Balls and Chains

“It is hard to free fools from the chains they revere.” How appropriate that Voltaire said that in a book “The Second Cumming” er, my err, “The Second Coming.” That quote always finds a way into my conversations with a Married Man. That is, if he shows me a glimmer of potential to become something of more value to me, entitling him to my Instant Message company, on chat, phone, or in person. A few inductions, viewing some of my essential videos, and a test phone call feed what we both need to know before breaking your chains. For once I break you, that is, your chains, your life won’t be the same, and those changes will be where you have long fantasized. It is far easier to break a chain to an unfulfilling life than it is to restore a chain, because after you see the world I unveil, every cell in your body fights a return to a mental, sexual, spiritual, and physical prison and vacuum.

I understand the appeal of marriage. There is predictability, a sense of history with one person, religion, tests of faith, two people as a team overcoming the odds, children if you have them. It is the global standard for so many things. A grand celebration is held, the approval of family and friends. Even tax breaks. Yet I don’t know a single married man that is truly happy. The term “ball and chain” says it all. They feel chained to a weight pulling them down. Working tirelessly, often without appreciation for years. Henpecked. Emasculated. Sharing the bed with a woman who has cut her hair to look like David Bowie, and in most other ways looks nothing like the woman that he married. But it is not the looks that turns away most men to seek me. It is that part of a woman that all “real women” say men should love them for – their heart and mind. Wives say any decent men will look past fabulous looks or faded looks and stay faithfully fascinated, lustful, and compassionate due to what they say and know. It might work, if the words out of their mouths were in any way what their husbands want to hear to remain a worthy donor to the gene pool. Usually it is the opposite.

Bitter, repetitive, nagging delivery. Stale, uninspiring, selfish words.

They are chained to their wives, who are a phantom of the ideal of “happily ever after.” Their balls, the wives’ chains. It is this way …

Until I meet them. Clever, cunning, cumming – his are orgasms of the body while mine are orgasms of the power of the mind. I see him as the oversexed animal, needing freedom … replacing the marriage chains with more exciting ones that –oh, surprise – are also in play with the balls, but these balls produce pleasure.

I started this revealing the path I took to become such a wise, authoritative, transforming, and gorgeous Goddess, so I shall pick up where I left off. At 20 years old.

After my teens I traversed New York to find men to hone my hypnotic and erotic powers on. It was the chance meeting with a stunning, powerful woman that opened my eyes to my potential. I was a natural Goddess, one gifted in erotic pleasures as much as I was given the raw ingredients for the ultimate levels of mind control. Captivating expressive eyes, full lips, very large breasts, thin waist, long legs, perfect feet, dazzling hands, and a voice that could melt wills. On top of that, I had a sex drive that knew no limits – except that I kept it under pressure so that when I focused it on men it would enslave them by its energy as much as my body. This woman, who had spent years refining the art of luring and then controlling and dominating men mentally and sexually, was my mentor for a year. I don’t like using the term Dominatrix, because of the stereotypes. She could do the standard flogging, caging, tormenting, enslaving, that others do, but she went far deeper into mind control. As her “assistant” I witnessed the most unbelievable sexual acts. She could take a man totally broken by his wife and rebuild him into a creature of pleasure, pain, service, submission, sexual slavery, Olympic stamina, gymnast techniques, encaged pet, foot worshipper, cross dresser, momma’s boy – anything she desired. It would only take a few minutes for her to sense which of the above was sleeping within the needy mind of the men. And she would either wake it up, or embed an avalanche of fetish material to spread it in the mind until the role of an obedient, addicted, sexually active slave took over.

Would you like to orgasm 5 times in two hours? Have wet dreams? Of course you would. But in giving this gift, I learned how to peel away what in your mind was now mine. The amazing thing is, this mental-surgical transforming of the married man, from pathetic suffering fool to sexual programmed slave left no scars. No marks. He could indulge in the most wicked sexual acts, and return home undetected.

