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In another life, I was a married person. I was trying to be someone that was never true to myself, for an individual who never saw my efforts as extraordinary as they were. I was seen as either doing the bare minimum, or not measuring up to expectations. There was frequent emotional abuse, sometimes physical abuse, and at one point, sexual abuse.

January 4th was the eve of the anniversary of my former marriage. In my divorce, I was left with two journals that my abuser had written; a twisted fairytale lie of the first two years of our relationship through the lens of a self-righteous narcissist who was obsessed with me and codependent on my company.

Pepper joined me in burning them to ashes, as we each took turns rending pages from leather spines. Passages adorned with faces that no longer exist and words written to twist the truth were mocked and smote from reality by a clown God who’s brought me more joy and laughter within months than I can remember in years.

I reveled in reflection as I felt the burdens of my past lift from my soul like the smoke rising from the flames. I grinned doggishly as Pepper lit a joint off of a page that features the face of both my abuser and of a haggard visage.

I am fully free. The vestiges of my past are erased from this earth, and in the wake of actualizing ash I exist as an agent of Pepper’s will, and am free to chase my dreams unbridled from any notion of being an impostor. I know who I am, and I know what I am. I am a nonbinary butch queer, I am a Hench, I am Pepper’s good Dog.

The 5th of January, the anniversary, was spent in the care of my handler. A session which started with a full hour of cuddling drizzled with banter, smothering, and indulging in the privilege of frenching Pepper’s armpit and subsequently receiving a proper bite for tickling them a bit too much. I don’t even have a general kink for pits, but there’s just something about Pepper that coaxes my true freak potential to the surface like nothing else.

Once my insides felt warm and fuzzy, they were ceremoniously rearranged by Pepper’s pegging with a dragon dick nearly eight inches in length and nearly two inches in diameter. I reached a deep, body quaking climax without even having my dick touched, fucked into the table to the beat of a Missy Elliot tune.

As a good service dog does, I cleaned the gear with care and tidied the dungeon. Once I was showered up, we had a dance party as I was all smiles behind the muzzle of my hood, my heart adorned with wings. I’d say I was walking funny today, but I’m a disabled dog so I’m always walking funny, so I was walking hilariously today, brimming with joy from bruises where my thighs pressed into the table, and a delightful sting where my handler’s fangs sunk into my shoulder.

Trauma doesn’t have to prevail in the form of eternal nightmares. True care can heal the deepest wounds as long as the will to heal is there, and the pursuit of joy is at the center of the heart. This dog has found healing in the hands of her shepherd of laughter; a twisted, but saintly Clown, Pepper LaFaye.

Dear curious reader,

Before you read my review, I implore you to please read “The Sinner’s Lament”, penned by Pepper theirself.

All done? Allow me a brief introduction. Before I found Pepper, I was lost. I was a stray, physically disabled, queer, and very nerdy mutt cooped up in Seattle after a lifetime of hardship and abuse. The only semblance of purpose I had to cling to was a vague notion of wanting to help build community, and mild career success.

I had already been through professional therapy, yet I was addicted to substance, I spent days in bed, I was letting my conditions eat me alive. 

To get to know Pepper is to truly let yourself be known, heard, seen, and understood in turn. 

Pepper has truthfully helped me save myself, and their care has forever changed me into someone I am proud to be; braver, stronger, extroverted, and much, much kinkier. 

Through true submission to their power and guidance, I have learned to love myself, and have learned more about my potential than I thought possible.

In the approximately six months I have been under Pepper’s care, I have fulfilled dreams and dared to accomplish things I was simply too meek, doubtful of myself, and afraid to do before, including but not limited to:

-First official pet play session.

-Participated in and won my first kink fashion performance show.

-Starred in a music video 

-Had my first real prom dance with Pepper. 

-Performed a strip tease, got pegged, spit roasted and pissed on immediately after said prom dance. 

-Cooked my first full course meal for someone. 

-Attended pole classes

-Moshed and Crowd Surfed for the first time 

-Made local friends city wide

-Gained recognition and praise at my corporate job for attitude and leadership. 

