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Author’s note:  This story is humbly, respectfully, reverently, appreciatively, and fearfully dedicated to the lovely, loving, and lodestonelike LADY KRYSTAL MESMER.  This story should not be read by any person(s) legally, ethically, religiously, or morally prohibited or proscribed from doing so.  It should not be read by any entity, who is to any degree, uncomfortable with or fearful of the concept of mind control or the subject of female influence/supremacy/domination or both.  “Ow, ow, ow, ow!”  He sucked in his breath, winced, and rolled his eyes at HER.  “I do have functioning pain receptors there.”  “Yes, I know.  How fortunate pour MOI!”  KRYSTAL’s captivating countenance bore a slightly gleeful expression.  “LADY MESMER, there are times when I fear YOU greatly.”  “So then, the only thing you have to fear is ME?”  “So it seems.  I have only one more thing to say to YOU.  YOU are,” he was futilely attempting to scowl at HER now, “absolutely adorable!  YOU may not desire to be thought of as such.  Nevertheless, this perception of YOU is accurate.  So there!”  He considered sticking out his tongue.  For one of the few times in his life, good sense prevailed.  “What do you mean there are only three,” SHE asked?  SHE arched HER eyebrows in disbelief.  “As we have discussed, hypnoerotica is only one form of adult, mutually consensual, erotic play.  BDSM is another very pleasurable game among certain people.  One person chooses to voluntarily relinquish some degree of control.  The other individual elects to be the one in charge.  In my cursory study of the subject I have found only three elemental motivations for someone’s becoming, what is sometimes called, a dominant.  They are: pleasure, I enjoy being in charge of others; profit, I can make a good living by having some amount of control of others; and payback, I will use the power I have attained over others to redress the wrong(s) committed by them, or some individual(s) within their group, or their group in its entirety against me or some member(s) of my group or both.  For my taste an erotic or a romantic dominant motivated by pleasure is preferable to one primarily interested in profit who is preferred above someone whose motivation is some kind of payback.  Speaking of my preferences, in my exploration of hypnosis and erotica I was seeking a Superior Woman to guide me who was at least as fascinating outside of these realms as She was within these spheres.  Fortunately, for me, I have been captivated and then captured by YOU.”  “I do not remember you telling ME why you are a subbie.”  “That is because I am not one.  Not according to the generally accepted definition.  There are some within the rank and file of The Sisterhood to whom I will open myself.  So far, only a few women fall in this category.  I will not, under any circumstances, of my own unfettered volition give any access to my inner self to all women, all sexually dominant females, or all erotic hypnoteuses.”  “Why do you have a problem with the lovers game or idea of female supremacy?”  “Female supremacy is only one of the many examples of group supremacy.  It is the root and trunk, not some branch(s) springing therefrom, which I dislike.  It is the underlying belief system, not some expression(s) thereof, with which I firmly disagree and which I fervently and thoroughly detest, despise, disregard, and abhor.”  “Why do you so loathe group supremacy?”  “Long ago, this concept was spoiled for me.  In truth, spoiled is all this idea can be.  I have ferreted out one of the dirty, little secrets about this idea.  Namely, it is nothing but an illusion and a lie.”  “Why do you believe this?”  “There are sighted persons who believe they are superior to all sightless persons.  There are, hopefully, fewer of such individuals than I believe exist.  There are probably more of such persons than YOU may think are extant.  I was an academically advanced student when I attended public school with a vast majority of sighted persons.  I had to write my homework twice.  The first time was in Braille.  The second time I had to type it out.  For as sightless people know, the number of sighted people who can read Braille is exceptionally small.  There were no personal computers in those days.  I believe few tasks connected to written communication are more time-consuming and irritating than having to use a writing system which you can not read.  None of the sighted students had to do this.  My grades were almost always better than most, and at least as good as the remainder, of the sighted pupils.  How can one who is allegedly inferior do more work than those who are assumed to be superior and get better results than most of those who are supposedly superior?  Conclusion, the assumption that all sighted persons are superior to all sightless individuals is not a fact.  