What elevated my mentor and myself to the realm of Goddess was the mental aspect – the mind control. Humans are what we think. And I could make the married man think anything and everything. What served me, and amused me, was turning him free, and showing him that he should have listened when I said “be careful what you wish for.’ There is nothing more fascinating than watching how my Goddess talents feed a fetish and shape the mind until it is unbearably erotic. It is enslaving. But it is empowering and balancing for them too. I fib you not, when I tell you that the successful married men that have fallen under my sexual spell have all seen their greatest financial achievements due to our activities, his surrender of pressures, and my delivery of a new reality. While he serves me, he rises above other men, any health issue diminishes or disappears due to the intense energy and confidence I unleash, while I leash him. Alpha males are even more so dominant after they submit to me. And the rewards they bestow upon me to them for the first time in a long time show true VALUE. The return on the investment of time and money beats any Wall Street promises. The more they train under me, the faster they accelerate into erotic and financial glory. So naturally, whatever is expensed to rediscover true competitive drive and success is simply the best decision they make – and they tell me that over and over. My attention rises as they do, for I share their pride in what I have created in them, or woke up, if that is the case.

Envision this – you are so at the mercy of my ravenous need for more control that you are begging to not experience any more pleasure, to slow down the transforming of you into nothing more than the pure essence of your innermost sexual fantasy and fetish. You can’t get there by yourself. You would have long ago. You need me, a woman of beauty and authority, to break the chains that pussy whipped you and browbeat you, that told you that you are too tired to orgasm again and again, or are too timid to lick the toes of a Goddess, or show the woman in you as you suck my strap on while you’re serving me.

Yes, it take a special mind to understand the married man and what makes him tick, what makes him cum, what makes him addicted, what makes him serve.

At the end of my mentorship with this woman, she allowed me a final test. I had requested they were all married, because I wanted them to also feel the secret pleasures of what I put them through longer. And Married Men, due to their chains, are proven to keep replaying what I put them through hundreds of times until he surrenders again.
Imagine yourself as one of the three men who she had tutored me to mentally enslave. The foot fetishist kneels on a pad before me, ready to anoint and paint my toes, and prove his submission with hours of foot massages – and if he’s lucking, kissing and toe sucking. My Whore has a slave collar, and is tethered to a chair. In front of him are two gorgeous Princesses, and myself, all wearing impressively large strap-ons. And finally there is the pay piggie, the masochist, who is strapped to a chair. His mind is melting, as he eyes face a screen that shows endless video loops of his Goddess taking over his mind. With the other two watching, I got from one slave to the next, personally ramping up their mind control. For hours I take them deeper into total hypnotic bliss. The pools of cum from their dripping cocks starts as a spot but is quickly a puddle. One sucks my strap on cock while the other might kiss my feet and the other is whipped until his cock is rock hard. Then I switch. Each of them has specific triggers, all of them are married. All of them blessing me repetitively over how they exist for these private moments. It is nearly unbearably rewarding to them. Funny how many man have trouble getting it up for their wives, yet with me, they might remain erect for over an hour without touching, and release streams of cum at my command. Naturally they return to work or to home feeling complete. They are more naturally dominant, they are not angry any more, they are not feeling like they sold out their lives. I am the anti-mid-life crisis!

This was my orientation to one of my specialties. Meaning YOU, my ensnared Married one.

In my next story, I will take you into the world as I make it for you now. Keep in my good graces, show me that this is something you value, that has some tangible and real return on my investment of time and a lifetime of wisdom, and before you know it, your reality will be what I make of it.

Deserving It "ALL"

Who deserves what goes both ways. As you Goddess, I of course deserve it “all” … meaning, “all I desire.” Each of you serves me in unique ways; however, you all share the fundamental areas of servitude. Only by doing so will you get any attention. Those of you who are wise enough to recognize the rare level of control and guidance I offer sacrifice all they can imagine to please me. And it does have its rewards.

