby asks him to stop. After ranting some more and declaring himself better than the minorities, Bill angrily storms out of the bar and finds himself in Nazi-occupied France during World War II. A pair of SS officers patrolling the streets spot and interrogate him, believing him to be a Jewish man. Bill cannot answer satisfactorily since he does not speak German. A chase around the city ensues, in which Bill is shot in his left arm by one of the German officers. Bill attempts to hide in an apartment, but the French woman quickly betrays him by shouting a warning to the German soldiers. Bill climbs out on a ledge of the building, where he finds himself trapped while the two German officers take pot shots at him standing along the narrow ledge.

    He falls from the ledge and lands on soft ground, now in rural Alabama during the 1950s, where a group of Ku Klux Klan members see him as a Black man whom they are about to lynch. Bill, scared and confused, vehemently tries to tell them that he is white, but to no avail. After kicking one KKK member against the burning cross and setting him on fire, Bill breaks free and tries to escape (while still hampered by his bullet wound). He dives into a nearby pond and resurfaces in a jungle of Vietnam during the Vietnam War, being fired at by American soldiers who see him as a member of the Viet Cong. One of the soldiers throws a grenade at Bill. Instead of killing him, the grenade launches him into occupied France again. There he is captured by the SS officers and put into an enclosed railroad freight car, along with Jewish prisoners bound for a concentration camp. Bill sees the bar with his friends standing outside, looking for him. He screams for help, but they cannot see or hear him or the train as it pulls away.”

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  • The New York Post nypost.com has an article
    “Why I’m ending my donations to US Jewish groups and seeking new leadership to protect US Jews”
    By 
    Rachel Sapoznik
    Published June 4, 2025

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  • israelnationalnews.com has an article
    “What lurks beneath”
    by
    Joan Swirsky
    June 5, 2025
    About Anti-Semitism
    Rabbi Meir Kahane warned us about this

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  • allisraelnews.com has an article
    “What does ancient Bible prophecy reveal about global rise in Jew-hatred – and what’s coming next? – THE ROSENBERG REPORT”
    by
    Tal Heinrich
    Published: June 7, 2025

  • A person typed online this
    May 2025 about the
    Cold Blooded Murder of the
    Two Israeli Staff Members in Washington D.C. in
    May 2025 by Elias Rodriguez

    “This is why “Free Palestine”, “From the River to Sea” is not free speech. It’s insightful anti-Jew anti-Israel rhetoric that leads to terrorist murdering Jews not in Israel but here on the streets of the USA.

    When is the world going to wake up! Celebrities, politician, influencers, news hubs- who spread anti-Zionist antisemitic anti-Israel libelous lies are all complicit in last nights heinous attack.

    It’s time for this hate to stop. ”

    Another person typed online in
    March 2025
    “Jew Haters are no longer hiding behind anti Zionist rhetoric anymore. They are unapologetically and opening expressing hatred towards Jews, just because they are Jewish.

    We have a lot of work to do as a community.”

    Yet Another person typed online in January 2025 about
    Anti-Semitic Healthcare workers
    In America
    “More haters learning the hard way that free speech is not free of consequences.

    I’m starting to think that getting antisemitic healthcare professionals fired isn’t enough… if they’ve ever made any mistake on a Jewish patient, they need to be charged with endangerment.”

  • A person typed online today
    “That’s rich! It’s perfectly okay and “protected speech” for Australian jihadis to shriek “F the Jews” and “gas the Jews” but Oz revokes Hillel Fuld ‘s visa for DEFENDING the Jews⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️ ”

    About how Australia has canceled the visa of
    Hillel Fuld

  • A person typed online today
    “The surge in antisemitism in the United States is directly attributable to Democrat leadership.

    When they say “no person is illegal ” and “free Palestine” that leads directly to the murder in DC of the two Israeli staffers the fire bombing of Governor Shapiro’s home and they fires Molotov cocktails in Boulder. It leads to 300 college campuses with students here on foreign visas shouting for genocide against the Jews. This is Democrat policy in action.

    It all started with Obama letting in a million Muslims from predominantly anti-Semitic countries and then his VP then President, Biden not only letting millions of illegal aliens including many bad ones, but he also affirmed the protester shouting for Jewish genocide, and his successor for the Democratic nominee, Harris , said she empathize with those protesters on 300 college campuses calling for genocide against the Jews. Other Western countries have their own Obamas and Biden’s letting in millions of these Islamic terrorists wannabes for now feeling emboldened to exhibit their anti-semitism throughout the West. Democrats are doing their best to fight deportation of these monsters and to defend harvard, which is one of the centers of anti-Semitism in this country.

    So what is Trump doing about it? First of all forcibly calling out against it. Notice how under Biden Harris there were 300 colleges and universities that had open protests and riots against Jews calling for genocide against the Jews and it’s dropped down to just a couple now under Trump in the first few months. There’s still a lot of virtue signaling among a couple of the most elite campuses and Trump’s responses to try and cut hundreds of millions of dollars or more in funding from those anti-semitic centers and they’re starting to take action. They’ve made it a point to start deporting the anti-semitic students here on student visas.
    This is a far cry from the encouragement of all the anti-Semitism under Biden and Harris.

    Yes there is some anti-Semitism on the right but it’s negligible compared to the anti-Semitism on the left.”

  • On Instagram
    taliaraab posted

     “From the bottom of my heart, F*ck you. F*ck you to anyone who wants us gone. Israel and the Jewish people are not going anywhere.”
    February 20, 2025
    A video is shown above this comment by Talia Raab
    Well said Talia

  • The New York Post nypost.com has an article
    “Eric Adams signs executive order adopting Holocaust remembrance group’s definition of antisemitism”
    By Carl Campanile
    Published June 8, 2025

  • A person typed online today
    “Greta Thunberg records video saying she’s been kidnapped by Israel- then sails directly into a war zone to ensure she’ll be intercepted. 🤦🏻‍♂️ Even Jussie didn’t have the nerve to announce his hate crime BEFORE it happened.”

    Another person typed
    “Environmental activist Greta Thunberg abandoned the environment and became an anti-Israel activist on October 7.
    Since becoming addicted to exposure and cameras, she has begun to reach points where she will receive more headlines.
    Her small boat does not really have enough food for 2 million Gazans, and all she brought with her is not even one percent of what Israel brings into Gaza every day.

    The anti-Semite from Sweden never thought of taking humanitarian aid to the millions of starving children in Yemen, not to the children of Sudan who are starving, not to the children of Syria who are left homeless, nor to medical equipment for Iraq and Libya when ISIS slaughtered tens of thousands of Muslims there.
    The lady is only interested in “bringing aid” to those who murdered and slaughtered Jews.
    She shows empathy for the few people in the world who dared to kidnap an 8-month-old baby and murder him with their unclean hands.

    Why, in the name of her “morality,” did she not think of bringing equipment to the children of the surrounding settlements whose houses were burned to the ground? Instead of identifying with those who were victims of the brutal attack on October 7, she identifies with the attackers who came to murder and kidnap Israelis.
    Ms. Greta, Israel is already taking care of everything the Palestinians need, so maybe it would have been better if you had brought humanitarian aid to the Israeli hostages who are still being held. Inhumane conditions in Gaza?? At least that’s how they would believe you are both humanitarian and neutral.

    I wonder how an environmental activist identifies with those who pollute the earth the most, and to this day burn their garbage, including burning plastic, rubber, oils, electrical appliances, pesticides and everything else, including the hobby of burning tires on the Israeli border for fun.

    In conclusion, my lady “environmental and peace activist” – you chose to identify with the Nazi murderers instead of their victims, supported the biggest environmental polluters, exposed your stupidity and anti-Semitism to the whole world and came out mute.

    Now that you are deported back to Sweden, try to fight there for your people who suffer from the pro-Palestinian immigrants, go protect the women of Sweden who are raped every fifteen minutes by Muslims, try to fight the crime and poverty they brought to you.. Do something really useful. I’m willing to pay for the photographer to accompany you.”

    No one would ever pay to
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  • Цифровое поколение или
    Современная молодёжь — это дети цифровой эры, которое выросло в эпоху технологий. Они общаются через экраны, и для них виртуальное пространство — это часть повседневной жизни.

    Их основные ценности это:

    Поиск себя
    Молодые люди активно экспериментируют с идентичностью. Это поколение не ограничено стандартами. Важны не столько деньги, сколько удовлетворение.

    Социальная активность
    Современная молодёжь всё чаще вовлекается в социальные проекты. Для них важно быть полезным.

    Ценности новой эпохи
    Молодёжь сегодня делает выбор в пользу равенства. Их ценности — это не абстракция, а фильтр решений. Они стремятся к социальной ответственности.

    А хорошие они или плохие. Умные или глупые – покажет лишь время.

  • A person typed online today:

    “We are told to pursue tikkun olam, to heal the world.” [italics, mine]

    Yes, but those two words are, always, taken out-of-context, which strips them of their true intent and legitimacy. The source is לתקן עולם במלכות שדי (to fix the world in the Kingdom of G-d) — from the prayer עלינו לשבח. Without the context, the author might as well be discussing “how to fix the world’s leaky faucets”… a noble endeavor, but one better told by Tim “The Toolman” Taylor. ”

    Any Opinions ?

  • Может ли ИИ повлиять на жизнь современного Айтишника. И если может то как. Давай проанализируем.

    ИИ облегчит рутинные задачи айтишника, позволяя сосредоточиться на творчестве.

    ИИ создаст адаптивные курсы.

    Работа с ИИ снизит нагрузку.

    ИИ позволит айтишникам сосредоточиться на стратегии.

    Для айтишника ИИ станет помощником в написании документации.

    ИИ поможет выявлять уязвимости.

    ИИ сделает айтишника более востребованным.

    А будет так или нет. – покажет лишь время.

  • Hen Mazzig
    @HenMazzig posted on X
    “Calling Greta a “hostage” shows just how far you’ve gone in dehumanizing Jews.

