The Money Shot

Your Goddess is so busy training new Admirers in Real Time, phone, and Internet photo shoots are rare and the ultimate treat! So steamy you can feel the heat I felt shooting it. 8 minutes revealing the sexual treasures making me instantly overwhelming in my presence. Only one of my Admirers will earn the original, and messages urging me for it have already arrived. You’ll know on first viewing that it blows more than just your mind, accelerates your sex drive, and transforms you into the type of sexually free and fetished creature I devote more time to. Warning! This incorporates the ultimate beauty and dominance tools to enslave. The powers to transform you and increase arousal build with each viewing, so be careful what you wish for, I made this one exclusively for those hoping to live on a daily basis in a state of constant hypnotic, sexual, and serving euphoria!

Gift Wrapped

As ice blankets the New England states, baby blue blankets your Goddess, and wraps her body into the sexiest Santa could deliver. Well, blankets may not be the accurate word. How about “baby blue hugs, fondles, and sexualizes your Goddess?” You all are used to seeing me all in black, or in my devilish red. But a Worshipper sent me a hot, laced, baby blue bra and panty set. I must say, the design and how it fits my body surprised me to the point that since I put them on after tea, in my usual lingerie fashion show I treat myself to (and a few lucky private webcam Slaves who pay enough for private viewings) my body has been vibrating with a growing sexual energy.


Ah, these relaxing days, with the fire crackling in my living room and dungeon, the plush walls of my bedroom caress me. It should be the hands of a Servant, but even they were given the day off by their Deity of Deviance due to the ice and rain. My comforter, filled with the warmest down, wraps around my manicured toes and climbs up to my waist. I like lying here, typing on my laptop, blogs and IM’s afire.


That’s not the only thing afire. I’ve been looking down past my breasts … like I am now … my how the flesh rises out of this cup and lace. As usual, my breasts overflow, heave with every breath. I love watching it, like watching them wrap around a nice, fiery Slave’s … well, I’ll let you imagine what. At least I can say that my mind wanders, and replays how it looks to wear a tight, light colored bra like this, and watch the tongue of a Sex Pet spend however long I wish slowly moving his tongue around my cleavage, eventually finding my nipples, lifting them out of the lace to suck on until I am so hot I command him to his position on his knees and take charge!


Yes, watching my breasts raise and squeeze together sends impulses to nerves hidden by the lace panties. As delicate as they are, they hold in the heat and my hands unconsciously drift down, the fingernails dragging across my nipples, past my velvety stomach, to my panty line. Next thing I know, if I’m not paying attention, fingertips are testing and seeking the heat. I’ll be typing with one hand and not noticing the pleasure until it jumps up my body from my thighs to my mind and make me moan. Then I snap out of it, realizing how turned on I get looking at my own body. Sometimes it gets so intense that words like, “I want me so bad” gasp out and that is quickly followed by fingers probing, rubbing, scratching – ahh, but that is shared with the lucky Servants only. But you get the idea. In fact, one moment please, I want to take a fingertip barometer reading on what sort of weather front I have ahead of me. Increasing wetness, followed by a heat wave.” Damn, I’ve got to kick off this comforter! Hmm, so cold outside, and yet my breasts are flush with blood.


This gives me an idea. Yes, more webcam pictures. And a video. Yes, that would be just the thing to bring to you the level of sexual heat that I’m feeling. And, you simply must all see this terrific set of lingerie this Servant sent to me. I didn’t realize how sexy I would feel looking at the white and blue lace. I’ll set up now. One moment.


Ah, now, we’re connected. Wait, damn, this gets tricky. I want my hands free to touch myself, it’s just getting intense in these covers and lingerie!


Hmmm, the camera is a nice Sony cam with zoom, but – I need someone to operate it. Putting out the word: Is there a Servant in the New York area (N.J., PA.) that is available 3-7 pm a few days a week that can work this cam for me? I’m serious. This is a Slave’s dream come true! My last cam slave paid for it! Your Goddess wants you Servants and Admirers to get the full benefit from her top quality cam.


Taking pictures in this mood delivers only a fraction of my intensity as it’s growing. A video will follow in the next days I’m sure.


Oh, while touching this nice lace, it reminds me of the lace I wear in Second Life. You’ll start to see changes to my website beckoning you to my other realm of power. If you pass my test, you’ll be invited into my dungeon, club with your Goddess, adore her on her throne, sit in her chair of obedience – all the things you crave. Including being in front of an image so much like me that it will mold your mind and prepare you for our first meeting. Also, changes in the site will deal with direct camming at the hours listed above, 3-7, that are private. Though costly, this is as close to sexual overload as you could get. Me, on cam… in lingerie … hot like today, wet like today, ready to tease like today.


Hang on, I’m taking a pleasure break. I just caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, these hands have some heat seeking to do.


I don’t smoke, but now sure would be the time… hah. The panties got kicked off somewhere. Oh, there they are. The bra? It tugged down to my waist and stayed there. Now lifted up, pushing my nipples that still tingle closer to my mouth. Mmm, so warm and wet. I’m going to sign off blogging and get these pictures posted on NiteFlirt.


LOOK FOR THE CHANGES IN MY SITE,

COME TO SECOND LIFE.


The first Servant available for filming gets a crash course in serving his Goddess!

Action Speaks Louder Than Words

You know what gets me hot? What gets me wet? What makes it so, so hard to keep my own fingers off myself? Submissives taking action under my watchful eye, taking initiative to show me how under my leathery wings they break out, become creative as Servants and Admirers in ways to please me. And especially ways to make me greater, more erotically powerful. For isn’t that why you are here, reading? My erotic magnetism and strength draws you, snares and holds you, pulls your mind into mine, buckles your knees before me, drives your tongue to please me?

I began my day, dedicated to approving which of you shall suffer pleasure and evolve to my will, word, and touch. Sitting hours, reading your emails, receiving your adulations, listening to you pontificate, beg, hint, and grovel, brag and seek. While you spent the hour or week dwelling on me, one of you burst beyond what I expected from him. One of you took all the mind control and conditioning to task, and let it shape his thoughts, build his creative energy, embolden the spark that will attract my attention.

One rose to greatness as a slave, cumslut, fetish monger, and whore for my pleasure – and you all profit from his efforts. You all rise up as potential, as tools, devices that until plugged in are powerless. He plugged in all right. He opened his mind, he plugged in, the wetness from his cock, dripping because he had pleased me so much this week already, became a conduit for my electrifying erotic mind. With my words, and the week of transforming assignments and inductions, he evolved into something worthy of my attention.

Like so many of you in the last weeks, and the newcomers among you hopeful Saphireists, he heard that I wanted to expand awareness for what I offer through guerilla advertising. Creative graffiti and messages placed where the idea of the beauty of my level of mind control can spread. His mind, expanded through weeks of mental manipulation by his Goddess, concocted an effective way to share my power with others. The image here is his flyer, which can be either a poster, card, or bumper sticker. He put my website on his shirt, filled out the spaces with some of my more universally yet mainstream images, and spent his hard earned money to immortalize his devotion to his Goddess. The Goddess that has taken the best of her talents to transform him, to raise his sexual pleasure levels three times what they were when he met me through NiteFlirt.

When I asked him why he was so inspired (though I knew the answer) he said, ‘Because I know that what lies ahead will dwarf the already incredible way you have improved me and filled me with purpose and contentedness.” It was so honest and humble, it made me cream to push him so much more, to dream up the ways to give him all he has revealed he craves and needs, in measures far beyond what he expects so that he has not choice but to surrender to me and the changes that will make redefine him.

The world awareness of just how superior my talents in erotic hypnosis and transformation in those lucky enough to be chosen by me to enter my realm is spreading over the world. Slowly at first, but now it is like a tsunami reaching the shores of minds at a growing speed. My website -- surely the most magnificent as an art of expression for what a dominant female Goddess hypnotist can offer – does contain that magical power of the cosmos and human energy that cannot be faked. Like Martial Arts “chi” … it’s either there or it’s not, and those who gauge “masters” sense it immediately in me. And it grows, and grows.

This surprise effort on my Servants part flushed me with appreciation for the sacrifices of time and learning I go through for you all reading this. After some thought, I knew that this would inspire all of you to perform better as tools to expand my power. And you want that, for as my power grows, so does my talent for transforming you and increasing your sexual rewards. It might even lead to my inviting you to my dungeon, as I have done to this creative servant. I could not help myself, for a wise Goddess recognizes the value in a truly giving, caring Servant … it was so natural for my sexual energy to grow as I thought of ways to push him, give him what he wants, because that pleases me – to make him greater as a sexual hypnotic slave. Instantly he felt my approval, for I called him and spoke those divine words that trigger his mind to open. All day as he told me his ideas on how his week was spent serving me all over Hollywood, how his plan matured and bore fruit, I spoke my transforming words into his ear. Short calls, repeated … all day, he answered my ring, my command to open his mind and let me plant more seeds of sexual reward and new training into his mind. It made me so hot knowing his sacrifice for me, and what I was doing in to his mind in reward, that I changed from my morning lingerie to my most titillating leather, for he had sparked my own need for sexual gratification. I had a Servant over helping me arrange the gifts some of you were wise enough to purchase off my Amazon Wish List, and luckily he was a fine-bodied Submissive. He felt the sudden release of my passion as I talked with my most creative Servant in the field, for I wanted to reward him with the audio of what it will be like when I call him to my dungeon to experience me in the flesh.

All of you – all of you will now show me how much you appreciate your Goddess and his efforts. His collage of my power and website I present to you all as a device to spread awareness of me. Those of you smart enough to know that you crave my next level of control and conditioning will make your own posters, cards, or bumper stickers from my file/images. And you will peddle and paste them where people will see. I will get some callers, for sure, as I already have had some from Hollywood. But just as important is the psychic awareness it spreads among minds and the energy of hypnosis, mind control, erotic expansion, wicked deviance, and sexual evolution. Like a wave building in the deeper ocean, the idea that a Goddess of hypnotic control and physical beauty of my level is out there, drawing them to fly over the crest of the wave of change I break upon their collective wills.

Mmm, already, writing this, another wave of desire to reward this Servant reaches me. And I will call him again, evolve his mind some more. And YOU, all of you, will think more of how he sacrificed a bit of time and imagination and got the reward that you crave – my direct and continued attention.

ACTION … let me see you take my mental energy and act upon it, make a change, show me your talents as a servant, sexual slave, deviant, and transforming Saphireist.

Spring Unchained

With my new house decorated, and MY DUNGEON (Your Paradise of Pain, Orgasm, and Servitude) only awaiting my custom made slave furnishing … I felt compelled to spend some of the Tribute money sent by Servants on re-designing my NYC-view condo. These Servants learned the rewards that extra time spent with me makes it the best spent money of their month. After all, you go out for drinks and blow a hundred or two without a single memory worth re-visiting. Their mind is forever advanced in its fetish arousal and pay-off, she why shouldn’t my own arousals (like a Pimped Pad) also enjoy pay-off. While I will always be dominant over you, there is balance in our roles. The more you give, the more I give, they are simply polar opposites in form of emotion and devotion. As you change, I change, you downward into more control, me upward in supernatural powers of erotic mind control and physical dominance.

My condo has a fantastic view of the New York Skyline from Jersey. The living room sliding window was somewhat obscured because so much of my “lifestyle” as Goddess took over the other rooms. With my new house, this is simply my Goddess Throne. The entire condo now dedicated to pampering your adored One. I had always wanted a high quality Renaissance feel to the living room. It seems to recall when Goddesses were well known as true divining rods of power over men’s bodies and minds. It is also the Age of creative expression. The idea behind the Renaissance, for those who don’t know, was the Medici idea that to be closer to those artists who can create perfection (like God) brought them closer TO God and heaven. [All of this Catholic bullshit, but it did start the greatest era of art.] As I “am” a Goddess, my living room is my/your heaven, all within it Perfection.

Sunday was my day for splurging on my heaven, and I was bound (not in the same way you are bound in my presence) to enjoy my celestial domain make-over. First, I called two Princesses, who were delighted to help me. Whenever in my presence, they absorb my wisdom and ways in natural doses, while greatly enjoying watching how I deal with the world of men. Unlike most women who feel fine shopping in sweat clothes, we all wore similar designer jeans, heels with painfully (to you when we step on your balls) heels, and bras or bustiers under button down blouses. Nothing like a little cleavage to get a 25% discount!

Cash in hand, we hit the designer store I had been window shopping. When three gorgeous women with glowing smirks of power glide into a showroom with three bored Salesmen, they don’t need to command attention. The men fall all over themselves trying to help. We needed fabrics, pillows, a new sofa with matching plush chair, a footrest that for show is not a slave on his hands and knees, some lamps, pictures, an end table, and an antique folding screen with Renaissance era design on it. In a sense I felt like I went fishing, for I could yank on the line of any one of the men and they’d reel back to me. My princesses were amused on how I would find ways to repeated be above the men, forcing their subconscious brains to bow to my movements and voice. One man, the daily manager it turns out, couldn’t stop looking at our feet, so his torment came first. Asking them to flip over a fabric tag on the footrest put one at my toes. Moving my five little perfectly pedicured piggies in front of this piggy made him flush. I kept making him look down, then move an inch forward so that my crotch was closer to his face each time. What was going on verbally was my muttering how this is perfect, and SERVES MY PURPOSE … yet was more than I would spend. I had one Princess after another come by and place her foot on the stool, close enough so that I could see his nostrils whiffing the heavenly scene of her leather open toed stilettos … he chose the wrong pants that day. Khaki shows pre cum stains way too easily. I had him crawling – HAHA, CRAWLING – from one pair of feet to the other checking prices.

