The dictionary suggests Blackmail is taking something from someone against their will by threatening them in some way.  Yet I have dozens of freaks who come crawling to me begging me to blackmail them.  They beg me to take their personal details –  and much to amusement they even pay for the privilege of divulging potentially incriminating material to me. 

They get so turned on by me having a potentially disastrous hold over their lives and paying a fortune to prevent me using the information against them. 

I love it too – or at least I love the cash that flows so readily from those pathetic idiots.  And if I am honest I also get a kick from feeling their fear.  For instance, it is so thrilling to start posting information on line and see the desperate emails and donations that pour in as they beg me to delete it or publish no more.  It is amazing how the threat of exposure can suddenly free up a piggy’s wallet who has previously been claiming to have given all he can.

And if he can’t afford it and I end up ruining his life then no matter – there are always plenty more blackmail freaks in line begging Me to take them for all they have.  And even among those I do ruin there are always plenty who eventually come back begging for more – and if they have the wherewithal then I shall of course oblige.

Such fun for me, but is it really blackmail? 

For while the lives of these freaks are often littered with debt, relationship breakdown, shattered reputations and an eternally unquenchable addiction to giving to Me, they are undoubtedly consenting.

  Some may periodically be consumed with self-loathing and despair but they know that being blackmailed by me gives them a rush of adrenalin and a sense of purpose that nothing else in life can give them. 

I know some are now sleeping on the streets but I know they comfort themselves each night by tossing themselves to sleep wishing they were still being blackmailed by me.  However, is that blackmail really when they have consented all the way into the gutter?

Maybe not, but what about those who cannot do anything else but consent?  There are those who become so besotted by me that they will do anything I say.  I click my fingers and they jump.  Give me this, I say and they give.  Buy me this, I say and they buy.  Do this for me and they do.  And for all this they expect nothing in return.  Being allowed to obey me is all that matters to them in their otherwise lonely miserable lives.  Of course, I know they long for so much more but would never dare voice it because they know they deserve nothing.  I call them My Easy Boys.

One such easy boy is piggy stuart.

He snorted his way to Me just before Christmas 2010 having come across my Clips4Sale:

In fact, one of his first purchases had been my $99 clip: 2 minutes of me laughing at a stupid loser.  A very stupid loser indeed, but a profitable one – hmm.  He was a retired optician who had never married and had a decent pension and healthy savings. 

Of course, as he was so easy he very quickly used up all his savings on me.  He got almost nothing from me – just the occasional email to say “Good Boy” which I know used to excite him immensely – and of course I let him follow my journal, and adore my pictures on Twitter.  Yet, even although he was giving me so much I always felt something was not quite right – that with his pension he should really have been giving me more.

I began to wonder if he was lying about not being married as countless piggies do so I decided to get the full truth out of him once and for all.

I knew from his rambling emails of devotion that the first Woman to arouse his submissive tendencies had been Joan Collins since he had first seen her in the old film ‘Land of the Pharaohs’ and he claimed he had spent most of the rest of his life wanking off to her pictures, films and, of course, her ‘Dynasty’ TV series.  So, I told him to handwrite a pretend letter to Joan detailing all his sordid little fantasies about her – with his address at the top and signed at the end.  He was only too eager to do this task – primarily because I told him to – and of course I got him to send the letter to me for safe-keeping.

I didn’t read all his lurid longings, just enough to know that if ever Joan received it she would probably report him to the police for sexual harassment and he would end up on the sex-offenders register.  When I told him this, instead of just being frightened he told me it was thrilling to know that I had the power to destroy his reputation.

That’s when I told him I now wanted to know everything about him e.g. name and address of the vicar of the church he attended; his optician’s professional registration details; the details of the local charity on whose management committee he sat; and contact details for his local Probus Club.

It was in the course of these disclosures that it came out there was indeed another Woman in his life – not a wife (thank God no Woman had had to live with this freak), but his cleaning lady Mrs Shilling.  It turned out he was employing her to clean his house for two hours two days a week and was paying her £160 cash in hand!  £40 an hour for cleaning!

No one pays a cleaner £40 an hour, I thought and on probing I learned there was more to it than that.  It turned out that piggy stuart had a little crush on Mrs Shilling which accounted for some of his generosity and he also had a lot of guilt which accounted for the rest.  When Mrs Shilling arrived at his house she would change into her flat work shoes leaving her walking shoes under the chair in the dining room beside her handbag, coat and scarf.  When she went upstairs to hoover the bedroom, stuart would then crawl into the dining room and kiss and sniff her shoes and lick the soles clean.  He would also find himself kissing her coat and draping the scarf over his face to inhale her scent.  He would do it quickly and in a panic for fear he might get caught.  He wouldn’t dare wank there and then but instead wait until she had left and relieve himself on the memory.  I confess I laughed out loud at how pathetic this dirty old loser was and, of course, was disgusted by his tawdriness and deceit.

So, I told him I wanted a photograph and a hand-written confession.  Again, he could not help but obey and within days the letter arrived and he emailed me photographs of him kneeling in the dining room kissing one shoe and with the other shoe hanging on his cock.  The funny thing is that the shoes weren’t even sexy – very practical but of course it was the nearest thing to physical female contact he had.  The photographs gave me the idea to get him to spice up his confession so I told him to add in that he did actually wank into her shoe and then would lick the inside clean. Of course, the idiot obeyed.

I told him that unless he wanted Mrs Shilling to receive the incriminating evidence he was to sack her – that £160 should be coming to me each week, not her.  However, in a spirit of sisterhood I told him that he must sign over his BMW car to her as a redundancy payment.   Of course, I would then receive what he saved on car insurance and road tax.

From then on it has been plain sailing.  Stuart sold the house to get a tiny flat and gave me the proceeds; he has cancelled subscriptions to church, charity and Probus (although I have retained the contact details); 80% of his income is now mine and I am the sole beneficiary in his will for when he pops his pathetic clogs.

But the question remains: is this blackmail?  In a way it is because I know that piggy stuart can refuse me nothing because he is so “in love” with me and so in a sense he is beyond consent because refusal is just not possible.  On the other hand, in the eyes of the law everything he has given me he has given voluntarily and I have merely obliged him.

So is it blackmail? The truth is I don’t care.  Piggy stuart and others like him provide me with lots of cash that give me the life of luxury I deserve and at the end of the day that is all that matters on any level.  But I also know it matters to them too – it is the only thing that gives their otherwise worthless lives any meaning. Isn’t that a gift more precious than the mere material trinkets they give me?  I may be a Greedy Goddess but I am also Good.  Hmm.

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