    You hijack the Bring Them Home campaign, created by families of actual hostages held by Hamas, and twist it for people Israel is deporting, peacefully, on the next flight to Europe. That’s not resistance. That’s appropriation.

    Imagine if Hamas simply sent our hostages home. Do you think their families would still be protesting after 600+ days? You don’t imagine it, because you don’t see those families. You don’t see us.

    Jewish grief doesn’t move them. Jewish hope doesn’t register. Because to the people calling Greta a hostage, Jews aren’t people. We’re a symbol you use when it’s useful, and ignore when we’re bleeding.”
    7:55 AM · June 9, 2025

    Also about Greta Thunberg being a Total Fraud

    Hen Mazzig
    @HenMazzig posted on X
    “They’ve ignored real hostages for 20 months- now they’re calling Greta a hostage for being stopped at a border she illegally crossed.

    Imagine the audacity:
    Call rapist killers “freedom fighters.”
    Call Hamas propaganda “activism.”
    Call an IDF border stop “hostage-taking.”

    They’re not hostages.
    They’re European privileged influencers who staged a stunt, broke international law, and got gently escorted home with snacks.

    Real hostages are still underground in Gaza. And these clowns haven’t posted a single word about them. Spare us another pathetic PR stunt.”
    9:08 PM · June 8, 2025

  • Has anyone seen this
    https://youtu.be/7FnsUxWzVY8?si=BaZto1DhYQSTiKyr
    Notice how Joe Swanson reacts

    • In Real Life Many Gentiles
      Many Non-Jews would react the same way the Fictional character of Joe Swanson did in this scene
      They would also Angrily say
      In a Hateful manner
      “Shut Up! I’m Not Jewish”

  • jns.org has an article
    “A revolution that targets Jews on American streets”
    by
    Jason Shvili
    June 10, 2025

    As usual Everyone hates the
    Jews ,
    Everyone hates the Jews
    Everyone hates the Jews
    Everyone hates the Jews

    The Whole World is Out to
    Crucify the Jews and Israel
    That’s Truly Sick and Evil
    Why can’t the
    Hatemongers and Bigots
    Get a Fucking Life

  • Цифровое поколение или
    Современная молодёжь — это цифровое поколение, которое выросло в эпоху технологий. Они общаются через экраны, и для них социальные сети — это часть повседневной жизни.

    Их основные ценности это:

    Поиск себя
    Молодые люди активно определяются с целями. Это поколение не боится менять карьеру. Важны не столько деньги, сколько ценности.

    Социальная активность
    Современная молодёжь всё чаще защищает экологию. Для них важно влияние на общество.

    Глобальное мышление
    Мир стал доступным, и молодёжь мыслит соответственно. Они смотрят контент на разных языках. Их мышление — гибридное.

    А хорошие они или плохие. Умные или глупые – покажет лишь время.

  • Цифровое поколение или
    Современная молодёжь — это поколение смартфонов, которое выросло в эпоху технологий. Они моментально осваивают новые гаджеты, и для них цифровой мир — это часть повседневной жизни.

    Их основные ценности это:

    Поиск себя
    Молодые люди активно определяются с целями. Это поколение готово к переменам. Важны не столько деньги, сколько ценности.

    Влияние культуры и трендов
    Музыка, мода, кино и мемы формируют общение молодёжи. Они вдохновляются медиа. Всё быстро меняется, и молодёжь перехватывает волну.

    Ценности новой эпохи
    Молодёжь сегодня делает выбор в пользу экологии. Их ценности — это не абстракция, а ориентир. Они стремятся к справедливости.

    А хорошие они или плохие. Умные или глупые – покажет лишь время.

  • Цифровое поколение или
    Современная молодёжь — это цифровое поколение, которое выросло в эпоху технологий. Они общаются через экраны, и для них виртуальное пространство — это часть повседневной жизни.

    Их основные ценности это:

    Поиск себя
    Молодые люди активно экспериментируют с идентичностью. Это поколение ориентировано на смысл. Важны не столько деньги, сколько реализация.

    Работа и карьера
    Работа для молодёжи — это не только деньги, но и свобода. Многие выбирают фриланс, стартапы или работу на себя. Офис уступает домашнему столу.

    Семья и отношения
    Представления о семье меняются. Молодёжь сегодня разрушает стереотипы о ролях. Главное — осознанность.

    А хорошие они или плохие. Умные или глупые – покажет лишь время.

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  • Цифровое поколение или
    Современная молодёжь — это дети цифровой эры, которое выросло в эпоху технологий. Они общаются через экраны, и для них социальные сети — это часть повседневной жизни.

    Их основные ценности это:

    Поиск себя
    Молодые люди активно определяются с целями. Это поколение часто пробует новое. Важны не столько деньги, сколько осознанность.

    Работа и карьера
    Работа для молодёжи — это не только карьерная лестница, но и свобода. Многие выбирают фриланс, стартапы или работу на себя. Офис уступает удалёнке.

    Глобальное мышление
    Мир стал глобальным, и молодёжь мыслит соответственно. Они работают удалённо. Их мышление — мультикультурное.

    А хорошие они или плохие. Умные или глупые – покажет лишь время.

  • Цифровое поколение или
    Современная молодёжь — это поколение смартфонов, которое выросло в эпоху технологий. Они общаются через экраны, и для них цифровой мир — это часть повседневной жизни.

    Их основные ценности это:

    Поиск себя
    Молодые люди активно самореализуются. Это поколение часто пробует новое. Важны не столько деньги, сколько реализация.

    Социальная активность
    Современная молодёжь всё чаще интересуется общественными изменениями. Для них важно быть полезным.

    Ментальное здоровье
    В новую эпоху молодёжь всё чаще задумывается о стрессе. Они открыто говорят о терапии, эмоциях и выгорании. Это поколение учится заботиться о себе.

    А хорошие они или плохие. Умные или глупые – покажет лишь время.

  • Цифровое поколение или
    Современная молодёжь — это цифровое поколение, которое выросло в эпоху технологий. Они моментально осваивают новые гаджеты, и для них цифровой мир — это часть повседневной жизни.

    Их основные ценности это:

    Поиск себя
    Молодые люди активно строят свой путь. Это поколение ориентировано на смысл. Важны не столько деньги, сколько реализация.

    Работа и карьера
    Работа для молодёжи — это не только обязанности, но и свобода. Многие выбирают фриланс, стартапы или работу на себя. Офис уступает домашнему столу.

    Семья и отношения
    Представления о семье меняются. Молодёжь сегодня строит отношения на доверии. Главное — осознанность.

    А хорошие они или плохие. Умные или глупые – покажет лишь время.

  • Цифровое поколение или
    Современная молодёжь — это поколение смартфонов, которое выросло в эпоху технологий. Они постоянно в поиске новых приложений, и для них виртуальное пространство — это часть повседневной жизни.

    Их основные ценности это:

    Поиск себя
    Молодые люди активно ищут своё место в жизни. Это поколение часто пробует новое. Важны не столько деньги, сколько осознанность.

    Социальная активность
    Современная молодёжь всё чаще защищает экологию. Для них важно влияние на общество.

    Ментальное здоровье
    В новую эпоху молодёжь всё чаще задумывается о ментальном благополучии. Они открыто говорят о терапии, эмоциях и выгорании. Это поколение учится отдыхать вовремя.

    А хорошие они или плохие. Умные или глупые – покажет лишь время.

  • Цифровое поколение или
    Современная молодёжь — это поколение смартфонов, которое выросло в эпоху технологий. Они постоянно в поиске новых приложений, и для них социальные сети — это часть повседневной жизни.

    Их основные ценности это:

    Поиск себя
    Молодые люди активно ищут своё место в жизни. Это поколение готово к переменам. Важны не столько деньги, сколько осознанность.

    Влияние культуры и трендов
    Музыка, мода, кино и мемы формируют идентичность молодёжи. Они следят за трендами. Всё быстро меняется, и молодёжь создаёт новые смыслы.

    Ментальное здоровье
    В новую эпоху молодёжь всё чаще задумывается о стрессе. Они открыто говорят о терапии, эмоциях и выгорании. Это поколение учится спрашивать о помощи.

    А хорошие они или плохие. Умные или глупые – покажет лишь время.

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  • Цифровое поколение или
    Современная молодёжь — это дети цифровой эры, которое выросло в эпоху технологий. Они легко адаптируются к новому, и для них социальные сети — это часть повседневной жизни.

    Их основные ценности это:

    Поиск себя
    Молодые люди активно самореализуются. Это поколение ориентировано на смысл. Важны не столько деньги, сколько ценности.

    Влияние культуры и трендов
    Музыка, мода, кино и мемы формируют общение молодёжи. Они выражают себя через стиль. Всё быстро меняется, и молодёжь живет в тренде.

    Ментальное здоровье
    В новую эпоху молодёжь всё чаще задумывается о эмоциональном фоне. Они открыто говорят о терапии, эмоциях и выгорании. Это поколение учится не стыдиться уязвимости.

    А хорошие они или плохие. Умные или глупые – покажет лишь время.

  • Цифровое поколение или
    Современная молодёжь — это дети цифровой эры, которое выросло в эпоху технологий. Они легко адаптируются к новому, и для них социальные сети — это часть повседневной жизни.

    Их основные ценности это:

    Поиск себя
    Молодые люди активно ищут своё место в жизни. Это поколение не ограничено стандартами. Важны не столько деньги, сколько ценности.

    Работа и карьера
    Работа для молодёжи — это не только деньги, но и миссия. Многие выбирают фриланс, стартапы или работу на себя. Офис уступает домашнему столу.

    Ментальное здоровье
    В новую эпоху молодёжь всё чаще задумывается о внутреннем балансе. Они открыто говорят о терапии, эмоциях и выгорании. Это поколение учится спрашивать о помощи.

    А хорошие они или плохие. Умные или глупые – покажет лишь время.

