POSTSCRIPT

                 Five minutes after receiving Her command, and exactly as Marquesa had ordered, Her inadvertent dinner host feels waking consciousness gradually returning.  Foggily, he emerges from his dream, his eyes flutter open, his vision and equilibrium begin to restore themselves, and, sluggishly, he begins to gather his wits.  At present, everything he sees seems to be taking place in slow motion.  Looking reflexively to his left where Marquesa had just been sitting, he dully notes that the place next to him had been set for dinner and, apparently, used, because Her dessert dish hasn’t yet been picked up.  Next, his glance falls on his own dessert dish, which remains untouched.  Upon seeing it, he looks around to catch a glance at whomever must have been seated next to him.  In the distance, he catches the briefest glimpse of the interesting lady who had invited him earlier to join Her in the corner as She passes out of view, and the moment he lays his eyes on Her, his mind quickens, and, simultaneously, a sudden inner voice commands him to pay the meal bill.

The voice is insistent and powerful:  “PAY THE BILL!  PAY IT!!..NOOWW!”  Soooo Insistent and Soooo Powerful is this voice that it totally preempts any thoughts of his dining companion, driving them suddenly and forcefully — and completely — from his conscious mind.

Obediently, he summons the waiter and asks for the check.  Scooping up some of the dishes, the waiter heads off, returning a moment later with the check.  Nodding, Marquesa’s host takes it, casually glances down at the total and, upon seeing it, he gasps inwardly.  Still, that same Insistent Voice in his head ordering him to pay the tab is now insisting he throw in a hefty tip as well.  Docilely, stoically, like the Good Little Boy into which he has been unknowingly transformed, he pays the check, adding a robust tip to the bill, and gets set to leave.  As he starts to move from his seat, his thoughts suddenly return to that mysterious woman whom he saw disappearing from view like a ghost.  Thinking of Her, he looks down, and, despite the gloom, he notices his pants, still unzipped with his naked cock standing up proudly and holding the biggest erection he can ever remember.  The sight of it prompts him to hastily seat himself again — Good thing I’m in a very dark room! — and, using the overhang of the tablecloth to cover his actions and, unconsciously, following the example of his guest a few minutes earlier, he discretely struggles to make his erection go away.  After a few minutes of trying to entice his out-of-control cock into subsiding — which it does not; petulantly, it seems to have taken on a mind of its own, for with each touch, it shows not the slightest sign of abating but only becomes increasingly rigid — he sighs, knowing he can’t spend all night waiting here, so, he discretely zips up his pants and rises.  His dessert remains untouched.

As he leaves the table, his erection creates a bulge around his fly so prominent that it makes the one in the waiter’s apron earlier seem like a pup tent compared to the big top in a circus.  Good thing it’s so dark in here, he thinks.  Ruefully, he realizes he thought the same thing a few short minutes ago.  Still, even though his face is almost red enough with embarrassment to show up even in this darkness, a silly smile appears on his face.  Trying his best to appear nonchalant, he thrusts his hands into his pockets and, smiling all the while, he starts to leave the restaurant, doing his best to seem as unobtrusive as possible.  Notwithstanding the increasing number of patrons who now crowd the bar, many more than when he arrived, he hopes to keep his front from brushing up against anyone.  Despite a couple of close calls, he makes it to the door successfully.  Thankfully!   As he passes out the door, all memories of dinner — and of his dinner companion — disappear from his conscious mind and completely dissolve from his awareness.  Attempts to retrieve them are sporadic and fruitless.

But what of Marquesa?  After She left the restaurant, She climbed into Her car and headed home.  Driving mostly on auto-pilot as She thinks about her evening, She still feels SEXX!y as hell.  Tonight’s successful capture elates Her to no small extent, and even apart from the dinner’s extraordinary ‘climax’, She still judges Her evening an unqualified success.  Not only did Her prey turn out to be an exceptionally responsive subject, but his, ah, equipment also proved great fun to play with.  No, it was more than that; it was awesome.  She had so much fun that She resolves to test drive it — or maybe test fly it? — at their next encounter.  She smiles with pleasure as She chuckles inwardly, Yeeesss!!!  I think he’ll return next week.

As She pulls into Her neighborhood, Her disciplined mind now turns itself to Her telepathic performance.   At first glance, She recognizes that this evening’s ‘experiment’ has succeeded far, far beyond anything She’d achieved in any of Her earlier efforts, either under the active mentorship of Her guru or in Her own ‘laboratory’.  Later, when She is fully centered and Her mind, attuned to the here-and-now, She will hypnotically regress Herself back to Her entry into the restaurant and, from there, She will proceed through every event that took place.  With microscopically focused attention and lapidary care, She will systematically dissect every instant from the time She laid eyes on Her prey until She walked out the restaurant door, reliving events and determining, as best She can, how and why whatever went right, went right.  Sighing deeply as She enters Her house, She realizes that, as well as things have transpired this evening, She still has a long way to go and much work to do before She can telepathically control Her subjects with the effortless, insolent ease with which She now hypnotizes them verbally.

After closing Her front door behind Her, Marquesa glances down and sees that She’s still wearing Her white latex gloves.   So thoroughly immersed has She been in Her reflections (a by-product of hours and hours of hypnotically focused activity), She realizes She hasn’t yet thought to remove them.  Perhaps it is the latex, which always provides Her a real turn-on, but the sight of those white rubber gloves, still carrying on their outer surface a faint mixture of olive oil and bodily juices, spontaneously returns Her to the darkened corner table in the restaurant and sparks again in Her mind the full impact of what She accomplished this evening.  Just think!   An evening both epic and epicurean!   Gastronomically, I enjoyed one of the best meals I’ve had — perhaps the best ever! — and the ONLY one enhanced with SEXX! — which unquestionably makes it the best!  Yeeesss!!!  And, without speaking a word — without uttering one single word — I hypnotically seduced, I brought into MYYY Power a veerry SEXXX!y subject, a highly promising addition to My stable of captivated submissives.  Once more Marquesa recognizes Her extraordinary Power — the RAW MENTAL AND SEXXX!ual POWER that She magisterially commands and so effortlessly, so instinctively wields, a capability reflected in Her incredible, singular, and almost bizarre ability to take a man, any man, and make him Hers — and this recognition produces yet another massive surge of SEXXX!ual energy that courses up, down and throughout Her entire body.

