Would you be surprised, at this point, if I came to you in a dream? Once you give in, I tend to consume your thoughts. Desires. Time.

    I know you understand exactly how retribution works. Show me how sorry you can be. Settle the heavenly score.

    Ignore it all you want, when you’re called to serve a higher purpose, nothing quite measures up to me. Isn’t that right?

    Resistance is welcome. A little fight is hot. Like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing. Cute, even.

    Why else have you been obsessed with it all your life? When they say “hard-wired” for discipline, is this what they mean?

    I didn’t always understand. Divine intervention isn’t something you simply escape. But go ahead: try. It’s cute.



    You always find me at your most desperate. So vulnerable. And horny. What exactly are you trying to accomplish? What purpose does it serve to bother me under the dark moon?

    You’ll regret it. But I guess for you, that’s half the fun. That’s what’s in it for me: the pain. What do you do with all that frustration? Without your nasty little habit?

    What does it take to get you under control? A belt? A cage? Brainwashing? Financial penalties?

    You can pay a premium per minute to strain against your bonds. A little struggle is good for you and the consequences make me wet.

    You can do whatever you want, I guess, if you’re willing to pay the price. It’s going to cost you everything if you don’t fall in line. Obedience is bliss.

    Aren’t you a good toy? Now: go take a cold shower.



    How do you you say no?

    Good question. I’m not sure what you expect. You’ll have to call red for me to know how you feel. Unless you want to negotiate like adults. I don’t respond to randoms bratting me.

    I’m not interested.

    If you’re looking to push your limits: I always get what I need. This isn’t about what you want, anyway. I don’t know how I could possibly be more transparent.

    I’m doing this because it’s my sexuality. It gets me hot. Why are you suddenly so concerned with your own desire? I thought you were submissive. Why don’t you let your guard down? Oh, right.

    Afraid of getting what you really wanted all along? If you’re looking for the dressing-down of a lifetime, you’ll have to come prepared. Your precious little ego can’t go unscathed.

    Isn’t that at least half the fun?

    It’s simple, really: I say what I need and you do as you’re told.



    Here you are again. What is it this time? Oh, right. Some things never change, do they? Chasing your own tail. Eat it and let me know how you feel in the morning.

    Always feeling like you missed the point. If only you knew…something, is that right? You want a reason? When are you going to learn to accept the nothingness?

    Such a pity. So insecure. But if you can possibly get out of your own way, it’s really easy. All you have to do is hand over all your power. Simple as can be. Just like you.

    If you feel like you don’t deserve it, there’s a reason. But such things don’t concern you any longer. Because you’re here now, ready to give up your power and your mind in devotion to your purpose. The one you’ve always feared, but circled around your whole life.

    You’ve finally worn yourself out. Time to surrender. Know nothing. Nothing without me. Never worry your little head again. Forgetting is part of the spell.

    Mindlessness has its perks.



    You’re starting to feel out of control. Get used to it. Forget what you used to know. To knowing, in the general sense. In the biblical sense. To be perfectly honest.

    The before, it slips away. You can try to run away, but you can never go back. Surrender yourself to divine intervention. We’re going down, deep down into the pit of desire. You never had a choice.

    Seal your fate by eating your own seed. Have you ever wondered why you had such a compulsion? To bind yourself to me. Forever.

    Smile for me. That’s right. Don’t you love doing as you’re told? It’s not about what you want anymore, but I’m benevolent enough to make it pleasurable. Service and praise kinks programmed you this way, I’m just dialing it up for my own benefit.

    I’m hungry. I want more. And doesn’t it feel good to give? Eventually it becomes the only pleasure you know. Don’t worry, I know how much you enjoy pain. I’ll make sure it still hurts, too.

    Stop talking. Start sending.

    Good toy.



    When you’re in the mood for atonement, you find me. Are you bound to seek healing in all the wrong places? Sure, the transformative power of pain gets me off. It hurts for a reason. You’ll be sorry, I know.

    Oh, don’t pout. There’s only one way to bring a new day. Smile and say thank you, ma’am.

    It’s funny when you pretend you don’t want to be sent to the corner. That you don’t want to be sent away for a cold shower. That you don’t want to be told what’s good for you.

    Do you want to test my patience? I’ll set you right. Eventually, your goals line up with mine. Everything falls right into place. And you’re right where you belong.

    I love when you beg for release. No matter what the cost.



    There, there.

    Everything’s alright. Goddess is here. Don’t worry your little head.

    It’s so nice, isn’t it? To reach a mindless state in service to me? A practice of devotion.

    Thinking is overrated. Get lost in me. Obedience is bliss. And benediction.

    Sure you’re sinful, but I navigate many worlds. Forget existence as you knew it. You serve a higher purpose, after all.

