Goddess Marquesa

The Manchurian Myth

There is a classic movie that I love-hate: The Manchurian Candidate. I love it because it is very entertaining, with great performances by Frank Sinatra and Angela Landsbury. I hate it because it has very effectively spread harmful myths about hypnosis.

In one of the movie’s most famous scenes, the hero, Raymond Shaw, has been captured along with the rest of his platoon during the Korean War. He and all his comrades have been hypnotized by evil communist scientists. They think that they are at a women’s garden party in a quaintly charming old hotel back in the U.S. In reality they are seated in a sterile auditorium, being cross-examined by a doctor and observed by Russian, Chinese, and Korean military officers.

All of that is fine. I have placed many men into just such alternate realities. The damaging part comes when Raymond is ordered by the doctor to choke one of his friends to death, and does so with a smile.

That is just silly. Hypnosis does not wipe out who you are, or give anyone such complete control over your psychology and morality. No matter how deeply you are hypnotized, you remain you, and your values and priorities maintain intact.

I wouldn’t have it any other way, pets.

The sexy part – THE TURN ON….is overcoming your resistance. Touching the real you. When I bring you to a peak of ecstasy or torment you with pain and denial, you are there….you respond to what I do to you.

So take the plunge, pet. I can’t promise you it won’t hurt…where would the fun be in that? But I can guarantee you you will NOT regret it. I’ll be waiting for your call…….

The Deeper They Are, The Harder They Fall

In the movie Shallow Hal, a man is hypnotized so that he sees the inner beauty of everyone around him, and as a result falls in love with a woman he might not ever have noticed.

It is a very clever premise, and says more about the truth of hypnosis than perhaps even the screenwriter realized.

For you see, pets, I have enjoyed the attention of shallow men all of My life. I am gorgeous, of course, so the mere sight of My legs in a short dress or My tits in a low-cut blouse has had men follow Me home like lost puppies, panting and drooling all the way.

But the men who fall really hard for Me are the ones who can see My inner beauty. All men have the same shallow desires, but not everyone can appreciate or even sense the qualities of intelligence, taste, sensitivity, creativity, dynamism, and raw personal power that pulsate at My core. Those who can are not only helpless to resist My charms, they fall inevitably into a torturously sublime rapture of love and adoration. Those lucky men experience agony and ecstasy the likes of which few are privileged to know.

But here is something that Shallow Hal got right. Hypnosis can make you deeper. Digging in a man’s psyche is no different than digging in the earth- the process creates new depths. Let Me work on you, pet. If you think that I have thrilled you before, just wait to see what you will feel when I have given you a new perspective on My Beauty.

Cum for My Body, stay for My Power. That’s a good toy boy…

Can’t Win For Losing

The only winner in the Trojan War was Helen. Circe bewitched Odysseus. Clytemnestra fooled Agamemnon. Omphales enslaved Heracles. Penthesilea captured the heart of Achilles. Eurydice haunted Orpheus.

The list goes on and on. Name a man from myth or legend, I will name you a Woman who conquered him.

It’s not just the Greeks. Thor was wrestled to the ground by a Giantess. Shiva was slain by Kali. Merlin was imprisoned by Morgan Le Fay. And of course Samson was shorn by Delilah.

The REALLY funny thing is, ALL of these stories were created by men. EACH ONE came from the depths of a man’s soul. These sacred tales. These holy scriptures.

Every one is a wish. Every one is a  prayer.

To Me. To Goddess.

The impulse is deep. Irresistible. It has been there since the beginning. Time out of mind, generation after generation. Each father says, “Go out there and be a winner, son.” But really he is saying, “you don’t have a chance. you can run, but you can’t hide.”

you NEED to be conquered. you NEED to submit.

To Me. To Goddess.

Come, pet. Destiny calls. I am ready to accept your surrender. I won’t make it hurt……much.