In the meantime, a dozen men walking past the store saw us, and made detours into the store pretending to buy. We ignored them mostly, but did manage to inspire one to pull away a Salesman a while. He kept looking over at us. I told this man he should buy a very expensive dining set, and he obeyed. I knew from his eyes he was submissive. The reason for this is that I knew it would give the store its profit so that it could lose money on my purchases.

Meanwhile, my Princesses were working their mind control on the other Salesmen. The light from the lamps shone down on their breasts like beacons. Red fingernails dragging across them telegraphed the scratching these men might suffer in private. It’s unbelievable how many times you can fill idle chit chat with the words, “Deeper, down, surrender, power, authority, aroused, hard, wet, dripping, erect, succumb, suck, lip, tongue, power, obey, and serve.” One by one their minds were drowned in their sexual weaknesses and our words of superiority.

This was the finest of the stores to shop from. But I had to torture them by leaving a moment to walk down the street. (All men who drifted in left within a minute, it was like a comedy exit, men trying to cover their arching cocks.) We had a coffee with cakes, giving them enough time to almost decide to go into the bathroom to jerk off – but not quite. I kept on having my Princesses call them for prices again, keeping their throbbing cocks unfulfilled. When we walked back, it was like coming to a puppy store. They were lined up at the glass, dicks wagging like tails. I staged a moment outside the store in which one Princess kept pointing down the street as if we made other choices. We even walked away a moment … then of course my piggie the Manager walked out and, though he did not notice it, he bowed and begged us to come back in. He knew the problem – he should be paying US to buy there. For the final moment of mind control, I had all three of us sit back into the deep sofa to test how much we would, “Enjoy lounging all morning on it in our heels and lingerie.” I had him kneel before us “to take a photo” and he never got off his knees. Why would he? He had six perfect feet waving in his face as we crossed our legs and dangled our shoes. The other men? They were sitting to the side, watching one Princess swing her necklace bob across her breasts while telling a story of a dream she had about going “down” to the beach and sinking into the sand.

When their eyes had been glassed over and their cocks throbbing for 15 minutes, I suddenly command, “Agree to my offer.” He blurted out “Yes” but then had to make it possible. He conferred with the Salesmen, who agreed to half their commission, and he reduced the price to fit my demands. I won’t tell you how much I spent, but I will tell you that I “should” have spent almost $6,000. AND we wanted it on a truck following us within one hour, which we would spend eating lunch down the street.

Wine washed down the wonderful taste of total control. The waiters were gay, giving us a break and changing our mood to one of accepting their praise to “be like us.”

By the time we returned to the store, the furniture was loaded. The men all tried to hide their small cum stains, but it was no use. Once we appeared, their hardening cocks squeezed out impressive wet spots. I told them we’d be back, and to think of us daily, which they will.

Upon arriving to my condo, we realized we needed entertainment. I called my puppy up, and told him to be there in 20 minutes – tight jeans, the proper bulge of respect, and clean enough to eat off of. The driver and helper from the store moved the furniture up to my living room. But I sent them off when my slave appeared.

A picture says a thousand words, so this picture shows you his position. He is tasty, and my Princesses love cock worship. So they enjoyed watching me work his mind and body to my conditioning. First, I ripped his shirt off. Then, I forced him against the wall. With my breasts rising out of my bustier and pushing him firmly, my hands were free to fasten the cuffs and chains over his head. I then dropped to my knees – a rare action, to be sure one he had been dying to re-live since my last training – and unbuttoned his pants. Right down to the cock line. I made sure it was standing upwards. And then told him that if he got so hard that his cock appeared, I would refuse to give him the hour in my Chair of Obedience, followed by brainwashing arousal, that he begged for. He thought this would be easy … until I whispered to my Princesses.

Mind you, that these two women are gorgeous, with bodies that slay any resistance. They soon reappeared, both wearing lingerie. While you cannot see it in this photo, my puppy’s back is striped with claw marks. I had them flash their red fingernails while I stroked his back for five minutes, increasing the pain when he looked like he was in control. Then, I had them kneel in front of him, and while one would lick the cleavage of the other, they painted his chest with my name using red fingernail polish. I commanded him to stay standing in this position pictured until our redecorating party was over.

We opened wine, treats, and put on my mind control MP3’s in sequence. The monitor showed my Uncontrolled Arousal vid snippet. We would use our taste to fine tune the placement of furniture and hanging of the fabrics. I made sure to command my puppy to stand aside the ladder as one Princess after the other would place her panties within tongue distance from his adoring face. Oh, how close I could see his cock coming. He was in agony. That erectile agony was eventually overcome with aching in his arms. To torment him more, we took time off to treat me to massages by my Princesses.

By now, we had started a nice fire and cut the lights. It was dark. I was moist, and my Princesses were wet, for even they cannot ignore my MP3 commands. I wanted pleasure, NOW. As they both went through training in oral pleasures, I let them please each other while I amplified my arousal by finally commanding my puppy to lie on the floor. I was facing his cock, lowering my leather corset crotch over his face … and told him if his cock did not now appear instantly, I would banish him from my presence for a month. With a gasp of pleasure, his rock hard cock appeared. He had seen the flogger used by my Princesses on each other. So he was not surprised when he felt a pattern of flogging stroke his dripping cock in the warm glow of firelight.

Riding his smothered face, I brought myself to the most divine orgasm. I made sure not to allow him to release until my Princesses delivered some mind conditioning pain to him with their fingernails. Only then were his wrists unchained. The cum mixed with the red fingernail polish, and I had them write my name in cum down each side of his neck to his shoulder, and keep it there. The glisten had to last until this morning. He is commanded to save a picture of this glistening obedience before showering.

I will take a break now, as the view to the city is quite nice this time of afternoon. I shall relive the pleasure of being Your Goddess every time I sit down. But the real thrill for me now is … imagining how I will torment you I my OTHER home, with it’s dungeon of worship.

Your Global Goddess

I knew it was only a matter of time before my website hit “critical mass.” By that I mean, so many people in the erotic hypnosis and mind control dome world spread word it was the most elaborate, artistic, real, and truly powerful website for men and women destined to surrender to a woman of authority. The growth was small at first, then hit a new plateau … then another one a month ago … and suddenly in the last week my original hits doubled … and doubled again. This will continue, I’m sure.

The most exciting aspect of this is reaching truly deserving new Servants, Slaves, Cumsluts, Experiments, and Saphireists. If you get any attention from me, then you can be assured that I am testing your commitment and ability to stay with the demands I put upon you in the way of conditioning, assignments, tributes, obedience, and a willingness to enter into a new phase in our life. Maybe I have not stressed this enough. IF YOU ACCEPT ME AS YOUR GODDESS AND THE SUPREME MIND CONTROL MASTER OF EROTIC REALMS, YOUR NORMAL FORMER LIFE WILL BE BUT A SPEC COMPARED TO THE POWER AS A SAPHIREIST.

With my talents spreading ,and my popularity rising, I can be even more discriminating. More demanding. And, in return ,as more surrender their sexual energy to me, I become more powerful. There is a force in this world that pours into only a few Goddess Domination Geniuses, and this force enters me more and more with every mind and soul I absorb into my Entity. It is nearly mythic in potential. Yet it is quite simple. When so many men and women surrender their will and sexual energy to you, some of it does end up being absorbed by me. It is not unlike “public charisma” which builds as the speaker, politician, rock star, or movie idol becomes an obsession and leader among those seeking something to believe in as supreme, superior, or a guiding light.

My website has suddenly become popular in Europe and Asia. I find it fascinating though normal for me to transcend different languages and customs to deliver the utmost in erotic mind control and total body and mind transformation into a deeply satisfied Servant or Slave. Each far reaching interaction feeds more unique power into me. Men are men all over the world, yet, it takes a master in mind control and domination to maximize your progress toward your goal of complete dissolve into my powers.

This day, a submissive man from Korea made a solid plea to be worthy of my attention. I know far more about Asian lifestyle than most American Dommes, because most are posers, and this hurts the future of this submissive as much as the entire arena of mind control. So when some man or woman makes such effort to prove his value to me, I give it intense focus for greater effects. He has no idea how much farther my powers extend past the normal bound and gagged and penetrated sessions he might have fantasies of or has experienced. It is the mind and soul, the entire being, that surrenders to me, not just the flesh. I refuse to be masturbation material for eager eyes of feeble minds. He has been accepted on the condition of passing my first several assignments. If he passes the test, he will enter a new deeper level of surrender, and enjoy the rewards that come with it. The secret experiences I have awaiting will literally blow his mind. He will not be the same if he continues, and will never want to go back. Those around him may never know his transformation, but it will be no less amazing than a second birth.

What we accomplished so far is that he proved how consistent and serious he was about being considered as a special Submissive by purchases every trance and assignment he could on NiteFlirt. That was his intro. When he saw my sight it blew his mind. He sent sincere open emails to me, explaining his life and concerns. He is married, and wants his family life undisturbed. Yet for the first time his sexual life was ignited with me. And just with the slightest focus of my powers onto his life. I gave him the first level of conditioning – blue balls, or orgasm denial, that involved intense arousal. This will continue for days until it begins to literally change his body chemistry and mind to become even more addicted to my beauty and power. He needs this, he needs a massive jump start to his sex drive, health, and release. This he knows will be tied to self bondage, and other techniques. I enjoy his ability to express himself. He will go far, even though I have just recently approved his application as a Servant. He’s willing to spare with the time, focus, and money it takes to completely re design his sexual being and service attitude toward women. He’ll enjoy it more than anything he experienced in his entire life – he already knows this in just a day. OH, and even if he were a true visionary, he could only foresee less than 10% of the incredible experiences I have awaiting him. If he does end up lasting through my guidance (and he will) then I am considering being flown to Seoul for a few days so that I can take him four or five levels deeper into control and two or three levels up in sexual hypnotic reward. Oh yes, he’ll get more than he bargained for … he has no idea … but will love it. I will become his reason for getting up in the morning, for being a good father, for his hard work, and for his sexual identity.

My other foreign hopeful I am considering among the many is an Italian – quite masculine and fit. I like that, though it is not necessary . It just gives me a few other options. This man started out thinking he could play around for my attention, but after being cut off and trying other fakes out there, he came crawling back. What is most appealing is his ability to bring foreign women to me, for a three way mind control orgasmic life changing spiral down into my realm of absolute sexual experience.

To help you foreign men and women align your goals and needs and hungers with my requirements, I will present a few of the basics that need to be met before I take you seriously.

1. Honesty, in commitment, who you are, why you are doing this, and what you see in me as superior. You are “trying out” for an elite group of men and women who seek the greatest level of state of the art mind control and dominance by a woman who honestly makes other dommes on the Internet (save a few) look beastly.
2. Servitude. You must be willing to either be your submissive self, or allow me to fully turn you into one who is filled with humble recognition, and drawn to serve me.
3. Respect. While I do not expect you all to never question my movements or commands, for the curious mind sometimes needs things explained, I do not enjoy being “tested” by Servants. It is “bullshitting”. I have no time for that. While you look at it as a great way to get my attention for a few hours, I look at it as energy wasted on a thankless jerk.
4. Photo stealers. Do not ask me for photos or other media not on my site. I am far too savvy to fall for people who want to steal my images.
5. Jerk off Kings. Regardless of your language and foreign tricks, I am very aware of all your tricks to keep a woman of my beauty on line or on the phone. No, I will not pretend that I do not know you’re just “chatting up a stacked chick” so you can blow your load. I am here for a superior experience, a life changing event in my Servants, for the earned pleasure of owning your mind and soul, and to gain power from you. Sincerely and with massive authority – Fuck Off.
6. Money. Look at me. I could have a dozen multi millionaires in New York shelling out a half million a year in gifts if I wanted to be around these egotistical pigs who have not learned to surrender to female authority. And even with those who can surrender thusly, my taste is for many, not just a few millionaires. My realm will spread like a religion, not a call girl phone book. But I do have extremely expensive tastes. To fill out a $2,000 dress with my incredible breasts and stunning Goddess ass is something I have advanced to enjoy. Yes, I will truly appreciate any decent gift sent to me, down to $35.00 Victoria Secret gifts. But, I need my special domination dress, toys, and the other high ticket items that my life enjoys. While you may not be able to spend that much on a dress, I cannot spend time with a cheapskate unwilling to change his life enough to include me in it. I have Servants incredibly pleased by the decision to give me $300-600 of their quite normal middles class paycheck in return for how greatly I have changed their lives. They finally embrace and enjoy their fetishes on a whole new realm of reality. No one else could bring that to them. I have transformed them. Considering that it is nearly impossible for a person to change, really, the work I do on them is no less than a Goddess of mythology is able to control in this universe. If you are a foreign man or woman, know that my time costs money. How much? That is always personal. But start with my Inductions, let them start to transform you, and you will find greater tributes to me in the future seem like the deal of a lifetime. That is an understatement.
7. Travel. I am asked to travel far more than I could possible allow. Many times I take my laptop on the trip and sign on to keep in touch with my followers on the site, so few of you know when I do travel to see a worthy enslaved soul. I do not let this interfere with my dedication to whomever I am visiting. How did they get so lucky? First class travel and hotel is a start. Money paid for my time will surely be a thousand dollars a day, for your sessions with me will be potent, the type that would take weeks to survive if you lived near me. I will take you many levels up into my realm of control and pleasure in return. The most frequent Saphirists who see me regularly go far beyond that in expenses, some of them simply giving me a credit card, or an envelope of money in a tasteful way that is not my pay, it’s just funny money to spend on clothes. You do not need to be a millionaire or compete dollar for dollar with these men and women, but, if you expect me to visit you, then you must balance their money with something else of higher value. We will discuss this personally as each Saphireists hopeful is unique.