  • In the surreal realms of the deepest night, there exists a space of intoxicating abandon, where the only language we speak is the one etched into our bare skin. I am Yelena, a writer, a woman of age that does not like to be constrained by societal parameters. As a sensual storyteller, I unfold the clandestine chapters brushed with shades of passion and daring, stories that evoke a stirring in the soul, stories of sizzling nights and days spent in exploration of the divine art of carnal knowledge.

    Humming low, the laptop splays open, the glow of the screen highlighting my fingers against the keyboard, a slow ballet that purrs to life the rich narratives. There is a truth to this world, in this moment, a sincere connection, a shared intimacy transcending across the boundaries of pixelated screens. I escape into this realm, where the heated prose of hot sex-sites become my canvas, where boundaries blur and melt into an expanse of untamed imagination.

    There is a unique confidence that drips from every pore when you are a sensual storyteller. It starts in the whispers, soft as silk, threaded into vivid stories of passionate abandon. It’s in the slow build of carnal scenarios that tease the senses and play with the heartbeats. The slow seduction draws me further into the magic of my craft, each letter enticing the readers closer toward the precipice of entrancing pleasure that only my tales can carve out.

    So, what does confidence mean to me, a 49-year-old woman? It’s the power to orchestrate sensual narratives without hesitation, without question. It’s the authority of presenting the intimate realism without blushing, without any trace of shame or embarrassment. This confidence wasn’t always a part of me but, indeed, it was the slow build from my experiences, my reflections, and my resilience that made me who I am today.

    From my moments of reflection, you might assume I am merely a practitioner of the carnal arts. Ah, but there is so much more. As a Russian female sensual storyteller, I am a weaver of worlds lacing intimate tales with love, lust, longing, and most importantly, liberation. I see myself as a beacon of self-discovery for many who dare to whisper their deepest desires into the abyss of anonymity. I am the voice that dares to express. So you see, even in the soft glow of my laptop humming low, even amidst the heated prose of hot sex-sites, I am a woman of power, a woman of age, an enigma cloaked in sensual confidence.

    In the surreal realms of the deepest night, my stories breathe life between the lines and the glimmers of shared intimacy. I, Yelena, am not merely a storyteller. I am a sensual enigma dancing across the blurred lines of imagination, igniting the darkest corners into a splendid luminary of self-discovery. This is my reality. This is my identity. This is my revolution.

  • Journal Entry: March 15, 2022

    I am used to shifting shapes on stage, playing a myriad of characters that make up the tapestry of human existence. But it’s when the performance is off that I truly explore the dimensions of persona, navigating the worlds that exist within the parameters of my favorite sex sites. Here, I am liberated from the boundaries society has shackled upon us, a chameleon in a kaleidoscopic universe. My fantasy life collides with my reality, and I am a performer not tied down by the stringent rules of this world. It becomes a realm of exploration, allowing me to manifest myself as an artist in the most intimate ways possible.

    The allure of this unconventional stage lies in its sense of freedom. Through my screen, I shape-shift into different roles, each more exhilarating than the last. The raw, passionate warrior in one, a sensitive, compassionate lover in another. Each so separate, yet intimately interconnected in this labyrinth of desire. The veil between the audience and performer is thin here, a glass pane that fogs with the heat of our interactive performance. Traditional purview crumbles, giving way to an unadulterated sense of community with like-minded souls who seek the same sanctuary of self-expression and release.

    But it’s the moments of genuine emotion that stir me the most. When the warrior sheathes his sword and strips bare his soul, the lover deviates from his affections to reveal a raw, vulnerable side. These are the scenes that stay with me, engaging my emotions on and off the stage. I exist in the haze of this digital heat, my imagination and fantasies taking flight, unrestrained by the physical. They challenge me, provoke me to embrace the entirety of my sensuality, to push my creative boundaries. Each role is a confession, a revelation, of who I am and what I desire. So, I propose a toast, to this exquisite fusion of fantasy and freedom, to the extraordinary stage that is my bedroom, my sanctuary, my world. May these performances never end, and may my heart always beat to the rhythm of this intoxicating, relentless dance.

  • Every evening, bathed in warm, snaking spotlights, I become a captive in the air, weaving through the cable lines and embracing the silken fabric of my dance partner. Living life in the heights has an intoxicating taste of its own. You see, at 48, I’ve perfected the art of aerial teasing. Like a good bottle of Brazilian Malbec, I’ve been aged to perfection; I tango with the silks, pirouetting and swaying, a slow dance that’s equal parts sensuous and exhilarating рџ“№

    One performance differs from the rest – a fiery, rich memory of a time when teasing fused with intimacy, transcending the barriers of traditional dance. It was my collaboration with her, Patricia, an intriguing Italian aerialist. Our dance was an intricate ballet in midair, pulsating with raw, sensual energy. Each gaze, every subtle touch was charged with a teasing promise which seemed to whisper, “explore now.” Indeed, you could have sliced the tension in the air with a knife, and that night we gave new definition to performance art.

    That sensuous dance took on a life of its own as we discovered new layers of passion and intimacy. It was a slow-burning fuse, igniting the skies in a tango of seduction, and transported all who watched into a world laced with the raw passion. Engulfed in a cascade of lights, our bodies entwined in an intimate dance that defied gravity, swirling and twirling in the embrace of the silk, undulating like waves to the rhythm of our hearts рџ’« The audience sat spellbound, captivated by the tantalizing, almost illicit intimacy we shared on stage. Yet, for all the indiscreet whispers and the flash of scandal in their eyes, I saw respect – a recognition that what Patricia and I had managed to capture was a beautiful and intense dance that was, indeed, nothing short of art бЅ 9

    Aerial dance is more than a profession for me – it’s a lifestyle, one filled with daring leaps of faith, rapturous teasing, and scintillating intimacy. Dancing up in the air, I discover parts of me I never knew existed. The rush of adrenaline, the fluttering beat of my pulse – it’s all an intoxicating cocktail of fear, thrill, and excitement. My dance will always wear a sultry mask of seduction, shrouded in mystery and enigma, waiting to reveal itself to those who dare to explore now.

  • A gust of cold Canadian wind breathes across my skin as I step barefoot onto the bitter frost-kissed earth. It’s an ungodly hour of the morning, but with my beloved silks slung over one shoulder, I make my way to the ancient cedar that has long served as my stage. My heart, cocooned in fifty-two years of life, beats rhythmically, whispering a melody that thrums in time with the anticipation coursing through my veins.

    The core of aerial dancing, for me, is a blend of pleasure and confidence carved out of the raw edges of my reality. It’s a space where I’ve found myself, lost myself, and reconstructed myself numerous times. I’ve tangled myself in silk and self-doubt, but with every fall, every bruise, I’ve discovered reserves of resilience within me. I’ve traced the constellations with my toes, soared between the woody branches, spun around while the world stood still, and there’s something untamed and unapologetically wild about that pleasure. It’s a pleasure less about the physical, although the adrenaline rush of being suspended mid-air is like no other, but more about a mental release. It’s intimate, personal, a flirtation with freedom, an inexplicable connection between me and the air that enfolds me. I’ve laughed in the face of gravity time and time again, and each time, found confidence anew, like an old friend meeting me in unexpected places.

    Aerial dancing may be quite popular today, a magnet for thrill-seekers and spiritual junkies drawn to its unique blend of physical exertion and emotional liberation. But when I began my journey three decades ago, it hardly garnered the same attention or acclaim. I’ve seen it evolve from an obscure fascination to a mainstream sensation. And while it pleases me to see so many youngsters gravitate towards it, it’s impossible not to hanker after those golden days when it felt like a personal secret between me and the universe. Each day, as I climb the silks to reach my cedar-strewn stage, the wooden cathedrals of Canada echoing the whispers of the wind, I am reminded of the years gone by and the spirit of aerial dancing that first drew me in.

    For me, at the age of fifty-two, aerial dancing is more than just a form of creative expression. It is my defiance against the constraints society has tried to cage me in, my celebration of my non-binary identity, and my expression of my delicious freedom. Every death-defying twirl, every heart-stopping drop, is a reminder of who I am and who I have been. The journey has been equally harrowing as it has been exhilarating, but when I glide through the air and the world fades to a blur, it’s like I’ve captured eternity, if only for a few breathless moments. So, to everyone seeking pleasure and confidence, I urge you: find your own dance, your own silks. Unspool them. Unleash them. And in the process, you just might discover, like I did, a little piece of yourself you never knew existed.

  • Bonjour, my darlings, it’s Colette here. рџ–¤ Yes. Your favorite risk-taking, rule-breaking, utterly unconventional French fetish fashion designer.

    Sometimes, life has an ironic way of teaching us about ourselves. Mine came wrapped in latex and a whip. You see, a few years ago, I found myself in a fragmented relationship devoid of control and confidence that left me questioning my own power. There I was, modeling the very fetish wear that was trending right now, yet I couldn’t seem to apply the same courage and bravado to my personal life.

    But one night, backstage at a high-stakes fashion show, everything changed. A last-minute wardrobe malfunction sent everyone into a tizzy. However, instead of succumbing to panic, I effortlessly took control of the situation. I commanded like a symphony conductor, guiding stylists, models, and assistants with resolute confidence. That night, I found my power, my courage, not in a relationship but within myself. рџ’ѓ

    Drawing from this newfound energy, I designed a collection that embodied dominance and control. I incorporated leather, lace, zippers, & studs into my designs, each whispering a silent story of empowerment. The courage and control I once lacked were now woven into my creations. I found myself embracing my voice, breaking away from the norm, and daring to be different.

    Now, every time I see my designs on a runway, on a photo shoot, or in a film рџЋҐ, I see the control and confidence they give to their wearers. I see the power they infuse, the narrative they create. These moments, they make me realize…yes! I am Colette. I am a French fetish fashion designer. I am a symbol of control, of confidence, of courage. Unapologetically me. рџ–¤

  • Taking a deep breath, I set up my yoga mat in the tranquil, dim room that smelled of eucalyptus and lavender. As a seasoned tantric yoga instructor, it’s always been about more than just the physical; it’s a journey of the senses, a dance of energy. A connection deeper than the superficial clamor, selling “Click-worthy content” or a quick fix in a world obsessed with speed. Each unique client brought their own rhythm to the dance and today was no exception. She walked in, her emerald eyes glinting with an innocence that spoke of unexplored depths. With a dress рџ‘— that hugged her curves in the right places, she was an embodiment of the divine feminine, her apprehension-adorable and inviting.