–And much more. 

Pepper may be an absolute spitfire and a laughing riot– believe me, I’ve hardly grinned and laughed as heartily as when I’m in the grace of their company, or taking their strap; but as someone with CPTSD who is a victim of domestic and sexual abuse, I have never felt safer or more cared for in my life than when their razor sharp gaze cuts through the veil of my trauma and sees me for who and what I am. 

I have now proven so many doubters in my life wrong. In my corner of the ring, Pepper’s smooth yet scorching voice in my ear makes me melt before I compose myself, having the world’s most benevolent and beautiful clown God coaching me through my next big goal.

Now, if you’re not looking to put your life in some hilarious hands, I get it, and there’s still a-plenty of fun to be had for hours, having your most perverted dreams come true in Pepper’s spicy dungeon.

But, curious reader…..

You can discover your best self too, under their big, twisted tent. All you have to do is take a chance on fate, and believe in the magic of Pepper’s Circus. 

In the Pet Play community, it’s a common sentiment and joking point that when the leash and collar comes out, the mind goes blank. “Head empty, no thoughts, only Puppy”–or similar captions are often proudly emblazoned upon various pictures and clips spread across many social media platforms. It’s a point of vulnerability, to give up control, to lend one’s physical will to their handler. To be something nearing helpless.

For this working dog, personally, in the hands of Pepper, I feel my experience may differ from most. To give any curious readers a glance at the cards I’ve been dealt; I was born with cerebral palsy, asthma, scoliosis, and sparing harsh details– I am a victim of pervasive domestic abuse. The sum of all this means I have spent the majority of my life being doubted by society, family, and partners. “Helpless” was a label forced upon me.

In the months I have been under Pepper’s care, they have enforced a healthier perception of my own capabilities, both physical and mental, and my potential to achieve success in a plethora of ways. Pepper’s circus of care is one of vigor and calculated, clever planning. 

In my first Pet Play session with Pepper, rather than being “reduced” to a dog, Pepper had me play fetch while keeping note of how I navigated stairs (with too much effort). Once I had officially donned a chain leash for the first time, next thing I knew I was doing pull ups off of a steel girder as my new handler encouraged me with gusto. 

My rehabilitation under Pepper led to collared walks in the park where I practiced navigating stairs with less aid. With time and dedication, I could walk up and down stairs without any support, and what’s more, while carrying items for my handler and others in tandem. For me, this was a very large milestone, as I had never been able to walk down stairs without a rail or helping hand prior to meeting Pepper. 

Fast forward three months, and while on leash at a local bar, I’m tested at random simply by being led perpendicularly over the curb of a ramp without pause before proceeding up and to the doorway; an amused “Good Job, Puppy” from Pepper denoted my success in a small moment, encapsulating our dynamic. 

To be collared on Pepper’s lead is to be encouraged, to be believed in, as much as it is to be vulnerable. I feel there’s something poetic in having a direct link between the point where my blood runs so preciously, to the hands of the individual guiding me in actualization while testing my mettle. 

Rather than letting reality slip away as the carbineer clasps over the D-ring at my neck, my reality sharpens, my attention arranges out of the haze of ADHD and into focus, and I feel alive, ready for whatever task Pepper puts me to. There is so much more than “Puppy” in my headspace. There is me, a working dog, my handler, my goals, their goals, and whatever adventure or job I’ve gotten involved in. 

On Pepper’s lead, I walk a path towards triumph, wagging all the while.

Submission, something often misconstrued as leading to weakness or to become powerless in a true D/S relationship. On the contrary, in addition to being competent and capable, the most dedicated of submissives should strive to exhibit the following behaviors in their service, in no particular order:

1. RESPECT YOUR DOM’S TIME AND SPACE:
   
   Common courtesy shouldn’t be difficult. Your Dom has a life, people to see, money to make. If you have the privilege of messaging them directly, understand they likely can’t respond immediately, and in the same vein, don’t expect them to drop everything to make a last minute session with you. If you’re in such high graces with your Dom that they DO make exceptions for you, compensate them accordingly; gifts, money, worship. 

