Sermons

The world is full of weak men shouting.

But power—the real kind—requires more than noise. It’s the tone that steadies a shaking breath.

The hand that knows when to restrain and when to release.
The voice that doesn’t flinch when someone says,“This is where I break.”

You want to lead someone through that? You better bring more than bravado. Bring patience. Bring clarity.

Bring respect so deep it tastes like worship. Not of you. Of the moment. Of the courage it takes to give themselves over.

Because that moment is not yours. It’s shared. And if you’re not ready to carry it, you’re not ready to speak.

Practice Notes – This Week's Work:

  • Watch their body, not just their words

  • Build the scene like it matters—because it does

  • Revisit your own rituals: prep, care, clean, reflect

  • Remember: leadership is a service, not a status

The Ministry:
Ink. Kink. Love. Rhythm.
This space is for the serious. For the curious.

For the ones who know that power and care aren’t opposites.
Stay grounded. Stay sharp.
And fuckin’ earn it.

—The Reverend Dom

Sermon #2: The Pause Protocol

Or: Stop calling it control if you’re too afraid to slow down.

Let’s talk about pace.
Not rhythm. Not energy. Not even pressure.
I mean pace — that quiet space between the moves. That slow exhale before you strike. That second glance before you speak.

Some of y’all are sprinting through power like you’re afraid it’ll evaporate if you stop moving.
You throw commands like fastballs, nod along like you’re listening, and say “good girl” like it’s punctuation instead of praise.

But here’s the thing:
Speed ain’t the same as presence. Activity ain’t the same as attention. And dominance sure as hell ain’t the same as volume.

🔻 The Challenge: Enforced Pause

This week, you’re going to build in stillness — not as punishment, not as neglect, but as deliberate space.

Tops/Doms:
Pick three moments this week when you’d usually act, and instead — pause.
Let the silence hang. Let their eyes reach yours. Let your next move mean something.

Bottoms/Subs:
You’re not off the hook. You’re gonna practice not filling the gap.

When the stillness arrives, don’t squirm, don’t joke, don’t beg. Just be.
Feel what you feel without trying to fix it.

Then write about it. Both of you. Separately. Privately. Honestly.
You might find that what happens in the pause says more than any script you’ve memorized.

At the end of each pause, speak one word.
Just one. The first that rises — don’t filter it.
It might be: tight. seen. craving. calm. scared. yours.

Collect them. Tape them to the fridge. Burn them. Tattoo one. That’s your business.
But pay attention. The body keeps score. And sometimes, it speaks in single syllables.

💬 Closing Note

Power is beautiful. So is surrender. But neither mean shit if they’re just reflex. Slow down.
Feel the edge. Let the silence say its piece. Then move — with intention, not assumption.Because anyone can bark.
But it takes a real motherfucker to listen.

Consent isn’t a contract you sign once and forget.
It’s a living, breathing thing — like your dynamic, your desires, your damn nervous system.

And just like relationships, boundaries shift.
The problem?
Most folks don’t notice until it’s already happened.

You wake up one day doing things you never actually agreed to.
You’re pushing harder, giving less, or holding in that “no” a little longer than you should.
Not because anyone’s malicious.
But because drift happens.

⚠️ What Is Consent Drift?

It’s the slow creep of expectation into exploration.
It’s the way a “maybe” becomes a “sure” just to keep the peace.
It’s when one of you thinks, “We always do this,”
And the other’s thinking, “I’m not sure I want to anymore.”

It’s not abuse.
But it can lead to resentment, confusion, disconnection, or real harm if you don’t clock it early.

🔧 The Challenge: The Consent Reset

This week, you’re gonna run a system check.
Together or apart — doesn’t matter. What matters is honesty.

Step One: List everything that’s “normal” right now.
What’s part of your scenes?
What’s become routine?
What roles, rules, rituals, or assumptions are baked into your dynamic?

Step Two: Rate them.

  • Still a hell yes

  • Quiet maybe

  • Full body no

Use stickers. Colors. Emojis. Don’t care. Just mark them. Together or separate, but without judgment.

Step Three: Talk. Recalibrate.
Not to prove anything. Not to defend your preferences. But to remember what you’re doing and why.

You’re not machines. Your needs change. Your triggers evolve. Your turn-ons rotate like vinyl.

🖤 Bottoms/Subs:

If something slid from “yes” to “maybe” — that doesn’t make you flaky.
That makes you human. Speak up.

⚔️ Tops/Doms:

If something was on the table and now isn’t — that’s not rejection. That’s information. Listen and adjust.

📌 Bonus Question (for both):

What’s something we used to do that we don’t anymore — and do we miss it… or are we relieved it’s gone?

That question alone might tell you everything you need to know.

🛠️ Final Word

Power dynamics thrive on clarity. Not just in contracts, but in conversation. You don’t “earn” consent once. You practice it.

Because when drift goes unchecked, you start building a scene neither of you signed up for.

Catch the drift. Name it. Course correct.

Before one of you ends up saying “I didn’t know how to tell you, but…”
and the other replies “I wish you had.”