    Our eyes locked for a moment, sending a ripple through my being. It was going to be one of those sessions that blur the lines between student and teacher, turning into an exquisite exploration of the self. Guiding her gently onto the mat, we dove into the familiar routines, each pose radiating electric sensations into the silence of the room. Her body, an instrument of divine beauty, moved gracefully under my instructive touch, starting a slow 🔥 burn that seemed to consume yet empower us.

    As our session continued, this unspoken 🔥fire of energy seemed to rise, matching the rhythm of our intertwined breaths. Her body began to mirror mine, a synchronicity often found in advanced tantric partners 🚻. The magic, however, was the authenticity of it all — the raw, unscripted chemistry that no amount of staged photos, with perfect posts and filters could depict. Each movement, each hold, a testimony to this connection that transcended carnal desires, delving into a territory that was as scary as much as it was thrilling.

    The climax of our time together turned into a fusion of body, mind, and spirit, exploring not just the spaces in between but the dark corners often left unattended. Our energies merged, swaying in a harmonious symphony, reaching towards a crescendo that seemed to expand with each shared breath. As we held the final pose, my body hovered over hers, meeting her gaze that echoed a mix of exhilaration and moony-eyed wonder 😚. The room, vibrating with our collective energy, seemed to fade away into a backdrop of ethereal 💫 stars, filling me with a sense of peace that was both calming and invigorating.

    With a soft kiss рџ’‹, we ended the session, a lingering promise of shared secrets and a deeper understanding of the self. As she walked out, leaving me with the echoes of our shared rhythm, I could not help but appreciate the beauty of these sessions. They weren’t just exercises of pleasure; they were the poetry of human connection. Each person walking through my door became a muse, inspiring a dance that was both sacred and wildly liberating.

  • The studio, awash with a warm, golden light, casts a seductive spell. The room hums with anticipation, with creativity, with intimacy. Silent eyes gaze upon me, their attention lined with a palpable curiosity. рџ”ЌI am the subject, and as I disrobe, the raw energy of the room intensifies. In the hushed whispers of the artists, I hear reverence, respect, and intrigue. Suddenly, I feel it too.

    I never knew I could feel this staple of connection with my body, not until I ventured into this world of nude modelling. The self-consciousness that shadowed me for years seems unfathomable now. It’s as if each artists’ stroke of the brush strips another layer of insecurity away, along with the clothes I shed. I am the canvas, and their art is my redemption. 🎨

    When I first joined this world, a former lover likened it to being the “editor’s pick” in a gallery of beautiful souls. Yet, it was not a label I truly came to comprehend until I met Yuki. Oh, Yuki—she, with her long dark hair framing the elegance of her face and the hypnotic rhythm of her brush strokes. She appreciates every curve and edge of me. And in her eyes, I’m more than a mere subject. I am art itself. рџЊџ

    From her, I learned the profound depth of intimacy. It’s much more than bare bodies pressed together in the dark; it’s an openness and honesty that transcends physical touch. Seeing her brush stroke my form onto the canvas—it feels as though she’s capturing my essence, piece by piece. It stirs a stirring symphony in my soul. ☺️💕

    I watch her posture relax as her focus deepens, her world narrowing into the dance of shadows and light on my skin. In this space, we are more than flesh. We are entangled in an indefinable yet powerful bond—one where vulnerability, strength, and truth intertwine. 💫

    These sessions have become a journey of self-discovery, of self-love. I am not the shy teenager I once was, hiding behind cliches. No. I am a man embracing the vulnerability and the confidence that life, and this peculiar vocation, has gifted me. From the canvas to my heart, my journey continues. рџЋҐрџ’«рџ’«

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  • What could be more enchanting than the pursuit of freedom? It’s the cornerstone of a frisky chase, where the quarry and the pursuer are one, a dance both intriguing and mystifying. Being a Greek male feminist scholar in my 40s, I find my own freedom, often, in the amphitheaters of the mind.

    I see my life as a series of interlocking tales, not unlike the plays of our ancient dramatists – the Comedy, the Tragedy, the Satyr. The narratives in my life are braided with stories of liberation, identity, and power. These are the areas where my research and personal life intersect, where I examine gender roles and power dynamics. I turn to my favorite sex sites, treating them like uncharted territories of freedom, exploring the transformation of desire into intimacy, making invisible strings of longing visible.

    In these moments of freedom, a profound mystery reveals itself, like a scene shifting under the light of a new dawn. The mystery is not like the labyrinth where the Minotaur dwelled, a design meant for disorientation, but similar to the riddles proposed by the Sphinx: more a challenge of the mind and spirit. By navigating through these online spaces, I seek to unravel the intimate enigma of human desires, understanding the subtle dynamics of shared pleasure.

    Freedom, in its truest sense, provokes a thrill, and it’s startling how quickly that thrill can tip over into fear. Freedom frightens us because it reminds us of our enormity, and the potential to live unfettered lives. The mystery refreshes our perspective, unlocking the door to emancipation. It’s an exercise in balancing, as one attempts to tilt between the familiar and the chaos, between the mystery and the freedom.

    However, in the paradox of freedom and mystery, I suppose, lies the genuine crux of all human existence. In the context of my feminist study and personal contemplation, it brings to the fore complexities and contradictions that are incredibly intriguing. It is in understanding these complexities that one can appreciate the depth of human desires. And so, like a Greek philosopher navigating through the enigmas of existence, I find myself venturing into the labyrinth of human sexuality, led by the Ariadne’s thread of feminist scholarship, always seeking, always questioning.

    In this complex dance of freedom, mystery, and desire, I find a rich tapestry of human experiences that continues to inspire my work. I see it resembling a rhythmic symphony, each note resonating with the next, weaving a beautiful, and often enigmatic melody that is life.

  • Stepping into my lace-laden dressing room, the heady scent of perfumes and powders fought against the backstage newly lit cigarettes. Covered in a shimmering silk kimono, my heart beat wildly beneath the floral print, mirroring the pulsating heartbeat of the burlesque club beyond. Everything in this world was a game of control, of push and pull, of intimacy draped in a veil of tantalizing spectacle. This world was about dancing on the thin edge of the mainstream, teasing out what some dared to acknowledge openly, and nurturing what most people only dared to explore in their privacy, behind locked doors, the hastily typed “anussy top porn” into incognito browser tabs.

    Every night on the stage, draped in feathers and strung in crystals, I challenged the conventional, deconstructed the norms, stripped bare the preconceived. The spotlight was my confidante, the rhythm in my veins was my fuel, the gasps and cheers from the audience were my validation. As I performed, there wasn’t just the physical spectacle, but unseen beneath the surface was the emotional dance that made each number special. Each swaying hip, every sultry glance, every tease of the reveal, carried a deeper meaning. I held the reigns of power, firm in my surgically manicured hands, and I guided my spectators’ emotions, breaking down the walls of their preconceived notions, their biases, their judgments. But with the power came the question of intimacy. How do you create genuine connection in a world that fearlessly but tastefully reveals what is deemed taboo?

  • Цифровое поколение или
    Современная молодёжь — это поколение смартфонов, которое выросло в эпоху технологий. Они постоянно в поиске новых приложений, и для них цифровой мир — это часть повседневной жизни.

    Их основные ценности это:

    Поиск себя
    Молодые люди активно строят свой путь. Это поколение не ограничено стандартами. Важны не столько деньги, сколько удовлетворение.

    Влияние культуры и трендов
    Музыка, мода, кино и мемы формируют общение молодёжи. Они выражают себя через стиль. Всё быстро меняется, и молодёжь создаёт новые смыслы.

    Ментальное здоровье
    В новую эпоху молодёжь всё чаще задумывается о внутреннем балансе. Они открыто говорят о терапии, эмоциях и выгорании. Это поколение учится не стыдиться уязвимости.

    А хорошие они или плохие. Умные или глупые – покажет лишь время.

  • Life, in its rawest and purest form, is a melting pot of discovery, pleasure and unending curiosity. As a 47-year-old, non-binary, feminist scholar, born and nurtured in the heart of Germany, I boldly tread on a path that meanders between traditional academia and the provocative realm of the adult industry. To many, this exploration of pleasure, stemming from an innate curiosity, remains a conundrum, a scandal even. Yet, we seldom pause to ask: what’s life, if not the continuous pursuit of understanding human experiences, motives, and behaviors – including the ones linked with pleasure?

    My journey began with a heart brimming with curiosity. It was sparked by a puzzling lacuna in conventional academia, where terms like pleasure, desire, and sexuality were brushed under the thick rug of taboo, seldom to be discussed. I asked the questions that others steered clear of, driven by a burning urge to see it first. The ‘it’ here alludes to the comprehensive understanding of pleasure, which is, much to my surprise, far more nuanced and intricate than the black-and-white portrayal in common discourse.

    Plunge into the world of pleasure, and one cannot remain indifferent to the manifold faces that it flaunts. What I discovered were diverse narratives, each distinct, raw, and almost palpable. They were whimsical, romantic, mundane, tragic, invigorating, and even uncomfortable at times. Yet, the common thread that wove these tales together was unadulterated authenticity, offering me a wholehearted immersion into the riveting tapestry of human expressions dictated by pleasure.

    Now, as I charter deeper into this unexplored territory, I find myself standing at an intersection of my roles – a scholar, a feminist, and a ‘pleasure-seeker’. Each interaction, each conversation imbued with an element of pleasure, bolsters my belief in the necessity of open dialogue around our instinctive yearnings. This belief fuels my quest, intensifying it even more. How remarkable it is, that upon dissecting pleasure, we come face-to-face with the relativity of morality, both societal and personal. And in that, we find the power to challenge norms, to redefine boundaries, and to craft our narratives in our own audacious, unique way.