2. COMMUNICATE RESPECTFULLY:
   
   Language is a spectrum, and communication is one of the largest pillars of any interpersonal relationship, but paramount in the context of BDSM. Whether in session, or in the day to day, address and speak to your Dom with utmost respect. Use their honorific, pronouns, say please, thank you, text in full sentences and employ your best vocabulary. Don’t be rude or flippant, and don’t be horny 24/7, act with maturity.
   
   If you’re lucky enough to warrant notifications in their phone, be thorough in a message, rather than shotgunning 15 separate texts to get a simple point across.

3. SHOW YOUR APPRECIATION:
   
   As a submissive, you are receiving special attention built upon a variety of honed skill sets pertaining to emotional intelligence, communication, psychology, sexual anatomy, and *safety*. Sure, you’re being dominated. LUCKY YOU!! 
   
   Give gifts, entertain their interests, worship them with sincerity. Show them gratitude for enriching your life with their presence. 

4. LISTEN TO DIRECTIONS AND ADVICE:
   
   If your Dom is generous enough to provide advice on a particular aspect of your life and behaviors, know they likely have your best interests in mind. Don’t accept things blindly, but consider their words in relation to yourself. Pay attention to wisdom shared, and act upon suggested solutions if practical. 

5. BUDGET YOUR FINANCES RESPONSIBLY:
   
   Being under the care and service of a professional Dom is a luxury. It is not a necessity for life, even though it sure may feel like it at the peaks of twisted euphoria. Budget your expenses and gifts within your means. If you’re not making six figures and you really want to dedicate yourself, get a second source of income. 

6. BE HONEST:
   
   Be truthful and sincere in your submission. Don’t just say things that your Dom wants to hear. Submission is about sincere behavior, not just verbal pleasantries and dungeon sessions. Be real to yourself and your Dom, and I guarantee you’ll get a lot more out of the dynamic. 

7. BE EAGER
   
   Unless your dynamic is explicitly rooted in a stew of constant masochistic despair, get excited about the freaky stuff you’re asking to do or have done to you. Don’t be beige, shine your best colors. 

Both a nightmare and a dream.
To my anxiety babies out there, oh loves do I see you. Since my youth I had bit my nails as a habit, along with an assortment of other destructive little tendencies that harmed me. My nails had never gotten very long and I had kicked all my other behaviors I decided didn’t serve me. It was time for a change.

Yay nails! But!

Jesus fucking Christ this change is a pain. Although I no longer scratch my coochie too hard and give my clit a fright, typing without error continues to elude me. I haven’t added the most recent reviews I’ve gotten yet and it’s been months since I have written a blog update. FOR SHAME!

Anyways I’m working on it. We’re developing new typing postures. We’re practicing with enunciation for voice-to-text so he doesn’t botch the whole damn piece of writing. We’re considering enlisting some of you favored subbies as scribes.

Not going to lie I am enticed by the opportunity to creatively occupy you with precarious torture contraptions while you endeavor to faithfully transcribe my words to the World Wide Web.

Ok cramp, done for now.

xoxo

Pepper

A big thank you to My IT bestie who tore out the malfunctioning bits and replaced them with working bits.

Also thank you to all the darling individuals who reached out to Me about the issues they were experiencing. You horny helpers impressed Me greatly and I am so excited to meet you all in the flesh.

I often ponder the human condition, and the percentage of perverts who look for vulnerability vs the percentage of perverts who want a performance of personality. 

I know myself to not appeal to the later. I wonder if the average kinkster is looking to disconnect from reality fully. I think I am far too aware of it to play at apathy or ignorance. 

I also build a better pocket of heavenly bliss when I have a foundation of trust with my sub on our mutual understanding of reality. To be frank: the world is bad right now. Terrible things are happening. If you can’t say that and feel the weight of it on your heart, I don’t know if you can feel the full depth of the euphoria I offer. There is something in such a vulnerability that saturates you. 

I think the regular person is looking to distract from the pain, not lean into the humanity it offers you. 

I hope those who want to feel deeply and discover what that offers can find me. 🙂