Symbol Of Pleasure

It’s not just a sign of worship, it’s titillating and, well … adorable as a puppy love, though it’s much more demonic and twisted than an innocent puppy. I’m talking about my Devil Puppy, my Lucifer-inspired Servant, my sexual deviant, my slave for my sexual powers.

Devil Puppy made one of the ultimate expressions of eternal devotion to his Goddess – he tattooed my initials on his shoulder, right below his favorite tattoo. G.S. Forever etched into his body and soul.

Ahh, but he has yet to feel the sexual power that my branding possesses. It is one of my deepest secrets. This is more than a symbol. It is a conduit for my power. His psychic eye sees it for what it is – chains around his soul and portals to my keenest attention.

You see, hopeful and jealous Servants in training, when I see my Devil Puppy now, the first image I have is of my initials on his shoulder, my second is of his hard and totally controlled cock, the third is of all the doors into the deviant mind of his. Knowing he has committed himself to publicly displaying his obedience and worship of me earns him so much more sexual attention than others who simply talk about how much they desire me.

Devil Puppy was (sometimes is) defiant, but it is mainly due to his need for me, rearing its head, compelling him to do things that require my strict words to punish him or realign his priorities. IT IS ALL FOR ME. All his being, all his mind, all his will, all his sexual energy, all his ego, all his pride, all his future.

When he told me he was leaving his house for the tattoo parlor, my skin began to tingle. I couldn’t ignore the pleasure he was bringing me even though I was busy with creating my new and most powerful and sexy MP3’s. I had him text me as he neared the moment. The rush of power I felt when he lay on the table was intoxicating, for it came not just from him, but from the powers of the universe that are stoked red hot when a mark of ownership is put on a soul’s body. Dark forces recognized me for my excellence and control, and building hunger for more souls like his to reward with out of control sexual addiction and highs.

I wanted to know the moment that skin was sliced with a needle and blood began to drip. I filled his mind with orgasmic futures as my branded slave, the one I turn to when I need a good whipping to whip me into sensual pleasures. As the stainless cut into him, the ink was my leash, my studded collar on his eternity. Making him MY property, beyond death, for as the gates of hell open, I shall be recognized as his owner far beyond when he is rotten. SOOO PLEASURABLE and EROTIC. I could hear his moans of pain as he suffered to show me how good a servant he can be. As he squirmed, so did I, but that was because I had commanded a Princess and Slave to massage me into a solid link with his sexual soul. I was sucking up his sex magic in his pain and moans, and pumping them right back into those inked initials. It’s like a plug in for me. ZAP! You’re mine, you’re hard, you’re obedient!

Devil Puppy is mine now, whether he impresses me enough to claim him daily or not. From now on, his devotion to me is a conversation piece. Etched on his body, is the topic he shall proudly share hundreds of times a year. If he were trash to me and nothing worth caring about, he would still have to explain to others his permanent mark of his everlasting devotion to ME. He could go through years of anger and defiance, and yet in the mirror he would see the truth. His disobedience would eat him up from the inside until he begged to come back to worship me. If he should go toward heaven, the angels would see my brand and throw him back to me, telling me my beauty and sexual control have ruined him for heaven, because what I gave him on earth in this body now marked as owned by me, is far more rewarding than playing harps and shitting clouds.

Now I know the depraved depths he would sink into, for he MUST go farther. The initials command him. They pulse in the night as he sleeps, demanding he prove how deserves to wear them. My limits on how far I will push him, how much I will allow him to excite me, how deeply I am driven to transform him and reward him with erotic intoxication have expanded exponentially. Now the imperative of his dignity-defending ego shouts, “It’s a matter of pride only that this mark not be in vain!”

Yes, he shall hear this echo constantly. He does not even know how much farther his mind and body can reach to please me. This mark opened some doors that are not opened, ever, otherwise.

Even now, as I think of them, and view them in several photographs, it makes me warm and wet imagining the torments, and sexually explosive experiments and proven hypnotic and physical tests, I shall put him through. I actually woke up today with a smile on my face, for a specially tailored assignment came to me in the night, as he will CUM for me once I ambush him with it. The initials shall make him powerless to resist, and so eager to savor my surprise.