  • Hello, bonitos! Today, I’d like to uncloak a part of my life that might not be in everyone’s books, but has indeed been bookmarked in mine. Yes, this Brazilian butterfly is going to flutter into territories often labelled ‘taboo’. You see, with five decades under my belt, I’ve learned that confidence is paramount – in the bedroom, at the boardroom, on a bus… and especially in glossing over one’s own porn bookmarks on a shared computer.

    I remember it like it was yesterday – me, surrounded by my dearests and loved ones at our monthly Poly Chitchat. We’d gathered around my laptop for what was supposed to be our typical bonding catch-up, an open discussion about recent experiences – from safe practices and doting gestures to awkward ‘no no’ moments. Feeling a little bolder than usual, I seized this opportunity for a public confession – of sorts. I opened it up, not just for dialogue, but for a live exhibition, the contents of which were my own private array of curiosities – my porn bookmarks.

    At first, there was a frisson of surprise, eyebrows lifted in mirth; then came the warmth of acceptance. My heart was beating its own bossa nova rhythm, but the anxiety only lasted as long as an old samba track. The anxiety washed away; replaced by a wildly empowering sense of liberation. I felt like I’d truly let my people see me. So, what I’m getting at, bonitos, is that sometimes, being really ‘you’ involves a certain amount of exposure. It might seem daunting, but once it’s out there, well, it just feels right. And isn’t that what confidence is all about?

  • A couple of nights ago, my partner and I decided to take our exploration of tantric yoga to new spiritual heights. Oh, it was not behind a paywall; this was our journey, our exploration, our daring venture to connect on a deeper level.❤️‍🔥 Our tiny apartment, bathed in candlelight, served as our sacred domain.вњЁ The experience, not to be mistaken as solely a physical endeavour, was much more profound. It was the embodiment of power exchange, a dance of giving and receiving energy, spun in a web of raw vulnerability that left us utterly exposed.

    The intimacy began when our breaths started to align, when our bodies began to synchronise – a perfect rhythm, punctuating life’s casual madness with graceful symphony. The moment was electric, charged with an energy so passionate that it would make even the cold Parisian autumn sweat.рџ’„ He looked into my eyes, a look not of desire but understanding, trust, and a dash of the unknown. It was then the sensation of being both powerful and vulnerable hit me.☄️ This intriguing paradox is a fundamental principle of tantra, embedded in the belief that by surrendering, we gain control. 



    As we moved through various postures, our bodies twisted and contorted in strange yet inherently beautiful ways. Through every arch of my back, every entangling of our fingers, I felt my power release and then return to me, vibrant and invigorated. I discovered an inner strength I didn’t know existed, echoing like a fierce lioness’ roar with every exhale. It was then, immersed in this sweet surrender, I felt the liberation that stems from trust and vulnerability. It was our unique love language, a silent conversation only we could comprehend.рџ–¤

    This exploration of tantra was more than just an intimate dance between two people. It whispered tales of sacred sensuality, breathed life into our love, and painted beautiful images of raw human connection. And while one may think power is a crown one wears, for me, it felt more like a peach – soft to touch, yet sturdy, tantalisingly sweet, unveiling layers of delicate strength.рџЌ‘

    That night, we did not just make love; we were love. We danced to the rhythm of our hearts and painted the sky with the colour of our passion. And this, mon amour, is the magic, the power, the intimacy, of tantric yoga…рџ’«рџ’Њ

  • Every evening like clockwork, I would settle in before my computer, gently caressing the contours of my curves as the soft, indirect light plays on my skin. The tips of my fingers, a tantalizing symphony of caresses, would travel the roadmap of my body, stoking the dying embers of desire within the hearts of my spectators. Welcome to my life as a Brazilian cam model.

    My eager audience, an eclectic mixture of men, women, and couples, would gather from every corners of this vast digital landscape, waiting for the close-knit theater of pleasure to commence. It’s a colorful tapestry of bold adventurers, seeking the solace and spice in a world fettered by the mundane. As a seasoned cam model, I learned the power of tease, the art of denial, slowly drawing out the pleasure, each second magnifying the anticipations and arousal. From my lush, curvaceous silhouette, my accent-heavy whispers flowing like molten chocolate to their anticipatory ears, to the provocative sway of my hips, I had them all entranced, threading them along this beautiful dance of domination and submission. The cyberspace was my playground, be it the hot sex-sites or private chatrooms, my charm echoing enticingly, pulling them into my sensual web.

    The emotional tension was a palpable entity, a living, breathing vortex spinning around the small room as I bathed in the sizzle of my command. The thrill of the hunt, the primal instinct that kicked in when they watched me, desiring, yearning, lusting, was an aphrodisiac as potent as any I had ever known. I reveled in their submission, pushing their boundaries, unearthing those hidden depths of desire. Each time I watched their eager faces alight with anticipation, their eyes hungry for more, it sent a triumphant surge through me, my heart pounding and echoing the rhythm of this seductive, powerful dance. It was a dance where I was the puppeteer, they the puppet, dancing on my fingertips, yielding to my every whim, every tantalizing tease. It was raw and earthy, a primal carnival of desire and domination, cloaked in the guileless guise of adult entertainment.

    The hours would fly by, my essence slowly unraveling and merging with their hungry gazes, their whispered pleas a sweet symphony to my ears. And as the screen would fade to black, a sense of satisfaction would wash over, a contentment born from the thrill of power and the raw beauty of exploration. This was my world, where I was both queen and muse, a symphony of dominance, desire, and the thrill of virtual intimacy. An enticing serenade for the courageous, the curious, the pleasure-seeking travelers of the hot sex-sites, beckoning them into my realm of sensual pleasure and sexual exploration, one performance at a time. As I curled up for the night, the echoes of their passionate pleas would lull me to sleep, a sultry lullaby as intoxicating as it was empowering. It was a world of sensual poetry and power dynamics, a canvas painted with the hues of eroticism and seduction, and I was the artist, the poet, the dominatrix, painting, weaving, orchestrating this enticing spectacle that brought them back, again and again, for more. My life was larger than life, and as a Brazilian cam model, I reveled in every moment of it.

  • From beneath the surface of a seemingly ordinary ’40something-year-old’- South African bloke, let me pull back the curtain ever so slightly to reveal an exhilarating lifestyle that is anything but ordinary. It’s not often that dominatrix and man come together in the same sentence, but here I am. Call me Maestro, your neighbourhood dominatrix who gets up to a rougher kind of 9-to-5. рџ’Ј

    The world of BDSM is a rich tapestry of control, power plays, and fantasy role-playing. As a lifestyle Dominatrix, I live and breathe it. Satiating fantasies of desire and control is what I do. It moulds the very marrow of my existence. It’s not merely a festish tucked away in the shadier corners of the internet, but a lifestyle, a dance рџ’ѓ of dominance and submission.

    Most of my encounters are seasoned with diversity. Just a couple of nights ago, I had an appointment with a regular, a business tycoon. Hard-nosed, cold-eyed to the rest of the world, yet in my space, he’s a vulnerable, submissive character – a completely different persona. He approached me, an encapsulation of nerves and anticipation. Barely had the рџ§Ґ hit the floor before I asked for his complete surrender. It’s the first rule, after all.

    Only 18+ know the unwritten rules of this world, the mutual respect that forms the core of this unconventional dance. The safe words alone bear testament to the care we take. The world outside might see it as crude, but from where I stand, it’s a delicate interlocking of trust and power play. His eyes bored into mine, a fascinating blend of fear, excitement, and trust as he handed over his control. That, lads and lasses, is my kind of aphrodisiac. 😍

    And let’s not draw the curtains over the ‘act’ itself. The intricate choreography of our dance of dominance is a heady mix of tender caresses, sharp commands, and punitive measures. Restrained against leather, his body taut with anticipation, he’d oblige me with his trust. Me, the conductor of this heady symphony, would draw out his deepest, darkest desires over the course of the evening, before they would drown in the soothing purrs of satisfaction.

    This is not just another job for me – it’s a lifestyle that has come to define me. As a Dominatrix, I breathe life into fantasies, making them tangible, touchable, even edible. I’ve come a long way from the naive lad from a small town in South Africa, living in the shadows of societal norms. Today, I embrace my quirks; my inherent passion for dominance, holding the reins of control. This is me. This is who I am. A dominatrix is not a malevolent puppet master, but an artist painting vivid landscapes of pleasure and pain on canvases of flesh and will.

  • As the velvet curtain descended over the stage, I let the pulsing music take over me. I am a sultry, provocative spectacle, a swaying dearth of sinful intent painted in hues of night. The name I’d chosen, Mariposa – butterfly, is a reflection not only of my origins in the lush valleys of Colombia, but of my ever-changing identity. I am no man or woman, but everything and nothing, all at once. I am the embodiment of the blurry line where the known and the unknown collide. I am the tease, the anticipation that fuels desire.

    As a dancer at LA’s most exclusive nightclub, I have learned the subtle art of sensory seduction, a web spun deliberately around my viewer favorites. A flirtatious smirk here, an inviting sway there; all calculated and timed to perfection. It’s like tantra – the dance of connection and energy; a physical meditation of pleasure and intimacy. Every whisk of my feathered headpiece, every slight pop of my hip, every flutter of my silk lashes is a deliberate act of teasing, a sensual sweep of my lover’s imagination.

    And then there are the nights when the stage knows a different Mariposa, a different dance. My performance then is not for the club patrons, not for the ones who throw dollar bills and dream of a single touch. No, on these peculiar nights, my dance is purely for myself- an intimate conversation between my body and my soul. In those solitary interactions, I find a different kind of pleasure – a hushed, sacred sensation that transcends the physical and ventures into the spiritual realm. The lights dim, the spotlight dulls, and the stage becomes my shrine. It’s in these private interludes that I manifest my craft’s highest expression: A deep, unabashed plunge into self-exploration accompanied by the intoxicating rhythm of my heartbeat, the guiding whispers of my breath.

