Author’s note: This story is dedicated to the enticing, enigmatic, entrancing, energetic, and ensorcelling GODDESS MISTRESS MARQUESA DE SADE. It should not be read by any minor. It should not be read by anyone who is ethically, legally, morally, religiously, or personally {for any reason(s)} prohibited or proscribed from doing so. It should not be read by anyone who is fearful of, or uncomfortable with, the subject of feminine influence/control/domination/superiority/supremacy/inspiration or the topic of mind control in any of its forms or both.

Many are they who yearn, who need, who seek, and who strive with all their mortal might to reach either or both of these tantalizingly tempting treasures:

#1. To acquire any iota of the alluring attention span of MISTRESS MARQUESA.

#2. To spend any time at all in the provocative, professorial, pixilating presence of HER HYPNOTIZING HIGHNESS.

How do those who know they possess, but may be absolutely unaware they are perfectly possessed by, either or both of these longings try to reach these utopian El Dorados? Some employ email(s) to engage HER intoxicating interest. Others turn to the telephone to try to capture THE MISTRESS’s curiosity. Still other individuals utilize snail mail in their trek to pique MARQUESA’s passion.

One day, the story, whose text is hereafter recorded, came to HER notice in three formats. One copy came courtesy of a CD for computer data. A second reproduction in a separately sent parcel had been calligraphied by hand. Still a third rendition of this tale was delivered via an email attachment.

—– start of story submitted to HER HIGHNESS MARQUESA —–

Possible titles

MARQUESA’S LIPSTICK MAN-IPULATION

Or

HYPNOTIC SURRENDER AND MARQUESA’S LIPSTICK MAN-IPULATION

Or

SURRENDER AND MARQUESA’S LIPSTICK MAN-IPULATION

By baruch bartleby

DEDICATION: This story is dedicated to the One And Only Mesmerizing, Merciless Mistress Marquesa.

This day is destined to be different from any other day. This is a most happy time in Mistress Marquesa’s life. Things are much less hectic. Her submissive subjects of all sorts seem to be so much less demanding of Her preciously tantalizing time and inexhaustibly enchanting energies. This fact prompts Merciless Marquesa to contemplate a truly wonderful possibility. “It could be that there are a few mindless mere males who have been properly prepared by marinating in Her Mistressful ministrations?” She fantasizes about how glorious it will be for Her Hypnotizing, Highborn, High-minded Highness to interact and intermeddle with puppy boys, doggie men, and old hounds who have been expressly evolved to come close to measuring up to Her exacting specifications and the fulfillment of Her much more than deserved yearnings.

Only Gorgeous, Glamorous, and Glorious Goddess de Sade is entirely aware of the risqué reason for this day’s being monumentally momentous! The undeserving world will receive a great work of the art of arousal amplification and a matriarchal mastermind’s masterpiece of a gynecocratic gift before this calendar’s day finally fades fleetingly into the past. For this is the deliriously delightful day upon which Marquesa has decided to RE-record Her premier, preeminent script entitled “Hypnotic Surrender.” She has even elected to condescend to thereafter permit mundane mortals to have the inestimable ecstasy of purchasing Her inviting introductory and tantalizing trance training audio.

{To do so, simply click on the link below.}
Click here to go to the Download page
{[Note to She Whose Name i always have been, and am, everlastingly unworthy to utter and Who is far too glorious a Goddess to ever even imagine considering condescending and debasing Herself for even the briefest of the most minuscule moments to be The Mistress of any of those who are far better than my legions of superiors, i pleadingly beseech You to deign to do one of the following. Include in the story’s text the above sentence enclosed in “{ }” and place a link to Your recordings download page here. Or make at least one and preferably all of the instances of “Hypnotic Surrender.” being mentioned in the story’s text link to Your recordings page.]}

Now and then, even a Demanding Distaff Deity likes to indulge Her self-proclaimed selfishly self-centered, Self-possessed, self-actualized Self in the enjoyment of a little inspiration as She wisely, witchingly, and wickedly works Her Superior Womanly wiles. Displayed splayed and stark naked as a jaybird before Her, one of Her loyal and loving pets tugs lightly at the handcuffs and leg shackles bewitchingly binding his helpless body to Her beautiful bed’s sturdy and stunningly sculptured stead. Marquesa likes {though SHE is the sole soul possessing knowledge of said secret} and likes to lustily and lustfully leer at this toy boy. This was one reason She chose him for inspiration while She softly, serenely, and suggestively reads the original manuscript of “Hypnotic Surrender.”.