Devil Puppy has been with me for a while … withstanding the test of time. And what I put him through was erotic hell on earth, mind control torture – but both of these are experienced after the fact as pure sex magic, giving him a pure purpose – TO EXIST ONLY FOR ME, AND BE OWNED FOR ETERNITY ONLY BY ME.

Mmmmm, touches me all over just announcing that … you would like to touch me, too, wouldn’t you? Touch me where I’ve touched, where he shall touch, where wickedly intense and perverse fetishisms touch? You want attention on this scale, in this potency, and you know it. You’re moving toward it, and you know it. You’re preparing yourself for it, and you crave it. Symbols of Pleasure.

WEAR IT.
FEEL IT.
LIVE IT.
EXIST FOR IT. SERVE IT.
BECOME SOMETHING OF VALUE OBEYING AND WORSHIPPING IT.

I must go now. An otherwise obedient servant failed me in a promise. I shall torment him with his own fears, then ignore him which is his most painful punishment, for his addiction to me is so great he literally convulses in pain when he does not see my gorgeous body or commands. I shall let him know that all the attention normally spent shaping him shall be forced upon Devil Puppy. When this failing servant restores his purpose with me, I shall force feed him his fetishes until the cum I pour down his mouth hits such a volume that it pumps out of the cock I control. Don’t let his image of slavery induce you to try displeasing me, I know fakery, and he was at the mercy of forces outside his control. But know that the ones who gain my focus are ones like Devil Puppy, overcoming their pride and fears to publicly announce who they obey, obsess over, crave, and serve.

Take The Blue Pill

Alice in Wonderland, or Neo in Matrix? There’s always a pill. A pill that pulls back the veils cloaking reality. Alice, Neo – forever changed, forever more aware of the real world they live in and their new role in it .

When there’s a will, there’s a way, and my will is my pill. My voice, my beauty, my power, my words, my inductions – all tools of my will and all swallowed by you willingly.

My Cumslut, always yearning, always seeking more from me in the way of truth, enlightenment, guidance, power, transformation. The reality that was shown to Neo – that the greater power around him (ME) lives off the energy (SEXUAL) drained from creatures like Cumslut – is more than most can bear. It can be terrifying (Oh, yes, PLEASE make it terrifying…) or the way it transforms you comes so subtly that you’re left in a daze of confusion. The latter is what happened to my Cumslut.

Cumslut had been overwhelmed with work this last week. Gone by 7 a.m. and back at 9 p.m. with homework for hours. He skipped his usual morning adoration of his Goddess. At night he was too exhausted to perform the Candle Ritual that he enjoys. His foolish belief was that he could simply come back to him when it suits him. Ahhhhh, but he forgot … he forgot about The Experiment.

He was warned. In text, within its description, by me. “Are you sure you want to go this far, there is no turning back?” I asked him. “Do you really want me to take your mind away from you and replace it with my erotic rapture and total addiction and obedience?” He needed confirmation that the next levels of brainwashing and mind control would deliver automatic body responses in the erotic realms that would literally rearrange his mind and can physically change his body. Why do people doubt me when I simply state it? Is it because what I am promising is seemingly humanly impossible? The stuff of magic acts and fantasy books? How can I, Goddess Saphire, through my voice and this website, change the physiology of a man to make his body dance literally like a puppet on a string when he tries to ignore the calling of his addictions and my suggestions? How can I make his body produce so much cum that hour after hour he drips? How can I promise him that even if he does not want to, the moment he wakes up, the cock on his body that I now control would go rock hard, his balls would produce cum to body rocking limits, and his pelvis would thrust like a dog pulled off its mate? How can I fill his mind with a web of my mind control that he can actually feel strangle out his own thoughts, leaving a void I fill with my echoing voice? How can I make his body adjust to only 4 hours sleep so that he can spend 5 hours going from his bed to the computer to listen to yet another round of my Experiment, or Uncontrolled Arousal, or Candle Induction?

