Balls and Chains

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Princess And The P

Oh my dear little Crissy. Crissy, Crissy, Crissy. While your Goddess Saphire is about as safe for a Princess (in training) to play with as a boa constrictor, I do get playful. You’re my little squeeze toy. As I put pressure on you, you squeak adorably, and then when I least expect it, you slip from my grasp and I’m at a loss to find you among my usual playthings. You’re a delight … oooo, but at the same time so … “trying” of my patience.

Sometimes Princesses get frightened, sometimes bratty in their way of shying away from challenges. But they emerge, stunningly re-done by me, the Makeover Master.

Crissy, you should know by now, that your soul and mind are being molded by me even when you’re in hiding. You come back to find that I’ve molded a new face for you. Pull a string, and your voice comes out all different, doesn’t it? And you like that, while I, your Goddess, find it so precious how hard you want me to reprogram you.

You could emerge as such a stunning Princess. With all the talents that any girl should have in her Cotillion. Her coming out party. For if mothers taught their Princesses as well as I do, they would be boasting oral skills that would make a porn star blush. Can you imagine standing at the microphone, detailing how you learned to suck and please, dress and transform, under my guidance. I’d be in the audience, having my feet worshipped by the many unfaithful fathers … so proud of you. Enough to bring a tear of pride to me. OH, that is what the P. stands for in the title! (Almost forgot.)

We all know the story of the Princess and the Pea. The true Princess had to be revealed, so the man put a tiny pea beneath her many mattresses. Of all the imposters and fakes, the only one who could not sleep well was the true Princess. Even the tiniest pea beneath all those feathers made so much of a disturbance in her little sweet life she could not go through with another night of programming. And that is why you cannot sleep well, isn’t it my dear lovely Crissy? You feel something making you uncomfortable. It is as tiny as a pea, though, my lovely. It is the P. of Pride.

You fear that I will have you performing skills that reflect your obedience and worship of me that will drive a stake into the heart of your Pride. But it is but a pea, Princess. It is a nothing. It only can be felt because you focus upon it. Once you go through training, you will sleep soundly, and with a slutty smile to boot!

Ah, but sometimes Pride keeps us from our best selves. They do say, “Pride becomes the fall.” In this case, Pride became the fall from my grace. Yes, you slipped a bit by disappearing on me after doing so well.

So today I had to call you. Oh how quickly my Princess did jump to answer my call! That was a step in the right direction, illustrating the truth that you know you can’t go one without me and my totally transforming you.

But my Princess has so many fears to overcome. I must help her by catapulting her over her walls of fear. I began just hours ago, with that call. You were at work. And had your cam on as ordered. I captured you, as you spoke and moved. I could feel the truth in how you expressed your fears, not only of what you do but of letting me down, which is unspoken but understood.

A word of advice … cams are not merely to amuse and arouse you, they are tools to shape you to my designs. And there are no rules in my realm, no off limits. (Ask my rather important socialite bitch. Haha. The fear of sharing his cam with his tennis club pushed him beyond his barriers and he couldn’t be happier. No need, for he is a fully content crossdresser, now and forever, thanks to cam.)

So now we have an agreement that you drive right home. Once there, you will turn on your private cam.

In some cases, the key to opening doors is .. well, what you fear. Humiliation. By acting out your moments and skills of humiliation, then you have given me a key. And also shown yourself that Pride is but a Pea. Nothing, really, to lose sleep over.

I shall capture your humiliating act, which really is quite nice to watch. It surely does “the trick” for me. And I love seeing that my powers and guidance have taken you so far. You will be amazed that even when absent, my words work within you, changing you.

Once I have this, this evidence, I shall use it to push you through your blockages. Your fears. And once it’s done, like all others, you will be sooooo grateful that I did this.

You are, after all, just a Princess in training … fragile and in need of guidance. You are in the right hands … shaping hands, strong hands, knowing hands.

Yes, you shall please me on cam and then in person. For if you do or do not go through with this, I am but a day away by car. And I have so enjoyed playing with you long distance. A visit to me might be just the erotic shock that you need to shoot you deep into the reality of being a full Princess … happily playing to please your Goddess.

To Infiniti and Beyond

Delicious? Yes. Empowering? Absolutely! Sexually addictive and explosive? You have no idea how much so.

I’m talking about pushing a man or woman beyond their taboos. Social boundaries and personal limitations are just that – walls between a human and the infinity of sexual highs that lie within my realm … a realm that sets foot into your world to enter your mind and transform you, but like an iceberg, most of my realm cannot be imagined until you are “hit” by it.

I’m on webcam now, watching one of my most talented and devoted Servants finally cross over into sexual experiences that I know he must master to be fully appreciated and valuable to me. Yes, this is for Moi – Your Goddess. Your sexed up Goddess has her full arousal power hitting 6th gear right now! Normally I savor every moment of his orgasmic experiences while a Real Time Servant pampers me or pleases me. (Actions that push me to be relentless in how thoroughly I drive my Servant on Cam beyond his limits. And he wants me to. He needs me to by this point.) Today I have taken a day off to enjoy solitude before a social gathering of stunning Princesses. But this is far too erotic to keep to myself. If you could see the sexual energy being released in my Servant (and given to me) as he follows my every order, indulges in every sexual act that I command … you’d cum and cum and cum, your body and mind building and releasing, building and releasing all that sexual energy that I create in you.

Let me give you a gander at how he’s expressing it …

“Can’t stop it. Don’t want to – need more. More Goddess. I’m pure sex. Pure sex and obedience, pure sex and your puppet, your slave, your slut for all your deviant pleasures.”

My Servant wrote me that about 20 minutes ago. He had remarkable potential to serve me and make me more powerful. So I took my time, and he recognized the value of my time, and appreciated how thorough I was as I took over his mind, body, and soul. Over a year shaping his mind, improving his body through exercise, and amplifying his cum production almost to cruel proportions. He understood that only fakers claim to totally transform overnight. And fakers get fakers – you pretend to be under the control of a fake hypno dome, and she pretends to be shaping you. But there is no escaping the depth and thoroughness of my mind and body control if you have what it takes to last the first months. After that, it really is not your choice any longer, for I have planted too many seeds of sexual control and pleasure in your mind and body. The harder you try to quit, the faster and deeper these vines of sexual addiction and pleasure grow. Oh, but it is so clandestine, like having sexual code undercover in your body. This Servant would go through a few days of a ritual, or I’d talk to him on the phone, seemingly innocently but planting seeds of control and perversion. Sometimes all it took was 5 or 6 sentences mentioned or repeated a few days apart. I tested how far along he was a few days ago with just a few sentences, from inductions I had him listen to a year ago and never mentioned. But they were pivotal in testing how few pockets of resistance still existed in his mind, and how deeply his addiction to sex had grown. Only a master as gorgeous as I am can do this to a man who otherwise was one of the most confident and masculine, and popular, straight men I’d seduced and overpowered.

From the start he was in that class of my “favorites” … someone who doesn’t come to me merely for a hot hypnotic or voyeurism stroke-off. He was amazed at my mind and the breadth of my studies and mastery. This shows me he values what is most valuable – most erotic – the mind … and power. He wanted total transformation because I gave him a taste of it, a fleeting taste because way back then his mind and body could not have withstood what I put him through daily now (and what I could put you through daily if you get over your fears.) I gave him minutes of his mind being wiped totally clean and filled only with sexual energy and commands from me, his Controller.

I knew he was nearing that threshold where his sexuality dwarfs his entire history so greatly that he enters into uncontrollable arousal. It hits him, and many of you, for moments. But a normal male body, unimproved by your Goddess, can’t handle it for 14 hours, nearly without break. I had to build him up to this, by taking over his sleep, giving him conditioning breaks, hitting him again, adding another induction, depriving him of sex and cum, then forcing massive flows for hours. And I mean literally hours. This is the reward to someone well down the road to total surrender of his old self, the ones who are “ready for a new way of life.”