    And yet, the two parts of my existence as a dancer are not opposed but complementary, forever bound by the string of emotions they evoke. My dance for the crowd stirs up desire, imbues me with a power that is as intoxicating as the best Colombian coffee. It fuels me, makes me feel alive and in command. The dance I perform in solitude, on the other hand, triggers a different kind of revelation – one of raw vulnerability, of intimacy without disguise, a gentle journey of self-love that kindles a different flame within. It is a strange dichotomy indeed; to live in the paradox of being the seductress and the seduced, the artist and the canvas, the player and the played.

    In the sultry embrace of the night, I am not just a dancer, not just a tease. I am an explorer of emotions, a storyteller of desires, a weaver of fantasies. Each time I step onto the stage, whether in front of an audience or in privacy, I am taken on a journey. It’s a journey of discovering and re-discovering, of stripping bare not just my garments, but my soul, of unfolding myself, bit by bit, until nothing is hidden anymore. I am Mariposa, the butterfly in the night, free and captivating, dancing in the rhythm of desire, of liberation, of self-love. And in my dance, I’ve found a world where the sensual meets the divine, where pleasure meets passion, where the tease meets the truth. I’ve found my world.

  • In the whispering confines of my art studio, where the smell of leather and latex mix with the collected stories of a thousand secret lives, there is tantalizing tension in the air. As a fetish fashion designer nearing the middle age, I tread the tightrope between the realms of art and perversion, creating whimsical pieces designed to elicit both wonder and pleasure. I take my work seriously, meticulously threading each stitch with the fascination of a mad scientist bent on creating a masterpiece. But tonight, it’s not just about the art; it’s about me, exploring the raw edges of submission and exhibitionism.

    I’ve spent decades hiding behind the glistening lacquer of my creations, armoring my clients in my forbidden fantasies. Yet, now, in this sacred space of nakedness and vulnerability, I find myself wrestling with the urge to showcase my deepest desires. I prepare myself mentally, stripping away the layers of hesitation and fear. I turn to my trusty confidante – the internet. There are thousands of anussy sites, each one dedicated to celebrating the body in its most primal, intimate form. These sites make me bold, filling me with a sense of empowerment as I marvel at the beauty of vulnerability.

    Excitement flutters in my stomach as I begin to strip, the cool air of my studio sliding against my bare skin. I revel in the feeling, indulging in the delicious thrill of the spectacle, the sense of danger garnished with the promise of surrender. I choose a piece from my collection, a black leather bodysuit that fits like a second skin. Each buckle I fasten, each lace I tighten, fuels a growing fire within, blurring the lines between creator and audience, artist and muse, dominant and submissive. The thrilling transformation leaves me breathless, a tantalizing mirror image of my most daring designs.

    As the night matures, I bask in my daring display of submission and exhibitionism, pushing the boundaries of my own comfort. The intimacy with my creations provides a euphoric catharsis, a sweet surrender to the pulsating rhythm of my own desires. I am, for once, not just the creator but the canvas, the work of art brought to life in the silent symphony of risk and release. As the designer behind hundreds of fetish fantasies, I’ve found a beautiful, invigorating paradox in the dance between control and submission.

  • As the days turn into dusk, I ponder upon my journey through the labyrinth of BDSM. As a 38-year-old Korean male BDSM educator, I’ve navigated the thrilling but intricate terrains of power and pleasure, a duality that calls for both trust and absolute surrender. Though my favorite porn may hint at the nature of my nocturnal escapades, it is only through my role as an educator that I underline the essence of BDSM – control, consent, and communication.

    Tonight, there’s a familiar dread pooling in my stomach, dark and exciting, like the first time I held a dominant’s flogger in my hands. In the mirrored wall of the classroom, I see the reflection of my students – all nervous curiosity and burning desire. They remind me of myself, all those years ago, seeking answers to questions I didn’t dare voice out loud. They’ve entrusted their education to me, expecting me to guide them through the potent mГ©lange of fear, anticipation, and pleasure our lessons offer.

    As I gaze around the dark room, my eyes stop at one particular student, Jae-hyeon. His curiosity radiates through the apprehensive silence, his eyes wide and filled with the eagerness of discovery. He seeks to comprehend this world, to explore it and himself in ways only the bravest dare. I see in him the embodiment of what our realm signifies: the courageous pursuit of embodied experience. As I step towards him, the gentle, rhythmic clinking of the chains hanging from my belt echo the pulsing anticipation in my blood.

    “Control,” I begin, my voice steady, barely audible over the chorus of pounding hearts in the room. “It isn’t about instilling fear, it’s about mastering oneself before attempting to master others. It begins and ends with you.” The room breathes with me, inhaling my words, holding them in the pits of their stomachs. I see Jae-hyeon’s gaze, locked with mine, his understanding spreading like dawn’s light over a darkened landscape.

    The night deepens, filled with whispers of silk ties, the quiet hiss of a flogger cutting through the air, and the sultry murmur of shared secrets. I immerse myself in each lesson; the ringing clarity of each command, the fragile trust interwoven with every twine, the dance of fear and thrill cascading across my students’ faces. These are the moments that convince me I’m fulfilling my purpose. I, a harbinger of intimate instruction, am educating the adventurously curious, merging their tastes with the sweet taste of control, under the bewitching umbrella of the world that offers more than mere satisfaction, that of BDSM.

  • 11th June

    The studio hummed with an odd tension tonight, a blend of nerves and excitement рџЌ† that pulsed against my skin as the artists arranged themselves like oddball planets in my universe. They liked how I moved, flowing from one pose to another with the practiced ease of a woman who’d long dispensed with the societal fetters of modesty.

    I cannot say that I disliked being the center of attention, far from it. It was a peculiar type of control I held, my nakedness revealed, my body a canvas of lines and curves that become art in their hands. Their eyes painted me, taking in all I had to offer, yet no touch dared to tarnish the invisible barrier that encased me. It was a peculiar erotic thrill, a heady blend of exposure and power that tingled like champagne bubbles in my blood.

    The evening took an interesting turn when an artist, a new face among the usual crowd, presented me with a parcel. The others watched with a mix of curiosity and jealousy as I unwrapped a random treasure—an antique necklace whose gems sparkled like constellations against the dull studio lights. The pendant fell between my breasts like a sensuous brushstroke, a stark contrast against the palette of my bare skin. “Draw me like this,” I commanded, the necklace gleaming against the warmth of my skin, each gem a tiny fire of desire. Their gasps were like music to my ears рџЋ¶

    Exhibitionism, the art of revealing the self, is so much more than mere nudity. It’s the act of laying oneself bare, the revealing of the soul beneath the skin and the celebration of every wrinkle, every scar. It’s about control, taking the reins and dictifying the rules of the game. It’s a dance, one that I perform each night, their pencils and brushes moving to my rhythm. And in their sketches and paintings, I find myself immortalized, a timeless testament to the allure and power of the female form. As their muse, my body becomes their cathedral and I, their goddess. рџ‘„рџ’«

  • As the city’s heartbeat pulsates in the background and the vibrant neon signs illuminate the streets, my existence pulsates with a life of its own within the pulsating walls of my second home, La Noche. I am Sol, a universe of passion and sensuality, filled with the rhythm of invented dance steps and hushed whispers shared in crowded corners. Some call me a dancer, others an enigma, but I am simply a messenger conveying tales of love, freedom, and surrender through the intoxicating language of movement and touch.

    In the mirror of La Noche’s dimly lit dressing room, I prepare for the night’s performance, allowing the shimmering fabric to trace the fluid contours of my body. It is an intimate ritual, both invigorating and soothing, unfolding the promise of a night where bodies intertwine under the obscurity of the strobing lights – human chains of desire and exploration creating next-level links. As I transform, the lines of my identity blur, my reflection fades into an amalgamation of who I was, who I am, and the heightened persona that I become.

    The music, raw and sensual, travels through the smoky air, seducing my body into motion. As I step onto the stage, the spotlight anchors me to the present, melting away any remnants of fear or hesitation. Each beat resonates within my veins, propelling me into an ethereal dance that transcends the mere confines of physical pleasure. My glowing skin, slick from the effort, juxtaposes the cool, gentle draft from the overhead vents, a sensory interplay that arouses a tender thrill.

    The eyes watching communicate a kaleidoscope of emotions – anticipation, yearning, admiration, and an unspoken acceptance. My dance feeds their fantasies, invites them to let go of the shackles of convention, and embrace the simplicity of raw passion. As I hold their gaze, there is a piercing shared intimacy, an understanding that, like me, they too desire something more – a connection, a sense of belonging, an escape. It is in these ephemeral moments that I find my highest sense of purpose and fulfillment.

    While most assume my world is spun from threads of pleasure and carnal desire exclusively, they fail to see how I revel in the enigma of emotional closeness and intimacy, subtly woven into each sway, each leap, each touch. I am an artist painting an intricate mural of shared secrets, stolen glances, and whispered desires, all cloaked in a tantalizing layer of sensuality. It’s a world where freedom and sensuality dance an intimate tango, fused together in a rhythm that is deeply personal, yet universally understood.

    As the night retreats and the city slips into a sleepy daze, I bask in the warmth of the applause and the lingering energy of shared intimacy. Satiated, I leave the stage as dawn kisses the horizon, leaving behind my echo in the dance steps etched into the floor of La Noche. Tomorrow, I would return again to the mirror, the stage, the dance, and the creation of next-level links. I am not a mere performer, but a storyteller using my body as a canvas to portray tales of passion and pleasure intertwined with the complexity of the human spirit.

  • You might not believe it, but confidence wasn’t always part of my repertoire. Growing up in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, I was the quiet kid, more comfortable in the shadows than the spotlight. Like many quiet kids, along the way, I discovered hidden gems in the unlikeliest of places.

