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.

Valentines Day Entry Winner

Why did this one win? First he's learned humility. He begins by thanking me for an opportunity most of you asswipes havn't learned I have little interest in yet. As he notes, I don't really care what pleases you... I don't have to.

But even better, he's learned to find even more satisfaction in serving my needs, than gains in gratifying his self. He has discovered a world beyond his cock, and that world is the unending world of lust I create.

this is a man who came to me as an asswipe and learned how to be more, and offer satisfaction to me, rather than find an outlet for his meager orgasm.

So happy Valentine's Day to him this year, I am pleased someone earned that much from me. This asswipe has earned a pvt cam induction followed by several of my new seductive pics(and it's only getting hotter) and a copy of my hypnotic seduction video which will be available to others shortly.

Entry Below


Goddess, like all your other loyal servants I thank you for this rare opportunity. In the years I have served you, this is the first chance I can recall, that I’ve not only gone without punishment for telling you my ideal of how it should be, but encouraged to speak up as well.

We both know I was an asswipe before your guidance. I was simply after my own gratification and indulgences at the expense of a beautiful woman of your caliber. But you taught me better, that one that can have anything she desires would not settle for the sweaty, grunting thrusts of a man only concerned with his own explosion. That one, who wishes to be in your presence and experience pleasure with you, must first earn his way.

That is the way of life, nothing spectacular ever just happens. For something to be cherished it must be earned.

But you also taught me to appreciate the struggle. Years ago I think this letter I write now would be littered with pointless and short term penetrations. But instead my ideal session continues the more subtle aspects of obedience as pleasure you have taught me.

You deny me. You withhold my release. And in such ways my pleasure is extended, not for the 20 minutes most men experience, but for days, months… mind boggling amounts of time. I pity lesser men who never learn to appreciate this struggle.

But my ideal session now doesn’t promote me to gratification, but instead to greater levels of denial. Hands bound behind me and head fixed in position as you taunt my eager body, begging for a touch that never comes. Forcing me to please your orally and taste you with no return for me.

Even greater depths of sustained pleasure as you indulge in other men before my eyes. All of them hell bent on bringing you to orgasm. And yet my desire is never quenched through orgasms, as their’s is. But instead I am to be your hygiene tool, simultaneously repulsed as I slurp away their semen from you, but also just grateful for at least that bit of contact with your beauty.

My ultimate session is about the new sensibilities you have instilled in me. Pleasing you, extending my own excitement beyond the fornication, and treasuring each subtle opportunity to be a part of your eroticism.

-Asswipe

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.

The Experiment II -A Reborn Saphireist-Now Available!!!

You know you have only given up a fraction of your mind, body, and soul to me. You are now reborn as a Saphireist. Begin to open your mind, and I will unchain all those hyper-sexual, deviant, lusting thoughts. Then to really blow you mind, I will create in you entire identities based on your most secret cravings, and trigger their freedom to act out in more ways delivering more ecstasy than you ever imagined.

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.......

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.

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)