August Derleth wrote a short sci-fi story I read when I was a teenager. I don’t remember the title, but it was about this beautiful alien who shows up on earth all by herself. Whenever she meets someone, invariably male, who stands in the way of her goal of world conquest, she hands him this stone she’s carrying. It is so pleasant to the touch, the man automatically begins to stroke it. The sexy alien talks to him about how pleasant the stone feels. I’ll bet you can’t imagine what happens as she does so.

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! This tape could be the latest model of that stone!

The amount of material on the tape is formidable, especially considering it’s only 30 minutes— though you’ll swear it seems to go by in 5.

The suggestions range from the most sweet and innocent—you will relax, feel so heavy and tired; you trust your beautiful mistress—to the romantic—you feel all the physical and emotional sensations of being in love with your mistress—to the erotic, where she can really “kick in the ‘burners” as we used to say, referring to the head-snapping acceleration as the afterburners lit. And when she has you deepest, when her words are the most delicious things that ever floated between your ears, she ever so smoothly suggests that you crave the feeling of being hypnotized by her fabulously sexy voice…that you crave the feeling of helplessness under her magical power…that you crave the sensation of being humiliated by her.

The first few times she slips that into your subconscious, you know how Wiley Coyote feels for that split second after he goes off the cliff. You’re not falling–not yet–you just realize there’s nothing under under your feet. You feel like giving a stupid little wave.

The tape works gradually—almost imperceptibly. By tonight, a week after receiving it (and after listening to it an embarrassing number of times—as many as I could cram into my schedule–even claiming a bad back and needing to lie down often and relax it–which was a real joke, since my back was probably aching because of the way the tape made another part of my lower anatomy feel), I was drifting off completely. I was awake, but no longer intensely listening to her voice. Her voice is so sexy, it commands the kind of attention that can give you back spasms. But being turned on is not being hypnotized. The Mistress knows that, of course. And uses it very effectively.

She uses the sexiness to get you listening again and again and again and again— until you’re there just for the feeling. And when you get the feeling automatically— as you will— at the sound of her voice. you don’t have to listen intently. You don’t have to concentrate on the words to get the feeling. You don’t have to concentrate, or even consciously listen. As a matter of fact, you don’t want to concentrate on words now— you want to concentrate on the feeling. And that makes the feeling intensify. Why? Because, buddy, you ain’t there anymore. Give a little wave, Wiley. You’re not at home. You’re out. Welcome to Borg.

As hypnotism, it’s not at all like like I expected (I’ve never been hypnotized before, as you can tell). It’s like erotic judo. She uses your momentum against you. She makes you horny with the sound and inflection of her voice. And once she starts you in that direction, your thinking with the stupidest part of your anatomy. You think you’re just getting an erotic trip. Then the next thing you know, you hear what have become the words you most don’t want to hear, ever, again: “When I count, you will be fully awake at 5…” You feel like you did when you were a kid in bed on a cold school morning. Damn! It’s morning. You want to resist the voice for the only time since it started talking to you. You know you can’t of course, and don’t even try. It’s just a hopeless little wish to curl up again in that drifting state you remember only hazily but where you were so warm and cozy and dreaming so erotically.

The tape is highly addictive and after repeated use symptoms include, but may not be limited to: difficulty sleeping, poor appetite, butterflies in the stomach, occasional euphoria, uncontrolled erections at inappropriate times, a marked increase in horniness, and a general increase in overall energy which may result in greater physical exertion in the vain hope of easing other symptoms. Psychological symptoms are profound but may vary. Watch this space for further details.

And qual voce! What a voice. Meryl Streep’s evil twin, I thought at first. But I’ve never heard Meryl deliver the erotic charge the Mistress can, or suggest the strength of character behind it. The only actor that I can think of that can so easily—and subtly—suggest her level of intimidating power or strength of personality is Ian McEllen in his Fascist Richard III. You might rent that movie before you buy this tape to get some idea of the strength of personality I’m talking about. This ain’t Kansas, Toto.

(I’m not saying Mistress Marquesa strikes me as evil or even as anything but a good, law-abiding, environmentally sensitive domme. I’m saying that, judged solely from the tape, Mistress Marquesa is as fully actualized a person as I’ve known—that rare kind person who learns who they really are and lives the life of that person, not someone else’s, as most of us end up doing for one reason or another. And since she’s a domme, that would make her a very domineering domme. I’ve climbed mountains like Rainier. If she were a mountaineer she would have done the North face of the Eiger and K-2, and would sneer at anyone seen on the “dog” route on Everest–the IMAX route.)

I’ll let you know how it goes from here if I can.

There’s an old joke about this guy who falls off the Observation Deck of the Empire State Building. As he falls by the 40th floor this window washer yells at him: “How ya’ doin?”

My answer from here is the same as his—”So far, so good!”

read not so wiley’s second report on his progress in submitting to the the Goddess of Hypnotic Submission— Mistress Marquesa!