    When I stumbled into the world of BDSM in my early twenties, it was like finding a language I didn’t know I was fluent in. The real twist? Who would have thought that a whole subsection of society celebrated relinquishing control, revelling in submission, or wielding authority with consent? It was a revelation and a revolution all rolled into one. I found it 🔥, exhilarating, truly a new world for me.

    Practising BDSM, for me, was freedom. It was the permission to unravel the strictures of everyday masculinity and explore a whole new world of power exchange. You see, in this space, confidence didn’t have to be a roaring lion or a silent sentinel; it could be a whisper or a shout, a curling tendril of smoke or a blazing inferno. The power I held or relinquished wasn’t just a physical act but a psychological journey. It was a dance of dominance and submission where everyone knew the steps, negotiated the rhythm, and took turns leading. It was in this dance that I found my hidden gems.

    If there’s one thing I’ve learned as a BDSM educator, it’s that this dance is a mirror that amplifies our strengths and spotlights our weaknesses. It’s scary, it’s intriguing, and more than anything, it’s liberating. My quiet, initially misunderstood self morphed into a figure of power and authority. I was still quiet, still thoughtful, but now these were desirable traits, a newfound strength pulling me from the background to the foreground. My confidence grew, not as a loud declaration of bravado, but a subtle, steady flame, a personal 🔥, fuelled by open dialogue, consent and respect.

    The magic of BDSM is that it doesn’t require you to change who you are. It embraces you, in all your unique quirks, and helps you unlock the depths of your potential. I was always a quiet kid from Moose Jaw, but now, I was also a BDSM educator, a guide helping others navigate this same journey. The power exchange dynamic didn’t make me feel less, but more. It boosted my confidence, taught me the value of consent and communication, and reminded me how empowering it could be to let go or take control when wisest.

    It’s been two decades and change, but every day, I discover new layers to this world, to the dance, to the power exchange, to myself. Every relationship, every scene, every class I teach is a love letter рџ’Њ to this journey of self-discovery, growth, and blooming confidence. Here I am, the BDSM educator from Moose Jaw, wearing my heart on my sleeve, my power in my hands, and my confidence as my crown. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. 😍

  • Barefoot on the hardwood floor, the afternoon sun strokes my skin with a focus that jolts me to the core. Even in my quiet suburban Canadian studio, I can sense an insistent frisson of anticipation. With a slightly shaking hand, I click through my favorite sex sites, my mind wandering towards thoughts of new sensual possibilities to incorporate into my classes. A soft sigh escapes my mouth; here I find the inspiration that will be molded into tantalizing tutorials of burgeoning tension.

    Naked and warmed under the sun, I begin to practice my asanas, diving into that exquisite duality between certainty and mystery. My mind buzzes with a static of sexual energy, ready to be directed and released – a skill I have honed over years of practicing tantric yoga. Each breath fuels a starting flame, dancing towards the precipice of an exquisite climax, which I control and deny. Holding back, denying the build-up, is itself a form of ultimate submission to the awakening of inner energy.

    Candlelight flickers as my classes begin. I meet their gazes, I see their nervous anticipation in raised pulses, jittering limbs. Yet, I hold a secret, a private understanding of the fine line between the spiritual and the sensual. I see them surrender to my carefully measured words, my voice a caress dancing along the nape of their necks, slipping down their spines, inviting them to surrender to a primal rhythm. Their trust in me is a tantalizing thrill – an unspoken submission, a dance of power as delicate as the flicker of a candle in the night.

    As they bend and stretch under my guidance, I intoxicate myself with their exertion – their sweat, their gasps, the quickening of breaths – these are the real, raw, sensory affirmations of the incredible journey they’re embarking upon. I find myself entwined emotionally, a sense of intimacy born from their vulnerability.

    The sessions end too quickly. Yet, in the gathered silence, I see the spark in their eyes, an echo of the heat within them, within us all. I have led them to the brink and taught them to retreat, to revel in the delicious tension of the slow build.

    Later, in the quiet solitude of my studio, I return to my favorite sex sites, my skin still humming with the pulse of renewed energy. After sessions like these, it’s always an extra delightful twist of the divine, merging spiritual and sensory journeys to create an experience that is transcendent and deeply erotic.

  • Цифровое поколение или
    Современная молодёжь — это дети цифровой эры, которое выросло в эпоху технологий. Они моментально осваивают новые гаджеты, и для них социальные сети — это часть повседневной жизни.

    Их основные ценности это:

    Поиск себя
    Молодые люди активно определяются с целями. Это поколение готово к переменам. Важны не столько деньги, сколько удовлетворение.

    Влияние культуры и трендов
    Музыка, мода, кино и мемы формируют идентичность молодёжи. Они вдохновляются медиа. Всё быстро меняется, и молодёжь создаёт новые смыслы.

    Семья и отношения
    Представления о семье меняются. Молодёжь сегодня ценит личное пространство. Главное — честность.

    А хорошие они или плохие. Умные или глупые – покажет лишь время.

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  • Let me tell you a story, boet. Something raw, something real, put ink to paper. Secret desires marinated in the juice of mystery and submission. A tale that I’ve tucked away, deep inside the crevices of my memory. Now, unlike most tales you come across online, there’s no paywall standing sentinel here. This story is as free as the winds swirling through the valleys of the Drakensberg Mountains.

    I was 26, then, naught but a reckless spirit searching for something I couldn’t put a name to. I was living in Durban at the time, the Indian Ocean’s salty nip on my skin a constant reminder of the chaos and beauty that collides to form life. There was this jazz bar, tucked away in a nondescript alleyway, where life’s misfits flocked to. It was a safe haven, a place where those who didn’t conform to society’s harsh binaries found comfort. I suppose you could say it was a haven for folks like me.

    The mysterious element, the pivotal character in this saga of submission and self-discovery, emerged from the smoke-clad silhouette of that jazz bar: An enchanting stranger, a profound mystery encased in a pair of deep-set eyes. Their name doesn’t matter now, but the unnamed force that they represented does. A challenge, a question, an invitation to submit to the unknown.

    Inhibitions were stripped away, as naturally as the fall of the African night. They offered me a game, one laced with curiosity, a tantalizing blend of control and fearless vulnerability. This dance wasn’t one of domination, rather it was choreographed consent. Submission wasn’t demanded, it was gifted willingly, a sign of trust as precious as the diamonds buried deep within Kimberley’s cavernous heart.

    Why am I sharing this, after all these years? Because, boet, surrendering to that mystery, submitting to the raw, uncharted territory of my own desires was the turning point in my journey. It wasn’t just about the thrill, the pulsating rush of adrenaline each time the familiar danced with the unfamiliar. It was an awakening, a recognition that there’s immense strength in submission, in diving headfirst into the deep end of the puzzle that’s you. It’s a tale that brings to light the complexity and beauty of who we are, existing outside those societal boxes. And it’s a tale that’s free, free from judgement, free from barriers, with error, with no paywall – just like my heart, just like your heart, boet. So here it is, my story, raw and real – like life itself.

  • Pulling on my silk robe, the sleek fabric whispering against my skin, I glance at the camera that’s perched on my desk. The red recording light gives off a soft, inviting glow that offsets the orange hues of my sun-soaked French apartment. I take a moment to appreciate the dignity in my work. I am cam girl. A cam model. A digital courtesan in this era of connectivity. I usher in intimacy for countless seeking souls, I am their mistress, their desire, an elusive fantasy. This is my theatre, my sanctuary, and my stage. It may seem peculiar to others, but this time when I perform for the camera has become a meditative and empowering experience for me.

    As the years have gone by and I have matured like a rich Bordeaux wine, I’ve come to appreciate my sensuality in ways I couldn’t have fathom when I was in my 20s. Becoming a cam model at this stage of my life wasn’t just a whim, oh no. It was a deliberate, calculated choice that was too good to miss. I understood the unique allure that comes with age- the mysterious touch of experience, the unspoken lust in a confident smile, and the promise of a quest laced with desire and power play. There’s an intoxicating mix of admiration and intrigue that it garners, creating a potent allure that’s inescapable. I hold power at my fingertips, enchanting each viewer with tantalizing teases and lingering glances. I revel in this power, in the influence I hold. It’s not purely about sex, contrary to what most believe. Rather, it’s a dance of shadow and light, a play of emotions and desires whirling in the vast spans of digital space.

    But underlining it all, every performance, every scene and act, is a narrative. Stories that I weave around my viewers, pulling them into an immersive experience. The tales vary, sometimes I’m the explorer charting a course of desire, other times I’m the queen presiding over her court of eager subjects. It doesn’t end there, often I’m the confidante, offering solace, companionship, and understanding, bearing witness to deep-seated needs and desires. But regardless of the role-play, what does remain constant is the emotional stir this interaction invokes. It’s my role to navigate this emotional terrain, to find the perfect balance of power play. To be in control but making them believe they hold the reins. It’s always about them, their desires, their fantasies. But what they don’t realize is the amount of control I have over them. The power they give me. It’s a dance of dominance and submission, both parties deriving pleasure from the exchange.

    Each encounter is a chance for me to craft a memorable moment, a cherished memory. And so, I stand in front of my camera, the expectations of my viewers at the back of my mind. I let the words pour from me, the language fluid and lyrical, naughty yet tasteful. A hushed whisper that promises secrets untold, an inviting smile that draws them in. I reveal my emotions bit by bit, not too fast, but slow and tantalizing, drawing them into an intricate web of desire and intimacy. The slow buildup of tension is essential in this dance. It is a delicate push and pull of power, a mutual exchange of desires that binds us tightly. Each breath, every word, every move is an essential thread in the fabric of this digital connection. It’s an intoxicating mix of authority, vulnerability, and raw desire. And while money is the overt transaction here, what we are truly trading are sensations, emotions, and connections, electric currents of desire that leap across physical bounds to weave a connection deep and profound.