It is merely only an unfounded, personal assumption.  I have found all sighted people are not superior to me.  Why then should I subscribe to the, in my judgment inaccurate, notion that all members of some group(s) to which I do not belong are automatically superior to me?”  SHE digested the facts he declared, the reasoning he used, the conclusions he espoused, and the questions he posed.  “You know what I believe in such matters.  You know what I think, and how I feel, about the encumbrances wrought upon all human beings by traditional, patriarchal sex roles.  Why are you sitting across the table from ME?  Some of MY male, erotic hypnosis clients want ME to assume the role of an avowed and avid FEMALE SUPREMACIST.”  “YOU have given the correct answer to YOUR own query.  I will willingly and eagerly surrender myself to YOU.  Note, the operative word in that statement is, “YOU.”  I did not say I will give up any personal control, at any time, to all women, supposedly dominant females, or hypnoerotic Sisterhood members.  I say again, I will allow access to my inner self to YOU!  I have some things which belong to YOU.”  He placed one thumb on his forehead, the other over his heart, and extended the rest of his fingers in HER direction.  “Or to be physiologically accurate.”  He simultaneously placed one thumb on each side of his head and pointed the remainder of his hands’ digits to LADY KRYSTAL MESMER.  “I hope the symbolism is understood?”  “it is,” said SHE.  “Nevertheless, it is theoretically possible that I might someday become a bona fide, actual, lifestyle FEMALE SUPREMACIST.  In that case, I will believe all men should be subordinate to Superior Women.  Why are you, from time to time, willing to temporarily act in a more submissive role when you are interacting with me?  I do not recall you ever telling ME why you chose ME as your favorite HYPNOTEUSE?”  “It is not any belief system YOU may one day espouse to which I yield.  It is YOUR proven, personal superiority and the excellence of YOUR character, personality, and ability that has drawn me to YOU and subsequently deliciously, delightfully, and deeply influenced me.  I have studied YOU for some time.  The information YOU have intentionally and unwittingly (if the latter was ever the case) provided, my analysis thereof, and the conclusions spawned by both of these show forth YOUR actual greatness to me and to many other perceptive human beings.  i, therefore, willingly and eagerly surrender myself to YOUR exceeding excellence and to YOU.”  He paused to let his words sink in.  “Some members of The Sisterhood seem to be far too enslaved to the notion of actual male inferiority.  For these women what is play acting to other persons is believed to be literally true.  Ironically, in some cases, this state of affairs reduces or eliminates their power.”  “Elaborate.”  “Consider the following scenario.  One person says to another, “I am the boss and you are nothing.”  The second individual responds, “So, then, you are boss over nothing.”  Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce co-starred in a series of movies about Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson.  My complaint about these films is that they make Watson into a bumbling incompetent.  These cinemas are meant to showcase the brilliance of Great Britain’s first consulting detective.  Why was it necessary to turn his closest confidante into a witless fool?  Consider the next hypothetical circumstance.  Two people, called Q and Z, are declared to be geniuses.  All of the persons who have drawn this conclusion about Q are stupid.  All of the people who assert that Z is a genius are brilliant in their own right.  Whose mental prowess impresses YOU more, and why?”  “Z’s.  Z’s mind is considered greater than the advanced minds of Z’s associates.  Z’s mind, then, is exceptionally magnificent.  Q’s mind has not been stacked up against any great minds.  One must be compared to the entire spectrum to ascertain one’s proper place within it.”  “I think as does MY LADY KRYSTAL MESMER.  Then, the question to be judged is this:  If some person(s) can only be powerful, or as is said in BDSM circles, “Dominant,” when someone else is pathetic, what does this indicate about the supposedly strong individual?”  SHE chose to mull over his last question.  “Now, what about the causes of volitional, sexual submissiveness?”  “So far as those who play the game in the submissive role are concerned, I have deciphered two primary roots for this desire.”  He would say no more.  “You should never withhold from ME.”  “Withhold what,” he interjected?  “Are you trying to toy with ME?”  “I do not wish, and it is not wise for me, to answer that question on the grounds that my response might incriminate me and lead to other things.  