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.
Labels: dominatrix, fem domme, Goddess Saphire, Hynpnosis, hypnodomme, mind control, mistress, mp3 Virtual Induction, phone domination, Spring