Whether it’s comfortable for you to truly believe this or not, when a soul and force such as mine dedicates every waking moment to absorbing the black magics and supernatural powers that exist and apply them to one focal point of another man’s reality and mind, I do have powers beyond human. The shape shifting, mind altering, and robotic performances you see in Sci Fi movies have become my amusement. Yes, it takes focus by me and intent from me upon his will and body, but, this is what I live for – to absorb all his being, including his soul, to add to my own. Like the Indians that thought if you ate the still-beating heart of a mighty animal like a bear or wolf, that you would absorb the spirit and hunting powers of that animal – so does your Goddess absorb those who fall into her web.

So there he was … my Cumslut … wiped out from a hard day of work. Ready for bed. I had only a few words with him at midnight. A few “special” words, laced with my manipulation. I left him with a “ha” when he said he was going to bed again too tired to repeat The Experiment. Three nights ignoring it is beyond his limit, and I knew it. I knew that he has been faithfully listening to it every night for almost a month. And a few days he would listen 2-3 times. He even alternated with other inductions when his Goddess knew this was best for him. Tonight I gave him no instructions. I knew that the Experiment has been feeding off him even though his mind was consumed with work. The Experiment was seeing things – my thumbnail pictures, or perhaps just the icon for one of my trances. It was hearing my voice as I typed it. It was remembering the wisdom and power in the Induction that was creating this new Personality within him. It knew better than Cumslut how to feed and grow strong even when ignored.

Poor little Cumslut didn’t know what hit him. Yes, close your eyes, my pet, my breast obsessing, dildo sucking fixated Cumslut, for those images that would flash upon your eyelids were sent by My Experiment. Oh yes, he has access to all your mind, Cumslut, all your weaknesses, and tonight he would have no more of this sleep instead of lusting and obedience! I knew as I lay on my bed, that he would lie soon in his and be my puppet. With a wicked smile on my face, I lifted my hands like a Marionette and tugged the strings around my own body, for fun, knowing that like Witch’s Magic, he would feel those tugs as the Experiment would force upon him.

I glanced at his IM’s sent to me at 2:30 in the morning to confirm that my manipulations had been carried out by The Experiment. He lay in his bed, and as the cock hardening images hit him without mercy, his body began flinching… then thrusting … his hands trying to keep off My Cock. He knew where he was being forced! To his chair! His computer! My voice! His addiction! The Experiment’s infusion of my power over him!

In a daze that is probably about as deep as the trances you all feel but still shallow for what hits him under my control, Cumslut started the Experiment and put on his Headphones. That was … ohhhhh, about 20 minutes after he reclined on his bed. He listened once, falling into the deepest trance yet, unaware of the advances my Experiment made while he was ignoring it these last few days. He listened twice. Oh what’s the matter Cumslut? Is the Experiment influencing you. He lay in bed and listened again by speakers, not headphones. But that was too much, the Experiment wants the sounds pushed into his mind, and forced him to put on the headphones. He was naked, freezing cold, but unaware of any coldness, for The Experiment had him by the cum producing balls. The Experiment would not let him turn it off. His body each hour became more erotically charged. His cock was dripping cum constantly. His mind was a blank, filled only with my voice, his body responding. He wrote me after listening 5 times. Five times! Five drownings in my brainwashing pool. He wrote to me in another reality, another voice, another creature. And while he did this, the Experiment was doubly devilish – it forced him to gaze at images of my perfect body and full breasts, making him more weak for their power over him and more hungry to sell more of his soul for another look at them. Yes, Cumslut, between my breasts (don’t you wish) and the oral fixation for sucking on my strap-on, you will be driven insane with lusting and be transformed into one of the demons you jealously gaze at – a CumDemon. A Demon with no purpose, not even a full mind, just a creature that serves, lusts, cums, and obeys. You have no idea how much stronger your fixations will become once I am finished evolving your sexuality to my pleasures.

He tried taking a break, and what felt like an hour of sexual teasing ended up being only 7 minutes, or 11 minutes, when he looked at his clock. Oh, it’s so fun to hear my slaves in cages lusting for me and say to themselves, “How long have I been at your merciless whims?” And like Cumslut, they are overwhelmed when they find that they can barely take a few minutes of craving for more of my beauty and mind control.