I could feel him closing in on his goal. His language changed, his body took over new reactions, he lost track of time while sexually aroused or listening to my voice. He would fight it, maybe for a day or two, then that became a struggle he would lose too often. Then it came down to ignoring what I had created in him for a half day, a few hours, or in his sleep. Slowly he lost ground, as the sexual beast -- the sex toy, the cock puppet, the fixed addict, the cum machine – took more of him. Each stage increasingly sexual, and rewarding.

I allowed him a fun weekend, goofing off, knowing what was brewing inside of him. Then he texted me in the middle of the night – I can’t say it was unexpected, except by him. Four a.m. and he writes in a text message not one of his thoughtful texts, or funny ones, or questioning ones. He says simply, “I’m such a fucking slut, gimme cock” . I knew instantly that he wouldn’t remember fully, for the personality that is a sex slave and addict for giving pleasure and taking pleasure had total control as per my building it from scratch. This message, it might slip into his mind that he wrote this. And I knew just what to reply. It was 6:30 a.m. his time, and I knew that if this personality took control at 2 a.m. when he sent it (after performing both my Brainwash and Candle Ritual – together a mind washing force impossible to shape you to my designs) that he would be unable to sleep. Any time he would get close, this personality would create such uncontrolled arousal that he’d wake and crave more. So at 6:30 I wrote back, “It is time for your reward.” Hah! I sent it, and knew he would be awake in bed, hard. I was right. I was also right that though he was half in his normal world at the moment, the sexual talents of the personality were so great that he literally streamed out cum so strongly that he later told me that it was like he was pissing a few seconds. That is how much control this personality has to turn him into a sex machine without limits. Oh it did make me so hot when he describe how it sprayed in a growing line from his navel up his chest and streamed down his ribs in an un-ending stream before his balls drained far more than a normal ejaculation even. He lapped up the cum obediently as he has become addicted to it as part of his conditioning to soon serve me in the flesh, upon my request to fly to me and let me continue evolving him.

That was last night/this morning.

Today he cashes in. Part of a total transformation is removing his primary taboo or taboos, for this will sever the last ties he has to how he imagined his sexual performance and how to serve me. Without this being cut, he will have limits. With it cut .. well, let’s just say that this superhuman sexuality he’s feeling is minor in comparison to where he will be in 4 or 5 months. And from now on, he shall, as I shall … cash in on the fact that now he has absolutely no sexual limits, no inhibitions. Nothing is forbidden him, and nothing is denied me. This level of control and response opens channels of energy, opened by his surrender … the doorway is his mind. He opened it to me, completely.

He once asked, “Goddess, do you really feel the sexual energy flow from me when I do your Candle Induction, or when I let the Cum Curse or the Experiment take over?” “Far more than you’ll know – until you are before me, with your mind blank and living out my orders.” Just as your body and mind succumb to feelings of overwhelming love when you see your lover/child/dog – so thusly does his energy hit me even when I sleep sometimes, if that is when he is performing his rituals for me. I’ll awaken flush with sexual energy, and know one of my highest level Servants is giving in to my mind control and passing all he is and can be sexually to me, his Goddess, the one who has pushed him beyond the limits he set for himself.

Up to a point, limits are “played with” by new Servants or Admirers. They think they won’t change or do anything they don’t want to. And that’s their decision, if they wish. I do fine toying with them on their meek level. But those who refuse to let my initial control change them are unimpressive, and seldom go deep into life changing experiences. They simply are too fearful or too uptight, or too egotistical. I’m not going to waste my time explaining the rewards to someone who doesn’t understand what it means to succeed in pushing yourself beyond limits.

The Marathon Runner knows, the genius knows, the survivor knows, the god or goddess knows, the hero knows, the sexual dynamo knows … but quitters do not know, and should not know. Does the person who runs the first 5 miles of a marathon qualify as a marathon runner? Is the man a genius if he keeps drawing his same, unremarkable discovery? Is the man a hero when he only thinks of himself and only saves himself? No, no, and NO.

Oh wait – I am just now sent a new development on Cam. He’s brought his laptop with him on his day of remarkable adventure, and his phone, which takes great 15 second downloadable video. Damn this is hot! I’ve trained him to produce cum endlessly, making him a slave to the cock that I now control through this. His jeans (very sexy jeans, I might add) got so wet from the dripping as I led him through a few sexual assignments …. And I turned him into a flirtatious slut. He’s quite good looking and fit, and charming, and he’s been texting me about the couple he targeted at this open air cafÈ. Turns out they are tourists, and have no plans other than to enjoy the city. And yes, the man notices his hard on, as did the woman. They’re from Europe, much more open minded. To be continued, he says …

For the last month, I have built up another side of this Servant. A side that is ten times more sexually active and hungry for release than he ever experienced. One exercise won’t do this. Dozens will if they have the genius mind of your Goddess timing them. I’ll give you an example, since I’m very turned on watching his progress. Mmmm, yes, I shall have to beckon him soon, he is ready to please me with my fetish desires. As for the example … He obeyed without question, as to why I would want him to tie up his cock in shoelaces to force a permanent erection while he drove around for hours on his errands. Before he would never entertain bondage. Boring to him, and somewhat “gay” he said. I ordered one day on, one day off with the ties. Until the day I made him even wear it at without a break and even at the gym. He was terrified some random accident would expose a cock that is tied up with black shoelaces and beet red, his balls forced to dangle an inch from his body so they could not ejaculate, also red and full of cum. It was that night, when the sexual control I planned hit him. He removed the shoelace, and every inch of my cock (his cock before) was on fire with sexual energy. His balls spurted out at the slightest touch they were so full, and he drained and had sexual dreams of me all night long, sleeping less than an hour total between tireless milking of cum while worshipping my beauty. He’d fall to sleep, and my cock, remembering the sensation both physically and subconsciously, would fill him with cum and his mind with his favorite sexual images of me, and he’d awaken needing to milk off the pressure. I texted him through the night, ordering him to listen to one MP3 induction after another, depending on what he needed.

The next morning he was exhausted. I had pushed him through sleep deprivation and cum production high/addiction past his wall – that wall that said bondage is stupid, and not his thing. Is it his thing? I’ll cut and paste his begging from last week, one moment.

“GODDESS! PLEASE! My body jumps and pelvis thrusts, unable to escape the memory of the intense bondage. If I don’t tie up your cock I’ll die! Please, Goddess, let me worship you this way again. I can’t stop thinking about it. I try to fight it, but for god’s sake, did you have to make it shoelaces? Something I see every second at work, triggering the memories? I’ll sleep all night with it on if only you tie me up again!”

Ah, so I had shown him my genius. Don’t ever forget that you are under the eye of a woman who has dedicated her entire life since teens to deducing and testing exactly what will drive a man crazy with sexual energy, release, and ultimately service. I learn from each of you how to master by erotic control and fine tune it to the next man.

Wait, a development in the cafÈ. No, now it’s not the cafÈ. It’s their hotel near the cafÈ. You see, to fully serve me, my servant must leave behind his limits. If he’s afraid of mice, well, he won’t be when I am through. But in this case, he was afraid of cock. Well, more accurately he was disgusted by the thought of another man’s hard cock. One of the few who had gone his entire life without a single gay experience –no kissing, fondling, sucking or fucking. He couldn’t even stay hard when in the same room with a couple when they were all fucking at some party. Guys dicks and asses grossed him out. Their voices made him soft. But to serve me, he must be totally humbled, and reduced to his empty core, which means without any prejudices against any sexual act. Like with the bondage, with this he’ll emerge highly sexed up, and so, so happy. Now, I am removing his “gay” taboo. Or in this case his “bi” taboo.