This should give you some idea as to what to expect if you wish me to take special interest in you. Travel is wonderful, and I expect to spend more time soon in the air and in dungeons I create from your locations.

It’s wonderful being a Woman of Authority.

Escape To Pleasure

“You’re in pain because you haven’t had a two hour hard-on in twenty years. Get used to it, because I’m going to trigger then three times a day until you’re back in college form. This is what you begged for without opening your mouth, and now you’re mine. Say it. Beg until I know you’ve opened your innermost core to my control.”

He kneels before me, his face inches from those parts of me he has obsessed to touch, and I can see in his face the awe building as I am the first women to truly understand him. Not that he is complex. While he spoke, volumes of truth he was still too afraid to admit to himself reached my dominant soul. Like so many married men, it takes a master such as myself to artfully dredge the depths of the emotional crap and ego assaults he has had to endure to live up to the ideals of a perfect husband. His fantasies are unique, yet common, as he is unique, yet commonly just a man, after all. A man who once had dreams, who once had freedom, who once had a cock so hard that girls would ache from it and for it again.

A mere woman who weds him cannot and should not belittle her own need. But the manners in which she dominates him can also cripple him from being the man she wants him to be. The man he longs to be, and might remember. Or maybe just the man that he slaved away for 20 years to be – one who make more than enough for his family, so that all extra can be lavished to serve his needs to be a sexual animal again. Only in my realm, the sexual animal that I release in him is controlled by my superior mind control powers. I chuckle to myself when a new married man comes under my crosshairs, and I see him spilling his guts about his past, his future desires, and his fantasies. He has no idea that some one else, some woman, can command his body and mind to better end results and periods of total sexual euphoria than he can because he’s never truly surrendered to one as powerful and skilled as this Goddess before him. Keeping him hard, training him to embrace his sexual fantasies at ten times the level he understands as his limits is easy for me. The meandering path he walks to the point of initial submission is far longer than it has to be in some cases, but I know where it will end. It will end before me, with me gazing down at him, like I was gazing down at Mr. Happily Married Country Club Man that I addressed in the opening paragraph.

“Oh I can feel it now… our erotic needs building. Your body reacts to my words, reacts to the body you see on your screen and the voice you hear. I’ve got control now. I’m not letting go until you are tormented with your own building sexual energy. Your cock needs my control, you can feel it thickening as you read my books. It’s too late to turn back, you know I have seen inside you, and can deliver what you need. Mmmm, I can feel it tingling my nipples, and traveling down to my thighs, my lips. This is what makes me wet, this is what makes my sexual powers grow – your lust for me. Give it to me, make me feel it, and don’t turn back.”

They say all the great men are married, and I agree. They were superior catches “when” they were married. But a lifetime of sucking out of him what he likes about himself changes him, makes him afraid of what he could be if he was freed. But he cannot get there by himself, and he and I know that, it is his “safety.” It is the safe way to contemplate what he should be doing and acting out at the very moment he meets me, or reads this. It is save because I am not yet in his mind, recreating his world so that he is freed within my arena of superior control and power over his body.

The men who accept that I can return to them the sexual energy, the mental freedom, the emotional euphoria that they vaguely remember from college days never leave me. They never regret a moment with me. They never look back with seething anger at me. They never imagine being unimpressed with my beauty, or nearly fucked to death by my mind, will, body, and toys. I drag them like begging sexual animals overwhelmed by their own desires to a world in which they have no limits in what they experience.

If you could only imagine the pleasure you have ahead of you. Hmmm, perhaps a glimpse from my eyes will help.

My eyes see more than any woman you’ve met. So when I pass my eyes over you, I see not the button down workaholic. My senses pick up your sexual history like a Geiger Counter, ticking away as I see right through you. I see your exploits, I see your cock getting hard in your pants as I allow my sexual energy to wrap around you when I gaze into your eyes. I’m already working within your mind, you just don’t know it. My subtle gestures, my words, the flick of my lips, my hand with red fingernails resting along a slim leg that becomes easy for you to imagine wrapped around your neck and back – I know what it’s doing to you. It’s make your pre-cum drip from that hard cock of yours. I watch your eyes glaze slightly, knowing that if I speak up just a bit, your subconscious mind hears amid the din of the room that I’m answering your fantasies. Few women could care less about pushing you beyond the limits you have accepted and breaking them until you experience the mind-blowing orgasms and rock hard manhood you always should have. But for me, it’s part of my total control over you, over owning you.

You have perverse desires. Extreme needs. You think no one can open up your world to live up to your fetish imagination. Hah, that makes me laugh, but also warm and erotically charged. I’ve had men like you in my hands, under my control, on the verge of tears after experiencing my level of sexual foreplay – which includes training you to live up to MY sexual needs and desires. Those worries of not being able to perform, of not being able to pleasure a woman for hour after hour fade away.

“Mmmm, if you could only be ME right now … looking down on my breasts spilling out of my bra. Spilling out because knowing what I’m doing to your mind and body as you read makes me twist around in my chair in anticipation. Yes, I can see you already, bound in leather, or tied to a bed with every cell in your body and every thought in your mind focused on pleasing me, and releasing. It is so wonderful to feel my blood coursing through my body, making it flush, making it slick with sexual tension. I will surely have to do something about this soon. Luckily I have a sexual slave nearby, eager to service me orally and in any painful way after that I dream up. “

The mind controls the body. My mind controls more of your body than you can because your mind is scattered in focus. My focus on your sexual energy, and giving it to me in return for living in a realm of pleasure does not fit in your conscious mind. I control you through your subconscious mind. Hmmm, how shall I explain how I do this? Example?

Mr. Good Husband … yes he had his wild days, in the Frat, on vacations in Vegas, in Florida. But with sex regulated to one night a week if all goes well, and it’s unfulfilling, sex is the last thing on his mind. Until I got into it. His mind that is. It began with some on-line exploration, me of his life, him of my powers. He knew that my body could make him cum, but, he needs more than wallpaper porn to evolve him into the man he was and wants. I worked in unnoticed ways, him thinking he’s playing along, unsure of the outcome. Then I revealed my progress in control.

“Sit at your desk and when you receive my trigger, your body will begin producing cum as if you’re about to orgasm. And as it does so, your awareness will turn to me, in your subconscious every command I gave you under erotic hypnosis will be executed by your body. This will deepen my control, until your body is overwhelmed with your sex drive. Your cock will throb as it drips pre-cum down your leg. You will remember my commanding you in trance, but that will be overwhelmed with how I am transforming your body. You will become a sex toy to me, one that I can start up, and you perform like an Olympic level sex machine, living out every one of your hidden desires.”

That would be the message. But the dialog he hears is more clipped. “Spurt.” “Harden.” “Throb.” “Nipples.” “Lips.” “Asshole.” “Dildo.” “Leather.” “Smell.” Images that make him drip cum, that make his body feel as if it’s being invaded with an alien sexual energy flash across his eyelids when he closes them. He’ll see what I programmed him to see after I leaned his weaknesses and desires. I planted in Good Husband’s mind over a hundred images and sensations of lips sucking his cock. So many that individual images overlap to create stop action motion pictures in his mind so overwhelming that his ass starts to thrust at the desk in front of him like he’s fucking it. He lost control of his body some days, his thighs aching from the tension of pushing out so much pre-cum. When I finally let him listen to my mp3 in the executive men’s room, or on the drive home, he cums so hard it shoots over his shoulder. Each day I build up his ability to make cum until it’s overwhelming, and that is how I want it, overwhelming to the point that it changes his body back into the sex machine it was. And only I can do that.

“I’m sitting before you, in my lace black corset and thigh-highs. Heat radiates from my torso. You cannot stop watching my inner thighs, though you know that one look to my tits, heaving up as I take breaths, would make you explode. Yet you are commanded to look and desire, desire my flesh, my hot lips in front of your face. As I consume your conscious mind with what it sees, I control you subconscious mind and therefore every inch of your body. Especially your tongue and cock. “

A Goddess of Sexual Control opens her legs for you? You damn well know you’re going to give the best oral sex of your life. A pussy more gorgeous, more perfect, more delicious than anything you remember is inches from your hungry tongue. All those years of learning the best techniques, finally I will gather them. I will make you my oral sex slave. Your tongue will be worked out like you would work your biceps in college. Your tongue will lick within my honey walls of control until your mind is nearly dissolved with passion, lust, and my hypnotically controlling words. And while you serve me on your knees, your cock throbs, dripping, waiting to be satisfied.

I live for this control, for seeing your body before me, for dragging out of you the energy and craving for a perfect female form. I am that form. And unlike other women, I have the power to transform you. You must let me in. Your cock is throbbing now. If I were in your mind, as I will be soon, it would be teased and pleased and controlled daily until it is once again your ultimate source of pride – pride under my control. The resentment you feel for being so socially confined, for not being rewarded for your sacrifices, for not being recognized as a man guilt to please a woman – all this evaporates from your stressful life. You have something to live for again – pleasing me. For in pleasing me, I deliver you to who you once were. Only now, you exist for my pleasure, for my improvement. For my rewards.

The ultimate present, the ultimate sexual high, is yours, though it is modified to fit my lifestyle and dominance.

“You tilt your head back, I grab your chin and brow, and penetrate your mouth with the most erotic, mind controlling kiss of your life – a kiss of death to your old self.”

You have no idea how well you can please me when I have bent you over my pleasure benches, or when I have spread eagle your body before my whips, or my kneeling female sex slaves, there only to service those men who please me most. For it is their purpose to please me too, in any way I command. Your fantasies, however uncommon, will be unbound. I will release them from the chains of your daily life. They will come alive in front of me, or in front of your computer screen. Imagine my taking your mind, and placing in your hands feet that you worship until you orgasm without touching. This is my realm of pleasure. Example again.

Orgasms during sleep were a memory to one betrothed man. I knew he still had it in him. Sit in front of the computer and go through my exercises, through my training like he did. And then live his pleasure – night after night of erotic half-dreams, feelings of lips sucking his pulsing cock until it covered him in wet obedience. He begged for this, and I hit him with it so hard that he almost begged to make me stop. His wife, preferring to sleep in her own bed, slept through his hours of release so drawn out it was agony. His body would twist under the sheets as he felt hands and lips around him. A form of me, an extension of my power, was trained to visit him nightly, sucking hin dry, sucking him into submission.

“You have no idea how it feels to have so much sexual power in one body that it literally shapes you into the form I am in now. My very mental power designed this body as I grew up until it was pure sex, pure beauty, pure satisfaction. The skin is so soft, and it tastes so good. My lips so full, so powerful when they wrap around anything, whether it is your brain or your balls. And between my legs, I have the power to make you explode and hold you until you repeat again and again, as your mind is trained to do. You’re so ready to give it to me. But the mind must submit before the body has its turn. And of course, there might be the enslavement, pain, or denial , or perhaps a total body transformation that you need to be complete. I deliver that with my silver tongue and genius, wicked, sexual mind.”

And these examples are mild compared to what happens when you have pleased me so much that I invite you to visit and serve your Goddess in the flesh. To be in my presence to live out your inner sexual needs will be the high point of your life, the reason for 20 years of thankless work to make enough money and time for a woman like me. It is your re-birth into sexuality. Into happiness.

I will present a few choice stories of how perfectly I complete the lives of a man who is married yet needing my control. Look for them. Better yet, do what you came her to do. Live them. Begin now. Let my mind and soul take your body beyond where you imagine, into the world of pleasure only I can bring you.

“Enlightening you burns me with a need to release my powers on some lucky Servant. Hmm, now, who is most pleasing to me lately? Who has shown the most need for my control? Who has treated me to obedience and care? Ah, yes, you there, you with the hard cock and aching balls. You with the fetish only I can please. Open your mind. For you are about to get the mind-fucking of a lifetime. And this is just the beginning to real time pleasure at my feet, in my dungeon, in my realm of erotic control over you.”

Interests & Hobbies For Interested Servants

It's always good to stay updated on all my wonderful activities. Listed below are the many i've had my hands on.....