           Yeeessss!!!   Power!  It’s ALLL about Power — SEXXX!ual Power.  MYYY Power!!  Inescapably and unavoidably turned on by Power — Her Power — more accurately, Her SEXXX!ual Power — She can stand it no more:  SEXXX!ual compulsion comes over Her, an elemental force, powerful, and, for Her, uncontrollable and unstoppable.  For Marquesa, Power is Her special, personal amphetamine, and since She has for most of the prior evening been generating and feeding off Her upper to amplify Her insatiable arousal, She has reached the point at which She simply has to please Herself, to service herself.  In Her haste to begin, She literally tears off Her clothes and throws them aside, dashes into Her special playroom, and pulls out Her favorite rubber dildo.  Throwing Herself down on a mattress, She brings into Her trained mind the image of Her newly acquired subject, imagining him here, now, offering himself to Her as a living SEXXX!ual Plaything — *Her* SEXXX!ual Plaything, *Her* personal living dildo.  Frantically, She begins to pleasure Herself, giving Her highly trained vaginal muscles the deep, rigorous workout they crave.  By contracting and pumping Her vaginal and gluteal muscles on the dildo, She brings SEXXX!ual stimulation to a spot so deep inside Her as to have been unreachable back at the restaurant.  Deep within Her body, the muscles and sensory receptors love feeling the isometric contractions on Her toy — the tighter the better — Her vaginal muscles squeezing it so snugly that, if She were having SEXX! with a male partner, She could prevent him from ejaculating — until She allows it.  Yes!  It’s All about Power, HER Power!  Coupled with the resistance of the shaft as it moves inside Her, this feeling is indescribable.  She loves it as much as Her subject did.  She climaxes again and again and again.

But in Her frenzied excitement, She has unknowingly over-stimulated Herself by producing an endorphin rush so massive that it creates within Her a state of consciousness, kind of like a trance, so overwhelming that all other stimuli become muted, a state in which mind and body become completely fixated on the most extreme pleasureful stimulation.  Only once before has She entered this state, in the aftermath of taking a favored subject soooo veerry deeep in trance that he became almost comatose.  Once he was there, Marquesa had Her way with him to an extended degree, exercising extraordinary mental and SEXXX!ual mastery over him, to a degree far greater than She had previously — or since –achieved with any other subject.  So extreme, so absolute was Her mastery over this subject that he could better have been termed Her object.  Yet this evening, it was not the SEXX!, which, make no mistake, She truly enjoyed, but the realization — no, the full appreciation — of Her SEXXX!ual Power that provided the triggering aphrodisiac which propelled Her into this frenzied state.  Until this evening, Her prior frenzy marked Her sole venture into this state.  Anyway, despite the intensity and depth of Her single-mindedly feverish SEXXX! storm, Her efforts eventually subside, and, gradually, She begins to calm down and just relaxes.  And as She basks in the afterglow, She realizes that Her SEXXX!ual appetite is sated — for this evening, anyway — and also sated, She realizes, is Her appetite for a good meal.  And this evening’s dinner has been truly memorable.  Yes, this has been a wonderful day.

 Yeeesss!!  It really IS about Power.  Gathering Power.  Using Power.  About Gathering Men. Capturing Men.  Using Men.  How I love it!!! I Love to Capture Men, to make them Mine!  I love to place them deep in MYYY Power — the deeper the better — and then Use Them and Abuse them, Bend Them to MYYY WILL.  I love to Mold Them, to Shape Them, to Render Them into *Objects* — There’s that word again! — into *Objects* that best Serve and Service MEEE.  *Yeeesss!!!  But, at its most sublime, I believe, it’s about using MYYY Power on MYSELF.  Yeeesss!!!  And in the aftermath — only in the aftermath — of MYYY frenzy this evening could I become privy to these never before realized insights.  Could it be that I never realized these insights before because, for them to come to MEEE, it is necessary first to empty MYYY mind of SEXXX!ual thoughts so as to make room for more introspection, more reflection?  Yes, I believe so, because tonight I received as strong a SEXXX!ual charge as I’ve ever experienced — something had to have boosted Me into hypersexual overdrive, pushed Me to such a heightened level of arousal.  Could that booster be Power — MYYYPower — itself??  I’ve always known how much I love to wield it, how I love to use it, but until this moment I never realized how acutely MYYY Power affects Me — and how forcefully, how keenly, I respond to MYYY OWWN Power — and this opens up a new vista, an exciting vista, that I want to explore.  But not now — I’m too tired to continue on and I need to..GO TO..SLEEP!!

Here, it may be worth wondering whether Her introspection — an activity that seldom occupies Her powerful mind, probably because She so persistently and relentlessly focuses it on the accumulation of SEXXX!ual Power — occurred just now because She is mentally and physically drained, and only in this state of complete exhaustion can such insights creep into Her consciousness.  As Marquesa relaxes in bed over these ideas, a final thought creeps once more into Her consciousness before She drifts off into the night, Thank God I’m not an ordinary housewife!  Here we will leave Her to a rest She has truly earned.

The white latex gloves remain on Her hands.