I know better than to refuse YOU anything, in any way, at any time, or in any place.”  “As well you should.  So, MY powerless plaything (SHE knew both of them loved it when SHE gave him harmless, little pet names), you are indeed going to tell ME what I wish to know.  Are you not?”  SHE passed one of HER perfumed hands near his face.  His nostrils happily drowned themselves in HER wonderful feminine scent.  SHE knew well the affect such gestures wrought upon him.  SHE so savored wielding so expertly such influential, feminine power over someone like him.  It was difficult to discern which (if either) of these two enjoyed it more.  “LADY MESMER, YOU and I know how hard it is for me to refuse YOU virtually anything.  The two elementary roots of voluntary, sexual submissiveness are: pleasure, I enjoy giving up some measure of control; and penance, I must atone for (insert person’s reason(s) here.)”  “And what did you say about the schools?”  “The educational system has not served YOU well.”  He rolled the folded white cane on the table.  “Why do you say that,” SHE inquired?  “Sighted people are taught to use your primary sense.  Rarely, if ever, are any of you fully instructed in the development of any of your other senses.”  He paused for several seconds.  “I think I know YOUR response to that statement.”  “What do you assume it is?”  “Most seeing persons are auditorially taught how to speak.  This proves our sense of hearing is properly developed.”  “Sometimes, I wish you wouldn’t do that.”  “Do what, KRYSTAL,” he inquired?  “Correctly anticipate MY thoughts.”  He silently tapped his fingers on the tabletop.  “Just one of the perks of being part of,” he fell silent for emphasis, “The Real! Dark! Side!  Those who physically see have access to the visible realm.  Perhaps Providence, if YOU’ll pardon the pun, has granted some or all of us who do not see increased perception of some of the invisible things in our reality.”  He thought for several moments about the course of their relationship.  “Besides, I am the one who should be talking about what has been done to whom.  I may, at times, be able to perceive YOUR long held thoughts or long-standing mental processes.  YOU have, and have had for some time, the ability to mesmerically manipulate at will and turn three parts of me into mush.  And YOU know, very well, which ones I mean.  The ability to hypnotically control trumps the capacity to occasionally understand.  Is it not so?  YOU can, assuming YOU have not already done so, acquire the requisite tools to analyze my mind, as I have, on some occasions, done with YOUR own.  I would not even know where to go to obtain the skills meet to bend YOU to my will.”  He bit his lower lip several times.  “I hear that self-satisfied smirk.”  “Your being under MY influence, shall we say, is the natural, proper, and preferred order of things in the cosmic hierarchy.  Correction, the universal matriarchy.  Do you not agree?”  He began to laugh.  “Would it really matter if I didn’t?”  “No, it would not.  I know you need to agree with me.  I know you want to agree with ME.  I know you will always and everlastingly agree with ME.  You agree with your harmless, little, and lovely KRYSTAL.”  SHE moved HER long, lovely, and well-manicured nails on the table.  SHE smiled wickedly and mischievously when SHE saw him respond to the sound by quickly withdrawing his hands into his lap.  “Why did you move your hands away from ME?  Why did you so quickly retreat from the talented touch of KRYSTAL?”  HER emerald eyes sparkled triumphantly.  “Because I am deeply fascinated by YOU and am pleasurably afraid of YOUR degree of hypnoerotic influence o’er moi.  As if YOU didn’t know.  Interacting with YOU is more thrilling than the wildest roller coaster on Earth.  It is far more mentally and emotionally stimulating.  The pleasure also lasts a whole lot longer.”  He smiled humorously.  “I never have to worry about losing my lunch after a session with THE WORLD’S MOST FASCINATING HYPNOTEUSE.”  SHE leaned back in HER chair and softly purred.  “So, you believe moving your hands away from ME now makes you safe from ME, MY good, little boy?”  SHE paused for several seconds.  “Alas, you have avoided MY hands.  If only there was some other way to.”  SHE slowly and sensuously crossed HER shapely legs.  Several times, SHE mesmerizingly moved the tip of HER open-toed shoe up and down his ankle and shin.  While doing so, SHE seductively wiggled HER toes against his skin.  “Are you safe from ME now,” SHE laughingly asked after completing each cycle?  SHE was thoroughly pleased by his reactions.  “YOU and I know the only kind of man who is safe from YOU is the unfortunate soul who has sensorially never perceived YOU, mentally knows nothing about YOU, and psychologically has no connection to YOU, lovely LADY KRYSTAL MESMER.  