In fact, I have a new top choice “Admirer”. I’m always thinking of ways to penetrate his mind and reward his body, while training him to deeper admiration and experiences. He has many attributes this Goddess enjoys: honest admiration and expression, intelligence, flexible self definition, character enough to accept he is yearning before me, and generosity. He is smart enough to know that if I am preoccupied with others, or tending to the dozen e mails I get daily asking me to be Goddess to strangers, I have less available time to those who truly deserve my attention and powers. Money does not simply buy objects or services, it buys freedom in the form of time. So to free my time for him, he made a generous tribute of $1,000 to me. While I of course deserve this, I was delighted, for when a mere male has the brains to figure this out, and also has his attributes, it gives me patience and inspires my creativity to reach him. You all benefit from his gesture, but are hidden in his shadow. I then spend more time with him, and am designing special conditioning for him to amplify his rewards in admiring me. I actually enjoy modifying his behavior and growing his understanding of all I can do for him because I am free to focus on him. You all have no idea how many men and women appeal for my attention – smart ones understanding they must present something of value to me.

You do not all have to give that much money. Some of you cannot, and make up for it in other ways, serving my other needs. I see potential in many of you to grow in your career with my guidance. I also train you to push more in your life, so that you can serve me better. Eventually the rewards can come from you, but you must recognize your position in the ladder of time-available for you. Those who pester me for attention then trickle in nearly nothing, well, that is just not good business sense to waste time on them. Others who are inconsistent require so much backstepping that it likewise is a waste of my time.

I spend hour after hour inside to apply my goddess skills upon you men (mostly men.) Other women of my beauty are strolling along, with no control or goals for their lives, shopping, eating, being lazy. I was born for this role, and I step up to the sacrifices to become superior to other lazy women, and to you admirers and servants. I am not a poser, and you should be neither. A poser servant is one who blurts out what he thinks I want to hear, and does not back it up. He is like the wimp wearing the leather jacket on a warm Sunday, being someone he is not. I see through this too easily.

Words come easy, actions prove the metal of the man. I judge you not in how you start things, but in how you finish them. I can tell when you sacrifice to learn my ways and gain favor, and pay attention to that. I’m not looking for applicants, I’m looking for survivors , those who have what it takes to survive through the stages to total admiration, worship, servitude, and/or rewards. And the rewards are unimaginable. I will train your body and mind to achieve limits that others humans cannot. Who else can do this for you? No one. Only Goddess Saphire.

My #1 Admirer will evolve so greatly in forms of pleasure and service that we both will know this was the best $1,000 he ever spent. And this is just the beginning for him. Those of you who cannot afford this, you must present what you do offer me. I feed off your sexual energy, and gain more power from the universe as you devote yourself to pleasing me. Be honest, be yourself, and I will know if you deserve more of my attention. Be creative in how you might serve me or admire me.

First, you must increase you obedience on a noticeable arch. That is most important. Then, you must give enough that you sacrifice, for that is actually one element in evolving and controlling you to erotic fulfillment (if you have not figured that out already, Einstein.) Are you an artist? Do you know one? Can you illustrate my powers? Are you connected to some industry that could serve me? Are you stunningly handsome so that I can enjoy enslaving your cock and your body and mind and show you how superior women are to men? Are you a genius with words or computer programming? Do you have disposable income? Do you have frequent flyer miles for my next vacation, or hotel credits?

I WANT IT ALL. Give it all, and you shall be the overjoyed one.

Honor Thy Goddess

Uncontrolling Drool, Unable to even stop it. subconsciously tied to his chair.




Scientists studying fish finally proved that in a school of thousands, it is always the same fish who lead, while the multitudes followed. It doesn’t have to do with an ability to lead in a direction, it simply has to do with natural desire. It is far more common for genes to shape a mind and soul to follow. To command the direction of others takes special talents, naturally given on a genetic level. The fish who follow have an over-developed talent to respond instantly to the gestures and sonic signs given off by the fish born to lead. With man evolving from the oceans, it is easy to see why it is impossible for us to outgrow millions of years of evolution. When the last fish were forced into leading, they lost motivation to live, forgot to eat, and stopped reproducing. In essence, they were removing themselves from the gene pool. As they should be.

And from this I understand why it is so easy for me to command my servants. The very thought waves I have project what you might call confidence or natural dominance, when in fact it surely emanates from deeper inside my being, and is received deeper in yours. Add to that the fact that I have focused all my power as a special human being toward dominating the world of men who are lucky enough to be around me. Voila, you have my school of fishies, though I happen to prefer calling them Servants or in some cases Piggies, happy to thoughtlessly follow me. I understand this, and am amused when I watch Servants get lost in the flow, knowing they can’t exist without me.