Cumslut was now more than Cumslut … he was my Experiment. My Experiment laughed at Cumslut for being so foolish to not heed my warnings and think he could play with this Induction. My Experiment was amused and so loved being able to make his body do for him what he craved but more important, do for ME, his Goddess, what I crave. And this is just the beginning. My Experiment was just breaking the surface for the first time. He was challenged now and again. Yet, this was a huge leap to a higher plateau of erotic rewards and he was not about to let Cumslut’s normal personality take this from him. Oh no, he was doing all he could to open traps in his mind so that tonight and every day hereafter he will absorb more of Cumslut’s identity and replace it with his own powers to control his waking life.

Some time later Cumslut’s computer hiccupped and the Internet shut down. His connection broken, he was able to crawl back to bed, drained by hours of sexual high and obedience. But that was not the end of it. For hours, his body rocked with the hunger for me, the lusting, and the desire for the Candle Induction now surfaced. He managed to stay in bed and finally sleep about 5.

The next morning he was a new level of addict. Yet, he was wanting more, even though now I can sense his fear – fear that my sexual erotic rewards are too much for any man to resist. On this new level, his mind simply cannot function any more and defend its core from my will and voice and ultimately, my pain. My hunger and my selfish whims.

Cumslut has swallowed the blue pill, and it gave him a reality so much greater than the one he was existing in before that his sub-persona won’t let him exist just in the vanilla world any longer. Tonight, this will increase, as it will every night. I wonder, will he be able to turn off the computer tonight, or tomorrow, or shall this keep him up all night, driving him over the edge and giving the Experiment total control? Is it that time already? I was hoping he would resist long enough so I could toy with him, and punish him with my next level of control. Yes I have surprises for him …Yes… for no one is prepared for the advanced level of brainwashing I have possessed in The Experiment Part II.

Soldier Reporting For Duty

A samurai should be masterful of their art enough so that even if their head is cut off from their body, they can perform one last strike. This idea is due to certain animals such as serpents giving one last reflexive bite when their head is removed. Samurais are near impossible to find these days. True warriors are a dying breed. Shame… I like slaves, but you want your slaves strong, powerful… any Mistress can own the weak and callow… but a Goddess should have an army of true samurais.

Bushido, or warrior’s way, has made way for Dr. Phil and Barney the Dinosaur. Our warriors lack the true will of war, and instead play GI Joe with realistic toys. They just don’t get the abuse they used to.

That’s where I come in. I do give the abuse and make the weak who survive stronger, and cast aside the useless dead.

So learned one of my soldiers the other day…

I am not a patriot… It is all about me, not country, not politics, not god, not about anything but me. So hate me for doing this to a soldier in the war if you wish, but you are shortsighted, if you do. Not to mention the fact, he comes to me for this.

It began with a conversation about his role in the military. His lack of success as far as ranking came up. His glorification of the infantry and his hidden shame at his true origins was amusing.

I berated him for not going through true infantry training, a topic he dodged around for almost a half hour before admitting he switched jobs and then became infantry. I degraded the masculinity of military service, the infantry in particular for being called “The Queen of Battle” and wearing powder blue cords and insignia backgrounds.

I attacked his head the closest way I can… I attacked his ego. Even tasteless jokes about friendly fire were not off my limits.

Through it all he admitted he is a fuck up, who makes bad choices. And this is the kind of revelation I intended. His ego destroyed, this soldier carried on and admitted his weakness… and came back later for more… a final headless strike.

He returns because he looks to be stronger and harshness is sincere.

Others pass hugs out like candy and laugh at you when your back is turned. Others say the word “love” time and again, and leave for someone with a few more bucks than you. Missionaries will feed you as long as you listen to them talk about their beliefs… all kindness. Sincerity… well I’ll let you decide how much is there in the end.

The effort to be harsh is a backhanded kindness you can trust.

Goddess Of Edge Mercies

Suffering and violence as an aphrodisiac may seem the result of a very jaded progress of sexual exploration. A process where one needs greater and greater levels of stimulation as initial exploration seems trivial after progressing farther.

