brainwash

Hypnotic Propaganda. 1 by OSD.

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For a few months, I've been quietly searing minds. I still prefer to stay outside of the "scene" elements of financial domination and fetish, my business models are non-standard and so there's little upside in "competing" categorically. But my clip stores still draw viewers such that I end up on top lists...oh 

Of course, I can always have more money, from any source. So I can't say it's not pleasing to see. 

I've produced about 111 clips in the past year or so. With so much unrest in the world, having an artistic outlet has been therapeutic. Many of these releases are uniquely terrifying, blurring the lines of fantasy and reality. True mind fuck. Some fall into more established genres, safer, if that's a thing...

Sales have been steadily increasing, particularly on PSYCHOKINK.com (IWC) where I have the best cut of sales and tributes. Some of my content is also available on NITEFLIRT and CLIPS4SALE

Top Sellers by month so far...


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Because I know that the internet is teeming with cheap perverts, both anecdote and analysis tells me that baiting is an effective strategy. This clip sold almost 100 copies, so by far the highest in number. But what's more important is that it triggered several weeks-long binges in unwitting would-be addicts who thought they'd just drool over a cheap clip of my legs in pantyhose. 

Oops. 

By dollar amount, WEAPON OF CHOICE - HYPNO POV 

I don't care what your substance is. I don't care if it's just me. I think we both know it's me. 

Honestly, don't buy this. It will destroy you. Not only is it a aesthetic masterpiece. But my words are wound so tightly that you will put it on repeat and brainwash yourself into oblivion. Your life will never be the same after you watch this and you'll only have yourself to blame. It's expensive because it's too intense to be left out like a toy. You're my toy. Aren't you? Good boy. You're a very good boy. 

 

FEBRUARY - FINDOM GFE

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Near and dear to my heart, just a little Valentine's day romp about a high-end call girl setting you up and turning you into her little bitch, just like you've always secretly dreamt of. 

MARCH - Pussy is Not For You

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Just because society conditioned you to think every man deserves sex doesn't mean it's true. Pussy is not for you. You know it. I know it. So we might as well enjoy it. 

Obviously I enjoy locking men up in chastity, whether mental or material. Keeping you out of the trouble that comes with having no control over your cock is a luxury service and should be compensated as such. You're welcome.

APRIL - BLACK WIDOW BRAINWASH

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It's been hard lately for you. You read every clip description. You can feel the pressure building. I know the patterns, too. 

Nothing about you is new to me. I've lived this cycle a thousand times. So when you finally break down and come to me ready to hear about what's happening to you, you should know that I have been expecting you. I designed it that way. 

And as you sit beneath me now, you notice you are calm. If giving in a little seems to relieve, imagine what else I could make you believe.

This is a classic, dark induction. 

MAY - WOUND UP FOR ME. TRANCE POV. 

You understand implicitly that every word I write is engineered to one end: To control you. You can feel that I've done something to you, even just by reading these descriptions. You know the only way to save yourself is to run...but you can't move. Did I slip you something? Would I even need to?

To reiterate your captivity, I have a single ribbon. I've bound you so tightly that no restraint is needed. 

This series was filmed in a haunted hotel in New England. The creepiness is palpable. 

JUNE - EXPLOITS:  MIND CONTROL POV

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The more I let you see, the more hopeless you get for me. 

Filmed in a high-rise in Soho, I explain to you more about what you've been feeling and why I'm doing this to you. 

New York City subs who may remember me well....or simply with reverence...will be pleased to learn about my return to the city that made me. All inquiries for appointments or offers of service will be received with tribute, as usual, so long as they are submitted respectfully.


These are all essentials for a devoted admirer to own. Though obviously, the most dedicated supplicants own all of my art works. I plan on escalating the rest of the year. I've been ghost producing for years now, behind the scenes of this stunning, lucrative, and nearly-opaque cover (thanks sex work stigma). I see no reason to relent now. 

Being indirect has never yielded results. If you've been dying to meet me (some of you for years), I will be in Los Angeles from July 14-20. Be a big boy and say hello. 

xx, Ms Smith


Adoration. by OSD.

YOU ARE ON THE LEDGE. AFRAID TO STEP OFF.

With each second that passes. The weight of your thoughts becomes heavier. 

You are coming undone. 

You've fought for a long time now to prevent yourself from falling. 

You understand that some powers are impossible to resist, and

some forces are inevitable. 

your trajectory is sealed. 

and as the clock ticks off the seconds of your life...

you know that you owe each one to me. 

XO, BARDOT. 

p.s. With each item, the story unfolds...

The Mechanisms of Control: Capital and Influence. by OSD.

Influence is a matter of compelling subtleties.
Control is leveraging them creatively.


My professional experience is obscured from view at this point. Some of it is classified. This is my outlet to the extent that it can be. My training, initially, was quantitative...understanding the relationship that things have to each other mathematically, dynamically. My natural skill is in the analysis and statement of these relationships through language, in whatever manner I choose. 

I am an anomaly. Off the charts. Outside of the bounds of what's allowed, especially for a woman. Gifted. Furious. And, fed up. 

I will make no further apologies for it.