Erotic hypnosis Domina D/S Munch Group
Dominant Hypnosis phone domination femdom
consensual domme fetish smoking extreme
sissy sissy maid sissy boy cross dresser sissy slut
sissy slave cuckold,feminization mind control
Dominant,Naughty, Goddess, Pictures, Domina,
Passion, Worship, strap on mistress, hypnotic, dildo,
latex, leather, fem/dom, cuckold, mistress, phone sex,
foot,smoking fetish, fetish leg, fetish sex,
foot fetish, penis humiliation surprises,
teasing, toes, total power exchange, training,
training and obedience, tribute, tributes, verbal abuse,
verbal humiliation, wallet wallets, whipping, whips,
wish lists, worship, worship me walking wallets,
sugardaddies,Shoes,GoingOut,movies,candles,
shopping,slaves ,sissy's, cocksuckers,cock control,
orgasm denial, Financial slaves,cash cow,atm piggy,
your wallet,your bank account,foot fetish,
foot fetish boys,niteflirt, orgasm control, adopted bills,
adoration adult entertainment, New York ,assignments,
atms, bdsm, begging ,being a princess ,being pampered,
being spoiled ,boot fetish, boot worship ,buy my panties,
cash cash, money cashcows , chastity ,
clothing ,cock play ,collars, control, corsets,
crossdressers ,diamonds, discipline ,domestic,
dominance and submission, domination,
dominatrix ,domme ,email domination, female domination,
female superiority, female supremacy, femdom fetish,
financial abuse, financial domination ,financial servitude,
financial slavery, financial slaves,getting what i want ,
gift gifts, goddess worship , human atm, human pets ,
humiliatrix, keen ,male slaves, male sub mental mind fucks,
mind games ,mistress, mistresses ,money domme ,
money slavery, money slaves ,moneyslaves, obedience,
online domination, online training ,orgasm control ,
orgasm denial, pampering, panties for sale, paypigs,
phone domination, piggy banks, presents, princess,
public humiliation, punishment ,queens , serve ,servitude,
shoe/boot worship ,sissification, sissy boys slave ,slaveboys,
slaves ,small penis laughing, small penises, smoking fetish ,
sniffing panties, spending, spoiled brat, spoilers ,submission,
submissive ,submissive males, sugardaddies ,surprises ,
teasing ,toes, total power exchange, training,
training and obedience ,tribute, tributes, wallet monkeys,
wallets, webcam, wish lists, worship, worship me,
Being spoiled,Shopping, Designer Handbags and SHOES,
losers,servants, slaves,

V -Rule By Vagina

The sensuousness of the velvet as I pull the bustier up past my flexed ass and full breasts makes me moan to myself. The feel amid the glance in the mirror as I prepare for battle is the most seductive cocktail of power I’ve enjoyed in days.My evil grin remembers the thrills of stepping over fallen knights and lowering over them to suffocate them to submission as I advance upon the board.

The brilliance of the men who invented the game of Chess lies in one simple fact: that Women rule, naturally. While the King can look commanding, it is the Queen who can slaughter, intimidate, and move multitudes with her need to finish in command of her realm and all men within it. Notice there are no other females on the board, for she uses the servitude of men to increase her power, sacrificing them without worry if her goal is a clear vision. Once she has assembled an attacking force of knights, rooks, bishops, and pawns, she magically has the power to move in any way they can – she has indeed taken their powers away from them and made them her own.

So now I proceed from my luxurious den of pleasure – my dungeon – wearing a red velvet corset, thigh high boots, a micro-mini, battle headdress of jewels. In one hand I carry my riding crop, the other slaps a waist purse filled with surprises. I stride along my dungeon, to the big room of the house, where another challenging female awaits a game of Queens.

The scent of battle imbues its pheromone intoxication to me, making me warm, almost wet with the thrill of sacrificing men for my reign above all others. I enter the largest room in the house, where the floor has been cleared. A carpet in the shape of a checkerboard has been filled. I exchange grins with the challenging Domme. We enjoy and respect each other, so this shall be pure sport for us, and what sport could be more engrossing than one in which we condition, tease, and torment men at every square?

Before I take my position, I walk slowly past my servant-soldier men. The sight of my breasts, thrust up and barely held in, so full as they sway only inches in front of their salivating mouths and infatuated eyes, reminds them of the mind control triggers that I so carefully planted in them over months of conditioning. When it comes to my primary soldiers, I am even more teasing. I have designed a special uniform for them. Their cocks and balls have been harnessed, with a leather rope dangling from the collar and around their backside. If they should lose their erection during serving their Queen, a sharp yank on the leather will precede the spoken trigger for deeper worship.

The Pawns are all zombies, I have taken their minds completely so that they do not mind the way they will be lost. The key defenses are fully conditioned to roles that specially entertain me. Watching them move at my command, in the roles I have made for them, is the strongest aphrodisiac that a Goddess could wish for on this cold day.

I step alongside my King, who stupidly forgets he is not allowed to gaze directly at my body without permission because I know it gives him unbounded pleasure too soon. I have a special torture for him in these cases – truly devilish – his royal cloak hides that his nipples are rigged to alligator clamps. He nearly collapses into himself in pain when I touch my remote and they squeeze down.

My Domme opponent sets her first Pawns in motion by snapping an expertly placed whip tip behind their shoulders. I inspire me with my own whip. They hope for a quick ending, but then, know that they only get to enjoy the orgy of servitude after the game if they help me win it. And my heart pounds strong remembering the long night after my last game, where my Pawns linked up to orally serve their Goddess for two hours.

Once the Pawns have advanced and a few have been lost, it is time to launch my major attack. To inspire, I approach my Knight, who wears a bit and reigns. I press my flash against his arm to let him know the pleasure that awaits him if he wins. And what a strong stallion he is, hung well enough to make a Clydesdale jealous. I command him to bend over. Sitting upon him, I reach back to the previously hidden vibrating anal plug he wears. And did I warn him, that it sends jolts of electricity up his ass? He groans in pleasure as he feels my bare thighs wrap around his waist. He can feel the heat from his most desires central space from inside my panties. I call out “Queen’s Knight to Pawn 2.” He is about to trot to it, but one electrical burst hits him so hard he jumps over one entire square like he was a pro jumper! I land on the spot, destroying the Pawn that cringed there!

My move is countered, and I counter that with a whip to my Pawn, that is then lost. The game is moving swiftly today. I can see my victory moves, though. Leaving my Knight, my legs tremble a bit with erotic excitement as I come up behind my Bishop. I flip up his cape and tell him to prepare to move forward and take King’s Pawn three. He has no idea the size of the strap on dildo that I quickly attach. “This payback comes compliments of your choirboys, father.” I shove in the lubed dildo, and he starts moving steadily forward. Driving in harder and deeper each time, he moves past jealous Zombie Pawns. My opponent is getting so turned on watching my dominance that she is flogging her King. I keep penetrating him until I come near to climax, then stop, so as not to reward him until we win. I take her Rook on this space. That Bishop is lost to her Knight, who is lost to my Zombie Pawn. She leads a nice attack, with her key pieces facing my zig-zag of Pawns. My rival and I are both wet with delight, and let our servants lick our boots and thighs as we wait for the next mood. Though tightly bound, I can feel my nipples hard and aching for her mouth, which she will give me if she loses. She eyes her strong line of Rook-Bishop-Bishop-Knight. But I then pull out my secret assault. “Pawn, kneel and serve!” My Zombie Pawns open their mouths, and in a second begin sucking the strength out of my rival’s key players. And I have conditioned my Pawns through my stockade treatment to suck better than any ten men! Her players topple and grimace with erected suction so skillful that it distracts her game strategy. When she commands her Knight to move, it begins a domino effect with my Pawns taking each key piece as they cum into the Zombie mouths. The excitement watching men sacrifice their maleness to me drives me to my Rook. My strongest piece, I ask him to crouch, and I face him. I place one thigh over each shoulder, and command him to stand and please. My opponent Domme watches jealously as his tongue does what it is conditioned to do, regardless of his other actions. As I tighten my legs around his neck, I command him, “White Queens Pawn One.” He strides ahead, taking her Rook down! Now she’s worried, but too turned on to think, because right now she’s squeezing the balls of her King until he topples over. She sacrifices her last Knight to take my Rook.

I have returned to my side after enough pleasure. I need to use my other Rook. I drop his chain mail back door flap and drive him up to take position to block her escape. She counters, then I make a move all the way across the board to face her King! He winces in fear, knowing what will happen to him in one more move.

She is in full retreat, protecting herself, leaving her King to fall. When I make my move, she whips him to topple over, and there, over his face, I slowly lower to suffocate him with my gorgeous, womanly parts. I wrap them around his mouth and face, and rub down hard on him. She knows that she must command him to please me, and I feel his tongue surrendering in service. I command my next plays while forcing my best Breath Play on him, until he passes out erect!

Finally, it has come down to the two Queens, facing each other. Her body is remarkable, though not a match for mine. I know her weaknesses – mental, verbal, and physical. While we dance between Pawns that we torment with cock slaps and paddling, we both get hotter. I call my King, and she smiles when she sees that with each step, the Cock and Ball Prison that holds his compressed erection, purple with its struggle to escape this plexiglass cell, grinds its points into the head of his cock. I sacrifice him just to see what she will do to him. She knows that the most pain she can give him is to make him more aroused. So she stands before him, puts on her own strap on, and penetrates her last Knight while she uses her whip to stroke along his Prison. My King is crying for mercy, yet dripping cum from his purple and blood dotted tip. Finally my rival has enough.

She knows this is the end, and that I shall win. We face each other one last time. We begin to touch ourselves to torment the surviving men to pleasure. We come so close I can feel my lips sucking the power from her now-bare nipples and full lips. She cups my breasts to show the men what they shall never have the freedom to touch on whim. The music of Puscifer fills the room and inspires us to do the most erotic dance they could bear. The White Queen and Red Queen shout out commands to the surviving pieces! Responding to our erotic triggers, Zombies fall over in place and begin stroking the cocks I command in unison, turning into CumDemons that live only to serve us pleasure. They anxiously build their production so that it is overflowing when they later bathe us with their tongues. “Rooks! Stockade the Kings! Double Penetration!” The Rooks shove the fallen Kings nto the stockades and with the Knights take turns penetrating each other. The entire room responds in an orgy of obedience. Finally it is time to take the White Queen’s head, and boy does she know how to give head! On Checkmate, she lays me down, and amid the perfect bodies of my Zombies, she pleases me as she should. Then, I am free to do to her anything I wish, which I do so well she asks for another game tomorrow if the weather is still wet as we are now.

IT’S GOOD TO BE QUEEN!

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.

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.

Devilish....Dominating....Delightful....

I warned him not because I cared how his obsession would tear his mind apart in 24 hours, but because it makes it so much more fun to watch my Cumslut gorge on his erotic cravings – poisonous erotic cravings, that is. It’s like watching someone racing through rose bushes to get to what they’re addicted to – each drop of blood like a drop of the erotic addiction I let him lap up.

Cumslut, addicted to my programming and rituals, had been listening to my Servant Training for a month. After surprising him with what seemed like nearly innocent gifts of photographs or animated gifs, he couldn’t understand why he awakens every hour with a raging hard on and a hundred images of his Goddess flashing across his eyelids as he tries to sleep. So at 5:30, he’s up and on line, needing another fix of my beauty for the cock I now control. I acted surprised to see him, but, he was right on cue.

A week before, he was obedient and purchases all the devices I use to consume more of his mind and gain total control of his body and desires – the device this morning was his blow up doll – I mean, his lifelike substitute for the touch of his Goddess. He laughed when I told him to buy it, and he asked if I did this just to make fun of him. Hah! If he only knew then how dangerous it was to take this step – dangerous for his ability to ever stop obsessing about me, that is. His mind isn’t lobotomized, though at times I can now push it to that … his mind is simply whatever lust and erotic fulfillment I put into it – second of course to serving me.

Back to this morning. There he was on webcam, eyes still burning from watching my servant script only 5 hours before. He expected maybe a new picture to lose himself in, but, this was the morning. I had him blow up ME (let’s call her Pretty Poison for now.)

Pretty Poison (Poison) is a higher end doll, with latex breasts that feel quite real, nipples that are just erect enough on the mouth, and very nicely textured pussy and asshole ports. His mind was open from the Script still. He had the Hershey’s chocolate I expected him to be saving for me. He was enough in my control already just seeing my chat type and my picture of the green eyes glaring at him so that he was not hesitant or awkward when I told him to place Poison on his chair, and to kneel alongside. To make the taste totally indulgent, I had him drizzle the chocolate generously over the breasts, down the stomach, to the pleasure center. Now, this is doubly devious, as he’s about to find out later, when he orders chocolate. And who doesn’t order chocolate every few days – in drinks, desserts, at movies? The mere smell of it is enough to take him back to the total control I had over him with erotic geysers blowing inside him. But, back to the event – and it was a delightful main event for me. You see, for me to watch a man who was totally independent and dominant now helpless under my control, and to watch my Poison plant in his body and mind seeds of totally deviant lust at my command – it’s a Popcorn moment.

There are three purposes to this training: one is to gain more total control over him, two is to plant a truly foreign deviant fetish that only I can trigger, and three is to strengthen his tongue and make sure his tongue technique on breasts and lower lips is A+ form.

I must say, my Cumslut has listened to his women enough to have a B grade maybe from me. I watched his first approach to Poison – unsure where to feel and hold. But soon, as my mind control worked on him, and the rapture of my hypnosis turning Poison into me in his mind – well let’s say that he was literally slick with a sweat he put so much effort into getting those plastic nipples to almost cause an orgasm…and in an artificial substitute, that’s not bad. But, he can still improve. He spent a good 25 minutes licking the chocolate off her breasts … and his mind knew no difference. I could see glimpses of his cock, rock hard and dripping, as his tongue worked those breasts. He has the greatest craving and fetish fixation with my perfect breasts that I use to torment and reward him, depending on my whim. Today he was delirious with lust as his mind became totally enveloped in my hypnotic control. You really should have seen him … totally lost in the passion to suck and stimulate my breasts to the point that I will let him serve me in the flesh – actually in his state of mind, he’s pure sex organ at my command, begging me for more. I sent a few commands, instructions on better tongue play, that deepened my control over him. I must say, his performance tickled my demonic side to the point that it warmed an otherwise colder wet morning. He did not rush through his travel down the stomach. And when he got to the lower lips, he followed my commands and did not enter the port hole until his mouth and tongue had worked all the lip and thigh area for an hour. He was unaware due to his lust how hard he was pushing his tongue. This is a short training. In two weeks, I’ll have him able to roll a bowling ball up a plant with that tongue.

