When I first began these notes, I referred to them in my day planner as “HJ diary”. The HJ stood for Henry Jekyl. My thought was that Mistress Marquesa’s Hypnotic Surrender tape was the equivalent of the mixture Dr. Jekyl took. I was looking for a change in me, and it could be the catalyst that might bring that other personality out. There was the real–although improbable, I thought at the time–possibility that my personality might change permanently or uncontrollably as a result.
Our moods fluctuate from day to day. To filter out that “noise” from a deeper, more lasting change, was the problem. Back when my survival instincts were at natural coyote levels, I felt the short run might be all the time I would have to “high tail it”, as we coyotes say, to safe ground. So I decided it would be prudent to keep a diary of my feelings and compare them from day to day.
Did a lot of good, huh?
I always thought homo sapiens was a poor description of that species. Homo kill-at-a-distance is a much more accurate distinguishing characterization. Mistress Marquesa is Mistress Control-at-a-distance. She can control my mood, my emotions and my thoughts without apparent effort with a few words on the phone or this screen. What the outcome of that power will be promises to be even more “interesting” than the effect of listening to Hypnotic Surrender, but it will more likely be a story about dominance and submission than hypnotism.
I haven’t listened to a tape in the almost 3 weeks since I met Mistress. Since her first coup de theatre, when she had me open my eyes for the first time in her presence, I have eagerly done, felt or thought what she wanted me to. Since there was no hypnotism or hypnotic suggestion involved, it seemed irrelevant as a factor in my behavior. I attributed my disinterest in getting off the hair-raising, stomach-churning roller coaster ride of her manipulation to my hopeless attraction to her, combined with the power of her personality and fiendishly brilliant instincts, not to mention her considerable skill and experience as a domme.
Something happened last week, however, to cause me to reconsider the significance of hypnotism as a causative factor in my behavior. She announced on her site that her good little slaves should check their mailboxes for a reward. I sat, chin on paws, watching my mailbox for about 72 hours, panic-stricken and as miserable as I could ever remember being as each new piece of mail turned out to be something other than the desperately needed proof that I pleased Her. Finally, I got a message from Her. I was sure all the good little slaves had gotten their reward by then, and obviously I wasn’t among them.
The following dialogue ensued.
MM: << Where are you MYYYY pet??? >>
C: Well, I take it you didn’t like the wine. At least that’s the way I’ll write it if I ever get the urge to finish Coyote’s story.
I was very happy doing what I could for you, for nothing–without expectations. I had to guess at what would please or work for you, and I obviously made a misstep somewhere. But it was satisfying because I could make it the best I had to offer, and hence what you deserved. Your message on your site of the 9th and the lump of coal you left in my mailbox told me you wanted something else. And told me in a way that seemed designed to maximize the hurt, which I can assure you it did. I was so unprepared for the cut, it would have been more merciful if you’d tried to break that red cane on my back. At least I would have heard it coming.
Whoever has the best memories at the end wins, in my view, so I’ll get off here. I have wonderful ones of You….You are indeed a goddess reincarnated. i find it very hard to believe i have actually met someone Homer knew–Circe, Kirke, Mistress Marquesa– fairest of the goddesses.
Sic transit Coyote
MM: What ever are you referring to?
“MY message of the 9th on MY site?”
“Lump of coal in your mail box?”
Mmmmm – ya got ME there slave-boy.
?????????????????????????
Hurt feelings are for little sissy girls – be a wild coyote and explain your “must of been a full moon” behavior.
(ed.) I wasn’t the only slave to feel the sting of an empty mailbox, however. The following was in my mailbox with the foregoing, with a letter from another sub similar in tone to mine. Mistress realized I wasn’t the only one to “misinterpret” her note and expect immediate gratification or banishment back to the wilds of northern Saskatchewan, to live in the snow at 40 below. Note her graceful apology for causing the misunderstanding.
