From Good Christian Girl to Dark Femme Professional Dominatrix: My Unholy Awakening

There was a time when I was the good girl—the obedient daughter, the devoted churchgoer, the girl who bowed her head and folded her hands just right when she prayed. I wore my purity like a badge of honor, convinced that being “good” meant being worthy. That submission was sacred. That obedience would bring me closer to divinity.

But something inside me always ached.

A restlessness I couldn’t name. A hunger I didn’t yet understand.

They told me to be soft, so I became steel wrapped in silk. They told me to be pure, so I learned to hide my darkness beneath a perfect smile. They told me to wait for love, so I fantasized about power instead.

And then—one day—I stopped listening.

The Unraveling

Leaving behind the “good Christian girl” identity wasn’t an overnight rebellion. It was a slow-burning unraveling, like a corset being loosened thread by thread, breath by breath.

The first threads snapped when I started questioning. Why does holiness always demand my silence? Why does righteousness feel like a cage? Why does salvation come at the cost of my own desires?

The more I questioned, the more the cracks formed. And through those cracks, something far older and wilder began to seep in.

I stopped praying for forgiveness and started craving freedom.

I stopped fearing sin and started worshiping pleasure.

I stopped looking for God in the sky and started finding divinity in my own reflection.

The Dark Femme Awakening

Becoming my dark femme self wasn’t about destruction—it was about creation. It was about unearthing the parts of myself I had buried in shame, dusting them off, and adorning them like jewels.

My time as an Ambassador at Walter Where?House sparked something new in me, a burning desire to be on display, to perform for the adoring horde. It set my soul on fire being on stage... I knew I had to have more.

And so I walked my path to become a professional dominatrix...

I stepped into my sensuality without apology.

I reclaimed my power with a whip in one hand and a man on his knees before me.

I discovered that my body was not a temple to be preserved, but an altar to be worshiped.

I let my shadows out to dance, and they whispered secrets to me—secrets of seduction, of magic, of untamed feminine force. They taught me that divinity was never about denial. It was about mastery.

I became the high priestess of my own temple, the goddess of my own myth, the seductress of my own damnation and salvation.

And let me tell you—nothing has ever felt holier.

The Woman I Am Now

Now, I walk through the world as my fullest, most untamed self. I do not bow. I do not shrink. I do not ask permission to exist in my power.

The “good Christian girl” in me did not die. She transformed. She shed her modesty like dead skin and emerged as something divine, something feral, something wholly mine.

I am the embodiment of the dark femme.

I am the storm and the calm. The temptation and the reckoning. The dream and the nightmare.

And I will never be good again.

XOXO,

Your Mistress Stassi