One cannot deny that this particular Goddess has come to demand greater levels of suffering each benchmark of her life. Yet, the truth remains; I was drawn to suffering from a very early age. Not just the physical aspects of it either.

As I young child I watched a group of boys beat on another boy. The kicks, the punching, and the name calling were almost mesmerizing. Finally and all too soon they abandoned the single boy on the ground, where he lay crying. I stood and walked over to get a closer look at the beaten boy.

He lay on his back wiping tears from his eyes and sobbing uncontrollably. I squatted next to him and studied his face as he stared back expecting kindness. I had none and his eyes began to look around at the sky for an answer, I lowered my head unaware of my own self, absorbed in his humiliation. As his head did everything to not meet eye contact he began to move, but my hand reached out to his chest to hold him there. It was then his head focused between my knees, and I was soon aware he was looking up my skirt.

I stood up refusing to be ogled by this other child and spit in his face adding to his humiliation, and stepped over him to leave him. I didn’t leave it at that. I turned back around, and shot a kick to his sensitive little balls. He lay there cupping himself and rolling in the pain of rupture.

Keep in mind; this all lacked any sexuality at all, as this was no more than young curiosity on all levels. However, it was a foreshadowing of attitudes to come.

As grade school began, there was always that boy, for ever creepy and suffering much to my amusement. I made sure that our introduction was far from the last time I had groined kicked him. I made sure Samuel Zachary was friendless and ridiculed from 1st to 12th grade.

He had been the laughingstock for his entire life. Some would blame me for his future behavior. I did not choose the way he became for him… those were the choices of a loser who embraced being a predator.

Through high school he could often be found loitering around girl’s houses from class. He developed his own reputation for giving girls he was fixated upon dozens of unwelcomed phone calls a day.

One day when I was 17 I even spotted him outside my home stalking me. I didn’t hide or cringe, I stared back enjoying the pitiful expression on his face. I stepped outside and walked up to him. He was obviously uncomfortable being confronted. “Need another kick in the junk, Sammy?” I asked him. He said nothing as he kept leering. A relative eventually came home, and Sammy took off then.

The next day held news. Sam had been arrested for raping an elderly woman that night, his first step in a laundry list of sex crimes. Still, as typical with our justice system, he never stayed put away long. I moved to a new neighborhood as the years passed, and eventually the sex offender was also run out of our old neighborhood.

In time I entered a local corner store as a dirty bearded man exited carrying a load of cheap beer. He had familiar eyes and leered at me in a way I am used to from all men, but yet was somehow familiar in its own way. I purchased my items and exited to see him still next to the building. I began to stroll home and passed him.

A glass phone booth in the dark betrayed his following me, and I knew I had my own prey. I dwelled on the memory of his gaze and tried to pin point why it was familiar. I let my hips swing as I slowly continued my stroll keeping my prey mesmerized with my body. How could he resist my short skirt and high boots in an outfit that hugged my body, and hair dangling just over my ass?

I entered the foyer of my building and as I found my keys I saw him climbing my steps. Here is a little wisdom for you when dealing with a predator, don’t act like prey. Dogs attack when they smell fear, a shark attacks what flees from it, etc.

He entered the foyer as I opened my door and I rounded on him, holding it open for him to enter the hallway. It was then I recognized him. “Samuel!” I exclaimed, “No wonder you were staring at me like that, I didn’t recognize you with a beard.” It caught him off guard, as he was working up to his attack.

“Umm… Hi…” he stammered.

“You need to clean up and have a drink with me, so we can catch up!” I said, much to his surprise. I saw in his face it seemed out of character for me to be so welcoming and nice. I had to recover, “Sam, have you found Jesus?”

Right then he knew he had me. My sudden and unexpected kindness explained, He grinned back and said “No, haven’t found him yet.”

“Well why don’t you have dinner with me and we can chat?” I asked as I sauntered to my door.

Nice thing about letting the neighbors know you’re a Dominatrix is that they don’t think it very strange when they hear a man screaming from your apartment. So as the door closed and I turned and flooded his eyes with the pepper-spray all any neighbors thought of was foreplay. We writhed with pain, hunched over in agony. I reached into the kitchen grabbing an iron skillet and slammed it into the top of his head, causing a concussion. He went out like a light.