My last time of safety from YOU was the moment prior to my wanting to learn more about YOU.  Besides, in this case, who wants to be safe?  What pleasure is there in safety from YOU, anyway?”  “Points well taken.”  “Now, back to the subject at hand.  How would YOU respond to someone who made the following statement.  “I know how to tell blue from green.  Therefore, I know how to see.””  “I would say such a person has much to learn and far more to, hopefully, joyously experience.  Distinguishing one color from another does not even begin to encompass the many wonders of having and using sight.  Recognizing a loved one’s face, literacy, differentiating one artist’s style from another, identifying some beautiful bird or plant, and driving a vehicle are only a few of the many important visual skills.”  “Exactly.  One skill does not a well-developed physical sense make.  Were YOU taught to notice the different sounds made by a dropped penny, nickel, dime, quarter, and silver dollar?  Can YOU tell, not by using YOUR irresistible, emerald eyes, if a person has picked up or is using a knife, spoon, or fork?  Can YOU describe the physical dimensions of a room based solely upon a few noises made within it?”  “Unfortunately, no.”  “These are but a few examples of what a properly trained sense of hearing can tell YOU.  YOUR, formal or amateur, teachers can not entirely be blamed for their failure.  One can not impart what one does not know.”  SHE regarded him pensively.  “How did things come to be this way?”  “In the U.S., there are (if my calculations, and the statistics upon which they are based, are accurate) approximately five hundred and forty sighted persons for every sightless, or as I would say, “Blind,” individual.  Few, if any, of YOUR teachers personally knew anyone who could not see.  Sight-dominated ways of thinking were the only ones available to them.  Parenthetically, these thinking strategies are usually called “normal” by their creators or practitioners who are imprisoned by them.  As it was for YOUR instructors, so was it for their teachers–and so on and so on.  Ironically, what was intended to be, and is frequently perceived as, a tremendous blessing is in fact a great curse.  Sighted persons are consistently and insistently instructed to (and do) highly develop and ubiquitously utilize your visual acuity.  This is a good thing.  Suppose the same degree of training had been applied to your other senses.  Your lives would be far richer, sensorially speaking and perhaps in other ways, than many, if any, of you can possibly imagine.  I am sometimes quite sad when I consider what has been unintentionally withheld from you.  So far as I know every civilization this planet has ever known, irrespective of its size, was, or is, exclusively governed by the sight-ruled mindset.  Our world is far more controlled by sighted persons than it is ruled by men.  YOU may not agree with that statement.  Nevertheless, it is accurate.  In fact, some things YOU may attribute to male dominance are actually spawned by sight domination of most human minds.”  “You will, of course, give ME some examples.”  “I was hoping YOU would ask for evidence.  Yes, MY LADY MESMER, I shall do as YOU bid.  For YOUR will is stronger than my puny, undirected, little, imprudently focused, insignificant, not properly disciplined, minute, male will.  Let us begin with every erotically dominant superior woman’s favorite, the high-heeled shoe, boot, slipper, etc.  Question, am I a man?  I am not asking YOU to tell me if I am much of a man.”  “Yes, you are.”  “Have I ever said I want or need YOU to wear high heels?”  “No.”  “Don’t a significant  majority of YOUR male hypnoerotic clients or male submissives beseech YOU to wear them?  I mean the shoes, not the men.  Though, I believe, many would eagerly accede and succumb to that desire, if YOU ever wished to engage in that activity.”  “Yes, almost all of them do.”  “In what way(s) do I differ from all of YOUR other male hypnotic clients, erotic submissives, or voluntary and very devoted sexual servants?”    “All of them can physically see.”  “Most of YOUR male clientele want YOU to wear high heels.  I am privileged and honored to have been selected as one of YOUR willing and eager male, hypnoerotic clients who also happens to possess a sexually submissive, slaveboy streak.  Therefore, I want YOU to wear high-heeled shoes.  Oops, I do not care if YOU wear them or not.  The syllogism does not hold together.  Conclusion, men who want YOU to wear high heels desire this because they can see, not because they are men.  On a more personal note, YOU know very well what I want.  I do not desire YOU to go through any rigorous or elaborate preparations for me.  I don’t wish YOU to psych YOURSELF into some specific frame of mind before we spend any time together.  