Indomitably industrious Marquesa is taking a short break in Her recording session. Like any man who has ever listened to it, this silly slave is so certain She is doing this wonderful thing solely for him, and just for him alone. he lustfully lies there looking at Her alluringly apply fresh lipstick. She has just woken him from his deep, deep trance state of submission by captivatingly counting from one to five. he liked the relaxation of the warm ball [little does he realize MIGHTY MISTRESS MARQUESA cleverly and captivatingly confiscates all of HER human pet’ beauty bamboozled balls] of soft, white light. he was aroused beyond measure (Now his beguilingly bewitched balls feverishly and fervently feel the ferociously furious, flaming firestorm of hypnotically-enhanced hedonistic hunger and Tantalus-ian thirst for Her and only Her and Her alone) by the lightest and tenderest of touches from Her perfectly polished, meticulously manicured nails. {These were none save the naughty and nasty nails oh so neatly adorning Her delectably fascinating and devastatingly feminine fingertips. How well he, and certain other selected subjects, knew some of the other overpowering options and objectives in which Mistress Marquesa’s wonderful and wicked nails and hands were hypnotically and hedonistically involved.} he was especially enraptured by the stupendous tsunamis of sizzling sensations he felt whenever She spoke a certain word as only She could. he counted himself twofold twice blessed to be the partaker of the greatest of grand prizes because She had seductively said the secret word so many wonderful times.

But he can not reflect on what She had sumptuously said just yet. He is becoming even more and more erotically enraptured while worshipfully watching Her utilize Her lipstick. She is doing this ever so slowly. and Her always appealing application is precisely perfect. Before he encountered (and immediately afterwards was entranced and entrapped by) the considerable charms of The Grand and Graceful Goddess Marquesa, he would have felt this amount of lipstick was a little too thick. This ritual of carefully conveying cosmetics is such a feminine act. It is something which all women do as a second nature. Yet Marquesa does this so sensuously and ladylike that She seems to be, nay She is, fantastically feminizing the act to a new and lofty level. No longer is She merely placing lipstick in the place where it was meant and honored to be. Now Marquesa was using the lipstick’s head to ceremoniously and coquettishly caress Her everlastingly lustrous, luscious lips in such a worshipful way. Everything else in the slave’s vision becomes a benighted blur. Now, all he sees, or desires to behold, are Her slightly spread, luxurious lips yielding {just as the bodies and hearts and minds of sooooooo many Superior Sirens and male minions have yielded, are yielding, and shall surely and certainly yield to HER} so softly as the spellbinding stick slowly slides and glides its intoxicating way around The Mistress’s mesmerizing mouth. So moist! So soft! So completely feminine in every way! Her spellbound slave boy knew these statements were, and would everlastingly be, absolutely accurate about every iota pertaining to She Who Must Be Obeyed Always And In All Things!

his cock is becoming considerably harder and more active now. he tries the cuffs once again, a little harder this time. Still they hold him firmly. He hears the sounds of the requisite restraining device whenever he moves his hogtied hands or his fettered feet. he feels his cock ceaselessly crying out for all-encompassing attention and physical pleasure. Just one caress! he labors to lift his pelvis slightly as if to answer the unspoken and unmistakable plea. “i’m trying,” is all he can say in his Mistress Marquesa mesmerically and manually manacled mindlessness.

Marquesa seems to sense or actually sees his torrid turmoil. Perhaps Her next actions are designed to prolong his frustration and pump up his anticipation. She turns to face Her hobbled hunk, moves the lipstick directly into his line of vision, and calmly, calculatingly, and slowly slides the cover back in place on top of Her lipstick. Manipulating the lipstick’s top prompted Her to remember and in a wily whisper rehearse to his ensorcelled ears one of Her rigid rules. “MISTRESS MARQUESA MUST ALWAYS BE ON TOP!” Back and forth, back and forth Mistress witchingly waves the tube of lipstick like a magic wand. For indeed Merciless, Magnanimous, methodically magical Marquesa has indubitably transformed it into a wand which wields womanly witcheries. Her fascinating face, Her feminine figure, and Her gorgeous gams are the living embodiment of even much, much more than all the enchantments ever exercised by all of the Earth’s enchantresses.