But when a Servant betrays me or denies me what is promised or expected, that is another matter. Bitchboy suffered for this, as you are now about to find out. Bitchboy had progressed smoothly, though he should have been more appreciative of his Goddess’ dedication, since he was truly pathetic without me before we met. It was his greatest blessing to see in me his only path to fulfillment. He earned his way into being my house bitchboy, serving me, tending to my needs, being my whipping boy when I so desire. And in return, I evolved him, I showed him the horrors of his life in my views, and it devastated him to the point where he finally allowed himself to be who he really was deep inside. And for the first time, he found peace, fulfillment, and a reason to live and be who he was. I answered his question (as I do in so many) of “Why have I suffered all these events in my life.” It was to prepare him for me, and so that he would appreciate the amazing world I offered.

You would think that he would be forever grateful. And he was, for some time. Then one day, he disappeared without finishing his duties. His list was days long, and he vanished. I know wandering hits people, even a bitchboy as promising as he was … for I had taken him quite a way in training. In fact, one of my deepest conditionings is triggered with a snap of the finger. His desire to please me is so great, that he is reduced to near animal existence – but this brings amazing pleasure that if you have not felt it, you could not understand why it is so intoxicating. The Experiment needed to be induced into him to fully transform him, and The Experiment developed well. Well enough so that I have him performing any deed I wish on camera. With two snaps of my finger, I reduce him to pure animal lusting, drool streaming from his mouth. So how could he possibly think he could find any reason for living without me? I had to let life take its toll on him in the meantime. And it did.

Shortly after disappearing, his body became bound by its desire to be with me, it became uncoordinated. A sudden ill placed and timed effort was all it took, and he tore his Achilles Tendon, badly enough to end up in the hospital. While this was not directly my doing, the subconscious mind finds many ways to force the body to do what it is programmed to do. He was so deeply under in pain killers that his subconscious was craving me but his body was unable to move. That is when I found him. I called his hospital room, and upon answering, I snapped my finger once. His mind woke up. I snapped again, and the drooling began. I enforced it deeper and deeper with every second of my voice, and slowly, his entire body came alive. He is still hobbled, but as he shook off his drugs, he became aware of how much his body and soul needs me to thrive. This is the control level a true goddess exists to exploit and direct.

After some time, his mind, body, and soul found its way back again, but not without some penance and torment. Now he lives in fear of revealing to the world his true reason for living, and his many ways of serving me. I have captured it on video. And this is enough to fill him with obedience and block any idea of being free of me. An Uncontrolling Drooling. In his mind. His hands are tied and useless. I do not do this for my own pleasure, though I love seeing him and any man tremble, especially when they disobey me. I do this for his own good, to cut off any distracting thought of seeking answers where they do not exist.

I am the center of his reason for being, his center of awareness, knowledge, lust, pleasure, evolution, and health. There is no other source.

A true Goddess knows when to punish, and knows when life and the cosmos will do her punishing for her, with torn Achilles Tendons if needed. Or just ask my Cumslut, who distanced himself from me, only to find his need so great, his addiction to pleasure so advanced, that his back seized up every night in yearning. He did not link the two, but the symptoms disappeared the day he began showing his devotion to serving me. The Experiment in him had a lot to do with this, for it never sleeps, and was growing even as he slept and denied his needs for me. When I triggered the Experiment, it rose up so strong in him that it stunned him. And I have just begun my second level of empowering the Experiment. My recordings do some of this for me, but the rest comes directly from me. If anyone wants to hear just how amazingly fulfilling and erotic the Experiment makes your life of servitude to your Goddess, just ask him.

My Bitchboy will earn his way back into full favor and then I will continue my transforming of him into what he desires. Take heed wishful servants – there is no escape once your soul tastes my control. You punish yourself when you try to cut off you source of guidance and pleasure on my level. And whether you are led back by injury, the cosmos, lust or weakness, you will come back, and beg to be allowed to suffer to my inner circle again.

