Bali-Hippie Breathwork Stuff

This blog entry is dedicated to the ‘breathwork’ that I did at the hippie retreat in Ubud, Bali.

Wikipedia explanation: Breathwork refers to many forms of conscious alteration of breathing, such as connecting the inhale and exhale, or energetically charging and discharging, when used within psychotherapy or meditation. Proponents believe breathwork technique may be used to attain alternate states of consciousness, and that sustained practice of techniques may result in spiritual or psychological benefits. Breathwork may also relate to optimal healthy breathing in a healing context.”

More info:

Where I stand on new age hippie stuff is basically where I stand with ghosts and aliens. I don’t believe or disbelieve, I am somewhat skeptical but accept that there is a lot in this world that I don’t understand.

The first guided breathwork session was a group activity. I went into it with no information at all (even less info than you have now after reading the above description). There was about fifteen women and two guys, the guide and a handful of ‘angels’ to help us. We started out all dancing around together to ‘warm up’. I hated this. It felt awkward and stupid. I wanted to leave. Next we randomly chose a partner and sat down for an uncomfortable exercise where one person talked for three minutes while the other listened and then we switched. All sentences were supposed to start with “What I really want…” I had to start and I said: “What I really want is to understand what the fuck is happening here.” then “What I really want is to not have to talk right now.” The other girl looked at me compassionately as we sat in silence until it was her turn, then she talked for three minutes about how she just wanted to feel ok, etc. and she cried. It sounded like there was a lot of sniffling going on from other people too so clearly I missed the point of this exercise. I think we were supposed to be setting an intention or something. I really enjoyed listening to her without obligation to engage or respond. Without having to think of something comforting to say. I could just listen and squeeze her hand while feeling like I was in some way helping her by listening to her personal stuff.

We then all laid on the floor and started the hour-long breathing exercise which involved a ‘circular’ breath. In and out steady and slowly without any pause in between. It’s sort of like hyperventilating and the physical effects are similar: light headed, tingling hands, etc.¬† I suppose it’s a cousin to meditation or a distant cousin to dropping acid. Each person’s experience is unique. I heard a lot of crying around me so I guess for some it was healing or helped them work through stuff. Some people realize certain truths about themselves or have some kind of personal growth or become more personally aware. Many enthusiastically claim it is transformative or at the very least: an intense experience.

There was also some meditative style music playing with voice affirmations or something. At the point where a soothing, Goddess-like voice cooed: “Everyone wants love and joy” I had a flash realization that I do what I do (make porn) because I want to be loved by the men who jerk off to me. I realized that my fans, as a group, make up the equivalent to one partner I’m in a relationship with. I’ve often said that I’m married to my business and it would be difficult for most men to date me while I do what I do because my fans get so much of my intimate sexual energy. It IS a relationship. It’s give and take. My fans send me fan mail (the equivalent to a husband telling his wife she’s beautiful, cherished and appreciated) and they give me money & gifts which is an effective way to measure how much I’m loved and appreciated. I give my fans orgasms, joy and entertainment. I help reduce stress. I offer acceptance of their niche fetishes.

It wasn’t the most profound experience in the world but I managed to have a little cry at the end anyway. I wasn’t crying for any particular reason but a lot of people were crying and I suppose it’s like when one person starts throwing up and then everyone starts throwing up. Laughter, crying, puking, yawning…it’s all kind of contagious.

Afterward when everyone was laying in a cuddle puddle and sharing their experiences I really felt like I missed the boat. It seemed a lot more ‘transformative’ for everyone else. I wondered if I was ‘broken’, or blocked from achieving certain levels of emotions or whatever. Maybe I just didn’t have shit to work through?

When I had an opportunity to do it again a couple days later in private, with just the guide and my two friends I was excited to give it another go. I promised myself to really put my all into getting as much from the experience as possible. ‘When in Rome!”