She luxuriously looks down upon Her imprisoned and mostly immobilized slave. Seeing him in such a perfectly powerless state of strict subordination and aphrodisiacal agitation makes Her lingeringly and lustily lick Her lovely lips. A slight hint of pity attractively adorns the august allure of Her fetchingly feminine face. he has no idea what is coming up for him in the salaciously sagacious script of “Hypnotic Surrender.”. Nor does he know how much will be cumming out of him due to this insinuating incarnation of the first full-length, full-featured, full-bodied recording of Her voice he ever possessed. In truth be told, the earlier edition of this rapturous recording of The Mighty Mistress’s velvety, voluptuous voice profoundly possessed his person and presented his pole’s pumped up prowess for Her painstakingly passionate pleasures of the flesh. A smile forms on Her newly moistened lips. A sinister smile of A Supreme Sovereign’s sadistic satisfaction! Dozens of deliciously devilish thoughts begin to again run rampant through Her massive mind. Yet, Her fascinatingly feminine face is also filled to overflowing with compassion and warmth. Only the genuinely gifted could correctly and concisely combine and convey such opposing qualities in a single carefree, freewheeling expression of everlasting evanescence. But Mistress Marquesa far, far exceeds and excels those all too rare individuals who are greatly gifted. She is divine!

The poor boy toy assuredly, trustingly, and fervently feels such “TRUST AND ASSURANCE” “TRUST AND ASSURANCE” as he gratefully gazes upon the conspicuously charismatic countenance of Her Highness Marquesa. he has no idea of the magnitude of the magical devotion and magnetizing adoration She shall soon cunningly cascade into his coquettishly constrained consciousness. Marquesa temporarily turns Her enticingly entrancing emerald eyes away from him and glances down at Her magically magnetic manuscript to find the place where She had suspended Her wonderfully wrought work and play of rhapsodically rerecording “Hypnotic Surrender.”. As She looks once more at Her pliable plaything, Her expression suddenly changes. Now She magnificently manifests Her exclusively exalted estate of stunning stateliness and station as the complete carnal and entire Elysian essence of feminine superiority. Like each and every one of Her malleable minions, this sex-charged sex-slave is so worshipful and weak and helpless. For She alone is so perennially powerful and deftly dominating.

The subbie respectfully returns Her gaze. his eyelids raised with reverence and his eyeballs glowing with gratitude. he wonders what She is about to do with him or to him or hopefully both? he has no notion of how soon he again shall be smoothly slipped into the tempting trance of the caressing cruelty of Her convivial control. The voice! The SWEET FEELING OF Hypnotic SURRENDER! Please YES!

Mistress Marquesa presses a button on Her state-of-the-art of seduction recording device. She picks up Her microphone, provocatively plays with it, and finally femininely raises it to just below Her perfect, freshly, and thickly moistened lips. She looks at Her pliable puppet’s straining cock for an instant. The cock which each of them knows She influences, controls, dominates, and inspires. Then Her enterprising emerald eyes delve deeply and mesmerizingly into his obsequious orbs.

“It’s so easy to obey Me… It’s so easy… to obey Me…….”
While SHE continues HER stellar speaking, to summon forth and insinuatingly inscribe electronically the siren spell, of the “HYPNOTIC SURRENDER” script, THE ONE AND ONLY MISTRESS MARQUESA smiles enigmatically. What enchantingly illicit ideas or memories are eliciting this expression of empathetic imperiousness? Perhaps one of them is the following fact. The inescapable cuffs and unbreakable chains against which the submissive futilely fights exist only in the reality Marquesa has irresistibly implanted in his highly horny heart, masterfully mesmerised mind, superbly sublimated spirit, and sensually subjugated soul.