I have gorgeous breasts, do you not agree? This Servant had a cum producing weakness for their perfection. I linked over time the idea of sucking my breasts with sucking a cock. At first it was subtle. Then it grew. When he noticed it, he turned away. But then something in him had already been planted by me, or awakened if he had refused his cock sucking desires from youth. I had over a long time slowly added the cock sucking to every trance, every tempting email, image, video, and IM. He obeyed and bought the lifelike dildo months ago, ignoring it in the package that I made him keep under his mattress. Slowly, I knew what was changing in him. One day he made a confession. He woke up from an erotic bisexual dream (planted by me, your wicked Goddess) and without thinking had the dildo in his hand. He put it into his mouth, toyed with it, gagged and almost threw up from gagging, but then said, “Nah, this is stupid.” Let me remember … it was maybe 10 weeks later? Something like that. Oh how swiftly the water runs as he nears going over the falls with his sexual obsession to suck now. His mind surrendered to my Experiment, and he’s sliding that dildo in and out of his mouth like a pro porn slut. But it was still a dildo, not a cock, and he had named it my cock. Oh wait, I forgot to tell you his taste for cum. I had also planted subliminal images and sounds/commands in his inductions until cum was the most delicious-looking and tasting thing he could think of. He hated the tastes of his cum before, even drops of it. At first he would cum one taste was enough , for two was gross. Over the weeks, his taste for it grew until he couldn’t cum without lapping it up. And I had him start to cum on the dildo. Until he wanted cock and cum any time I triggered it.

Update! The hotel! He’s in the room. Yes! I can feel it now! He’s sucking his first cock while the woman masturbates on the bed. He said it’s just about to start, he’s drinking from their mini-bar while she showers to freshen up. I may not be able to write more soon, as his play by play will make me so fucking turned on that this Goddess – where is that damn sex toy slave boy? He was following me an hour behind with some things I need moved. Totally trained and obedient. He better show up in five! Or he’ll be lapping and agonizing for hours before I let him cum.

Just like with the cock bondage, he’ll be transformed. This first cock will lead to other cocks. Ultimately it will lead to my strap on dildo. By then his talent for deep throating will be trained to please me. And he surely WILL be in front of me in a few months. Totally without inhibitions. For you see, if I can remove this one, his biggest inhibition, then the others I enjoy like bondage, nipple pain, face sitting, cum swallowing, foot worship, breast tongue play, whipping, and finally fucking until I’ve released so many times I’m exhausted …. (ahh- ahhh –ahhhhh!) can not ever be refused. In fact, he will so eagerly beg for me to use his body and mind in any way that my real challenge is usually holding back new Sex Slaves once I have broken down every wall of inhibition, pride, and ego.

Ah! My Sex Toy has just driven up. One more minute with you all is all I have left before being served. I’m so hot and wet, feeling now all the sexual energy he sends me, while he takes that first cock in his mouth and is sucking like I trained him on cam. My god, his mouth is talented, and oh … ohhh … he’s so hungry for it!

Listen up hopefuls and those who so far only voyeur upon the Goddess realm of sexual performance! Until you surrender to me … what you wish for, what you secretly need, what will turn you into a sexual animal/pet under my control is just a fleeting dream. I make it your reality, within my realm.

You may not have the same wall to break down as his. Maybe you can’t cross-dress. Or maybe you can’t get hard. Do you have a foot fetish or would you crave to be a big baby? Are you afraid how much you’ll like being suspended or in a latex gimp suit? Would you love a huge cock but can’t make that happen alone? All it takes is some pain. Hah! Whatever your wall, I will break it down.

There is NO EXCUSE for a man who “thinks” he is a sexual talent to even THINK he knows sex inside and out until his limits are blown to pieces by an outside force. In this case, my Servant – wait, I mean my Sex Toy/Pet and cock sucking, cum loving Servant – will emerge far more sexually intense and appreciative than with that simple bondage training.

Goddess Saphire, transforming the mind, training the body, pushing the sexual energy. Ahh, it’s a big job to fill with bit thrills awaiting… and while you might be thinking of my full breasts overflowing or my painted toenails twinkling when you think of thrills – YOU SIMPLY HAVE NO CONCEPT OF MINDBLOWING SEX until I take over!

Knock knock – over here, Sex Toy Boy, this is YOUR lucky day of sexual slavery!

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.”

Honor Thy Goddess

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




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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fiery Sensuality

Original Available now, and you will pay every cent you haveif you desire it. I am expensive and unique. You will find I’m not just worth every cent I charge to torture and humiliate you; you will find that at my prices I am a value. I spark a change within you.





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Fiery sensuality, lingerie nearly burned off my flesh under my own groping hands, enforced by mind altering visuals and audio triggers – MMMM, yes, surrendering creatures enslaved by your own sexual hunger, I do “deliver.” Scientists used electronic sensors to give full sight to a blind man … and in seconds he was orgasmic with overload, fixated to insane levels, and imprisoned by flashbacks for his brain never did recover. My visual creation goes beyond that pulverizing you to the core with sex – pure, uncontrollable sexual bonding with me. You think you can handle it? Hah, I laugh. Try … you’ve begged so long, dripped obediently for it so achingly long, don’t deny yourself your life-changing pleasure. Watch in awe as my sculpted red nails mesmerize you through a tour over the perfection of my body. Feel the heat, the temptation to be smothered by my flawless flesh, my full breasts heaving as you succumb to the mysteriously entrancing purity of white panties barely restraining the sexual succubus you begged to feed with orgasm after orgasm. I’m testing your limits, your need to go beyond them can’t be refused, give in, knowing the lust may extinguish you.

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

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





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






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






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

Goddess Saphires Valentines Day Contest-Join Now!!!

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Imagine an entire day dedicated to transforming you through guidance and submission at the hands of your gorgeous and commanding Deity of Perfection. Goddess Saphire’s Valentine’s Day Contest allows one winner 24 hours of unforgettable pleasure. It lifts you above the innocent, temporary, and ultimately meaningless holiday experiences of your past. For once, the surrender of your heart and soul to a woman will be rewarded with such overwhelming erotic control that it truly rocks your world. Finally your pain and sacrifice will mean more than the pain and pleasure you feel, for it will evolve you into the being you long crave to be for a woman of such amazing hypnotic powers and authority. Enter my Valentine’s Day Contest, and await the commands and rituals that will prove your devotion to me, and your ability to evolve into ultimate pleasure at my hand – or whip and toys if you are so lucky. Your Goddess will observe your progress, and one lucky Servant shall be the chosen. The rituals and tribute experience alone far out-values your expenses. You shall beg to last long enough through the pleasure and hypnotic control to be the one that will forever be blessed with my touch.

Moon Induction-Series 2:Path To Pain

Three paths of enlightenment exist under the Goddess. Under her temple begins the program of the disciple that seeks revelations of misery.

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SPIRIT GATE

HELLGATE

BACKDRAFT

BLACKHOLE




We both know what you seek – an erotic existence beyond what you can imagine, and a purpose greater than your past. You want the mind—blowing presence of my beauty and genius to hit you the moment you sit at your computer. My wickedly sexual and artistic screensavers tease your eyes, transforming your will and body second upon second. There should be rules against an image this addicting and erotic, but my devilish laugh answers that with the truth that you don’t want any limits on how deeply and how relentlessly I deliver you to the greatest sexual and hypnotic existence. By purchasing one of the screensavers above, you adapt to my being part of your every thought and moment.

Call Of The Wild

P-rrrrrrrrrrr … you can almost feel that “word” resounding in your eardrum, echoing in your mind even before it’s heard, or even if it’s never heard. P-rrrrrrrrr … that cat-like sound seduces everyone. It penetrates your mind, vibrating your conscious, subconscious, and soul, opening them up, making you want to be part of it. You can’t escape the desire to get more of it, or inspire more of it, that is human nature. Sound combines with all the other senses, all your memories, and all your dreams. That is why we can be infuriated behind the wheel of a car, and the moment a great song triggers a memory, we’re suddenly on top of the world, gleeful and open, forgetting everything except what that sound inspires in us.