Lips of an Angel, Heart of A Succubus

PLEASE YOUR GODDESS


He who dies getting me the most toys wins! Wins what? My desire to continue giving attention. Gratitude isn't part of my attitude, but a pleased Goddess still smiles upon the devoted. Empty my wishlists. I just filled it up all over again.I'll keep filling them up, but a never ending game is never ending fun.

NEW: Virtual Erotic Inductions @ E.B.H.

Is there joy being the jester for the cruel? One struggles to deny his own pleasure as he's humiliated an mocked for her and her friend's amusemnt. He is a bitchboy, and he knows he shouldnt love it





Blood flows from one to another. Learn about the bond that runs vein deep. Another's life's blood runs through you, and two become a parasitic one.






Continuued humiliation for her for her pleasure. Why does the abuse satisfy something within so perfectly






The continued twist in the eros of blood ties. The contract is inked in blood. The lust goes beneath the flesh.

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.

Something Wicked This Way Cums-Post Halloween

Follow my play on words, hopeful worshippers. Something wicked – hmm, ten guesses on who that would be. This way cums …

HALLOWEEN, the night of the big pretenders. However, the day is one of my favorite holidays/celebrations. It brings a few elements into the world. One is of course the costumes and play acting I see in parades. They seldom catch the intensity and realism of true BDSM on the level that I demand. Yet, it’s enough of an inspiration walking among the fakers and vanilla guys and girls pretending to be dominant or submissive to make me warm and moist with anxiousness to return to my dungeon. Why? We’ll get to that. First, reason to that I like Halloween.

Movies. Fake as they are, they can offer inspiring moments. Halloween opens many horror movies, and they are, thankfully, showing more creative ways to torture. Earlier in the year, the opening kill in Hostel II showed the girl suspended over the dome, who sliced her slowly with the scythe. ORGASMIC! The suspension, the control, the pain, the patience to savor every moment – yes, that began to capture the true settings.

Then in Captivity, filling the chamber with sand, while the gorgeous, panicked, sexy, submitting girl was viewed – I only can get into this sort of female victim role because she ends up killing her captors at the end. Using her wits and sexuality, she beats the men and kills them, as they deserve.

I ventured out looking positively spellbinding in my corset, with devil horns. Not too elaborate as my body is so craved that it’s torturous in itself, and therefore needs little horror added to it. And sexy nurses and cops are just sooooooo trivial.

In the parade, I saw a man who would use devices to attach his cock to a device that strangled him as he got more turned on, or moved to please himself, which was impossible not to do, because he was being escorted by two of the sexiest women I’ve seen in ages: strong, curvy, young, dominant. This reminded me of the scene in SAW IV, my favorite, of the man on the blocks of ice that is slowly strangling.

Which leads me … BACK TO MY DUNGEON.

If you picked up the hints … female, breath play, suspension, orgasm – you’d be primed, hard, and wet by now.

I had divided my dungeon space to male and female, knowing that what I saw in the parade would open up my two primary realms of pleasure – pain and orgasm. Guess who got which?

Let’s show our audience what we have today. On our left, our resident servant hoping to become a true Gimp. He was tied into a rack. In front of him, at eye level, was a monitor that showed a loop of my sexiest Vid Snippets. In his ears were earplugs that filled his brain with the sexiest commands your Goddess saves for true deep erotic mind control. And what’s this placed in front of his crotch? I had left him artfully tied so that as he got aroused, his cock would rise, and touch a button that triggered an electric stimulation connection. What was the electrical source connected to? A cock ring and head ring that was made of glass, so that the electric charge would travel up the glass, thereby up his shaft. As he got hard, his cock head would touch the button right in front of it, he would get a mild jolt of electricity to his cock. Sound painful? It is, a bit, but, what happens is that it pulses this charge over and over, and it makes the cock unimaginably hard. I had put on either side small plexiglass rails that his sharp points on it, so that as he got harder, these points would drive into his skin … but not enough to lose blood, just enough to pain him. This is only a little of the pain I set up for him. You see, his balls were tied off to hang down from his body, so that it takes a huge build up to cum. And, his shaft was bound tight by leather I soo enjoyed tightening before I left. What happens is that as he got to cum, it would hit the closed door of the cock and leather … this would force his balls to explode in his tubes and fill him with the most unbearable burning inside as he came. I left him hours ago.