When I started this site, it was an offshoot of my existence. It was a channel of my thoughts on the subjects I was discussing. As an extension of my perennial fixation on the excessive force of capital. 

I grew up in the bubble of 1980's America. By the late-eighties crash, my family had fallen into that burst and the real-estate bubble that followed. I observed my father's contraction and witnessed the effect that it had on the male ego. I spent my saturdays reading the Barron's from as soon as i could understand what it was. You could say that my financial fetish started from an early age. I understood that CAPITAL was the manifestation of power, a function of influence. Not debt, not prestige, not alleged status. Whether on a micro- or macro-scale, it represented choice and leverage. 

CAPITAL FOLLOWS INFLUENCE. 

Being born female, I had an interesting conflict to reconcile. By 15, I had to escape the blue-collar outskirts. Instead of running away, I secured myself a scholarship to an elite prep school. Academics, themselves, were always easy. I was more concerned with observing the mechanisms of wealth and power around me. I applied it with the distinct advantage of being unexpected, underestimated. A dark horse. I followed it into the ivy league and its secret societies. I quickly assimilated the relationship to the male ego, and my turnkey status in that triangulation. 

Equipped to convey ultimate pleasure. Or ultimate pain. 

With ease, I achieved what many struggle for. I am infuriating. I realize this. And, for a while, I felt insecure about it. I had only wanted to find a purposeful place for myself from an early age.

But, I had overshot. I was out on open ocean, as it were. No longer an object, having achieved a degree of command of my own mind and in the world that most men will never dream to achieve. Yet becoming increasingly attractive as I matured. 

I am a weapon. 

A turning point occurred when I realized I could not apologize for having been given these skills and having created the opportunities to leverage them. I had to take them to their full expression. So here we are. 

I entered the demimonde that is financial domination at the end of 2013. But I had been executing its practice since adolescence. Quickly after I built this platform, copies arose, appropriating my style of communication as it is particularly compelling. They carry on, not understanding that this is no act, not merely a fetish, not meant to be contained in the demimonde itself. But a means to an end, gravity, the assemblage of critical mass.

Beyond fetish. Beyond any one industry.

A DEVASTATING EXPRESSION OF TRUTH... 

Those lines are, after all, imposed by the limited to be limiting. Seems....like a waste of natural ability, in my opinion. While the internet has made it simple for anyone with a pair of tits to perform the superficial machinations of domination, the artform is in the complete capitalization of its underlying tenets.

Financial domination is not crystalized in the seizure of funds, it is not in building a following of perverted sycophants begging you for attention (or worse, humoring them). It is not in status. 

It is the magnetic draw, the unwavering influence of the mind. 

And using that influence to press your full advantage. Elite successful men have been performing this for years. This is my venue to educate the feminine equivalent. In that sense, it is staggering. I do not perform. I do not dress up. I do not "cam" and I do not quid-pro-quo with perverts. I've found that men-at-large are so used to getting things on their terms that they believe even their submission should come with levers which they can control. This is reaffirmed by the cadre of women available online who will acquiesce to the desires of the "customer" online. That betrays the nature of this practice and it is not what will ever occur here.

I offer the opportunity for total loss of control. The purest expression of power exchange. 

The complex power of the feminine is so overwhelming that, even in submission to fantasy, males prefer to retain control of the practice or to contain it and set terms. Society has been built around this, after all. But the realm on the edges of sexuality and power exchange is where men are *specifically* at a disadvantage, easily knocked from their sense of power.

For this reason, even the illicit businesses of fantasy and sex have been contained to the terms prescribed by mainstream business, even when hiding in plain sight. Whether legal or not, they mirror the norms of that world. It is based on familiarity or the belief that women are at an inherent disadvantage so the interaction between she and a man needs to be contained to protect her. Or worse...extorted at a premium for the profit and advantage of men running the industries.

A strong businesswoman can become successful by approximating a business man's behaviors, but she was still accommodating men on their terms. Society has been built around their interests, and here they will find the reverse.

I am interested in total subversion. A freedom of sorts. 

This is not for the masses, the faint of heart. I realize that I am terrifying. That's fine. My practice is sane, but I tolerate nothing but adherence to my terms. Not many are prepared to present at my doorstep, to learn the truth of their natures, to witness the outlines of their vulnerabilities. The dynamic is not sealed before your arrival into it. I could give a fuck less what your cock does. This is not about you. This is not a service; it is an education.

Natural dominance is alive and well. And it's got nothing to do with the superficialities. When you let go, you will experience a meeting of MINDS.  

WINNER TAKE ALL. THE NATURAL ORDER. 

Do you even dare?
xo, Bardot. 

Your Undoing. by OSD.

You are...shaking. A loop plays over in your mind. Again... again... again...

Nerves? Exhilaration? Or the volatile reaction to my presence searing the edges of your consciousness? You never saw it coming.  

All the minute forces, the sticky glue that previously sustained your world disintegrating into the void. There is nothing to be done.

Your unraveling is inescapable. It's only just begun. The initiation is swift. Your trajectory is inevitable.

When I think of how your mind spins, the corners of my lips turn up. First one. Then the other.

Poor little creature. Welcome to your undoing. 

 

Two can play this game. 
xo, Bardot.