Sometimes I like to envision the human mind as an object. This simultaneously can give it mystery and substance. It may be a puzzle to unlock one day, or a small evasive creature to trap the next. In the most engaging and powerfully bonding moments, I see it as somewhat of an amoeba … an organism that is constantly changing shapes, with solid boundaries that respond to stimulation and can be shaped into anything that it wants to survive, and anything I want to evolve it. As I listen and observe, I apply my stimulation to it, view the response, re-apply more specific stimulation, then watch it grow as my stimulation divides it and evolves it to be a more dynamic, thriving, and greater surviving creature unto itself. Watching it grow under my stimulation is breathtaking, consuming, and feeds me immense power while it feeds you, the mind, what you need to evolve into your dreams. My stimulation is much like a P-rrrrrrrrrr … one that enters through your ear, the memory of its pleasure planted into your amoeba-like mind again and again and again so that it is part of the altering stimulation in every division of thought and pleasure you can imagine over my control periods with you.

Anyone who has listened to my recordings can tell you that my voice (mind’s mouthpiece) has rather supernatural appeal, much like the P-rrrrrr. Learning hypnosis at such a young age, and then following that with advanced study of dominance and mind control, I became aware of the power of my voice when it could be trained to be an artistic implement, a tool specialized to sculpt, cure, or excise what you and I both desire – unimaginable erotic experiences and evolution under my guidance. In my recordings, I have taken all my mastery to design dialogs that will help open your mind, body, and soul to what almost no other woman on Earth could ever give you or make happen in you. As powerful as they are, they must be “generalized” so that the people paying for a transforming control and experience (You) get far more than they had hoped for. And, my legions of worshippers, servants, slaves, and hopefuls attest to that I deliver and deliver and deliver until it is addictive and life changing. Think for a moment on that … What I deliver via my voice and wisdom and authority is so remarkable that others yearn for it to completely take over or at least alter their entire life and understanding of themselves. It is a gift and yet also a mastery that cannot be denied, and once engaged in it, cannot be avoided or diminished.

I read a fact that amazed me, though it should not have: the trained singing voice is more versatile than any musical instrument, and its notes hit upon more receptors in the brain that burn in immortal memories than any other audio stimulation. Go to an opera, and you will see professional hit men reduced to tears in a few seconds of passionate singing. That voice penetrates, and there is something else – a bond between singer and listener. While the singer might sing to many, his or her voice still develops a “personal” entrance into the mind of the listeners. This is a bit like the “lock and key” psychology that is integral to BDSM, and surely integral to advanced mind control. The slight adjustments the human brain can do to incoming opera singing – or my incoming voice – is different when you are hearing me live, over the phone, rather than in recordings. And there is another very powerful difference between listening to my voice over recordings and listening to it over the phone.

As I mentioned, the mind is somewhat like an amoeba constantly changing shapes to feel out its stimulation and get its direction. I get a sense of it through your emails, chats, or purchases. However, there is nothing that can compare to listening to me, and my listening to you, over the phone when it comes to how greatly I can deliver my erotic control and life changing stimulation. This makes sense to you, doesn’t it? As you talk to people, your mind instantaneously assesses what they say and adjusts to it. When we are afraid, we try to escape in mind and dialog, and when we are entertained, inspired, or aroused, we move to embrace it. While the normal person barely listens to you, my mind and soul are trained to be masters at detecting your greater desires. Sometimes you may not even know what you truly desire, and yet, talking to me, a master, I see what should be obvious to you, and peel away your layers of defense or limit your evasive moves until you accept it and then ultimately enjoy it at the hands of your Goddess Saphire. A few examples help you see just how much you would crave what you reap from live phone calls.

I have a man who is very powerful under my erotic hypnotic control. He’s quite strong and wise in his arena in New York City, which by all means is a competitive arena. He was drawn to erotic mind control for a while, yet got little from the rather pedestrian and sometimes outright false websites promising hypnotic delights. He felt he was too smart for them, and he was, for his mind could always think ahead and outsmart the devices/recordings. He came to my site, and saw how intricately it was designed, and how specified I had made what I offered. This opened him up to try a few recordings, which did deliver enough so that he began conversing with me through e mail. Though he expected little more to come from hearing my voice, he called me to thank me for being professional and “the real deal.” He was completely unprepared for how much more effective my voice is during a live conversation. As he spoke, I listened at first. I already knew a few things about him. But, the pauses, the wavers in his voice, the change in pitch, the nervous laughs, verbal responses – they all were elements in a higher equation that solves complete guidance of his mind and soul. As he moved to evade, I counter-moved and trapped. As he revealed, I was able to catch him in a moment of openness to show him how he hadn’t really fully revealed at all. When I saw an open door, I made him hold it open for me and inspected what is inside, then changed the lock on it to my own designs before exiting that room of his subconscious. He was aware of this, and yet unaware of how proficient I am at this. He thought he could control my inspection and subsequent use of what we shared because he could control the recordings. He was alarmingly, pleasantly, overwhelmingly wrong. He had opened his mind to a gifted spirit of deeper psychological surgeon, and I cut away the useless rot to reveal to him in these live conversations his true ailments, cures, and redesign. By the fourth or fifth call, it was more like I was a plastic surgeon; now working on the outside to show to his own eyes how different he looked to me and himself through our live talks on the phone.

The mind chooses our words, and they are safe choices, especially in e mails and lesser in chat, but they still fake or protect you. Live, on the phone, I can detect your lies, fakes, evasions, desires, needs, weaknesses, strengths, and your ultimate value to me as a woman who spent her entire life force perfecting how to control you until you become what you truly desire. This is an erotic experience, as you know, but what about the part that isn’t so “flashy?” It is also an experience in gaining self-respect. You, like most people, run from your dreams, you hide from your own ability, you ignore your potential, you deny your lusts, you protect your vulnerable soul – YOU ARE YOUR OWN WORSE OBSTACLE TO WHAT YOU DEEPLY, TRULY, CEASLESSLY WANT TO BE! And this will go on forever if you wish to die unfulfilled, looking back on a lifetime of not letting yourself listen to what would shape you and overcome a lacking life.

On the phone, talking to your Goddess, you cannot hide. You cannot deflect. You cannot be your own worst obstacle. You must give in. I will foresee your ultimate goal. In a live talk, I will be able to be SPECIFIC in dissecting your mind and revealing both what ails you and what will cure you. From these calls onward, I will have information on how your mind works and how you respond (deflect or ignore) my guidance. I will know what you really need and mean.

Through our live talks on the phone, there is another unimaginably transforming and pleasurable element … I plant the seeds of my energy into your subconscious in your most fertile mental soil, moment by moment. The memory of it is far more valuable than the few dollars you might spend on other things. A 10 minute call or a 2 hour call deliver differing depths and information, yet they both deliver the period of time in which I can watch you through your voice as a living, breathing creature that needs what only I can deliver. You and your subconscious remember this bond, remember the truth revealed, and it is sensational. Like waves upon the shore, the memory keeps breaking upon your walls that hold you back from what you desire, in a human way that recordings cannot. What I hear most often, in fact from those who call me, is the word, “Cherish.” They cherish our talks, long or short. It’s a gem. Some call it the only meaningful or fulfilling dialog they have all week or year. The man who is married who cannot stand his wife’s voice – my voice is like the song of the Sirens calling him to distant shores of meaning and fulfillment, places where he matters, is unique and incredible even in his submission to me. He is the man who he knows and was, who needs to be freed to experience himself, and on top of that, his fetishes and secrets. He may be the man who is dominant all day long, but when he dials his phone and hears my voice live, his entire body relaxes, and begins producing the intoxicating chemicals that bring pleasure.