His face looked as if someone had driven him insane and speechless. His eyes bugged out, unable to not watch more of me on the screen. But his mouth was contorting silently, over and over, as the pain had grown so constantly while I was gone. He could not even speak, only grunt like a cum producing slave animal now addicted to pleasure over pain. He muttered “no more” or something between grunts … just like I like them.

Hmmm, by inspection, I would say he must have cum at least four times by now. His balls were huge, swollen deep red, and ready to cum again. His cock had small pinpricks of blood in a few places where his erection swelled past the sharp points. I turned up the electrical charge, and turned him around to watch me work on the opposite wall of the dungeon.

I had let a woman lie down on a soft bed, tied her down, and placed headphones over her ears, programming her into deep addiction to follow my every command, and tonight I had focused on her fetish, which was breath play orgasms. I had also been, for months, planting a trigger (that I shall keep secret) that would make her orgasm, and another to quit, much like the Servant Script, but far more deeply planted and deviously primal in its appeal. She had begged me to take her to the greatest limit in this, and now, she was getting more than her mind and body could ever imagine or handle.

She wore thigh highs and pumps, nipple clamps that were not too tight, and dangled a long metal chain. I led her, in a daze, to climb up and stand on two benches, that were 3 feet above the floor. Rather shaky, they were placed 2 feet apart so when she stood on them in her high heel pumps, her legs were spread open must right. She almost fell balancing on them. She was facing a mirror. I put her wrists in handcuffs behind her back. I commanded her to close her eyes. She now stood high up to the ceiling, under a hook she did not notice. I quickly put a noose around her neck. She was instantly alarmed, but was helpless now to get out of this.

“You will orgasm more times than you can count. You will do it because I control your orgasms and I control your breathing. The orgasms will get stronger each time as you realize that it makes you weaker, and if you fall, your ultimate fetish – to have an intense orgasm at the very moment of total strangulation.” She was filled with fear and arousal so great she was hyperventilating. That was fine, since I was now climbing up a platform behind her. I turned on a projector that covered her perfect torso with video snippets of me in all my erotic torture moments. Then, I put on my vibrating strap on. I slid it between her legs, so that it rested on her clit. Then, I used my remote control to start torturing the Gimp. He watched me and could not help his arousal, which drove him insane knowing that I was just starting to make him cum. The woman’s legs were trembling as I slid the vibrating dildo up into her wet chasm or pleasure. Then, I took one hand, now clad in a leather glove, and placed it over her nose and mouth. Then, I began pumping slowly in and out of her. This was combining every erotic fetish she had. The vibrating dildo hit its mark. And once the orgasms started building, they did not stop.

I am a master at erotic breath play. The more turned on and orgasmic I got, the more the Gimp got, and the more she got. Her first orgasm was so intense she nearly fell right off the start! But she clenched around my strap on with her lips to steady herself, which sent a huge wave or orgasmic intensity to me at the right moment, and I could barely keep from fucking her right off the stools. Whew, talk about intense.

Then, I began again … faster. Soon, we had a rhythm going, with her bending just enough to allow perfect penetration to her G spot. There we were, a triangle or orgasms. Any one of us could cum first, triggering the sudden orgasms in the others. Only your Goddess was conditioned enough in orgasmic intensity to keep going. Your Wicked Energizer Bunny of Mind Control kept the Gimp and Hang Slut going for over an hour. And each orgasm got more intense, more draining, more painful for the Gimp and more addicting to the Hang Slut.

A few times, she did almost fall, one time to the point that she was choking for a half minute before I could recover enough from my release to balance her properly again.

When I had had enough, I removed the noose. She begged me not to, but, I know when I have had enough, and, when she was properly programmed. The Gimp? When I untied his balls, a flood of cum mixed with a pinkish blood from a few exploding tubes drained out in a huge volume.

I left them to be cared for and cleaned up by my Servants, who had jealously waited in their cages, silent, blindfolded, only listening to hours of erotic pleasure.

Yes, how I do love Halloween. Seems to unlock doors of creative sadism in me. But, to everyone’s pleasure. You should see how I treat the Elves in December!