This time I had some one-on-one time with the guide before we got started. We talked about what I was hoping to get from the experience, if there was anything I needed to work through, etc. I didn’t know what to say. Everything is pretty awesome in my life. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. She assured me that over-achieving, satisfied people got value from breathwork too.

During the exercise I was open to having a cry but instead I felt this powerful force inside of me, radiating from me and growing…coming from my lower torso area…I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, that I had huge powerful wings like a phoenix, I was strong and fearless. I heard the guides voice saying that I was breathing beautifully. I felt like I was fanning the flames of a fire with the air coming in and out of my stomach. I felt like I could levitate and fly. I felt invincible. As I breathed and pumped my stomach and apparently (I was told after) my pelvis was also pumping up & down the guide said I was radiating incredible sexual energy. She seemed rather ‘wowed’ by it.

When the exercise was finished and we were normalizing our breathing I really had to pee (this also happened the first time) but this time I was so lightheaded I had to crawl to the bathroom & pull myself up onto the toilet. So much for flying, I couldn’t even stand up! As I did the first time I peed and peed for a very long time, a lot of fluid. I’ve experienced this a little with lymphatic drainage massage where your body kind of releases toxins and cleanses through a larger than usual quantity of urine. I thought that was an interesting physical response to the exercise.

I felt a little emotional after but the feeling of power still radiated. That feeling of strength and fire. I can still feel it actually, just thinking back. That power pulsing from my lower torso and a feeling like I have massive wings.

The images below are of me at the retreat that week, where we stayed, the rice paddy fields surrounding us, a fire purification ceremony I participated in (by throwing symbolic things into the fire while thinking about stuff I need to let go of and of things in life I want) and a water temple purification thing I did where I also made ‘wishes’ or set intentions as I got cleansed with holy water.


Don't jump, you don't really have wings!

Better than wings, I've got boobs!

It would be pretty bad-ass to have wings like Garuda though...

Just out of view: power-pulsating-pussy. You've been warned.


I got a kick out of wearing my gun shirt at the hippie retreat...*smile*

I'm a little bit pyro so I didn't mind the mega-hippie-dippy fire purification ceremony so much.

Before the water purification...(do I look dirty?)

During water purification...this better be some powerful holy water...

After water purification: Do I look pure now? *batting eyelashes*


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Free spirit

Shortly after San Fran & things ending with the judgmental boyfriend another life-changing event happened.

At that time I was proud of myself for landing a prestigious outside sales job. I had purposefully only taken inside sales jobs for years, doing my thing on the phone so that no one could say that I got by on my looks. Having had a lot of success just using my brain & my voice I decided it was time to use the rest of my assets. I leased a brand new car. I wore business suits. I took pics of myself in my business suit next to my brand new car and sent them to my Mother. I wanted her to be proud of me.

Friends took me to Wreck beach one day. It was a clothing optional beach and I had no problem gearing right down. It felt amazing to be nude outside, with the ocean breeze caressing my skin. A cute, blond surfer boy came along selling drinks. There was just something about him. His tanned skin, his disheveled sun bleached hair, his sparkling blue eyes and relaxed manner. I had to get to know him better.

I came back to the beach and pursued him. We had a hot fling and as I got to know him I was fascinated with his free spirit way of living. Early 30’s, hanging out at the beach making a simple living, partying a lot, traveling to exotic places in the winter for months at a time…he was the happiest person I ever met and it came through in the way he fucked. So present in the moment. So passionate.

He encouraged me to come down to the beach after work and sell tequila shooters at sunset for fun and extra cash. It seemed to be a crazy idea, selling tequila shooters nude, on a nude beach? Crazy was just what I needed. That summer there was a song that kept playing on the radio with a line that haunted me, “I think my life is passing me by…” Here’s a link to the vid/song:

Summer was coming to an end and all I would have was a job that I actually hated. A job I was doing because I thought it would make my Mother proud. Even though, bless her, she always just said she wanted me to be happy. She also said that I was too entrepreneurial to ever be satisfied working for someone else.