Another example is my Cumslut, whom you all might know. He is very gifted also, very self protective and also very driven. He can respond in a split second to me while typing in IM. He has a feeling of safety in his typing. But when I surprise him with a call on the phone, he’s nearly incapable of talking for a few minutes. My true power over him hits him like a stunning thunderbolt. His mind cannot escape how much he adores me and bows to my power and the secrets I hold over him. His body shakes with both vulnerability and released excitement. He won’t notice until later but his cock which I control, which is now my cock for all means and purposes, begins to seep out the juices of erotic stimulation and thrill. Yes, he has trained under me for some time. And obeys and follows my training, which includes an array of recording conditioning and listening. But nothing delivers to him the full force of my voice like hearing me over the phone. I love being me at all times, but to get him or my NY executive on the phone, and to gauge how every word I say penetrates him like a P-rrrrr … It’s like an orgasmic dessert of mind control. In three minutes – hell, in one minute, I can deliver a blow to his evasive soul that consumes him with erotic pleasure while planting seeds within him. I can trigger him into a conditioned response that he cannot stop. The memory of him acting out even my simpler commands prove to him that I am taking control of his pleasure and mind for his own good. The actions a year ago that might only take two minutes keep coming up in his mind. If he’s driving, every time he drives past, he goes under my control for a moment, reminding him that I am what he wants, I am the keymaster to his locked doors of experiences he desired all his life. In addition, I hear him and others fall in lust and love with my lightning wit, which can only be fully appreciated live. Your Goddess is more than a disciplinarian, she shall embody every aspect a female can possess, including wit, warmth of voice, calm, sexuality, surprise, and guidance – all starting with live phone conversation.

To hear your voice on the phone will bring to you the spontaneous genius of your Goddess of divine rewards and power. It will bring you overwhelming orgasms both mental and physical, as it can also bring you moments of surrender or obedience involving whatever fetish or fantasy you dream to experience. Yes, my recordings are seductive. Yes, they can bring you what you desire, and can even evolve you and change your body, will, and mind. But nothing can prepare you for the stronger connection you get with your Goddess when you talk live to me on the phone. Even now, with all my experience, I salivate knowing the taste of your dreams that comes to me when you call me on the phone. You bring to me, your Goddess, the most gifted mind control beauty you have ever been lucky enough to talk to, all of your secrets, all your vulnerable entrances, you open your doors like you cannot through emails. You give me the keys to your pleasures on the phone. You show me who you really are.

More important, the unimaginable high levels of my beauty, sexual power, mind control, and ability to transform you begin to be known to you. Like the P-rrrrr, it penetrates your ear and becomes the most irresistible sound you can remember.

You know you want this. This is why you sought me out. This is why you need so much in life now. Aren’t you tired of needing and not getting? Haven’t you hid from your dreams long enough? Isn’t it time to do what is so simple, what will open all those doors? I know you want to show your Goddess what you’re afraid to show the world, and you want to do it in a way that is alive, that is most effective and sure to bring you what you desired for so long. You want to be more than words on a screen. You want to be part of my world, and want me to be in control of yours until you get all and more than you wished for.

You want a living interaction with a beautiful woman of authority who is such a master at mind control that she will transform you in real time over the phone, and get 100 times the secrets from you in that call than you could ever deliver in text because she enters you through your live voice and hearing. She becomes part of you in a guiding or dominant way.

This is what you wish for, for the touch, the live touch of your Goddess into your mind and soul. I know this, and I enjoy this time of the day more than any other except the time of day spent with Real Time Servants and Slaves in my Dungeon and training home. This is your desire and destiny, and it starts with a simple call. Get to know your Goddess’ voice live, and you will get her specific genius applied to you, and it shall evolve you into someone you love as your new self, and she recognizes as a being of value to her, worthy of her special attention and energy.

YOU’VE BEEN SERVED!

Your Goddess and her two gorgeous girlfriends froze in the spotlight of military helicopters hovering overhead. S.W.A.T. closed off both sides of the bridge. The intercept jets sent from the base tipped their wings as they broke the sound barrier to get to us. The Coast Guard blockaded the harbor. Evacuation of women and children first would be announced any minute over the news stations. Guilianni arrived to stress that he had lived through this sort of threat and would lead New Yorkers to peace of mind. Homeland Security once again had thwarted terrorism!

Security forces of America combined to stop us after we took a picture inside our car as it rolled across the Tri-State Bridge at 5 a.m..

All right, so, it wasn’t S.W.A.T., jets, and panic – the idea that the three of us was a real terrorist threat is for real. In reality, it was just one pathetic jerk, city cop Officer Petrocelli, in all his asswipe glory, trying to play hero to impress the girls. He failed miserably, and tried his intimidation routine. Only the blow by blow details will show what I put up with, and the devil knows I’m not the one to try to intimidate.

Backing up a few hours … I went into New York City for a wonderful night of dining and socializing with three women that epitomize the value of females in wit and flawless form. We took a dozen pictures during the night. The picture part is as simple as it sounds, we took a flash picture while crossing the bridge. When we rolled up to the toll booth, the duty cop on that beat – Officer Petrocelli – had already trotted over from the warmth of the main office. We heard, “Pay the toll and surrender your camera, then pull over your car and keep your hands where we can see them.” We were so stunned we snickered. But Pedo-celli had a hand on his gun and was doing that obnoxious finger pointing that goes along with Intimidation 101.

The play-by-play shows what happens when small minded men are given the chance to show off and abuse his authority to keep the respect (not likely) of three women beyond his touch.

We kept our mouths shut during the show-off part, where he pumps up his 35 year old chest and parades back and forth, emphasizing that we could be facing jail time and Federal charges. My poor girlfriends had never faced down anything so unfair or abrasive, and were stuttering and flushing in the freezing air. Your Goddess is wayyy beyond the orientation classes for intimidation, though, and wasn’t going to stand for this.

Now there were several officers, no doubt needed to contain the most seductive women they saw all night that are also key players in some national threat or another. I had asked in an even tone to present to us the legal terms and laws for which we were not detained over 30 minutes, and got scowls and refusal. When their collective brain power could not figure out how to work my friend’s point-and-shoot phone I had to laugh. I cut off my friend and said, “Don’t do it.” And the officer asked, “Under whose authority do you think you all are under?” “Certainly not yours,” I replied with confidence. This immediately made me the target of their evil eye glares, which was what I wanted to take pressure off my friends. “Figure out the camera yourself, Jack Bauer.”

While he verbally challenged us as possible terrorists, I had already dialed my cell phone – a lawyer happy to take my calls 24 hours a day. I filled him in for a few seconds and let him eavesdrop on the situation, something that our Ace Defender of Freedom – Officer Peniselli – failed to notice. (Gee, aren’t cell phones the #1 detonation device in I.E.D.’s in Iraq and banned from security stops? Great work, Peniselli.) They did figure out the phone, and enjoyed the girl-girl-girl pictures a bit too much.

To see my gregarious best friends reduced nearly to tears boiled my blood, and your Goddess on a rampage truly is a security alert! Yet I maintained, for the person truly in power does not need to raise his or her voice. The problem with most people in a do-or-die, fight or flight situation is that they stop thinking, that is their crime against survival.

I enjoyed how Petrocelli and his superior kept trying to stare me down as if I was a suburban Princess about to crack. All I cracked was a smile when their normally intimidating bragging rights spewed out. My lawyer had heard enough, and I revealed the phone up my sleeve. Hearing in legal terms that refusing to release us would probably end with the re-deployed to the Harlem Midnight Patrol on New Year’s Eve wiped that Dirty Harry glint from their eyes.

