I love blackmail. Not just for what it does to you, but for what it reveals about you. The moment you hand Me that first secret, that first picture, that first humiliating little confession—you think you still have control. you think you’re just playing along. How cute. How pathetic.
But I know better. I always do.
See, blackmail isn’t about threats. It’s about certainty. It’s about owning you in ways you never saw coming. Watching you squirm, watching you second-guess yourself, watching the realization dawn on you that this isn’t just a game anymore—that’s what I love. The slow, delicious unraveling. The moment you understand, deep in your gut, that you can’t take it back. That I won’t let you.
And oh, the power it gives Me. Power over your choices. Power over your fears. Power over that trembling little mind of yours as it races through all the what-ifs. The desperate, pathetic hope that maybe I’ll be merciful. That maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you slip away.
I won’t.
Because why would I? Why would I let go of something so precious? Why would I ever give up the pleasure of watching you struggle, knowing I hold all the cards? I love blackmail because it strips away the illusion of control. It turns your fear into My pleasure. It keeps you on edge, keeps you obedient, keeps you mine.
So go ahead. Keep pretending you’re still free. Keep telling yourself this isn’t real. But we both know the truth, don’t we? you belong to Me now. Because I don’t just enjoy blackmail.
I get off on it.
xxx Goddess Lynne