I decided that I would go to India. I didn’t have much money saved but I would have just charged it on my credit card. A girlfriend invited me to go to Japan with her to make quick cash hostessing with her for a few months. She had done it before. It was long hours but easy, just pouring drinks, singing karaoke and making conversation. No sex, no stripping, no funny business. That was all true except it wasn’t easy. At least not for me. I felt like a slave. Management was very strict. It was a hard 3 months but it was an adventure and then I went to Thailand for a month and India for 2 months. Alone!

I could expand on what happened in those 6 months of travel. I have a lot of stories. But this isn’t a travel blog and I have a feeling that my readers are more interested in hearing how all this contributed to me becoming ‘Mistress T’. It started with meeting that beach boy who taught me that there are other ways to make a living and better ways to live your life other than just climbing the corporate ladder and conforming to other people’s rules. He taught me that it’s important to be true to yourself and to not care what people thought. Making a major life shift doesn’t happen over night. I rebounded back into the corporate world a couple more times before I left it for good. That beach boy has always been in my life, still is, to remind me to be true to myself.

The summer I returned from India was the best summer of my life. I sold tequila shooters every day at the beach. I partied a lot. I had 3 wonderful lovers on rotation. I slept with who I wanted when I wanted and there was no drama. I started attending fetish parties in Vancouver. I began to move in the direction of incorporating my sexual kinky side with my entrepreneurial side. I started to get braver, more confident, more self aware. A fire had been lite and it started to burn hotter, pushing me in the direction of becoming ‘Mistress T’.

MistressT beach bum

Mistress T: Beach Bum

Young & dumb in the BIG city

Shortly after arriving in Vancouver I ‘landed’ what I thought was a good job working in a call center. I had had several sales jobs at that point and I was pretty good. I was aggressive and competitive.

My life story is full of important meetings and it never ceases to amaze me how meeting one person can change so much so quickly.

One day as I was coming into the building with my hands full a man held the door for me…then as we waited for the elevator he overheard me telling a coworker that I had just moved from Nova Scotia. In the elevator he gave me his card and offered to help me in this new city. I thought he was cute so I called and we went for lunch. He immediately started talking about his wife & kids which of course freaked me out since I had just had my heart broken by a married man.

He was all business, explaining that he had a lot of contacts and wanted to help me find better employment. I avoided him for weeks but he was persistent and finally he didn’t pussy foot around, told me that working in a call center was a dead end job & he was offering me a real opportunity. A reception position in a big, growing company that would pay 70% of the cost of night classes to do whatever I wanted. He told me I would be a fool to turn it down. He said that he could see potential in me and he didn’t want to see it wasted. I still suspected he wanted to get into my pants but I went for it anyway.

We remained friends for years and he was never inappropriate with me. He always just helped me with my career. 10 years later I ran into his best friend and in an intoxicated ramble he told me that I was blind to not see how much his friend has always been in love with me but would never cheat on his wife…that all of it, the jobs, the help, was just to keep me close to him. I was shocked.

The job, by the way, took me on a path that wasn’t right for me but I tried. I tried to be a good girl. I went to night school for sales, marketing and public relations while working in a big, conservative office by day. I went from reception to marketing and then moved around to a few other companies in sales. I always did very well, but I always hated it. I felt like I was doing what my parents would want me to do. I was climbing the corporate ladder.

Being very untrue to myself I also found myself in a relationship with a very nice man who wanted to marry me and start a family. We had picked out the engagement ring when out of the blue, the married guy who broke my heart called. He tracked me down. He was coming to Vancouver on business and wanted to go for dinner. I went and it was only dinner, although it was difficult to not go back to his hotel room. I still felt the same and so did he. It was gut-wrenching. He was very unhappily married but would stay for the child.

Two weeks later I had moved out on my own and ended the relationship with the nice guy. I didn’t love him the way he deserved to be loved.