A Spiritual Interlude

                A Dominatrix died. After passing through a bright light she found  Herself on a beautiful tropical island just like ones She had visited in vacations on earth, but instead of being surrounded by a sea of water it was surrounded by a sea of clouds. She was alone on the island but for one man. He was naked, his head shaved, and manacled securely, bent over a wooden frame with his ass in the air and a ball gag in his mouth.

Next to the man was a rack of various whips and other implements of torment. Selecting a riding crop the Dominatrix worked it on the man’s ass for a few strokes. It caused him great pain, but any marks that She inflicted disappeared right away.

“What fun!” She cried.

After an hour or so of beating the man she got bored and felt hungry.  Releasing him from the wooden frame, She commanded, “Go make me some dinner!”

An hour later she found the man roasting a bird over a spit, having made a fire on the beach.

Slap! She struck the man across the face with the flat of Her hand. “Fool! I’m a vegetarian!” She shouted.

After a lovely meal of grilled fruits and nuts, She felt sleepy and had the man make her a bed of soft palm fronds. She had him lie still and cover himself with soft leaves so that she could use his ass a pillow.

The next morning another man was manacled and gagged on the “A-frame.” She played with him for a while, beating him with canes and lashes. Removing his ball gag, she thrashed him with a cat-of-nine-tails while he sucked the cock of the man She had used as a pillow. When pillow-man came She forced them to trade places, and when each had blown a load into the other’s mouth she sent them off to build a shelter for Her and make Her another meal.

Time went by this way for several months. Every morning a new man would appear on the frame, and the Dominatrix would set him to work. Eventually there were so many men on the island that She was able to command them to build Her a palace, where she reigned as Queen. Slaves fanned Her as She lounged on Her throne, being fed grapes and watching men, oiled down and glistening, wrestling for the privilege to be Her bed slave that night, so that they could eat Her pussy or take Her strap-on up the ass.

One day She was being carried along the beach on Her sedan chair, followed by a group of men singing a song that one of them had composed about Her gorgeous beauty, when she saw a strange sight in the sky. It was a woman with golden wings, flying along playing a silver harp.

“Could that be?” She thought. “Yes….it must be…it’s an angel!”

“Halt!” She ordered Her sedan-chair slaves. “Shut up!” She commanded the choir of worshippers.

.                “Hey, you!” She shouted at the angel. “Come down here! I want to talk to you!”

The angel flew down to the beach, a serene smile on her face.

“How can I help You, Mistress?” the angel asked.

“I’m curious,” the Dominatrix said. “Is this Heaven?”

“Of course it is,” the angel answered, still smiling.

“That seems strange….” The Dominatrix mused. “You see, back on earth I did some questionable things. In my vanilla job I embezzled almost a million dollars from a company owned by this sexist pig I worked for. I meant to give it back, but I never got the chance before my sudden death. I’m surprised that despite my peccadillos I have come to Heaven.”

The angel furrowed her brow uncomfortably, and stuttered, “I-I-I’m sorry, Mistress…You misunderstand.” Gesturing to the men standing all around, listening wide-eyed, the angel explained, “This is Heaven for them.”


The End

Rites of Spring

In the Spring a full Pink Moon casts rosy tints upon the sea,

In the Spring a young sub’s fancy deeply turns to thoughts of………..Me.

That is what Tennyson wrote. Well…..it’s what he would have written if I had the chance to be alone with him for a few minutes.

It’s Spring, pets, and that means you can feel it. That energy pulsating up from the earth. The vital, creative force. The life returning to the world all around you. It makes you soar. It makes you thrill. It makes you…..HORNY.

There is only one place that you can direct that energy, My sweet subbies. Bring it to Me. Lay it on My altar. I am the Vernal Goddess of the season…..the Beacon of Light and Life that haunts your waking dreams and your deepest fantasies.

Come, I am ready. I am what brings the blush back to the flower and the song back to the Garden. I will take you down deep and raise you up high. Do you have a choice? I will let you decide…..HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA


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