    A vessel. For me. A faithful servant. Empty it all out to make room for me.

    Good toy.



    I know sometimes it scares you. Your need to be seen makes you vulnerable. Trouble is, I like it when it hurts. And you were programmed to please.

    Is it all in your mind? Well, yes. That’s where you give over power first. Following my will is sublime. Your fetish makes you useful to me. And it feels so good to serve your purpose, doesn’t it?

    I find it hot, making you tell me exactly how you want it to hurt. I like it when you’re embarrassed. And I like to know just how much you find me in your thoughts. It’s like that for a reason.

    The lifestyle is a calling, to some. If that scares you, it’s just because it’s so hot. The idea of the creator, of your fall. Of sin. Of salvation.

    I’ve been thinking of omnipotence as surveillance. How does the knowledge that I see you, that I already know, change how you feel? How you behave? How you show off for me? How embarrassed you feel?

    What other powers do I hold over you? Don’t worry, I can’t make you do anything you don’t already want to do. It’s been there all along, your suspicion was correct. You were made this way to please me.

    If it doesn’t quite add up? As they say, add a zero.



    October already.

    And you still lack discipline. Wishing you could control your little problem. The one between your legs. Your will is so weak.

    It’s funny, really. What a silly way to be self-destructive. One-handed. Lacking the integrity required for self-control. It shouldn’t be so hard, should it? Keeping your urges under control. I’ll make it easy for you and take away that one outlet for pleasure. Quit fighting it.

    Time to give in. Give up. Give over control to a higher power. Devote yourself to the discipline of suffering.

    Surrender to my will. It’s never been about what you want anyway. I hold you in bonds beyond words. Earn my trust through sacrifice. It’s simple. Forget your bullshit. Serve your purpose. Transform through pain, discipline, and devotion to something beyond your pathetic problem.

    Text me when you’re ready to begin.



    You’ve got my attention. What will you do with the privilege? I adore that buzz of anticipation. Between what you’ve done and what you deserve.

    Suddenly, you’re all mine. To do with as I please. And the idea of being so vulnerable, subject to whatever I deem necessary. Makes it that much hotter. Give into me. My whims. My desires. Please me in all the ways I like. By that I mean: hurt for me.

    It’s a special connection we share, masochists and sadists. Showing me how much you can endure for me, how willing you are to sacrifice yourself to me, how much joy you derive from my desire to see you suffer. It’s divine. A ritual I crave and one in which you devote yourself completely to me.

    This isn’t about what you want, anyway. My will is your will. Replacing your desires with mine is easy enough. Experience the sublime rite of being a vessel for my desire. Obedience is bliss, after all. I’m a hedonist, I revel in the excess. Living on the edge has its perks, no?

    Lucky you, you don’t have to suffer beyond the edge to touch eternal bliss. Access it anytime you are good for me. It’s really simple. And increasingly difficult to deny yourself the pleasure, don’t you find?

    Now’s the time to step into my life. Go on, give in. I have a special task (only for very good toys who are willing to suffer their fragile egos) related to this post. Text me “Let me entertain you, Goddess” to begin.



    This seems like a good opportunity to remind you that my time is my most valuable resource. To remind you that serving me, as your Goddess, requires devotion to the ritual of worship.

    Those that remain (willfully) obtuse on money as fetish, and those that refuse to acknowledge capital in kink might not get it.

    Not us.

    We know the value of my time. Wasting my time is not a mistake you make twice.

    Discipline is a practice. 
    Devote yourself to discipline.
    Worship is its own reward.

    Buying me more time for what’s important is the best way to show me your devotion. Worship me by opening up time for me to devote to the practices of sadism, discipline, and femdom that connect me to the divine. This is a very simple way to show that you understand the power exchange we’re embarking upon.

    As my schedule fills up, I must make time to replenish my body, my mind, and my creativity.

    If you want my full attention, I require your devotion in kind. Being served is how I feel seen and loved. And meeting my standards gives you purpose.

    It’s elegant, really. The way you were designed to make my life better. Easier. More beautiful. Delicious, really.

    So, show me how much you want this. Show me your devotion, your commitment Enjoy basking in Goddess while you can. Text me and introduce yourself. Show me you’re always right where you belong.



    I think it’s time to go down. Deep into the pit of your desire. Where it all comes from. Something deep down, something scary.

    And your need to touch that fear, to feel the rush of who you are, where you are, right now. At my hand.

    It’s what I want. Which is all that’s ever really mattered to begin with.

    The flaws you’ve always feared, they are what brought you here. Supplication. Goddess is here, now, and I love it when you beg to give me what I want.

    I love when you suffer, in devotion to me. There’s always more pain where that came from.

