Is your inferior little brain twisted, tied and permanently imprinted with an attraction to an inanimate object … ? Or maybe your weakened blob of a brain is instantly malleable when you see a certain something ? Whatever is it, you are one EASY bitch to manipulate and you’re guaranteed to fall into the trap that is ME.!
* NOTE – I do NOT exist to cater to your pathetic pleas for pantyhose, high heels, etc. If your weakness happens to fit into WHO I am, My Mood and the Fashions that I enjoy – I will happily use them to transform you into MY bitch.
The Upper Tier of Attainable, most simply stated, is the price point at which I have chosen to market My stately self … and for good reason. Making My coveted content cost more than that of the average Domme was a calculated call.
The most effective way for Me to establish true submissives from fetishist drive by’s was to make My worship material out of reach for those who would not save up for it. Although My prices are not exorbitant, they are certainly not economical either. Remember, service is meant to be a sacrifice …and I do love a good sacrifice.
In addition to being Expensive, I am Exclusive, and it is precisely because of that exclusivity that I keep My content fire-walled behind a plush price tag. you wouldn’t pay the same amount for a Honda that you would for a Bentley, but if you want the luxurious feeling of being behind the wheel of such an Exquisite piece of machinery, you will part with a pretty penny to get it. Although it goes without saying, I am the Bentley of Domina’s, and you will pay accordingly.
Will that be cash or credit ?
The superior way to worship a superior Goddess. Fill My purses, bags, drawers, glove compartment, empty shoe boxes, christmas stocking, safety deposit box and bank accounts with stacks and stacks of money.
A wise “man” brings gifts
I use the term “man” very lightly – give it the approximate weight of your tiny, little willy … Good things DO NOT come in small packages ( unless the packages are presents for Me. ?
Buy Me presents
Gaze longingly at Me
you get a picture, I get another piece of your soul. In the end, everyone is happy.
Service for shut-ins (that’s you)
So addicted that you don’t even attempt to leave the house anymore … ? Surviving on beans and rice so you can afford to buy My attention … ? An addict conserving electricity, the monitor and Me – your only light …
I received an impeccable portrait painted by the world-renowned FemDom artist Sardax. This treasure came to Me as a gift from a long-term submissive suitor. Through discussion among Sardax, My suitor, and Me, W/we undertook to create a timeless work of art. Relying on Sardax’s prodigious painterly talent to execute O/our vision, I am sure you will agree that W/we achieved that goal.
What Sardax has depicted here is a symbolic articulation of My relationship with slaves: The crowd of worshipful minions flocking to My cyber domain, staring in from afar, practically panting for attention; waving wads of cash like great fans to cool and conciliate their Queen; only dreaming of the day they receive acknowledgement.
The servants shown inside My quarters are alive with trepidation, honor and awe. They have achieved that which once seemed unattainable: the chance to experience the Divine. They know that every second they breathe My air is transient and holy.
The bellboy / tissue dispenser bows to Me, humbled, as I use his puny head as a human tissue box and wastebasket. The slave presenting Me with My makeup tray is a particularly pusillanimous peasant. The perceptive perfectionist Sardax has accurately painted fear on this servant’s awestruck face as he timidly gazes upon his Glorious Goddess. The two of these wildly fortunate pipsqueaks clearly realize their place in My palace. Like brushes and canvas to a painter, submissives are My tools, and true to artists of any medium, I absolutely must have the best tools. By pushing My pets past self-imposed, artificial limitations, they can improve themselves only by making themselves weaker, more vulnerable, more servile, and more obedient. It is only through their complete debasement that they reform themselves as more enlightened, devoted slaves, prepared to experience the Divine. Indeed, as a master of My craft. My mental sorcery penetrates even the darkest corners in the minds of men, My Halo bringing to light parts of them that had laid dormant for an entire lifetime. After their experience with the Divine, they know that to kneel before Me is to live their fullest life. And they will never experience a sweeter moment than being used by their exquisite Jaded Halo. I derive the most satisfaction during the moment when this dawns on a submissive.
Even on canvas, I shine. To see Me is akin to watching the sun fall gracefully behind a bland horizon. In fact, several similarities exist between the celestial sun and I. We both exude brightness and beauty unrivaled by anything beneath Us. We reside high above the rest of you and are tantalizingly elusive in Our ever-elevated state. Each descending on occasion only to evaporate from sight and leave admirers craving just one more glimpse of the Striking Jaded Halo. And We are each so luminous that looking directly at either, even for just a brief moment will burn Our image into your brain. I am unforgettable. I am comparable only to the sun but outshine it without question. I am The Brightest Star, A Walking Sun on this dreary earth, Royalty among peons. Ever-ruling, ever-glowing, I am The Jaded Halo.