In my departure, I faced all the men in a row, saying quite honestly, “If your plan is to stop terrorism, you’re a couple of years too late. Next time cleavage and legs appears on your profiling checklist, I’ll have you in court. Happy New Years.” I spun around on my heel and could feel them cringe. They failed in all three arenas: failed to apply anti-terrorist rules intelligently, failed to intimidate me/us into offering any information, and failed to impress us as the protectors of freedom.

Much has been said about a small man abusing his authority to the fullest. When it’s combined with limited brainpower, the chance for mistakes or oversights is overwhelming. I fully applaud our hard working policemen and firemen. Yet, when faced with any degree of surprise these men fumbled. They did not expect me being a woman of authority naturally greater than the authority loaned to them by their badges. Their brains froze up on them. A kid would have seen that it was time to retreat, think 30 seconds, look at the situation, and apply authority justly in a new and productive direction.

They had no idea the true extent of my experience revealing the truth and in this case lack of personal brainpower and spine. My entire life is build upon this foundation. The only thing that I got out of this is my friends could watch how they should react when unjustly accused. Women are not weak, they are many times sheltered from direct conflict and physical attack, but they are not weak. And one who knows how to irritate the vulnerable spots on the men who confront them can win hands down.

In the New Year, let us all hope that the men of New York City, and all cities, apply their training properly, scrutinizing people who truly are a threat, and not spending that time trying to impress a carload of women they could never touch.

Santa's Helper

This really hurt. My first letter back from the North Pole: “Dear Goddess Saphire, You are not on the list of naughty girls this year.” I thought I had read that wrong and was shocked. I had been banned from good girl status since I put aphrodesiacs in the reindeer water and he spent all night really seeing what shouting “Cum Dancer On Blitzen” gets you. “You enslaved half my elves last year to build your website, and it’s so good the other half are lusting for you all over the dollhouses, which for some reason come equipped with slave cages and penetration stockades. My wife still fumes over the pictures – my red suit replaced by that stunning sequin gown that’s part of my forced feminization conditioning. It won’t be the same since the Department of Transpo demanded I remove the anal plug built into the sleigh seat – you said take it with me everywhere! But they didn’t buy that excuse until I sat them in front of the computer and your image. Hehe, I truly enjoyed directing them to your Male Whore Induction, hope they are still paying off for you. Another reason to skip your house? You have men and women around the world now worshipping you and not that fellow from the black book found in a lot of cheap hotels – ahem, you know who I’m talking about. We won’t say any NAMES (son-of-god, ahem, just clearing my throat) but let’s say that professional jealousy from a certain spoiled risen savior resulted in a swarm of locusts this summer. Oh sure, it could be an act of nature, locusts 3,000 miles from the nearest food in sub-zero weather. I can’t blame them for worshipping you instead, maybe if Priests dished out pain so sweet they’d be getting enough head to spare the children. I had to pretend at the Superhero Convention that I didn’t recognize it was you dressed up in the Devil’s Version of Santa’s Helper. The Ball Gag made out of a snow-globe was a nice touch. Word went around you’re going to use Gabriel’s Trumpet as a strap-on and I had to bite my lip to keep from blurting out that the vibrato feels like every word you say is permeating my soul. So for the above reasons, you are not on the list for naughty girls. Your name appears tattooed on the chubby cock you now control. I’m not stopping by on the sleigh, I’m sending a limousine full of presents to you first so you won’t be so rough with me (give me more, give me more) At dawn run down the stairs in that unbelievably sexy blood red corset you sleep in and you’ll find me already roasting my chestnuts in front of your branding iron in your dungeon. The only red nose you’ll see this Xmas is mine after a good hour of breath play, if I’m lucky.”

It’s that time of year when I am in the giving mood. Giving pain, giving addiction, giving hope that I might push each of you harder.

I got such a collection of new bondage and discipline gear this Christmas, thanks for hopeful new Servants, that I could not leave for me holiday without dressing up in full adornment to play with a few of them. Slipping on my stiletto pumps over the thigh highs … massaging the breasts you adore as I slip them into my leather bra, elbow black gloves, pulling panties that barely conceal my doorway to hell’s pleasure … my hair flowing over my breasts as they heave on every step down to the dungeon. I had a servant prepare three slaves to test the devices.

First came the fingertip torture extensions: rolling spurs, pinpoints, and my favorite, the rasps that will make the skin of your cock raw just enough to that even blowing wind makes you cum. The cries of pain got so intense I did not ball gag him, I stuffed his mouth with the help of my beautiful dominatrix friend, Mistress Sophie, training under me. She lowered over him and smothered him until he learned that with each touch of pain, his tongue was to spell out the alphabet where it pleases her most. It’s funny, but even grown men in pain have to mutter that alphabet song to get it straight – oh, and I got it straight all right. I kept him on the edge of release until he collapsed.

This let us both focus on our second table of gifts: PENETRATORS! Yea! We played “What is it?” with slave #2. Strap ons in all colors and flavors. Anal plugs that play jingle bells. Undulating dildos that remind him that I own him inside and out. I’m getting an email every hour begging to put him back in the stockade.

Whips were hung by the chimney with care. Ouch, that looks like it really hurts! Hahahaha. Don’t you dare lose that erection or it’s another 50 lashes. My personal favorites were the gift packages that included cock and ball restraints that could be used when they play the horse for their Goddess.

And finally there were the cages. Cages of all sizes. Cock cages that have sharp points in them to penetrate your blood red cock as it’s kept from growing. The slave could not imagine the pain this would bring him. Upon release, his throbbing was so intense I had to suffocate him to keep him from releasing too early. I have a dozen of them, reserved for the best servants of the new year.

So while I am enjoying the pampering and luxury due a true Goddess, you all can read this over and over again. Send me your letters telling me what a bad boy you’ve been. You’ll get stocking stuffers and anal stuffers that will overwhelm your mind, body, and soul.

Oh, and Santa – I want 4 straight nights of orgasm denial before you meet me – you know the drill!

My Own Private Dancer...

My own private dancer. Yes, a Stripper, working for me, his Goddess. A hunk of flesh, surrendered to sexual needs, to the need for attention, to strip to turn you on. Confident on stage, truly turned on to the point that it’s wet where it should be, the sexuality radiating off the hot body to consume the audience with pheromones of pure lust. The first words out of someone’s mouth would normally be, “How Sexy,” or “I need that,” or “How cool.” This truly is a great sexual high, to have a stripper who – to the very core – needs you to cum while watching, exists only to pleasure your visual erotic hungers. The right word is, “Ca-Ching!” for your Goddess. But the sexual delight it’s giving my Servant, who I shall call Saphires Voyeur, and his audience, is the true endless value in this. Oh, and how very much his audience enjoys they’re watching someone that is more turned on in the stripping than they are makes them lust for more. It truly is one of the hottest private strip shows on the Net … ahh, but I get ahead of myself, and he shall prove it to you in video.

That’s right. HE. I have turned a man, who had fixations on strippers and his own sexuality, into the hottest nympho hunk you’d imagine. His confessions of erotic pleasure after every strip would shock Penthouse Forum!


Voyeur came to me with what seemed like the most innocent hope: that he would be less inept with women, more confident, and more sexually inspiring. Right from the start, I knew he had a few essential ingredients I had been waiting to abuse.

He has a very nice, tight body, which I have worked out even more until it’s a sight to behold. He truly does have, or rather, DID have, a feeble, inept way of appealing to women. In reality, he had almost no appeal, and considering he’s good looking, he was pathetic without me. And, he was humiliatingly broke. Always counting his pennies on the dresser between paychecks. Without money, confidence, a good social game, and guidance, his body meant little to women. Oh, but I had the cure, all right.