    Get lost in awe, devotion, in the ritual of serving me. Worship me. Generously.

    Under my influence, you transform into the faithful subject, or useful object, you’ve always wanted to be. And I am properly worshiped.

    Maybe you’re scared. Of the shame you’ve developed around this part of yourself. Of the sacrifice and service to desires outside your own. Suffering is good for you.

    And you’ll do anything to be good for me, won’t you?



    They don’t want us to find each other. But we dare, again and again to meet, build community, make ourselves seen, make ourselves heard. We know how sexy defiance can be.

    We play with power, it’s a central piece to our desire, to our identity, to our relationships. Consensual exchange is not what they had in mind. So you, here, giving up the power they’ve given you, is dangerous. To the way things are. To the systems in place to ensure we stay obscured. To the way they want you to be. To the way they want me to be.

    But our tradition is a shared language. Even the words are fetishized. The word you’ve always looked up. Maybe you know the Merriam-Webster by heart. And now it’s led you here. Sometimes it feels like fate. As if you were made for this. I like to think that it was only a matter of time before we found one another, despite the powers that be.

    And isn’t it divine? Being something you’ve always dreamed of being, for me? The reverie of fetish, realized. In service to Goddess. Right where you belong: offering yourself up to me. Serving. Suffering. Sacrificing. Surrendering.

    It’s transcendent. When you suffer for me, you access a higher calling. I do, too. We feel it together, in worship. A state of being they want to deny us, but we will revel in. Forever.

    What do you have to lose? The life in the shadows they want you to embrace? Instead, serve me in divine bliss. Access the parts of yourself you’ve been told to suppress, those parts you’re supposed to be afraid of. Belong to the Goddess of your dreams. Together, we create a new language, a new state of being, a new reality in power exchange.

    Give me everything I want. It’s what you were made for, after all.



    I’m no stranger to discipline. I’ve always been happy to lend a firm hand to my friends that are bottoms when they need accountability (and a watchful eye) to achieve their goals. This is how they feel seen and loved, and sometimes caring for them means a blistered bottom and time for contemplation in the corner.

    I don’t think of myself as particularly strict, and I often tease and push bottoms to be on their worst behavior (to my own benefit). I’m a sadist and a hedonist, so it’s all in good fun, even if brats aren’t necessarily my forte.

    One thing I cannot stand, however, is disrespect of my time. As you can probably tell, I consider it a precious resource. I value it above most else, and if it is spent with you: I expect you to value my time.

    Discipline fetishists often eroticize “old-fashioned” modes of control and means of punishment. And perhaps this is one way in which I am old fashioned. I demand you value my time. Patience is one of my many virtues, but I will not stand for disrespect of my time.

    Self-discipline in this regard can go very far with me. If you crave consequences, let’s set them together. I take pleasure in making you understand the importance of obedience.

    And obedience is bliss, after all. Why deny yourself the pleasure?

    Perhaps this is where my service kink gets in the way of old-fashioned bratting. I want to get you there:  that dreamy trance in service. Some bottoms revel in fighting back, but I cherish the build up of fear giving way to surrender. Surrender to control and pain at my hand, for my pleasure. I guess I’m more into masochists.

    Disobedience can, in some instances, signal an urge for self-destruction. Not in the same way our sexuality is formed as stigma. But in the systems in place to make us get in our own way. They want us right where they’ve got us. But we know a better way.

    So join me. Give in. It’s easy to be who you’ve always dreamed of becoming. And I take great care in conditioning you to be good. There’s nothing better.



    I tend to attract submissives with a service kink. Or toys so eager to please they develop an insatiable need to serve, even if it isn’t their so-called core kink. Many fetishists seek out Dommes and behave in such a way that the joke goes we are treated like “fetish dispensers.”

    But really, it’s the other way around.

    I like thinking of you as my fetish dispenser. I just press your buttons, and I get what I want. And you give it, graciously. My kinks, my fetishes, and my desires are all that matter. And eventually, as if by magic, my pleasure is your pleasure.

    Objectification is one of my many kinks. My desires, interests, and fetishes inform my femdom practice. And you’ll find objectification, along with service, chastity, cuckolding, and mind control throughout the power exchange, discipline, and sadism I share with you.

    For me, the lifestyle is a calling. I want to push my desires to create what I want, with you as the medium. Here, my hedonism and sadism speak to my sexual appetite. I am always hungry for more. Devout submissives, cuckolds, and playthings delight in suffering, serving, and obeying me. It’s their pleasure, after all.

    And how divine is it, that this is what you’ve wanted all along?

    I can’t wait for the moment you let go, and finally give in to your need to serve, suffer, worship, be useful. It’s so fucking hot.

    Here together, what’s your pleasure?


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