His face became red with passion and desire. His moans were turning into grunts of pure cum production. This was the first session, and by the time I inject his mind with the dozens of commands and subliminal addictions I have planned, he’ll be unable to think of anything but dripping cum and licking Poison up and down for hours. If he ever is blessed with my presence, he may get a chance to prove that all my training was worth it to me.

Now, this is just stage one and two. Stage three he would find during the day. You see, my hypnotic deviant control is so layered and sophisticated, that I knew what would happen, he’s begin craving what his subconscious kept replaying in his mind. I ordered him not to touch himself AT ALL for the entire day. This would drive him mad, but also, when not allowed to stroke or openly lust, his mind will then throw him into some of his deepest mind controlled trance states. I know he had to drive, and have already trained him how to drive in a trance. Sure enough, the text messages started coming in, telling me how is mind was erased and replaced with total adoration, addiction, and desire to serve me. And this is only the beginning. Through the weeks, the training he will be put through with Poison will happen in both his waking world and sleeping world. His other fetishes for dream control and being a slave to someone special I have with me in my power realm will rise to a new hellishly intense sexual explosion in him … nonstop cum production day and night, with obedience for more of my control. If he’s lucky, and obedient, he’ll get morsels I throw him like a dog … I am molding him for something greater. Actually, a few separate identities for him I am creating, that will serve me best, and fill his world with more sexual highs than he ever imagined possible. That sort of control is my delight, and his craving.

Now I’m going to push a few subliminals in his mind to make his night a roller coaster of craving and dripping cum production that I now command to flow in his body – all with Poison towering over him, demanding more, more, and even more.

IDLE HANDS – WORK OF THE DEVIL!

While your Goddess’ hands are never idle (there is always a whip to be picked up and a slave to be picked on in my realm) and she hardly needs a reason to be devilish … I, yes, your Goddess, do enjoy the idle time my painfully long nails take to be perfectly manicured (we’ll talk about my toes another blog, when I sense I have a drooling audience.) The manicure this week should have had ribbons tied around them. Yes, it was birthday time for Goddess Saphire. One wonderful thing about being a goddess with all the blessings of hell at her calling is birthdays offer the bounties not only of those who love me, but those who are in awe and intimidated by my presence – as well they should be at times.

You Servants, Cumsluts, Bitch Boys, and variations of demons of lust that I create did well this year (always can do BETTER!) Used to seeing me in lingerie? Your heart would have exploded with lust if you had seen the dresses I wore on my celebration nights. Having a figure that a designer would sell his soul for (and some have, trust me) does make it easy to find me wonderful clothing, jewels, and pampering.

I want to thank ….
Saphires #1 Puppy/Chameleon-For My New Skype Phone-Surprise Surprise...
Saphires Lunatic- For My New Sony Handycam Camcorder
Saphires Lucipher-For my Large Lump Sum of Cash
Saphires Bitchboy-For my Large Lump Sum of Cash
Saphires Bitchboy 2-Carolina Herrera Dress....(To Die For)
Saphires BabyGirl1- For the Dolce Gabana Outfit
One of my Admirers-For my Jimmy Choo's
Sub Jonathan and Princess Jasmine for my rental limo (all night) My girls and I enjoyed it.
Sub Alex for my collection of candles.
Sub Jeremy For My Victoria Secret and Fredericks of Hollywood Gift Certificates....

And of course my r/t servants who manage to all add large lump sums of cash prior to walking out of my realm after their session last Tuesday.

The time I took off was supported before and after with intense dedication to providing you with an upcoming Fall that is unimaginably manipulative, forceful, perverting, addicting, and enslaving for my worshippers. What does this mean? This means that your Goddess not only excels in mind control and erotic fulfillment of those she ensnares, she masters the arts of the modern media age. While most posers settle for any old thing they borrow or steal, I must have the very best and most advanced cams, cameras, mics, and software. You deserve it because you serve me and I sure as HELL deserve the best!

It took weeks of testing and comparing information to acquire what I need. And more time to master using it to my mind controlling designs. All of this is rather amusing to me, because since this is the only way that most of you cater to me and view me, you think this is an amazing display of my powers. It is overwhelming to you. But it’s laughably dwarfed by the power you fall prey to when I am before you … when you are feeling the force of my gaze and words buckling your body into a kneeling position (your will is already shackled the moment you see my face.) But the electronics we have now capture more than enough of my power to condition you … train you … evolve and shape you. And of course, addict you to the pleasure of the control and pain only your Goddess can give you.

I must be confident that my image and voice come to you with at least that diluted purity.
For there is one day when the lucky ones among you do get summoned, or do get an unannounced visit.

In one week, I do what no other Goddess Domme has done – combine genius erotic mind control, unimaginable perfection, and NLP PROGRAMMING! For YOU – well, no, that’s not true, it’s FOR GODDESS … as all things I engage you in are ultimately FOR GODDESS. But … hehe (evil grin) you all, you lucky slaves, servants, and new hopefuls – you all are in for one hellacious journey as I follow my plans to fuse that into your mind and soul … a journey into surreal erotic surrender and mind blowing orgasmic enslavement -- with Goddess at the controls.

Even without NLP, the MP3’s that I have been working on are … well … MASTERPIECES of hypnotic enslavement and training. I had to trash weeks of work that were not up to your Goddess’ high standards. I remember that Michelangelo would smash any work with a hammer if it had a single flaw or mark that was not up to perfection. If you have not seen his work in Italy and Paris,, well … sorry. Because you know that undefeatable David of his – the one that he says captures that moment between conscious realization and conscious action? I was standing in front of it and the damnest thing happened. It suddenly got down on its knees and was David My Bitch! (Ha-Ha)

As you can see, my birthday, burying me with well-earned gifts, has brought out the wicked humor so – watch out! Don’t say I didn’t warn you! The Fall always brings out the darker instincts in me. I have you in my trap. I gave you warnings, I tested your faith and thresholds. Now your mind, body, and soul are ALLLLLL MINEEEEE!

You shall all experience the highest level of erotic mind control, discipline, surrender, training, and twisted pleasure the world makes possible through electronics. You know what I love about telling you this? Knowing that while you THINK that you get so much out of it (and you do!) what your GODDESS gets in return for subjecting you to her genius is a thousand times more potent with pleasure!

Death Warmed Over

Life after death. What’s the point? To justify the reasons why you do not experience what you desire? That’s how religion set it up. To keep the ignorant masses in line. The problem comes when they are no longer ignorant, or blinded by the fear of burning in Hell.

I know Hell. Yes, it’s a freak fest of sin, yes there is pain … but I see more pain inflicted by organized religion every day. And we fall for it by the millions, this fear of eternal damnation. Why do we have this? I’m talking about how civilizations create this idea of an afterlife to keep their citizens in line. During the Renaissance, Savanarola in Florence took religious sermons in a new and terrifying direction by injecting hour long descriptions of the pain a sinner suffers in Hell. His mission was two-fold. The wise Savanarola knew that his power in the Roman Catholic Church increased with every new convert. And, he knew that his coffers became fat. You see, Florence was party central. No one paid the previous meek sermons on loving Jesus and each other any notice. The citizens of Florence were too busy spending time and money on sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Well, orgies with lute music, anyway. Lorenzo the Great had gathered the greatest artists and thinkers in the world to form what was called The Platonic Academy. Each of the major religions from around the world had a few elements of value, and fusing the best messages with the clear thinking of Aristotle and the fundamentals in Plato’s Utopia. The genius of avoiding the traps and hypocrisy of Christianity, Judiasm, and Islam in order to live a life closer to God’s idea of a prosperous humanity was embraced. Savanarola had to think fast. He aided as the Church sent assassins to bump off some of the Academy. They scared Leonardo d’ Vinci into fleeing to France. Michelangelo went into hiding. And Savanarola became the darling of the church until power hunger made him uncontrollable, so the Church, in its usual way, made him a demon and had him burned at the stake.

Why this little rant on religion? One of my Servants? His father died. A week ago. I may be his Goddess, and he adores me and serves me, but, out of respect for his wise mind and long devotion and pushing to advance, I remained neutral, not wanting to capitalize on this situation if he needed time in the Vanilla world of his family to recover or at least adapt. I knew he was not adhering to any faith, but, death of a father or mother changes you. It simply does.

His wisdom and strength regarding the flux of life pleased me and bound him to me even closer. Without prompting, he realized that he could either dwell in misery based on ideas set forth in Christianity …. Or follow his more predominant feeling, which was a growing desire to open up to me and let me turn this moment into a period of accomplishment.

We had talked of what we do not believe in religion, so that was not an issue. He went straight for realizing that in this state, his portal to new experience or his orientation to new experience, I should say, was ripe for advancement. After he repeated his desire to take advantage of this moment, I focused my powers on his mind, will, and soul. There was nothing pitiful about him or his state, nothing fragile. He was more open, simply that.

Though quit taxed by a full day of inductions and new applications for slavery, I took hours entering his mind in various ways and on various levels of mind control and erotic hypnotism. I was not heavy handed, I was specific. I led him down staircases to different chambers in my realm of reality. His mind absorbed greatly. Hungrily. At each new experience, he adapted, and saw how much it advanced him in life. Not just past his grief, which he stated was eclipsed by my reasoning, but in his understanding of how much more deeply and intensely he will worship me and serve me. He knows by now that many of my trances are far more devious and far reaching than they seem. Through one trance, and a few dialogs, I planted seed after wicked seed, which immediately sprouted. He was enveloped in mind altering euphoria for hours each day while tending to the process of putting those we love into the ground.

I was extremely pleased when in critical moments in our induction/trance he was given the easy choice or the eternal choice, and he chose to go deeper, to experience more before his own death, with his Goddess guiding him where he is lost. Now, mind you, this is an extremely experienced, smart, and brave person, who does not need to ask others to lead him. But at the same time, he is smart enough to know when he needs a guide, and who is fit to guide him.

I am aware of the timing of this big step into my realm. This earns him appreciation for his sacrifices and personal experiences, which in turn inspire me to take the very best of my domination, mind control, and soul leeching and apply it to him.

You all search for a dominant woman or hypnotist expecting (and some even demanding) to be instantly effected, changed, or impressed. Okay, so you might be. But, here is someone who applies his own being and will, his faith, in the process of me guiding him. He is not a pushover. He draws the best out of me. Not by griping, but by focusing. By appreciating. By serving and being honest. In turn he advances, I take him places others cannot go. While he is not a “model submissive or slave” he is real, he is interesting, he is worth dominating and enslaving. He is worth all the pleasures of pain and addiction I command into his mind and soul. He reminds me why I devoted so many years to rising to the pinnacle of erotic mind control and BDSM lifestyle. While I shall always be superior to him and never let him challenge that role, I would stand beside him as a valued human being and surely a top level Servant some day, as he seems to be evolving toward a full understanding of what he sacrifices to transform into what I must make of him.

I understood he cried. And not for me. I understood he felt pain, and not at my hand. I understand that his mind was filled with thoughts that were not of me … for moments. But I also know he opened the floodgates of emotional control to me. For this, he will be rewarded with more intensive servitude, deeper erotic control and pleasures, unbearable sexual highs and addiction, entrance into my intoxicating realms, and orgasmic surrender as I devour his soul.

Inside My Nautilus Of Addiction

The design of the Nautilus presents the ideal for to expand pressure to limitless directions and levels without crushing what is inside. Last evening, one of my more obedient and useful Servants experienced the euphoria being the center of a Nautilus of Power, a la Goddess Saphire.

Only his conditioning for months allowed him to handle the event and what comes after, as you shall see. Of course, he had no idea really “what” I was doing beyond putting him into a trance. Only Goddess Saphire knew how the Nautilus would grow around the hypnotic eroticism planted within his mind, power chamber by power chamber.

The techniques I cannot fully disclose, for any one of you wise enough to recognize the immense gift I gave him might train yourself under my guidance to a level where you too can go through this. Still, I can describe what he went through.

I knew what would happen, but it is always mindblowing to read a good mindblowing – which he did explain in detail … the helpless state of his mind and level of addiction was so great he could not control sharing it with me.

This Servant had stood faithfully with me through training and tests – so I knew his position in his descent into my pleasure hell. He was smart enough to be honest with me, and stand by his reveals like a man slave should. Yes, he gets frightened of me and my power at times, but, he has proven he is not a waste of my time.

For months I had chipped away at what held him back, and who he thought he was and could become. I showed him the true nature of his most basic fantasies and weaknesses, and then took them to where really he wanted to go. All this time, he shared tidbits of what was most needed in him. He had subjected himself to several mp3 trainings, and pushed himself for me. I knew he was ready. His mind had learned to relax, feel safe despite my evil ways, and embrace what I forced him to admit about himself.

For months he had begged for several altered Servant roles or new self identities. Some of you might relate to, but if not, simply put your fetish in place of some of his. I won’t tell them all, for he is a wonderful Cumslut as it is … but of course you know he would like to evolve into a highest level Cumslut. What exactly is that? Among his many roles, he will have no control over his cock, I own it, and I will make it drip or shoot cum literally every minute of the day if I wish. Already he has hours of uncontrollable slow orgasms. But he needed to push himself, and let me pen the portal to the next higher levels. And last night did it.