I would turn him into a gyrating sex machine, the lust he feels inside turned into pure animal sexual beats , driven by music. The release he feels transfers over the screen, and it’s truly hot, even to me, to watch what I have created.

It started with identifying his awe of strippers. I knew that I could use my mind control to infuse that into his own mind. As we had a few Inductions, he knew my voice and style was what he had wanted all his life. Now he had it. I began training his body, pushing it to give more to others through sexual expression, movement, and release. The conditioning was diverse, and always erotic for him. I truly was re mapping his brain to identify all stages of his learning, and his movements in front of the camera, as a sexual feast for his audience. And, that he would gain his sexual confidence and erotic release more with every dance.

It’s funny, how awkward dancing becomes MTV style moves, simply by removing inhibitions and lack of confidence. I coached him, released the inner dancer in him, while building up his body and sexual hunger to perform. Men and women, both would be his audience. He progressed well, then suddenly it was like his entire being disappeared and was replaced by a hunk of sexuality, existing only to make his audience cum by his moves and intensity.

I tested him out on some very hard to please Goddesses who understand, and viewed him myself until he forced pleasure in me exactly as I would demand of his audience.

So I had solved his two goals: more sexual presence, and more confidence. Now, I had to solve his money problems. You see, he did not know that once he was my mental slave, he would be working for his Goddess. That’s right. When he strips, he is paid. And he gives most of that, happily, to his Goddess, the one who took him from being a pathetic hot body, and made him a sexual dance demon.

Imagine it from your perspective. You spend your entire day needing a sexual high, a release or something that feeds your fetishes. You know that you get that visually, but, there is a need for the experience to be mutual. You need to know that the stripper is as out of control with sexual high as you are. Meanwhile, across the country, this seemingly conservative 30 year old, chiseled body banker, has a subconscious slowly building up a need to feed his nympho addiction to stripping for you. Both pressures reach a boiling point by the time you are both in front of the cams.

Voyeur channels Goddess’ spirit and control into his mind moments before he goes on line. You find him. Thank God he’s on line! His fees are well worth it. He and you are wet with excitement. The lighting is perfect. The music adds to the sexual experience. Then he starts … starts dancing, his eyes glazing over in pure sexual overload. His body moves, building up a huge reserve of cum as his body is trained to produce more cum the more you watch and get turned on. He’s trained to tune out everything in the world except building your sexual high. It’s obvious, you’ve never seen a man so sexually high and sharing this with you. He can’t stop what I have programmed into him, and wouldn’t if he could – surely you won’t.

His performance builds and builds, to your designs, adding in your personal fetish moves or clothes. His body becomes slick with sweat, showing his sexual focus and peaks. He locks his eyes on you, knowing how much you both need the connection of his erotic performance to release in a huge orgasm. He is trained to come on command, as many times as I deem correct, and that means, he is trained to please you in this course to pleasure. And I must say, that I pushed his body to look hard enough to please even his Goddess.

I have turned his poverty into plenty… his failures into erotic highs … and made him a service to the hundreds out there every night that lust for a male stripper that not only gets off on what he does, but has all the erotic power of a man infused with the sexuality of a Goddess in him. Insatiable, limitless erotic pressure is released in every dance.

Through the genius of your Goddess, I have given the world the ultimate voyeuristic sex toy! Plug it into your mind, sit back, and let it rock your sexual world.

Saphires Voyeur is available for shows at my convenience(email me for inquiries)...Good Job Bitchboy..Keep doing it well for your Goddess. Your funds are coming in quite handy.......

Congratulations! It's a GIRL!

Not just any girl. A transformed Servant, a creature designed by the infusion of my energy, a man who had faith in the powers of his Goddess. And now, after delivering to him his dream, his lifelong obsession – correcting his reality to free him to be what he yearns to be – I own him. No one could be more pleased than he is … well, except for of course your Goddess, ravenous for new minds and souls.

All she had to do was … totally give in … let me closer … let me enter her completely.

The scars of childhood, with its emotional crashes, may have led to this on its own. But my Baby Girl I believe was born with an identity split between being a man or a woman. She was born with the body of a man, and lived with this for decades. But then, reminders in her world awakened the female spirit more and more. How do they start? Where do they come from? You’ve got to be kidding. Look around. The female form in advertising is stunning. Any man with an iota of feminine in him, especially the desire to cross dress and see himself adorned and made up so well, cannot deny his need for long. Example?

Flashback. Victoria Secrets … standing in front of mannequin #1 in the window. Isn’t she sexy? Hmm, how would that feel, those panties, that bra? Could I pose like that? Oh and those heels, how sexy, how delicate I’d have to be to walk in them. Wait, um, I better just think about that Valentine gift for my girlfriend, because I can’t deal with this sort of imagination.

But, you cannot deal without living up to your need to be a woman. That impulse has proven to be so strong that it exists underground in every era, every society, since civilization began. The male need to be a woman, to feel the power and wonder of womanhood, is timeless, and one of the most powerful motivators to change. Those who say people don’t change have not dealt with – a) a truly longing cross-dresser, b) someone with equal male/female identities, c) me, your Goddess of supernatural powers.

Baby Girl found me from his little computer at home. Oh, he had already realized his need to dress as a woman. He has sneaked those little pieces of lingerie he hid. He had worn them, paraded in front of the mirror. He was doing this to accentuate his more feminine features. Learned to do make up on himself. And he felt the sweet taste of this transformation removing an y responsibility for acting such a way. It was fleeting though. He misdiagnosed himself. He was not a simple surface dresser, and was not looking for any old female form to mimic. His needs ran all the way past bone deep, to the very core of his soul and mind. Only I could see that, and, see what he needed as a model for himself.

His transformation could have been easy and swift. But, the thrill Baby Girl felt when I put her under trance was dwarfed by his fear of being discovered, and what this all meant to his masculinity. He would disappear for weeks at a time. A whole month. He knew from our first time that I was the one, the one who could deliver his ultimate need and truth. And this terrified him. Going through the point of no return, that point where he could never forget how important this is to him, was indeed monumentally frightening.

I would take him back because I had tasted the benefits of owning him, of being the one responsible for totally transforming someone so close yet so resistant and flightly.

He disappears on and off , then appeared, apologizing, in his own way. This was the breaking point for me. Either he went all the way, or he didn’t. I knew enough about him to identify, this is the type of man who needs a key motivator – fear! I had his life in my hands if I so chose.

Before I moved in that direction, I had to take him one more time to a much deeper reality and reward. I altered my hypnotic control, but he doesn't need it … and gave him an intense feeding of his dream, his real identity released in the most amazing form he could imagine. I had set him on course to recognize that if he lets me take control of his mind and will, he will transform into a version of the one woman he adores most – his Goddess. That’s right. I would allow him the time to feel the level of female passion, power, and sexual fulfillment that Goddess Saphire feels, but only slightly. A partially empowered clone, if you like. Then once this set in, the joy of it, I let him spring the trap by trying to retreat. I say “him” now because it was before his total surrender. Soon he became what he is in reality – “her”. Baby Girl.

“I will not tolerate your disappearance! I present to you the greatest gift a man needing to transform into a woman could dream to have, and it’s before you. A lesser Goddess would leave you to your own weakness. But I chose you out of your greatest need and I will not allow you to discard my gift. I shall force you to become what you are destined to become.” She was not sure what I meant. Then the phone rang at her house. I knew her roommate, a close friend and someone in his same line of work, would answer. She was terrified. She knew that I could destroy her life. And I should have, for living it as a lie. I hung up, then gave her/him an earful of fear that shook him free from this lie of a life he is living. “If you ever show any apprehension again, I will divulge everything to your roommate. And worse yet, I shall leave you forever with the awareness of how amazing it felt to be fully a woman. Do you understand me?” She was too humiliated to answer. Then, I told her the reward after he agreed to this deal. “I will force you to become a woman on such a complete level, that I will OWN YOU. And I don’t even care to wait for your reply. I am taking control, NOW. I OWN YOU!”