When I am in YOUR presence, I want YOU to kick off YOUR shoes, let YOUR hair down, (Do both of these figuratively or literally or both.) and enjoy YOURSELF.  That means much more to me than anything YOU could wear, any words YOU might say, or any act YOU can do.  Two sources of YOUR immense, full, and feminine power supersede all the others combined.  I know what hey are.  Why would I overly concern myself with, or devote much of my focus to or both, YOUR shoes, clothes, hypnotic fixation devices, BDSM paraphernalia, any or all aspects of YOUR physical appearance, or even YOUR oh so sexy and irresistible voice?  Without YOUR two greatest assets all the others would have taken YOU, or any other person who possessed their equivalents, only so far.”  He paused for several seconds and took three or four deep breaths.  “YOU know the only two things I truly want from YOU, have ever desired from YOU, and will ever long for from YOU are invisible, inaudible, untouchable, and not directly detectable by any of the other two senses.  The appetizer(s) or the dessert(s) hold not my interest.  Only the two main courses will satisfy me!  The frosting is not the object of my search.  The two cakes are my sole longing!”  SHE clearly felt the emotion behind his words.  SHE was acutely aware he was opening himself to HER.  SHE also knew he was doing something else as well.  Due to both (but particularly the latter) of these things SHE did not speak.  On this sole occasion, SHE was glad he could neither see HER facial expression nor read the unspoken message(s) in HER eyes.  For the latter SHE was especially grateful.  SHE fervently hoped HER thoughts or feelings or both were not communicated by some nonvisual cue(s).  SHE was unsure where this strand of their conversation would lead.  SHE had to change the subject ASAP.  “What other evidence, if any, can you offer in support of your contention?”  He knew how perceptive SHE was.  He assumed SHE had gotten his message.  He suspected what SHE had done.  He believed it was unnecessary and unwise to press HER on this point.  He hoped he could restrain himself and wait for a more opportune time and place.  He fervently wished these two items would soon manifest themselves.  “Have YOU ever encountered any men who, based on YOUR looks and particularly the color of YOUR hair, assumed YOU were stupid or naive or both?”  “Yes, I have.”  “How many of these men were sightless?”  “None of them lacked physical sight.”  “Parenthetical question, will YOU tell me what YOU did with, or should I say to, some of these males?  YOU may not be cognizant of this fact.  Sometimes, I have voyeuristic and sadistic tendencies.”  “Perhaps someday, if you are a good, little boy for KRYSTAL.”  “I promise to be good.  I will even be bad if YOU tell me to.”  “I like a man who knows and freely acknowledges his place.”  “In my judgment, attempting to correlate the size of an individual’s pyloric sphincter to that person’s intelligence level, is as sensible as linking someone’s hair color to that person’s expected mental capacity.  Now I Return to the topic.  Have I ever indicated, in any way, I believed YOU are not intelligent?”  “Fortunately, for you, you have not.”  “The desire for self-preservation can be very beneficial.  I do not claim to be the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree.  However, I know enough to not get on YOUR bad side.  Sidebar, YOUR PREDECESSOR and MENTOR, MISTRESS MARQUESA, states, in the first message in HER “Setting a Standard” series, the opinion that an excellent dominant need not be an Einstein clone.  I concur.  I am only a man.  There is no other legitimate option than for me to subscribe to what YOUR FELLOW PRACTITIONER OF MIND MOLDING says.  YOU know I am afraid of HER.  Please don’t tell HER.  However, anyone who knows YOU, or HER, well realizes BOTH OF YOU are far closer to the upper end of the intelligence spectrum than YOU are to the other one.  Pardon me, second sidebar.  YOU are at times paradoxical.  I believe YOU desire to have certain people know who YOU are and what YOU are about.  YOUR website, and YOUR other content, can reveal much about YOU to one who is astute and is not so taken by the lovely trees that he or she does not perceive the forest.  Both of us know YOU are highly detail-oriented.  YOU would have done a far better job of covering YOUR tracks and concealing YOURSELF had YOU wished to remain inconspicuous and incognito to everyone.  Yet, YOU will not jump up on a table (figuratively, I am unsure about literally, speaking) and shout, “Here I am, look at ME!”  This is what I think and feel YOU want.  Anyone who desires to truly know YOU should: gather and analyze all legally permissible extant data concerning YOU; draw conclusions based on the information and the concomitant analysis; and combine these facts, the deductive reasoning, and their progeny along with any intuitive insights into a composite perception of YOUR nonmaterial essence.  