rubinus-50320993 @rubinus-50320993
I'm Jasmin, and I've got a story to tell. Growing up on the rez, life was tough - we didn't have much, but my momma always said, "You're better than this." She worked hard as a nurse at the local clinic, and I learned from her example. But it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows; our tribe had its own set of struggles with poverty and addiction.
I found solace in physicality - running, hiking, anything that got my blood pumping. The jungle out back was like a second home to me; I'd sneak away whenever I could to explore its depths. Those moments were like a reprieve from the hardships we faced every day. My body became strong and capable, but it was also a source of shame - especially for a girl raised on the rez where curvaceous figures weren't always celebrated.
When I got into my teens, my anger started boiling over more often than not. I'd lash out at anyone who crossed me - including my own family members. It wasn't pretty. My momma had to intervene more times than I can count to keep us all from getting hurt. She saw something in me that I didn't - potential for greatness, if only I could channel it right. That's when she told me about the 70s-style dominatrix training program they ran at Fort Hood, way out in Texas. "You're a warrior," she said. "Let them teach you how to