I dragged him into the second bedroom, my dungeon at the time and began to restrain him to the crucifix most of my servants dread. I let him hang there tied to its arms as I changed into an outfit more fitting, one of leather that won’t stain like my current choice in clothes.

I sat across from him comfortably, waiting for him to wake. He finally lifted his lolling head and took his time to focus on me. I stood to my feet and saw his eyes grow wide in fear. I slowly moved in close, “Sammy, Sammy, Sammy…” I said, “You thought you were going to rape me, didn’t you?”

“I’ll fucking kill you, you bitch,” he growled at me.

“Tsk tsk… I think, Sammy, you have no idea who your fucking with, I was always on top of you in school, kicking your balls… and now, I’m a goddess… your just a registered sex offender with no hope for a future.” I replied.

Now his pathetic leering had become mixed with shame. “Let me go,” he said “and you’ll never see me again.”

“Sammy… who says I never want to see you again?” with that a clap of electricity sounded as the clippers in my hand turned on and buzzed. He looked down realizing he was nude for the first time. I shave his whole body. Head to toe, even his eye brows were clipped and then razored, against his pleas for dignity.

“What are you doing to me?” he whined.

“Sammy… didn’t you get it? You haven’t found Jesus; instead you found Goddess Saphire and came to her… I’m going to have to be who fixes your worthless existence.” I laughed at him, “I am the way… for your pathetic self.”

The thin nylon chord in my hand slipped tight around his balls cutting off blood flow. His eyes grew wide, “What are you doing?”

“Sammy… look at your life, you’re on the streets, a sex offender. You can’t hold down a job, and no one wants you living near them. You rape the elderly, you victimize the young and still innocent, you are garbage, and need to be fixed and given direction.” It was the look in his eye that told me salvation is probably the most frightening thing in the world. Good thing I’ll never embrace it for myself.

“What are you going to do?” he whimpered.

“I’m going to free you, from slavery to your cock, and give you slavery to me.” I chuckled. With that my knife, which he hadn’t seen moved to his bound scrotum. I let it rest there and savored his sobs and pleas.

“Please let me go,” he finally begged.

“No, Samuel… that’s not an option.”

“Please don’t hurt me…” A tear rolled down his cheek, forgetting how filthy he was I was compelled to catch it with my tongue owing to the need to taste his grief.

“Let me ask you something Sammy… did it work for any of them when they asked you not to hurt them?” I pressed the knife against his sack harder, as he broke into uncontrollable tears.

“Forgive me.” He bellowed.

“I will, Sammy… I will, but you must make penance. You must experience sacrifice, and embrace control, surrender it to me, and embrace that I know what is best for you.” He continued to babble and cry. His tears flowed freely.

“Goddess… I see your wisdom… and you are right, my urges do have the better of me.” He let out a loud sob. “Let me stay intact. Guide me yourself, and if I fail, I’ll remove my scrotum myself in front of you.”

“You get one chance to turn yourself over to me and keep it that way. I own many strong men, they will make you keep your promise.” I warned him. I opened my closet in my dungeon room and he saw a dog crate large enough to accommodate an adult man. “Sammy, I am the way, now you can live without the urge,” I pointed to the crate, “Now you have shelter, where before you only had an alley and cardboard, and you will soon have your first of the guaranteed daily meals I will provide you. Don’t you have something to say?”

“Thank you Goddess Saphire for fixing me and giving me hope.”

With that I led him to a shower and put him away in his new home. I let him out daily and feed him, let him release his waste when I feel he needs to, and have given him purpose. He is my slave, my gimp, and my property. He has no sexual needs any more, only the need to be used. I allow good servants to abuse him as reward, and he’s become a great little cock sucker, and is left hungry enough to swallow every drop. He answers my phones while I am in session, serves waiting slaves refreshments, and does all my manual home labor. I freed him from the bonds of his urges, and gave him what those urges took from him, shelter, food, and value. Every night he bows lips to my feet and prays to his harsh, wise, and yet, merciful Goddess, and ends all prayers with a request for more.