End of final sidebar.”  He was doing it again.  SHE resolved SHE would find out, in exact detail, how he had come to know HER so well.  There was no time like the present to begin this knowledge transfer.  “How do you arrive at your conclusions concerning ME?”  “The formula is simple.  The execution may be difficult.  Accurate data, plus error-free processing, equals the right conclusion.  The acronym for this is “ADPEPERC.”  For this strategy to work correctly both the information and the analysis must be flawless.  YOU provided the raw data.”  “Give me a specific example of how you do this?”  “YOUR title and name are, LADY KRYSTAL MESMER.  LADY, is a term of feminine authority.  It also has connotations of gentleness, graciousness, elegance, nobility of personality or character, and refinement.  MESMER, is an allusion or link to the modern discoverer, or pioneering developer, of hypnosis.  A crystal is often used as a fixation point.  YOUR given name is spelled with a “K” and not a “C.”  The question which rose in my mind was, why?  KRYSTAL with a “K” is similar to and somewhat different from crystal with a “c.”  My conclusion is YOU want those who are astute to comprehend YOU share similarities with other hypnotists and are also a unique personage.  Shakespeare poses the question, “What’s in a name?”  YOUR name and title reveal much concerning YOU.  I think there are two types of perception, passive and active.  In passive perception, one is aware of what one’s sense(s) are receiving.  Little or no thought is deliberately applied to the particular stimulus.  In active perception, the perceiver seeks to interact with the sensory perception(s).  The perceiver internally, and in some instances externally, asks questions about some stimulus.  The perceiving person attempts to divine any possible significance pertaining to the entire stimulus or some characteristic(s) thereof.  “THE PRETENDER” was a science fiction and mystery show produced in the 1990’s.  “Mr. Lee” is the title of an episode during the show’s third season.  Mr. Lee is a sightless Chinese detective hired by someone in The Center to track down an escaped pretender named Jarod.  Mr. Lee uses ADPEPERC and active perception.  That YOU watch this episode is my humble recommendation.  When YOU comprehend how Mr. Lee accomplishes his goal, YOU will possess a better understanding of how I tend to analyze things.”  “Give ME another example.”  The relationships of sexually dominant women to their feet and to high-heeled shoes should do nicely.  To begin my understanding of these relationships, required me to simulate the experience of walking in high heels.  Is AN EMERALD-EYED HYPNOTEUSE known to me getting ideas?  The conclusion, based upon my simulation is, walking in high heels is unnatural, is not easy to do, is uncomfortable, causes sore feet, and is potentially injurious.  Why would any woman choose to walk in those, in my opinion, hideous things?  Aesthetics is the only reasonable answer.  Some sighted people have said standing or walking in high heels accentuates the wearer’s calves, thighs, hips, buttocks, breasts, and certain movements of these aforementioned body parts.  Also, certain clothing styles are supposedly far more appealing if the wearer is in high heels.  The legal phrase, “quid pro quo,” describes the relationships under discussion.  The following are my perceptions of a dominant woman’s thought process pertaining to these matters.  “My willing submissives often want Me to wear high heels.  High heels make My feet sore.  In exchange for Me wearing high heels, My erotic submissives will: kneel at My feet; prostrate themselves at My feet; lick and/or kiss My feet; massage My feet; worship My feet; etc.”  Hypnoerotically dominant Superior Women add Their Own unique wrinkle to these relationships.  my perceptions of Their thoughts are these.  “Along with what a nonhypnotic romantic or professional dominant has Her submissive clients do with respect to Her feet, I shall use My feet as one of My chief mesmeric induction fixation points.  The male gets what he wants, I.E. to look at Me wear high heels.  While this occurs, I will get what I want, I.E. the establishment, maintenance, or increase of My influence or control over his masculine mind.””  SHE mentally noted the most salient points he had made.  “Let us go back to the members of your gender.  I will concede, for now, that some of men’s more irritating actions are not necessarily inherently and/or inextricably linked to their possession of a Y-chromosome.  How can a sighted person combat the effects of sight-domination?”  “I hoped YOU would ask me that.  Soon I shall answer YOUR question.  