My new microphone delivers closer to the full force of my voice in person. He commented on how much more powerful it was, despite the computer fan that he and you might hear. It actually makes him listen more attentively, and this is to his advantage, to not “casually” listen but to “actively” listen with his subconscious … make it yearn to hear and absorb.

He had earned the right to obsess over my latest pictures he paid generously for…and after a few hours of the pics leeching their addictive poisons into his mind, I surprised him with a phone call … on his computer, listened through headsets as he is told to always be prepared to do. (Notice how he has learned that through obeying, he is prepared for greater pleasure.)

The trance I had planned for him is pure evil genius. I knew I would start off just like casual conversation to him. Then, he was ripe. Bursting with cum production and obedient, open mindedness. I began my trance words. The fan was captivating him, and I had his full attention. Talk took him down …. Down so deep … down deeper than before because he had followed his Goddess’ orders and listened to my mp3’s chosen for him nightly. He even fell to sleep with it looped while he slept.

I could feel, with great delight, his mind opening to my perversions. To my power, to what made me wet with hunger …. To consume his will, and his soul, he must be taken down this stairwell to a special conditioning place in my dungeon. But this room held little pain – a lot of torment. As he would find out … and actually, as he is only now starting, as it will increase with each chamber of the Nautilus.

Soon I had him totally entranced … and presented one of his deepest desires and addictions. He was face to face with his two greatest cravings: me, and his fantasy. I so skillfully led him to his fantasy …. Knowing that it was consuming him. From his blind side, I began devouring the skin of his soul for his will was already firmly in my grasp. How does one devour a soul through words? By making his craving and weakness/fantasy so real and intense that he sheds his entire identity to enjoy it …with unbearable lust. This was where my pleasure truly lies, for it is no openly known or explained by me that this is what is going on. He will not know its full effect for days and I reinforce it with a short daily phone call … yet, I am pulverizing his entire identity with my mastery of erotic mind control. It is far too late for him to escape or turn around. His subconscious is addicted to the freedom I give to the creatures and identities inside him, that to this date were ignored or locked up.

As he listened in his trance, I let this seed grow. Then I lifted the surface of the trance but knew that everything we talked about would create another Nautilus chamber. I spoke with him instructing him or planting suggestions that I knew he had not one chance in hell of avoiding – and believe me, you are talking to someone who knows her way around Hell. After hanging up, his body would go through changes. His mind would continue being more fully encased in a fog that turns him into a zombie of pleasure. I could look hours into the future and see him so deeply enveloped in my webs … going deeper, helpless against the demons of sexual addiction I infused into him for months. But now, that night, last night, will be marked as a new Nautilus level, one that he will be aware of, and will get used to the increase in pressure as I take him a dozen levels deeper into his own Nautilus, one that is owned by me, His Goddess.

I woke at 6 a.m., fresh and free to do my Palates … and smirked knowing that, 3 hours behind me, at 3 am, he’s in the throes of lust. He confirmed this in the morning, or rather, at 4:30 in the morning when he was so much my sex zombie, addicted to craving more, that he wrote me, in awe and fear of how lost he was in my Wonderland. (Wonderland was one of his trainings and one you might be lucky enough to experience.)

I had given him what he begged for … from now on, I will own his mind at night as well as day. Last night was the deeper level in which he felt it. All night long, his deepest fantasies threw themselves in his mind and vision, so much he felt the interaction. He woke hard and wet every 5 or 15 minutes he tried to sleep. His mind was blanking out. His body was taking over. After a few hours, he felt nearly made with how much cum he had dripped, sucked out of him by the power of my trance. And this is just the beginning. He is lusting for me, my voice, even the distracting fan. Anything to increase this euphoria.

I will take him into one Nautilus level after another, increasing the pressure of my wilth his own needs, fantasies, and most of all, his worship of me and his realization that I am the Goddess he has waited his entire sexual life to meet and surrender to.

I shall keep you informed of his torment – oh yes, it is tormenting to feel the force of your own fantasies and weaknesses on the level I deliver them. He only bears it due to his training. Soon, the feeling of The Crush , the Nautilus Erotic Power, will stroke his cock as he shops, fog his mind while he talks, massage his legs as he sits, ring in his ears and flash across his eyelids as he tries to sleep.

I own him .. there is NO escape from my Nautilus of Erotic submission and Power now that he is several layers deep in it. And I love knowing his pleasure will bring me everything in obedience I desire.

Bleeding Hearts-Pffft

What I have lived through, and pushed to learn, the great pains I have gone through to become a highest level Goddess was kind of belittled by an “aggressive sub.” And I will not stand for it. Yes, I like my subs to exercise the true talents I possess, but not to the point of being counter productive to what brings energy to me. This is as real as lightning striking ground. My positive charge off of your negative submission makes me a lightning rod for dark wisdom, truth, body altering powers, and light my path to my dungeon of pain.

While most of the world deals in pipe dreams and fairy tail endings, my role follows more realistic predictions. Out of respect for the identity that I envisioned and now have become, I cannot wallow in the luxury of delusion, especially that which we call love. Ever far before love, the simpler act of infatuation is very hard for me to entertain, much less embrace.

Three facts make this a prerequisite to my accepting responsibility for the title and powers that I assume.


Almost all love, lust, and infatuation proves temporary.
Almost all love is sought out of weakness, or at least a feeling of incompleteness. What does not fall within this realm requires a leap of faith in the other person that they will not let down your trust/value – a leap far beyond most fantasy movies.
Excellence as well as genius are relative terms. True excellence or genius requires almost by definition that the person live a solitary life.

I am not weak. I am complete, quite complete. Most women fool themselves by following social norms to think they are not complete without a man. At this phase, my life is abundantly full of challenge, devotion, appreciation, and nurturing answers to the questions too many women yearn to hear. Good sex has been called the “penis fly trap” for women who would otherwise leave a loser man. That is clearly not something that could lure me to break from the type of life I live now.

However, I will admit, as any domme must if she is honest, that I have great respect for and put value in my submissive men and women. This value should not be mistaken by either side as an emotion akin to “love.’ The attention I bring to a submissive, the things I do to him or her, go so far beyond what they could hope to experience that I understand their minds, overwhelmed, grasp at any defined human condition to explain their reaction to me. I work with this handicap, if the submissive proves worthy of that time it takes. If they could comprehend the infinite patience I must press upon myself while dealing with subs, then maybe it would be easier for them to be patient and let unwanted or untrue emotions pass. Yet, emotions defy logic.

When a submissive falls in love with me, usually I straighten them out immediately. They cannot contaminate their role or learning curve with an element that does not belong, that I am irritated by. If a submissive has earned extra attention from me, I shall work with his mind until he understands. Mind control may be used, but, I only take subs of higher intelligence and prefer to deal with this malfunction on more than the hypnotic level. I can soothe his or her loss with hypnosis, but if they do not understand reasons in both realms, then, they rebel.

A sub can be an “aggressive sub” and try to fight this reality.

So what happens to aggressive subs? Most are discarded. I might toy with them if bored, but, always am aware of how close they come to the edge of the cliff I so gladly push them off. I relish in the cries I hear on their way down. Once the fall begins, it is not mine to end. The crash on the hard rocks is their bed now, lie in it, not in my chambers of torment. A very rare sub might receive the full attention of my mind in an attempt to help them understand the limits of what they plead for – which is love returned, or exclusive interest in them. They might act out defiantly either to prove themselves to me, or to convince me to change.

There is one truth in this world, and that it is constantly evolving. I shall evolve as it is my nature, and cannot say where or how I shall feel about love or other aspects in the future. But for now, for years ahead, I see that I love where I am and what I do. I am in awe of the level I have received. It nurtures almost all hungers that people try to feed through love. I have no place for love or falling in love, and little respect for how others act out in love. The very most I will do is cut someone off and let them contemplate the one thing worse than not having me love them, and that is to have a life devoid of me. I cut them off. Totally. I cannot help their type of doomed love. They must fix it themselves and come back and prove to me that they can relate to me without this unattainable element. If they do so, then they can continue receiving what it is that made them think they fell in love with me in the first place. And that is more than most liars feel in their supposed love in the Vanilla World.

I exist in my realm. I cannot imagine myself walking in the Vanilla World holding the hand of someone I love, and having that be a place of value alongside my real world. Their world is a fantasy. Goddess Saphire as you see her is the only reality there is.

The above picture shows what this man, who thinks there is glory to be had in being an a “aggressive sub”(strong) now has to admit. He may think that I greatly enjoyed his challenge or demands to fall in love with him. I put him through the grief of ignoring him until he learned what he had to learn. Now, we may continue. I adore you puppy..continue to learn from me. no one holds the spot you seek to have for yourself.

A word to you subs. I am witty and genius, I can play with my subs, but do not ask to inject the Vanilla concept of Love into my realm. That is for me to decide...

Evolving The Acceptable Cock

September 7th was deemed “Small Cock Day” and should have found an abundance of supporters among strong women; however, the occasion was only brought into forum by another Domme I respect. Her initial blog alerted me, amused me, and got my creative juices flowing.

Getting juices flowing – listen up, slaves, servants, and hopefuls – for this is the erotic state where you should be demanded to take all the women that you seduce into sex to, but your tools prove lacking. To build the decent “O” bring a solid, big tool! She pointed out in her blog that women can eliminate small cocks with enough selective breeding, so that women following us and those women of power dedicated enough can be assured of taking in a cock big enough to please us. It’s the difference between having to concentrate of where the cock is inside and hoping it can be directed to a place of pleasure, and being so filled with meats of hard pleasure that holding on for the orgasm of the century is our only concern.

Don’t lie to me, you are like all men. You want women to gasp at the mere sight of your hard cock. You want to hear her crying out in orgasmic bliss and later wonder if it was so big it was uncomfortable. How pathetic, that you reduce it to such, when our minds are so beyond that we prefer to entertain other thoughts. However, for YOUR BENEFIT your Goddess will pretend that your ego feeding is important to me at all. I do admit a world in which mens cocks would not make me chuckle in humiliating style is of value. I refuse to take any less than a size greater than what will please me.

Not that you will ever get the chance unless you are broken down and evolved by me to be worthy of pleasing me physically … (oh yes, I CAN increase your cock size, but refuse to most of the times due to the ego most men cannot live without once I do.)
Could you be one of the ultra rare ones that not only please me, but would stay with my training to enlarge your cock? If enough of you beg for it, I shall dedicated my powers of mind control, and combine it with what I know about the male body, and make this dream happen. Look for the Training in a month, but be forewarned, this takes time, advanced tributes as this takes more of my time on one slave, obedience, pain, and devotion to your Goddess – oh but the rewards!

So where was I? Ah yes, my respected Domme friend’s response.

Eliminating all men except those with large cocks.

What a wonderful proposition! Let us show the energy powerful, orgasm-loving (and deserving) women achieve when tempted with a plan to populate the planet with cocks big enough to stroke all our buttons. Taking it one step further might need me to round out my idea with some other facts condemning mini-cocks. Ultimately, any plan to evolve men into worthy cock bearing servants is worth our genius and time. Couple of problems with your scheme... it does keep small dicked men from reproducing, and let’s face it, who would want a small dick in them? But when we deal with genes, we have to isolate and identify the women who carry the lower standard as well. What determines penis size has little to do with genetics. Most of what determines penis size is how much blood the corpora cavernosa retains during erection. Baby-dicked men, don’t have enough blood.

This is a lot like building muscle, break down its cells and let it rebuild and it will hold more. This is why some who used to have little mustard cap cocks swear by penis pumps, because some males do achieve this destruction/rebuild cycle. If anything, the vacuum used with a retaining ring can achieve temporary results, and also provide much pain for the male (Why so many of them get little improvement, they refuse to hurt). However in the unaided penis, the more sincere factors determining size are other issues such as aerobic capacity and general vascular health.

Studies have found links between physical activity at puberty, health such as diabetes and blood pressure, and levels of testosterone before the first release all effect penis size.

In addition, proper hypnotic development, including brainwashing the young man into obsessing about the proper ways (jerking) to stroke his cock to increase size and lengthen. It also must deal with the tight tendon that anchors the hard on to the body will dramatically increase his size (as proven by men in areas where boys have 10 inch cocks on a normal basis.) All boys want a larger cock, and why the hell men refuse to teach this has only to do with the fears men have of religion and society turning sexual function off limits. Secretly, all men would brag to everyone they knew if their sons had 8 inch cocks by 16. Damn it, youíre slacking, fathers! Oh, but to say this is forbidden? Why? We tell girls to do breast exercises pre puberty, and they surely do not aid in orgasm or fertility ñ well, as visuals they might, but a cock is surely worth greater attention. Now, this can be done at later ages, but that is where the time, pain, and advanced hypnotism by a truly uncompromising Goddess come into play.

More constructively we need a woman dominated society where males are kept active pre-puberty and during, and prevented from getting off before they reach acceptable size, as well as fighting heart and vascular conditions, and preventing obesity.

I’m not saying this isn’t a wonderful plan in itself. But am just pointing out, penis size goes beyond the scope of eliminating a “tiny penis” gene.

I say don’t let them breed, because they are unworthy, of course… instead lets give them vasectomies and make them wear diapers. As you said, they have their places, as car washers, forced bi sexuality, financial contributors (A lot of bankers are great with money but tiny-dicked), and house maids.

Does the fact that I can transform a body that God make less than perfect convince you that I have been a portal to unimaginable dark powers including but far beyond hypnotism? Try me, I dare you … dare you to prove how much you need the cock that only exists in my realms of transformation. But … eh, if I am not amused enough by it, I’ll refuse my talents, and only accept “hung” slaves with absolute obedience.