—– end of submissive’s submitted story —–

“A Testimony to Her Highness’ Powers Over Men, Women and Love” and “The San Diego Freeway South to Primrose Way” are two of the Real-Life Adventures found on the goddessmarquesa.com wonderfully wicked, witchingly wanton website. The authors of the aforementioned autobiographical accounts, slave mike and Not-So-Wily Coyote respectively, set down certain details in their stories which convey the reader to the following conclusion. “MISTRESS MARQUESA possesses profound, perceptual proclivities and preternaturally persuasive and pervasive powers in the psychic sphere of influence, control, domination, and inspiration.” As SHE read baruch bartleby’s sensuous story, somehow for some reason something set off and flicked on HER finely tuned feminine intuition.

HER ensorcelling eyes reread each story posted on HER site. THE MISTRESS comprehensively compared each of the tales residing in HER risque “Reading Room” to that svelte story which baruch had thrice sent HER. After HER excruciating, extensive, and exhaustive investigation, SHE came to a clear conclusion.

Now one question perplexingly vexed HER monumentally mammoth mentalities. What would be the best way to respond to what baruch bartleby had done?

bartleby did a double take due to being taken aback at the sender’s name of the as yet unopened email. For some while, all he could barely bring himself to do was stare in discombooberated disbelief at that notably notorious, notoriously noteworthy, nastily nymphomaniacal name. “MARQUESA.”

What could be dwelling inside or lurking within HER message’s body? (Just having the word “body” flash through his thoughts was enough to compel him to contemplate all he had perceived and all he hoped he would see of MISTRESS MARQUESA’s beautiful body. HER wonderfully wrought winning website’s pages, along with first the videotapes and subsequently the DVD’s, only unveiled fascinatingly frustrating, frustratingly fascinating, fleeting glimpses of a few of HER awesome assortment of astoundingly attractive attributes.) What would come to pass, if there was subsequent communication betwixt them? What would be the outcome, if {did he even dare to daydream of the delightful destiny or perchance devastating, yet deliriously delicious, doom} if he and THIS WICKED, WITCHING WOMAN OF WOMEN had any personal contact?

At long last, Baruch could withhold out and withstand it no longer. With trembling fingertips and more trembling heart and even more trembling mind and still even more trembling cock and balls, he clicked on HER email to open and read its fantastically fateful contents.

This is what SHE said unto him:

—– start of MESMERIZING MISTRESS MARQUESA’s email —–

your story is in a class all by itself. No one has ever submitted to Me anything coming sooooooo close to what you have done.

I so very passionately yearn to in-person and VERY PERSONALLY give you all you have coming.
Come to Me. Come! To Me. CUM!!! TO ME. NOW!!!   :)))

—– end of email —–

The ecstatic elation bartleby felt radiated from the bottom of his heart, engulfed the very core of his being, and surged throughout his entire bulky body. {Sometimes, when he reverently reread HER email, his lungs felt like he was in the inexorable grasp of a pair of Italian womanly arms which could effortlessly hold more than a hundred men and crush them.} Never had his manhood been in such a mania. It was as if he perfectly perceived the fervently feverish feelings of countless regiments of men quivering with desire. he frequently fantasized about what it would be like to gaze into HER irresistibly ensorcelling emerald eyes as SHE lowered HER lashes and looked like this at someone who happened to be him? In his imagination, he accurately assumed that indeed it would be a diabolically devilish thrill which would consume him like wildfire in a forest of bleached bone dry kindling.

Several times did baruch start from scratch and compose a response to HER emailed invitation. No one of these replies would be categorized as similar to any of the others. Ultimately, there came into bartleby’s bewilderingly befuddled consciousness this concept. “It is impossible to make a message which will measure up to HER immeasurably predominating preeminence.” It surely seemed no other choice was left to him. In the end he was resigned to the doom he had only one open option. he wrote down an answer, entrusted it to HER electronic mailbox, and pleaded with The Great Goddess Above that She Whom he could not see would grant him grace from THE GREAT GODDESS MARQUESA WHOM he had certainly seen and WHOM he now loved? It was even harder than his penis for him to know which made him more anxious. First, trying to correctly craft and communicate a concise and courteous answer to HER letter. Or subsequently awaiting with bated breath for this breathtaking blonde’s reply. MISTRESS MARQUESA’s responsive message came sooner than he had expected yet too soon for him to ameliorate any of his anticipatory agitation. Thereafter in their technological tête-à-tête a time and date for their encounter was established.

—– End of Part #1 —–