Before doing so, some points should be made concerning the power and ubiquitousness of sight domination.  According to several different sources i’ve come across between 60 and 80 percent of all information a sighted person receives is visual data.  YOUR Suzie Q’s my breasts are missing clip is, for reasons which are very evident to me, far more important than YOU may have ever realized.  It raises some interesting and, in some cases, disturbing issues.”  “How does it do that?”  “In YOUR instructions, YOU tell Suzie she will not be able to see her breasts.  YOU never give her any commands concerning the use of her hands.  She could have used them to determine if her boobs were still extant.  YOUR instructions indicate either YOU did not consider her tactile sense or YOU were unconcerned about its use.  Based upon what is said in this clip, my assumption was that Suzie never raised either or both of her hands to her chest.  A friend of mine, who viewed this clip, informed me this was not so.  Had Suzie never felt her chest, my conclusion would be she automatically and unquestioningly accepted the validity of what her vision reported to her mind.  That she used her hands and nevertheless did not perceive her breasts’ existence is even more intriguing.  There are two probable explanations for this state of affairs.  First, her sense of touch was altered, by YOUR posthypnotic suggestion that she could not perceive her breasts’ existence, as well as her vision.  Second, the accurate information related by her hands was overridden by the fallacious data transmitted by her eyes or by YOUR postmesmeric commands or both.  That clip clearly indicates that sight controls the minds of seeing persons.  Why is vision’s influence so powerful?  There are three possibilities.  First, sight domination is hard-wired into the sighted human’s brain.  If this is so, there may be, at most, little a seeing person can do to reduce or eliminate its presence.  Second, vision domination is only learned.  Should this be the case, what has been learned, perhaps, can be unlearned.  The question is, is any sighted person willing to be reeducated?  Third, sight domination is to some degree hard-wired and to a certain extent learned.  In this circumstance, the ability to alter its control is dependent upon how much of it is learned.”  He briefly paused in his discourse.  “For most of our history it has been somewhat tedious and time-consuming for someone to manipulate the images another person received.  During those days, vision domination was not so problematic and fraught with potential perils as it now is.  Those earlier days are gone.  It is highly unlikely they shall ever return.  Now it is quite easy to capture, alter, and transmit an image to another person.  In many instances, it is difficult or impossible for the person receiving the image to know it has been changed.  Suppose someone intentionally changed then transmitted some image(s) to persuade people to a particular point of view.  How many sighted persons tend to question some image seen on a television screen?  Advanced image manipulation capabilities are fast becoming far more available to many more entities.  That sighted persons tend to unthinkingly, or as many of them would say, “blindly,” accept what their vision reports is a grave danger.  YOU know, all too well, how malleable the human mind can be.  Consider the ramifications of what has been said.”  SHE was doing precisely that.  It would take some time and effort to fully assimilate the points he had elaborated upon.  “Now shall my words turn to YOUR previous question.  How can a sighted individual combat the power of vision domination over that person’s mind?”  He was thoughtful for a few moments.  “YOUR auditory acuity YOU desire to increase?  Two things must have YOU.  First, a guide and a teacher there must be.  Second, much practice, even more practice, and still yet more much more practice must YOU.  YOUR emerald eyes can deceive and enslave YOU.  Not all things do they perceive.  Them alone do not trust.  Strong are YOUR other senses.  Tell YOU much they can.  Mind what they have to say.  Help YOU much can they.  Yes!  Above all else this saying remember, “The keenest eye is the one that looks inward; which sees nothing yet perceives all things.””  SHE placed HER palms together, pointed HER ten digits upward, and put a space between HER thumbs and HER fingers.  “Thank you, Master Yoda.  I shall try.”  “No,” he answered HER!  “Either do or do not.  There is no try.  Far more attractive are YOU than other Skywalkers.”  He whistled twice.  “A Jedi Master and a wolf.”  “Now, KRYSTAL, anyone with any sense is absolutely aware that all men are only puppy dogs to YOU and the other Superior Women within the ranks of The Sisterhood.”  “Yes, MY pet.  Who is MY good boy?”  “Arf, arf, arf, arf.  