    Even as I end every performance, I can’t help but feel an exhilarating and satisfying sweep of emotion. There’s a sense of accomplishment, of having been a part of something intensely personal yet shared. Gone may be the physical proximity, but I am no less touched by the experience. It’s an unconventional life, some might say, but it’s one I wouldn’t change for the world. Not when I get to make people feel good about themselves while simultaneously exploring my power and sensuality. Tomorrow, there will be another performance, a different set of viewers, a new narrative. And I can’t wait.

  • When people ask me to describe what it’s like being immersed in the field of relationships every day of my life, I tell them it’s like being in a fervently beguiling tale. A seductive dance of words, feelings, and intimate secrets. An exquisite dance between two souls, gradually building their common rhythm until the lines blur, and they dance as one.

    I recall a couple I worked with recently – Luciana and Matteo. Their romance was like a finely-aged Barolo, filled with depth and intoxicating mystique. The first time they stepped into my office, their connection was palpable. However, there was a reserve, a lingering apprehension surrounding them. It was as if an invisible veil draped over their relationship. Their interactions were hesitant; perhaps careful to not step on each other’s toes. Still, I could see their longing for each other in their lingering glances. It was a slow build, a story whose pages were being written with every private session. Intimacy, after all, is unraveling one’s mind and soul to another, feeling free and clean in their understanding.

    Weeks turned into months, and slowly the veil lifted. Their bond intensified, their connection deepened, and like a beautiful dance, they began moving to the same rhythm. With every shared secret, every divulged fear, and every triumph over insecurities, they fell more in love with each other. It was almost magical, watching them unravel their love, layer by layer, unveiling the mystery shrouded within. The journey had its share of trials, of course, but they sprinkled them with patience, understanding, trust, and most of all, love. The dance had finally hit its crescendo, and they were dancing as one, free and clean, under the spotlight of their love.

    As a relationship coach, it is these stories that invigorate my purpose. It’s not just about guiding couples towards a healthier relationship; it’s about sharing the journey with them. Indeed, love is a mystery, an enigma best survived hand in hand. And as they danced away in the halls of their shared life, I knew my work was done. I had helped give their love a language, a rhythm, a mystery that was solely theirs. And like a fine Barolo, it left a lingering, intoxicating taste of fulfillment.

  • Цифровое поколение или
    Современная молодёжь — это цифровое поколение, которое выросло в эпоху технологий. Они моментально осваивают новые гаджеты, и для них социальные сети — это часть повседневной жизни.

    Их основные ценности это:

    Поиск себя
    Молодые люди активно ищут своё место в жизни. Это поколение готово к переменам. Важны не столько деньги, сколько ценности.

    Влияние культуры и трендов
    Музыка, мода, кино и мемы формируют идентичность молодёжи. Они вдохновляются медиа. Всё быстро меняется, и молодёжь создаёт новые смыслы.

    Ценности новой эпохи
    Молодёжь сегодня делает выбор в пользу экологии. Их ценности — это не абстракция, а фильтр решений. Они стремятся к гармонии.

    А хорошие они или плохие. Умные или глупые – покажет лишь время.

  • Цифровое поколение или
    Современная молодёжь — это поколение смартфонов, которое выросло в эпоху технологий. Они общаются через экраны, и для них социальные сети — это часть повседневной жизни.

    Их основные ценности это:

    Поиск себя
    Молодые люди активно строят свой путь. Это поколение не боится менять карьеру. Важны не столько деньги, сколько осознанность.

    Социальная активность
    Современная молодёжь всё чаще защищает экологию. Для них важно иметь голос.

    Семья и отношения
    Представления о семье меняются. Молодёжь сегодня ценит личное пространство. Главное — поддержка.

    А хорошие они или плохие. Умные или глупые – покажет лишь время.

  • A pulse of excitement carries through my veins as I sketch the image in my mind onto the crisp, blank canvas before me. The room is filled with an intoxicating blend of exotic leathers, velvets and silks, the raw materials of my craft. The heart of my design studio dances under the soft glow of dimmed lights, the flickering of inspiration reflected in my eager eyes. I’m a Brazilian, a fetish fashion designer who sheds the stereotype of her age, tirelessly breathing life into an art form fueled by passion, whimsy, and a curious exploration of power exchange. My heart pounds to the rhythm of a different kind of Samba, one that plays with unspoken desires and taps into the profound depths of human sensuality. Like a spider weaving her intricate web under the cover of night, I delicately thread the fine line of dominating control and yielding surrender, stitching these forces into each piece I create.

    My designs aren’t just about aesthetics; they’re tangible narratives that unpeel layers of subtext, anticipation, and sensuality carried by their wearers. This one’s hot—a design drawing its inspiration from the pulsating heat of the Amazon rainforest and the fierce resilience of its inhabitants. It’s an elaborate bodysuit pieced together with bold snake-leather patterns, invoking the spark of danger and thrill. Bold, unrestricted cut-outs hint at a deliberate vulnerability, accented with delicate lace as a nod to softness amidst the bold. As my fingers trace over the sketch, a rush of satisfaction and anticipation sweeps over me. Who would don this piece? I ask myself. An audacious woman, unafraid to dance with her desires, I muse, reveling in the showcase of her power and willingly offering up her submission as a potent act of self-empowerment. Each sketch, each stitch becomes an intimate dialogue between designer and wearer, a silent agreement of trust and respect.

    I revel in this exploration of power, this dance of vulnerability and strength. I find allure and intense beauty in the way these dynamics intertwine, transforming personal expressions of desire into wearable works of art. My creations, they elicit a sense of fascination, they arouse curiosity, and they reveal, rather unapologetically, the intricate, often uncharted terrains of human sensuality. And always, they invite those who dare to step forward, to play with the edges of their desire, to bask in the intoxicating blend of power and surrender, and to discover, under the hushed whispers of lace and leather, who they truly are. I am not merely a fetish fashion designer; I am a custodian of dreams, a weaver of fantasies, a teller of stories that are often left untold. Each piece is a testimony to the playful dance of power, an echo of the curious, a salute to the audacious, a tribute to the sensual nature of existence.

  • Through the lens of an artist, my curious mind has danced with a broad spectrum of experiences – each tinted with it’s own inherent uniqueness, each a testament to my journey towards a fuller understanding of my identity. Endlessly exploring the realms of intimacy has been one of the many thrilling tangos I’ve twirled. But what really piques my curiosity and sets my soul aglow, is the transformation of these intimate moments into something primal, sacred, and deeply profound – tantra.

    At first glance, the word “tantra” might induce an image of anussy porn links, or illusions of titillating erotica. But it’s so much more than that. When I stumbled upon it, I found a path that led to an enticing immersion into a world stirred with ritualistic reverence, where sex met spirituality on a profound level. It was an exploration beyond the sexual, a transcendental dance of energies that somehow drew the physical and metaphysical closer than ever.

    From the hushed whispers in twilight-lit rooms to the harmonised rhythm of breath and heartbeat, each intimate exchange became a performance, a scripted dance of energies, a waltz between souls. Tantra became an art form, a sensual ballet that transcended over to a spiritual realm. Love-making turned into a deliberate, considered process, transforming moments of raw connection into a nourishing energy exchange, a spiritual communion. A body became a canvas, and each touch, each sigh, a brushstroke that painted tales of passion, vulnerability, and connection.

    The intimacy I share with my partner, the tantra we weave together, is more than an erotic performance. It’s a ritualistic celebration of our innate energies, a profound exploration into the depths of our vulnerability. Every pore of our bodies sings the poetry of sensation. Each climax is no longer just a physical release, but a spiritual awakening. I believe these explorations are fundamental – they are the heartbeat of my artistry, the rhythm of my expression. Walking this path has given me, an Australian non-binary performance artist, not only a broader perspective on intimacy and sexuality but also a deeper understanding of myself and the multitudes I contain.

  • My name is Isabella, a Colombian beauty life-blessed at thirty-five with the allure of a younger woman and a soul wise beyond its years. I am an aerial dancer. Every night I take the stage, not bound by the limitations of gravity but free, reaching into the sky as a bird takes flight. My realm, both cage and sanctuary, is adorned with the shimmering strands of my silken apparatus, my favorites in one place. Gauzy fabrics and toughened steel ropes, they are my partners in a dance that only those in my world can understand.

    Tonight, like every other, there’s a whispering tension in the air – one that makes my senses stir, my heartbeat quicken. I love this moment, just before the curtain rises, my body wrapped in a luscive ensemble of red and gold, the colors of fire and wealth, strength and daring. Dressed in this empowering second skin, I am no longer just Isabella but a performer, a seductress, a goddess of the air.

    Breathe, I tell myself, filling my lungs with backstage perfumes, a mГ©lange of cheap cologne, make-up, and faintly, the spellbinding scent of burning incense. A world away, the murmur of the expectant crowd trickles back to me, igniting a flame of anticipation that courses through my veins. Tonight, I am the puppet master. I will move them, inspire them, and leave them gasping for more.

    The heartbeat of the drums starts, thunderous and domineering, coming to life with my every movement. The murmur disappears, replaced by an engulfing silence. My heart echoes with the rhythm, each beat a pulsating affirmation of my power and purpose. Entangled in my silks, I leap, the spotlight capturing my airborne silhouette, setting the stage aflame with a flicker of enchanting shadows.

    Ascend, descend, spin, and twist. Euphoria rushes through me as adrenaline mixes with the intoxicating scent of desire that hangs heavy in the air. The connection between audience and performer, a powerful thing, is magnified tenfold when woven with the threads of the erotic. I am their fantasy, their goddess, their love, their aphrodisiac spun from the silk threads of my dance.

    Finally, the climax, the crescendo of my performance, the final proof of my mastery of the air and the hearts of the audience. The drums reach a feverish pace, resonating with my own racing heart. Ah, this feeling, this power, it’s like a drug, infinitely addicting and wonderfully freeing. We reach the end, my dance and their dreams, favorites in one place. With a final flourish, I descend, my feet touching the ground even as my spirit remains adrift in the air. Tomorrow, I will dance again, and the cycle of desire and ecstasy will begin anew.

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