Pulled Like The Tide-A Servants Moon Induction

Cold hearted orb, that rules the night, leeches my lusts, feeding my Goddess, her hunger relentless.

By day only the memory of it looms over me. My body aching from the sheer draining of all my will and sanity that I suffered the night before. I have been blessed, blessed with a curse … driven mad by my inability to escape her gravity.

And so here it is again. Night. No longer able to sleep, for its presence in the sky pulls me from my bed to the window to gaze upon It … It, her face, my Goddess’ face, there, overtaking the throne. For eons, The Old Man on the Moon watched over us. Like all men, he was seduced from his throne with just one look at female perfection masking perverse female power and authority. Imagine the gravity our Goddess must have, to suck the Old Man off the lip of the moon, pull him down to her pleasure Hell, make him her willing slave, and then mockingly take his place. Why can so few see her? Are they blind to her designs, or has she blinded all those until they are under her powers?

Jupiter speaks to me constantly, doing all he can to keep me from becoming yet another mind enslaved by the powers of moons. Jupiter knows all to well, with his many moons, the dangers of gazing upon a moon reigned over by a Goddess as talented and evil as Goddess Saphire. Once part of Earth, the Moon broke off when Earth was hit by an asteroid a kilometer wide …. Or so the Scientists want us to believe. Jupiter told me the truth, that the Moon was put there so that the forces of good could keep an eye on the minds of mankind. Under the watchful eyes of The Old Man On The Moon, we thrived. But woe are we now, for Goddess Saphire has taken over.

Ohhhhh, but can you not look at it? Can you not feel it, tracking your every move? Can you not obey its beckoning, the stirring of emotions, of love and lusts that the moon rightly commands upon men and women? I think not. For look at it now.

Afraid that one of my outbursts, my warnings to others, that madness befalls those who let the moon enslave their minds, would land me in a jail, I fled the city, night after night. Oh, it is not jail I fear, it is being stuck in a prison that does not allow me to serve my Goddess on the Moon that fills me with dread. To know she is in the sky, and demanding my worship, yet to be kept from it by bars and concrete – I would tear apart my eyes in misery knowing they cannot gaze upon her power and perfection.


So now the moon rises, like an empty spot light on the waters of this lake. How devious, that she controls my mind and fills it with the command to view her rise over this lake. For now I see two of her, mocking me in her reflection, doubling her powers over me. I want to scream to the world, “BEWARE, FOR SHE RISES!” But I only want her to get more powerful. My only chance is if this madness becomes complete, and I can no longer debate if this is doom or salvation for me, for us all.

You have felt her, I know you have. On those nights … when the moon is full … you gaze upon it, sensing a magnificence. But, you have not surrendered yet, your eyes cannot see her wicked smile like I can. Yet, you are in awe of the moon, and know not why. It is her. You are in awe of HER. Only when you turn your back does she openly stalk you. Gazing do intensely, it penetrates your soul. She reads your mind. She finds ways into it. She wipes clean your defenses – here, there, little places at first. Oh yes, I felt it. Like you felt it. The moon seems to follow you, doesn’t it? That is not an illusion. She is pulling you, pulling your soul, yet, with no point of reference, because your soul has never been stolen or seduced before, you do not realize she is sucking you in, too. She is sucking in your soul, and once she has you, she will not stop until it is up there, held in her prison of a moon. Heartless, merciless … it starts with a profound adoration, worship of the moon, and it feels so natural. I surely did not find any alarm in it. I kept gazing. I felt alone, yet like I belonged to something.

Then I received a gift. A recording. A voice. A voice speaking an induction. An induction called The Moon Induction. How pleasant, how harmless, how seductive. All my life, I had overlooked the moon. Now, it fills my mind as much as any grey brain matter. Densely. Every pocket filled with HER. The lack of sleep … oh, how I wish I could close my eyes and not suddenly awaken with a commanding need to gaze upon the moon. On cloudy nights, no moon nights, I am screaming with need to look upon her face again, upon her cruelty.

Ahhhh, but yes, the rewards, the pleasures, of being driven mad with erotic awe. Oh, but I cannot tell you that, or she shall stab me blind with meteor dust, my life an agony of never being able to see her again, on the moon, on her throne.

Separated from my computer, any second away, I crave to listen to her Moon Induction again. Yes, it is madness to be mad and want more madness. To be mad and terrified of the level of erotic addiction and craving, terrified I cannot see the moon and feed my need. Once fed, I am overwhelmed with a desire to serve her. She is always watching, always looming overhead, vulture that she is for souls. But so wicked, so beautiful, so rewarding.

Oh now she has risen, and I have risen, the cock she commands has risen, pointing to her, shooting stars in her direction as I am driven mad with pleasure, the reward she gives me for losing my mind to her, there, on the Moon, in total control. Total control.