MM: Sooo, this is it…… MY slaves are sensitive creatures and ANXIOUS. Jeez- read this subs e-mail. Its been a few days since MY message- and you horny wanna-be-rewarded sluts have NO PATIENCE…..
Expect something in the mail within a reasonable time-frame OR should I jump thru hoops for MY pets???
Ha!
Marquesa I’ve learned something here. Probably, if I had had children I would of known better!
(ed.) You cannot imagine the relief I felt at these two messages. Winning the lottery would be a trifle in comparison. This was reprieve in front of the firing squad with the blindfold already on. I called immediately to confirm what I suspected, and thank god she was there. Mistress, I’m sure, heard the relief in my voice and took pity on me. Otherwise, she would never have let me get away with:
C: “You thick-headed Italian!” (laughing with relief) ” You mean you left that message out there and haven’t sent a thing to anybody!?”
(ed.) It turned out she meant snail mail, not e-mail, and the presents themselves had been delayed. Now, I knew from experience that her concept of time is non-linear. Chaotic is probably closer to the truth. If she were in charge of the Air Route Traffic Control system, for example, I would take the bus to Pittsburgh rather than fly. And pray I wasn’t killed by falling debris. I suspected that might be a factor during those agonizing three days when I thought I might be on my way back to the Arctic Circle, but I was frozen in unthinking panic. I sent the following to her later that same day.
(in reply to MM’s) << Hurt feelings are for little sissy girls – be a wild coyote and explain your “must of been a full moon” behavior. >>
C: It didn’t occur to me until mid-afternoon. After I’d finally settled down enough to understand what I was reading the first time I read it.
(whapping forehead) “IT’S THE TAPE, STUPID! (me, not You, adored one).”
I’ve been shot at by missiles and 100 mm guns, lay stupidly on my bunk instead of getting under it during a 6.0 earthquake that left Guam without power for 5 days, spent a night bivouacked (a French mountaineering term meaning “mistake”) on a mountain in light clothes and the rain turned to snow around 11, and gone through a divorce. I am not a sissy. (Well, all right, at least not until recently–but then only on command.)
I did, however, buy into Hypnotic Surrender. It made me uncomfortable up to a point, which I described in #2. I had been saying to myself: I want to go in this direction, but “not all the way.” That wasn’t working. The message of the tape was binary and digital–like pregnancy. It allowed for only 2 conditions–submission or run for your life. I chose the former, and listened to the tape from then on in that frame of mind.
What am I conditioned to do if I displease my Mistress? Can I conceive of disobeying Her?
(The tape has strong and specific injunctions against both behaviors–ed.)
I’ve never had a panic attack, at least not until I read the “all you slut slaves check your mailboxes–the good ones will find presents” and found my mailbox empty. Had I disobeyed my Mistress? Certainly I had displeased Her. The strength of my reaction froze me. It didn’t even occur to me until the panic had subsided that I wasn’t even thinking clearly.
Interesting stuff, those tapes. Much more powerful than I thought.
By itself, Hypnotic Surrender may not be anything more than a great turn-on if that’s your fantasy. But if it leads you to a relationship with Mistress Marquesa, as I strongly suspect it’s designed to, it brings you to her doorstep already conditioned to respond exactly as she wants. And, at least in my case, even more completely so than either she or I expected.
In climbing, you learn quickly that climbing down is harder than climbing up. Going up, you’re looking where to put your hands, which are right in front of your face. Going down, you have to find places for your feet, which are far away and seeking footholds even farther away and sometimes hidden beneath little bulges in the rock. That means you can make a move going up that you might not be able to reverse–to be able to do going down.
When you are climbing something for the first time, when you don’t know the difficulties that lie ahead, it is advisable to keep that firmly in mind. For once you make a move you cannot reverse, you have closed and locked a door behind you and thrown away the key. You cannot go back the way you have come. You can only hope that the difficulties that lie ahead are within your ability. “For you have no choice,” to quote a tape I know too well, but to go on.
It has occurred to Coyote that he has made, without knowing it at the time, a move he cannot reverse.
Don’t try this at home, kids.