Forever Changed

Those of you who were attentive yesterday may have noticed Your Goddess kept predominantly to herself. September 11th was a catastrophe I was thankful I was able to witness. To be worthy to reign, those in power must not look away from the painful, or the miserable … or the tragic truth. It steels my metal, hones my vision of the world, and those in it that deserve punishment, perhaps even far greater than what your Goddess can deliver.

I took my vantage place seconds before the second Tower collapsed. Being a Former Resident and Having viewed New York from my New location for the past 10 years, the twin collapse was like yanking the front teeth from the face of a dear friend. The blood that spewed formed the black clouds overhead. My mind heard the cries of those I dominate, for even my submissives felt dire pain over this loss as I did. And your Goddess let flow tears. Yes, your Goddess can cry, though tears are reserved for those who deserve them. The Innocents. Then the tears flow for anger, out of frustration. They stopped upon the secondary realization that “my country” cannot protect me or those deserving of protection any longer. This may have been a con ongoing for decades, but at this moment, I felt, and those around me felt, this overbearing truth.

Through the 24 hours I watched the news, as the identity of the terrorists became known, and scenes of Islamic adults and children rejoicing in the streets were shown on television, my sympathy was eclipsed with rage. Rage for the idiocy of organized religions. All of them. Well, no one hears a Buddhists starting wars, but, they’re guilty by default. But Judaism, Christianity, and Islam -- a more fucked up power-and-blood-hungry system of extortion could never be thought up by the Devil himself. No, this is the work of man. Believe any religion you wish, but believe it as it was truly intended. And trust your Goddess – the dogma of the Church, the hatred and murder ordered in the Koran, and the futility in Judaism were never the intention of a god if he existed, or his Messengers. Religion was hijacked and turned into a money making machine.

Religion is the single greatest threat to mankind, and the single greatest deterrent to true wisdom in the world.

I could spend this blog ranting about the need to remove any terrorists killing innocent children from the planet, regardless of religion or race. But I won’t. I shall do what a Goddess is designed to do… I transform the experience into a learning experience for my submissives, and a magnet for power for those who deserve it.

In a fair world, the power that siphoned off of the September 11 tragedy should be turned to poison when swallowed by politicians. For in their cases, they use it as a way to steer sympathy and trust for election. They do not truly share the grief of those who lost. How do I know? Because you cannot be furiously peddling the gears of elections and simultaneously stopping your world to absorb the full impact of such a loss. And I am not talking solely about the loss of lives. I am talking about the loss of beliefs. Children have beliefs that their daddy and mommy make the world safe, and that daddy and mommy come home, and that people around the world treasure life and compassion. Adults carry that child within them forever. 911 was a wake up for most of America. We are not safe. Daddy and Mommy Politics sold us out for votes and big fat lobbyist bank accounts in Switzerland. Mullahs in Islamic countries turn their mosques into dens of terrorism for reasons of money just the same.

World politics is transforming into a new beast, one that does not cherish life over power or finances. It shall grow to eat itself, out of its own greed.

The time for your Goddess was predestined. Only those such as myself see the true uprising. The world as we know it shall end. Those who understand power, and who deserve their thrones of power because they feel and explain the truth, shall rise from the ashes. Read closely the words on Your Goddess’ Bio … in her Blogs … in her training. I am not one of the posers, the fakes, the wannabe dommes or hypnotists playing around for a buck. Since birth, a portal opened for me. My mind and being became a vortex of wisdom and power, mostly dark powers. The life that innocent girls deserve was overtaken by the flow of energy into me. I could have delineated the power struggle behind 911 when I was 8 if it happened then. Power and the direction of men (who lead politics still, sadly) was known to me fully by age 12. When the key to using the awareness and power that came to me was revealed (hypnotism and mind control) I instantly understood my role. I am one who others will find TRUE FAITH in … the type that supports them in moments like 911, which will come upon society by the hundreds soon enough.

I do not want to turn this tragedy into a soap box upon which to stand to preach my ways and plans. I wish instead to let my mind and heart open up so that I can annually feel what was lost by those I shall never know. What I suggest to you is … remove the veils from your eyes. See that elected leaders and idols do not actually do the things that one should do to earn your respect. Among their many sins is – they demand to represent you and lead you, but never “SEE” you for what you are and what you need.

Your Goddess sees what you have waited for someone with true power to see in you. Do not take my word for it that I am qualified to lead you. Spend time with me, and your own mind will tell you this.

In place of the major religions that will destroy our world, religions based on a darker, more balanced and truthful order shall rise, in ones such as Your Goddess. I will not speak of a heaven or afterlife in which you get what you need, crave, and deserve. My eternity is here, now, and one to experience. My words honestly admit that my wisdom is fleshed out with the clarity withheld from organized religions and politics. As you sink deeper into my realm, you will begin to share the clarity that dark truths and true understanding of the weaknesses and fetishes of man present. You will embrace your place, and worship the one who brought you this safe place and mindset. The fulfillment, release, peace, and simplicity you find under my wing of pain and pleasure will be your church. And your Goddess shall fulfill the faith you place in her, many times over.

In The Trapping Mood

The eroticism of it all … of lifting my perfect, full breast by my hand to squeeze it into a bra that accents me enough to make men cum from twenty feet. The delight I take brushing my hand over my already-hardening nipple is so much greater than your desire to suck on it because of the power I feel. This mood has been building since dawn, when I awoke to a morning of self-discipline that few of you men could match. Two hours of Pilates, yoga, and lifting the chains attached to the balls of slave, followed by twenty minutes of whipping plays a small part in keeping my body perfect. Hmmm, maybe I should come out with my own exercise video, complete with mind control playing in the background. Not only would my followers be pushed to trim up more, they’d send me money for every inch and pound they lost. Hmm, I shall file that under “Cash Cow.”

Get on your knees and rest just an inch away as I pull my thigh high stocking up my silky legs. You’ve felt legs smooth as water before, but, have you felt them locked around your neck as I perform my Breath Play games on you? Already, the arousal I feel tingles my skin, adding the proper degree of lust to the heat that comes off the ultimate target of your desire.

A trip to the designer shops downtown sounds fruitful.

On a dreary day like today, my more evil side can surface in a flash … careful, my skirt could hide a ball-crushing trap that activates once you’ve fallen into my carefully set snares. Mmm, yes, that does excite me, remembering how since a young girl, I became aware of how much power passed from a man into me, a girl, once I got them dripping cum in their pants. While most girls looked away in disgust, I learned to milk it, with a bat of my eyes … a perfectly timed stretch … or a reach for that shirt on the top display that almost showed my panties. Sex with my prey was never on my mind, I was computing. Computing every situation, calculating every weakness of man, every escape they might take to avoid being under my control once I turned on them, weak from struggling in my snares.

Now look at me. Breasts heaving with every breath, lips shiny with gloss, lower lips hot with the friction of the chase of your will and lust. My body has learned the talents of erotic movement to the point that it would nearly kill you if I took you home. But you won’t be that lucky, or wish for that, for I will have stolen your mind by sucking on your sexual high long before we could get anyplace more private than, say, the passage to the dressing rooms. Oh yes, I have seen you so many times, pretending to buy that dress for your wife or girlfriend. Trying to meet me, to introduce yourself with a carefully rehearsed line turned into lust when you realized that you could see more of me through that slightly open drape. A half hour of this, while I mutter mind controlling mantras that barely drift over the background sounds, weakens you, places you firmly in my trap.

I pull the rope closed within ten sentences. Somehow, you feel that this shop isn’t fine enough for me. I deserve a more expensive shop down the row, where you credit cards have no limits. Dresses and shoes are mere trinkets compared to the pleasure I get knowing that with every dollar you spend, I reinforce your growing mindless addiction for my approval. Waiting just the right moment to respond to you with a word or snicker is a subtle way to program you to always strain for my approval.

You see, trapped prey, that today is not the day of my greater rewards. I simply set the trap and found you struggling in it. I may have trained you just enough to allow you to follow me to my dungeon for obedience training worthy of a slave, a cumslut, or a servant. That I shall enjoy without rush if you pass my tests. Your wallet will forever be open to me, but, think not of that. Think of what I am now, where I am now, what I want to do to you NOW.

I stand in front of a full length mirror in my dungeon, my reflection flanked by the tools of your pleasure and mine. Whips, stockades, cock ball torture devices, dildos – mere wall coverings that feed your fetish, for the one who shall evolve it is all that is important. Your Goddess … her high heels adding a commanding stature to her already commanding words and will. Her short skirt hiding something you will crave more every day. I check my hemline with the help of a riding crop. Mmm, yes, just low enough so your Goddess knows she is tasteful in her cock hardening leather. My breasts accented with the ribs of fabric that strain against them. My neck bare, urging you to cover it with a dazzling trinket – if you could be so lucky as to see me.

Oh, but you can see me, and see MORE of your Goddess, once you are on the path to servitude. This path of training – you’d wish to get to me right now, wouldn’t you? But you see, the path and trap are where half my fun, and half your training, shall be found. Walk behind me now, potential slave, obedient servant, and conditioned cumslut. Crave me, adore me, lick at my feet like a shadow, forever. An eternity of erotic control … imagine it … imagine being the focus of my power, the power held in this cum producing body … the genius held in this wicked mind … the strength held in these whipping hands …the heart – well, oops, there is no heart, sorry. But you will learn you do not wish it any other way.

What lies deeper in my traps? How does a night of a dozen wet dreams sound to you? Or perhaps, a night in my stockade, feeling me mind fuck you and simply fuck you until you hear me orgasm to complete exhaustion and satisfaction?

Beware your Goddess on dreary days, for her imagination on how to take you deeper into her traps, further into her punishing ways, wraps around her like a fog. And you won’t see her coming until she hits you!

IN MY VOID, ONLY I WILL HEAR YOU SCREAM

… with delight.

The warnings were there. Pay attention. First, repeated over and over, warnings that your Goddess Saphire simply is the most devious creature you’ve ever entangled. In my web pages … yes, warnings one after the other. Not that I feel any remorse or sympathy for you. It makes my game tighter, more sublime in rewards, to know that you were your own most wicked devil to continue coming closer to me. Those lucky enough to chat with me – how could you ensnare so willingly? Was my beauty blinding your survival skills? Those “fight or flight” skills that surely were yelling at you to run away before the darkness engulfed you? Such a pity that hundreds of generations before you, all the dominant genes that led to you rising in Darwinian triumph are now owned so thoroughly by your Goddess. Even the most talented minds with the most dominant lone wolf practices stepped directly where all my arrows pointed you to. The satisfaction I feel when I return my gaze in your direction and see you tugging in my trap … squirming in my web.

I replay the steps not only to torment you, but so that you ingest the hunger for appreciation of how euphoric you feel when your Goddess’ words, visuals, site – hell, Her fucking evil brilliant power to control you – envelopes you. When recently you felt the erotic high of turning to moldable putty for me, tomorrow your hunger and reaction for deeper control will be double.

Shall I lay out my signs? That in itself should be a warning to you to run. But ooooh, what’s the matter big boy? That cock I control via your brain and lust keeping your eyes from looking away? While I might laugh at that, there is little I appreciate more than your virgin brain, ready to be mindfucked by me, for as you lose power, mine increases exponentially. So now that you cannot stop reading, I shall remind you of the warning…

The fall bringing its darkness … fall meaning a fall from your own will, darkness being not only night, not only evil, but, the appearance of your Goddess. I was warning you not to look. Yet, back to the darkness, you followed so willingly. With hair to match my soul. Away with the blond, so delightfully a penetrating lure that men bite on it like a gaping-mouthed fish on my hook. Yanking you to where I gut your will and clean your mind, I had my summer fun. But back to black. It does fit me better, doesn’t it? Take a closer look … as I sink my claws and teeth into the flesh of your will.

You can’t quite put your finger on my look, can you. Hmmm, perhaps it is the building desire to put your finger on my silky skin that keeps you stroking your mind. So I shall help you and that finger picks up the poison of addiction from my mysterious origins.

I’m just an American girl (wicked moan of innocence.) But with Cuban and Italian roots … that was another warning, of the darkness of my roots. Each warning made the swallow of my new hair color carry the mind numbing powers of Black Tar. Heroin, brainless! Black goes best with my mind, But don’t go thinking I’m some ethnic chick. I may speak both Spanish and Italian fluently, but my culture is all Saphireism.

After an extended weekend away from my cherished Sahpireism, in the boring vanilla world, I’m so happy to return. Mundane birthday gatherings in clubs made for the masses, and weekends at pools around friends instead of adoring servants … it all gives me hunger for my pre-destined culture of my realm, a hunger to consume more of my own followers.

Away from the normal world, who among you is with me? Who wished to be on hands and knees before me offering full service? Who offers me better than the mediocrity of this world outside of Sahpireism? Outside of Saphireism, it is all about the lowest common denominator. In my wicked realm, my light is as dark as a blacklight in air until the beams of my eyes fall upon you. Then you glow like the prey you truly are inside.

Some of you have served me well in my absence. Purchasing required items, and devoting a spending account for your Goddess to use.