MistressT corporate business woman

Corporate Whore, selling my soul.

Why I really moved to Vancouver…

When asked why I moved to Vancouver I often say ‘weather & economy’ but the real reason is that I fell in love with a married man. Here’s the story:


I was 20. He was 10 years older and the owner of the company I worked for. He was married with a 2 year old. After a drunken office party fling that should have ended there we became more involved. We had a month together right away as his wife and child were out of town. We fell in love. He filed for divorce and moved out. Then flip flopped for 10 months until he finally decided (and rightly so) that his child was more important…you see his wife took the child far away and wouldn’t come back unless they reconciled.

I moved away to give him space to do the right thing. I wasn’t about to be his long term mistress and that’s exactly what would have happened if I stayed. The attraction was so great we simply could not stay away from each other.

It was the hardest thing that I had ever gone through…and 15 years later I can tell you it’s still the hardest thing I’ve gone through. Heart break. Losing the person I felt such a special connection to. Anyone who has had their heart broken understands how intense this type of pain can be. There’s certainly been enough songs and poems written about heart break. We all recognize that this pain can be even worse than having a loved one pass away.

So, with a freshly broken heart I packed up what little I had and with $1000 in the bank I moved to Vancouver just before my 21st birthday. I stayed with distant family that I didn’t really know for the 1st two months while I got settled.

Every cloud has a silver lining though. Moving to Vancouver was one of the smartest things I’ve ever done. Also, the married guy convinced me of something important: that I could do ANYTHING I chose to do. He saw potential in me and lit a fire that has never gone out. There are few things as powerful in this life as making yourself completely vulnerable to someone, exposing yourself, giving yourself over to someone and THEN to have that person tell you that you are more wonderful than you ever imagined.

Without that I’m not sure that I would have done all that I have with my life. It drove me to reach higher, to try harder and to believe in myself. Other than luck, reaching higher, trying harder and believing in yourself is pretty much all that separates the successful from the unsuccessful, in my humble opinion.

MistressT FemDom Fetish Goddess Rooftop Vancouver Canada

On top of the world in Vancouver

Let’s get a little dirtier

I realize that many reading this would rather read the smut than my la-la childhood memories…so here’s some sexier stuff (maybe?).


Would you like to know how I lost my virginity? Sure ya would.


Remember that I come from a small rural place where teens drink & have sex to combat boredom. I had always been a good kid and my parents were preoccupied with their crumbling relationship so I had a lot of freedom. In fact, by 15 I was rarely home. I drank and partied, crashing at friends places or simply staying out all night.


I met a boy named Todd who I thought was cute. We had a lot of mutual friends and the more time we spent together the more attracted I became to him. I had sort of kissed boys before and I had been masturbating for a couple of years but I was still very much discovering my sexuality (still am!). The first time he kissed me a rush of pleasure washed over me head-to-toe with such force I thought I would melt or catch on fire…or both. He lowered me down on the floor and pressed himself against me and I could feel his hardness through our cloths. It was the first time I felt truly and intensely turned on. That was it, it was brief but it seriously messed with my head and I laid in bed all that night soaked, touching myself, wide awake and hungry for more.


In the coming weeks we had an opportunity to be alone for a few hours in a friends camper and we had oral sex. It was my first time and I loved it. He licked my pussy and I ‘went down’ on him. We ‘made out’ and it was soooo hot & exciting. I was hooked. Even though we didn’t have intercourse I consider that to be when I lost my virginity because it was so much more significant than the event where I actually had intercourse with my boyfriend later on.


Funny thing about Todd…I ran into him 15 years later. He had had a rough life. We spent hours catching up over drinks and then we went back to his place. We spent the night together but there wasn’t really much in the way of sex. He wanted to hold me and look at me, that’s pretty much what he did for hours…just telling me how beautiful I am.


MistressT Fetish Goddess

Looking back...