This is what she needed. Responsibility for her transformation taken from her.

She had no choice at all by this time. I had the power, I had the secret, I had the means, I had her future, life, soul, mind, and reality in my hands.

But oh, this could have ended in so many varied bad ways. Instead, she is in his dream! Living it!

I now control her reality. Through focused mind control, training, and obedience, I will now turn her into the greatest example of female sexuality anyone in her mindset could hope for.

She is overwhelmed with pleasure, totally whole and fulfilled now, for once. She adores me, has faith in me, and is so pleased to be owned in return. And for me , the reward is obvious. I own her. I control all her sexual identity, her pleasure, and I shall continue to push her beyond her limits in all erotic realms.

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.

Something Wicked This Way Cums-Post Halloween

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which leads me … BACK TO MY DUNGEON.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pavlovian Response– WHY I DEMAND IT!

I was born with one destiny -- to reign as a Goddess. It comes with a cost, damn it, one that I will not allow anyone to slight or ignore. You seek a woman, no correction, a fucking gorgeous woman of true power, authority, sadism, and erotic control. You find her? You show your gratitude and worth by your service and obedience – and that’s not a part time role! It’s a life goal! There is no such thing as “some obedience” or “some adoration.”

I devote my entire life to the evolution into a Goddess and master of erotic mind control that has no equal. All the worthless pretty games my girlfriends play with its fake approval and adoration were given up for a greater reason, but the hounds of hell will be unleashed upon you if you think this is role playing and part time servitude. For every one of you lucky enough to be chosen, lucky enough for me to see a grain of possible value, there are a dozen replacements I simply do not have the time to inspect. I shall give you all a lesson here, based on what I put Bitch Boy through – LUCKY Bitch Boy, because the alternative would be to drop him completely without a single look back. And that is torment that none of you want … to be ignored. If he was seeking punishment, then punishment comes through process that YOUR GODDESS chooses.

Okay, Pavlovian, a quick but vital study. Pavlov trained his dog to salivate on commands (subliminal ones.) This proved that invincible and absolute control lies more in the subconscious and deeper animal origins/evolution of our brains. I use this as a valuable means to an end – total control of you, total reshaping of you to something of value to me, total serving of pleasure to me, and as a by-product … unimaginable erotic experience of your fetishes.

I PUT YOU THROUGH HELL FOR A DAMN REASON (aside from the fact that it gives me pleasure – bitch!)

I’m going to explain here what happens when one of you bitches fails to live up to YOUR end of serving me!

BITCHBOY should know better, and surely knows what was at stake – humiliation at first, and losing me completely if it continued. His role is to rigidly obey and serve me – rigidly! You are my bitchboy! What do you not understand, Bitchboy? You are instructed (and I thought trained enough) to leave your cell phone on at all times so that when my Goddess instincts tell me you need control, I give it! I am not fond of messages (that is a monumental understatement.) This Servant had been told that when I text him my Pavlovian message “SNAP” that he must respond to me in text or otherwise immediately without thought or hesitation (5 minutes being the limit, which should really never even be approached, it’s more due to delays in some text messaging systems than it is my being forgiving – WHICH I AM NOT.)

I sent two SNAP messages, which should have been a clue that I mean business today. He responded twice, as trained. He was working out that the gym “to impress me more.” A rock hard body impresses this Goddess when it is all for my abuse, but, fails to do so when obedience is sacrificed. The third time he does not respond. I told him once the consequences: humiliation. So quickly he forgets. On the third time, I got no response, and so, being so moved, and not wanting to ever curb my devious greed for control over souls and minds, I called him. Yes, that Bitchboy was lucky enough to get my VOICE. He mentioned he was sorry, that he was spotting a friend in weight lifting and could not respond quickly enough. “Oh?! So you spot a stranger that couldn’t give a shit about your cravings, goals, and need for my total control to be content in life instead of obeying your Goddess?!” He promised it would not happen again.

I waited a moment, then tried a fourth time and this servant failed me again! I had warned him that I do not need to be in his presence to convulse him with horror and humiliation. I had already slyly asked for the number at the gym, “Just in case I ever need to reach you and your cell is broken.”

Now, pay attention, Servants, for fear was barely peeking out from my hell gates on this moment, and I promise you I will carry this even further with you all if you do not obey my training …

I hung up the phone, and he sent another excuse apologizing. I called him back, on his cell phone, and reminded him that I was a woman of my word. With my other phone, I called his gym and got one of the staff members, Mike, on the phone. I placed Mike on speaker phone so Bitchboy could hear me ask him questions via the cell connection I now had with him. I knew that Bitchboy was probably looking right at Mike from across the room. I could feel Bitchboy squirming … the horror rising …

I told Mike I was looking for a customer of his that answers to “Saphire’s Male Slut” and wanted him to page him over the speakers. I heard a groan of fear from Bitchboy but was too tickled with evil to even hear his pleading. Mike could not believe his ears, and asked me to repeat it. So, slower, with emphasis, I repeated “ I am looking for a customer of yours who will obediently answer to the name of Goddess Saphire’s Male Slut.” Mike replied he understood what I was asking, which led me to believe that Mike is very familiar with bdsm lifestyle, as are so many muscle heads and “strong” macho males. But, he said he could not do that. With my Bitchboy listening and watching, I asked Mike if it would be easier if I just gave him my Slut’s real name? I put Mike on Mute, and proceeded to tell Bitchboy …

“How’s that? Are you sweating now? He remained silent and then uttered with profuse emotion – no wait … I need to break her to tell you just how arousing it was for me to have my Bitchboy literally sweating, his mind confused with fear and devotion to me – I had him by the mental balls and was squeezing him until they would nearly burst and that feels so damn good for this Goddess … whew, anyway, where was I?

Bitchboy replied, “Why are you doing this?” “Did you doubt your Goddess’s word means more than your word to obey and answer? Did you doubt I would not call?” My most wicked laugh – not forced or fake – rang over the line, penetrating his mind as if I had driven my strap on up his ass until his mind exploded in humiliation. I removed Mike from Mute and told him I’ll reach my Slut on his cell phone. Then I returned to Bitchboy and said flatly amid my arousal, “We’re going to meet our 5-minute deadline when I SNAP, aren’t we?” Then I hung up.

He is not aware that his pain, pain he suffered serving me, has ALMOST earned him a visit from me. I won’t tell him when. This is training, Bitchboy! If I visit you, or invite you, and your thoughts are not right, your body does not respond, the pain I inflict on you before rejecting you forever will be beyond your threshold and below my needs! Get your lame ass idea of obedience and servitude in order!

He called after the incident. He texted me. Apologizing repeatedly. Then I SNAPPED one last time. (Yes, it does also work with a snap of the finger if you SURRENDER to my total training and let your Goddess fulfill her destiny in controlling your body and mind.) I SNAPPED that last time just for the hell of it, for my fun. Whew, it’s time’s like this that make my casual moments in my lifestyle – casual in between real time pain giving – a joy.

Warning: I am a woman of my word! I will call your work, I will call your parents, I will call in the middle of your damn Vanilla wedding to that pig and love every second of destroying your reality … and it is all your blame. I am a Goddess who keeps my word. You keep yours! OBEY! SERVE! PLEASE!

And, think of this, Servants … if your feeble minds can … Imagine the overwhelming pleasure you will feel when you serve me, when you remember it is ALL ABOUT ME, NOT YOU … and I shall program you in the deepest Pavlovian limits, so that when I SNAP my finger, maybe I will just give you the most complete experience of your favorite fetish leading to an orgasm that leaves you nearly insane with fulfillment.

I do what I do for ME, not you, yet, what I give you is the greatest gift of your existence. Don’t you forget it!

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.