The rest of you took time away from me. That has me less than pleased. I want you all to tell me how you will repent and atone. But before you do … to make your will and entire sexual being salivate for my control, I shall leave you with today’s most enthralling game for me … a game that a rising servant enjoyed as reward for his putting the mind, will, and needs of his Goddess before his own. Study him – oh, I wish you could, but I value the privacy of all of you. Yet, imagine him if you will. A naturally dominant man, not in the posing way of yelling or simply dominating a woman or man in bed, but, a man who is unafraid of life, who imposes the force of his mind and body to protect or nurture those who deserve him. Yet, with me, I have slowly been conditioning him, taking my time. He was wise enough to realize my genius eclipsed his own, and he is quite brilliant, though a mental gnat under the flyswatter of my focused will if I would desire it. However, he amuses me, and works hard to earn moments of training from me.

While turning any singular man or woman into a full blown whore is a pleasure that you cannot truly comprehend on my level. However, to do so, with him, with others of you reading this that swear this could not happen to you … well, let’s say that you will crave wanting to inspire this reaction in me.

His addiction to my power grows, and the fact that his mind is diverse makes the level of addiction nearly limitless. I gave him a taste of a whole new level minutes ago, and my heart still pounds with excitement from draining yet more of his identity that is not what I wish to shape it into for my pleasure. So willingly he embraced the visual spiral that goes with my Whore Training. Yes, he had trained with me before, but, this is his first induction from my new site, and he was unprepared for the depth of power that all my cunning resources on each induction or training hide. Trap upon trap. Oh yes, I warned him. Warned him with words, with images, with symbolism, that with the fall, comes the darkness, and as fall comes, the urge to push my wicked control beyond limits he or you can bear grows. Yet, he injected them like the Black Tar heroin that it is … euphoria-inducing. Addicting. I could hear him laugh to himself that he wasn’t so far gone that he couldn’t reject the programming I present to his yearning soul. Yes, I can feel it’s yearning to be taken by me even more than he can. And so I let him chuckle to himself, let him ask for more inductions. And finally gave it to him.

I kept my mental clock ticking, knowing precisely what he was listening to each moment of my induction … I could feel his cum flowing from sheer pleasure over how sexy my command to conform to my desires were to him. He thought he had enough in the first 15 minutes, so I could hear his silent “Oh my goddess” as I kept adding layer upon layer of perverse, mind control ever deeper into his brain. I could feel his ass welcoming the cock of my sexual power fucking him from there, all the way up his body, to meet the cock I rammed down his throat – cocks of words, cocks of control and orgasm and surrender.

The mental orgasms I planted in him, each spurt from my mental cocks laying seeds that he thinks he can predict … hah! Only I know how intensely uncontrollable his urge to be my whore will be when I trigger him. The orgasms he will have acting as my whore will grow each time. The addiction to listen to my commands more, and to follow any command with just as orgasmic obedience will break his mind, spirit, soul, and identity completely. And he will thank me for it.

You are beneath knowing the actual reaction my mind and body feel when I foresee what I have planned for him. But if you have ever had a desire to give a woman unimaginable pleasure … well, this soon-to-evolve-into Servant took his first step to feeding my needs to be pleased as a genius, as a woman, as a Goddess.

If you are obedient … if you are pliable … if you are dedicated … if you are worthy of my attention … you shall feel the gratitude that this one lucky devotee feels now, as he knows, yet cannot remember, that he is even deeper programmed now for my service, and shall soon please me by becoming my personal whore, any time I trigger him. His pleasure and addiction from it will be so great, that I shall stack it and a dozen other orgasmic states of mind onto each-other as I get deeper into total brainwashing. While he might think that his level of erotic adventure and release are extensive, when I have just half way finished introducing him to my erotic realm, he will realize that his world of sexuality is but a cage unlocked in the wilds of my sexual universe.

His future rewards include training him to be worthy in his sleep, in his dreams. He salivates for this. It will drive him insane, I warn him. Yet, what started as a small curiosity over the power I have on the dream world too, has become a growing obsession with him. And after warning him enough, I shall give it to him, with all the evil I possess urging me deeper into his identity and mind.

My void is his eternity of orgasmic obedience and plunges into my sexual control. And he shall never ever be wanting or able to leave …

Fresh Meat?

Oh, how I savor the menu set before me. Lured by the genius architecture of my website, the meat of your identity is so fresh it’s still trembling on what hooks you. Strips I have already sliced from your self control hang to cure in the heat of my beauty. Sniff … ahhhh … mouthwatering, but savory only after seasoned with my evil spices. This website presents the various gardens of sin and desire you seek, the forbidden fruits that draw you impart their taste to your skin, the stunning ripeness of your fetishes growing under my roasting sun force a gnawing hunger for more down your throat. I force-feed your own orgasmic obsessions like geese until you burst with the frois gras I dine on … better known as your submission. Take pride in the stamp of “Prime” I put on you if you pass my initial inspection. The marbling must be there. Marbling? Ah yes, I must explain that for those who have never dined with a Goddess evolved to sup on only the most delicately crafted recipes. Marbling: between the muscle of your identity, marbling to me is traces of awareness that as men you are in need of breaking down, tenderized to the bone by my mallet of indifference to your suffering, then carved from what I leave of your useless world using razor-sharp insight into what you crave. If you knew the intensity of the ovens of supernatural wickedness I withstood to become the master chef of mind control that I am, you would wear “Goddess Saphire’s Prime Meat” on your forehead proudly for eternity. Trust me, my style will make you beg for that right. The heat that burst the shell that contained the Goddess within me would turn your entire understanding of life to cinder in minutes. It isn’t just devouring your mind, will, and soul that I savor. Among my many talents, your Goddess Saphire is a true “Epicurean” who doesn’t just gorge on these succulent courses, but takes pains to understand the origin of your weaknesses. Before the fruits of my genius labor are mentally deep-throated, I study the lay of the family and social ground that bore that oh-so-deforming fertilizer that mutated you into a possible slave or servant for me.

Though you can never truly understand the mind of your Goddess (for it would humble Einstein in any attempt to fathom its depths of sexual power alone) you should have some feeble appreciation for the most primal of pleasures – what you devour that arouses you. Appreciating that gives me some hope that you understand how excited I am to see the courses brought to me through my website. My site reflects the electronic architecture of traps so delicate that not even the most brutal beast will escape their snare. Traps upon traps , level upon level … as you feed all the poison grass of one field, your hunger leads you down to deeper grazing grounds. The salt licks I save for minds so in need of a higher understanding of pleasure they will lick upon my block of obsession until their tongue bleeds. Yes, as you graze, you feed upon my nutrients … all addicting … all transforming … all of them making you succulent for my feasting.

While I may be the master chef of erotic mind control, you may humbly find appreciation that if you are chosen, it means your ripeness pleases me. Your dangling by a vine, like dangling from handcuffs, amuses me. Each one of you fascinates me by what I could do with your raw materials if you last through preparation to the final meal, when I feast upon all you know of yourself. Your individual contribution to my menu of souls isn’t to feed gluttony; in fact, you are accepted, chosen from among masses of dried up offerings for the tasty elements you possess. So enjoy that though you are weak before a woman of power and authority such as myself, for you possess quite by the accident of natural selection the raw ingredients I learned to play with in Hell’s Kitchen of Pleasure. Will the secret sauce I add be your orgasmic juices that I force you to milk twenty times a day? Will my wine be the tears you shed feeling the sting of my whip, or even my rejection of your flawed devotion? Just as wines are valued for their body, so you shall treasure me.

One thing you can be sure of, the cutlery I use to reduce you to a good hunk of meat will be surgically guided so I devour every ounce of you worth corrupting and damning to the hell of unbearable pleasure. Hmmm, shall I use my paring knife of my wit? Perhaps the French knife to chop aside your resistance. Or, do you need the cleaver of my whip? Marinate now in the intoxicating sauce I simmered in your brain, for when I sup on you, the meal starts when you lose your awareness of who you are in my presence, and ends only when I have sucked every ounce of pleasure through your fetishes into the same mouth that forms the words that shall become your only source of nutrition.

Oh, how I love that your twisted growth shall make this a most bountiful fall. So much to be thankful for … owning your heart, passion, will, time, and imagination is a starter course. Brace yourself for the teeth of my deeper powers, for they shall bite into you soon enough… if you are stamped “Prime.”

Dear Puppy

Poor little sad puppy, your missing your Goddess, aren’t you? I know because I can feel your turmoil and grief. It is by far the most pleasurable feeling you have given me, and that is saying something. Your hurt cascades through me sending ripples of pleasure along my body in a way few can appreciate. Think me a bitch? Or do you have a keener understanding of what your suffering does to please me in a way no physical body can match?

Thing is, as much as your grief pleases me, I find I’m not missing your sad company. But then, who would miss the confused sub, who forgets his place and makes demands of his superior? You try to own me, and that is not how it works. No, my bitches know their place and keep it there. They know that no single person can meet all my desires. You can not be all things to me.

So what is it that crosses your mind most often when tears well up in your eyes in honor of Goddess Saphire? Is it the physical Goddess? That which you covet to hang on your arm in theaters? The flawless body and harsh and fierce beauty I am? Is that what you miss most? Or is it my mind? They way it out paces your best thinking? Or is it the way I discipline you and remind you where you stand? The way I make you cover your fear with laughter? Is it my unashamed evil? Oh wait… that’s a different puppy that has the keenest appreciation for that side of me.

If you had truly learned to appreciate me, you would adore all of me. There wouldn’t be one thing I do that you’d have a problem with. Even when I travel and have my own adventures, you’d welcome me with open arms, and enjoy my exploits, rather than try and get me to conform to your needs.

What grieves you is you are not my cohort, you are my hindrance. I cut away the dead weight that would hold me back. Why would I settle for less, when so many of my servants admire who I am?


Those of you who want my attention would do well to remember, worship me for who I am, not who you wish I would be.


-GS

Your Arrogance Is No Match For Me

While I Don't Listen To Much Pop I thought this video fit the occassion.

Don’t you just love having the mental superiority and confidence to not just put an arrogant man who takes pleasure in belittling others in his place, but to also unravel his mental fabric, reducing him to my play toy in front of the entire web world? You may not fully feel the erotic surge of mental superiority of MY level, but we have all wished for just the right comeback –the perfect wit – at the right time. Being who I am, it flows with pleasure, not strain. I don’t live for this, for he’s a mere man, not worthy of more than idle dominance. Yet, his focused jibes at women, especially my friends, in my realm, was more than stupidity on his part, it shows the natural place for men below me.

Princesses/Sub Females Come First! ALWAYS. You attack one of my girlfriends, property, or any other unprepared girl for that matter – you’re in for a rude awakening. I’ll devour you whole like the serpents from hell I command – rip you to shreds with the talons of the ultimate predators of evil (Griffins for the unenlightened) that defend true dark realm goddesses.

I am a proud member of what I consider to be one of the best upcoming BDSM sites on-line: mydungeonspace. It’s BDSM resources and community present a warm climate for those in the scene, and just as important, those “needing” this scene presented as it should be and as it should evolve as only mydungeonspace has achieved. As much as we all present our culture as either matter-of-fact or natural, it is neither, it is exceptional, and mydungeonspace imagined and now is delivering a portal that appeals to the wide-eyed newcomer while also expressing the achievements and desires of the most extreme. The service this site offers all of those born with or nurturing their natural gifts for strengths and weaknesses is applauded by anyone that truly masters of its arts. If you are not a Member yet and are current in the BDSM Scene, you should consider joining. It is a source of pride and joy for me to defend its integrity, and that of its devotees, especially women.

What brought to light this latest challenge?

Perusing the forum yesterday, a tasty topic presented by one of the members came from “A Dominant Man.” I noticed how crude his responses were to members that replied to the topic at hand (Safewords) … particularly with one of my online acquaintances, Carrie … who presents ideal thoughts of the lifestyle. His crudeness epitomized the rhetoric of posers and those who at best will reach low limits compared to true masters. Normally these men are unworthy of even a “pffft” from me. It was Carrie’s arena I was inspired to defend, though she is of such pure clarity she does not need it – it was a bond I fed through my attention. His increasing vomit of opinion would not stop until the proverbial “shit hit the fan” at that point. Save me the fucking lectures on “to each his own” for I am by far not an ignorant person, and have studied and used what I feel is convenient for my worshippers in my realm. My position was only emboldened by his inept replies, as all stood to learn the lack of value in his ideas once I gave him a piece of my mind.

From a woman who handles men quiet easily, his argument cowered. He refused to reply to my responses. He seems intelligent enough but the way he expresses himself makes me want to restrain him and show him (to all masters’ delight) how it’s really done. Hmm, I wonder why there was no response? [Too busy masturbating his embarrassing “manhood” at the thought of being my inferior?] I dissected the thread and broke it down. I even believe there was a lesson well learned for all. On his part … perhaps he noticed I am not one to debate with!

Amusing “challenge” – pffft – such as this proves the point that even in dark realms, those most comfortable in what gifts they possess find honor in defending the “dark right” of others to listen to the abyss rather than listen to fools such as these blowhards (blow something you are most trained to blow in the future, mister, it’s attached to you, if you need a hint.)

The words of one of my pets come to me when men as transparent in his “beliefs” are proven to be paper tigers when whipped and chaired into a corner by a master of beasts. It is verse describing those with super-ego (their own view of their capability) they errantly place on a high pedestal. “… their voice is loud while silent to others, their pain silent yet deafening, the integrity of their speeches tragically, comically flawed, though they think not … naturally.”

To view last nights blog entry and get a better understanding of why I was annoyed click below.

SAFEWORDS

(only mydungeonspace members will be able to view.......If not you can just join..it is FREE)

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.