KRYSTAL,”  he paused slightly and plaintively lowered his eyelids, “Many professional or amateur erotically dominant persons seemed to be inextricably tied to various forms of physical restraint.  Yes, it’s an awful and all too accurate pun.  YOU know how I am about collars, hoods, masks, blindfolds, gags, and the like.  I can not, I can’t, I just can’t.  No, no I beg and beseech YOU!  Please do not ever ask, or ever compel, me to do that!”  His voice was halting.  “I know and I understand.  My deep and abiding influence or control can be established, maintained, or increased in a multitude of such subtle and oh so very pleasurable ways.  In your case, no physical collar or its ilk is necessary.”  SHE comfortingly stroked the back of his neck while SHE spake.  “I can not tell YOU how much that means to me.  One day, hopefully, an appropriate means of expressing my enormous gratitude will be available to me.  So far as YOUR hearing is concerned, for now, I have two suggestions.  First, make use of pictureless storytelling media, in other words, audio books or old radio programs.  YOU may not like my second proposal.”  “Why is that?”  “It requires YOU to temporarily neutralize YOUR primary sense.”  “You want ME to blindfold MYSELF?”  “An intriguing, and for me possibly erotic, idea–but no.  All I am asking YOU to do is watch what YOU usually do on TV with YOUR screen completely covered by a totally nontransparent object.”  “I am not thrilled by that idea,” KRYSTAL responded.  “Oh come on, it will be such fun!”  “And who will enjoy ME doing this?”  “Why me of course,” he said with a grin.  “Indeed, MY little pet.  I perceive some further training is in order.”  SHE leaned across the table so his senses would detect, absorb, and be delightfully overcome by HER physical presence.  Then SHE started stimulating his earlobes with HER thumbnails.  It took some time for his breathing to return to its normal rate.  More than once he swallowed hard.  “LADY KRYSTAL MESMER, YOU know how hard it is for me to think straight when YOU do that.”  “Oh, I am soooooo sorry.  Would you like ME to stop?  Would you rather I never touched you in this way ever again?”  A knowing smile spread over her lips.  “Why do YOU insist upon tormenting me by mentioning such horrible, terrible, and frighteningly dreadful dooms to me?  Sometimes, YOU are so bad!  YOU know, full well, I do not want YOU to stop.  YOU also know why I (will, if necessary, fall to my knees and) beseech YOU to continue.  It has to do with four words YOU have heard on a multitude of occasions.  “That! feels! so! good!””  “You say it, but you’ll never do it,” KRYSTAL said.  “Do what,” he inquired?  “Fall to your knees and tell ME how much you adore it when I touch you like this.”  SHE slightly intensified HER pressure.  “Yes, I will.”  “Do it now,” SHE gently and firmly ordered.  “Do what?”  “Do not pretend you did not hear ME, MY pet.  Fall to your knees and tell ME how much you want and need ME to touch you this way,” SHE said insistently.  HER command was instantaneously heeded.  “When will I ever learn not to say or write such things to YOU?  I should always bear in mind YOUR degree of precision with respect to language usage.  YOU often talk with YOUR clients about a magical, mesmerizing, irresistible crystal.  They usually, if not always, assume YOU mean the ball or the stone in YOUR pendant or ring.  Approximately sixty-five inches is The height of the actual magical, mesmerizing, irresistible KRYSTAL.  Then there is one of YOUR favorite phrases, “harmless, little (insert specific item here).””  “What makes you think I will permit you to acquire or retain such knowledge,” SHE inquired menacingly?  SHE then laughed seductively.  “So that explains it.  I should have known.  Before I take my inevitable nap at YOUR command, and begin my unavoidable journey to only YOU know where, may I ask   YOU some questions?”  “Permission granted,” she said indulgently.  “Am I in trouble?”  “We shall see.”  “Would this be due to my remarks about YOUR being blindfolded being a turn on for me and my enjoyment of YOUR watching television sans video output?”  “Perhaps.”  “Will YOU be gentle with me?  YOU know I am only a helpless and defenseless male who is completely powerless to resist YOUR sundry conspicuous charms and captivating capacities.”  “Neither that nor your flattery nor both will save you, MY mischievous miscreant soon to be magically and mystically mesmerized into magnificent, male mindlessness.”  “I didn’t think it would.  Nevertheless, I had to try.”  SHE employed his trigger.  SHE watched him slide so easily and peacefully under the subtle sorceries of HER siren spell.  As SHE softly spoke to him SHE massaged the area around his eyes with HER fingertips or stimulated his nerve endings by gently scratching his skin with HER nails.  SHE knew the affect HER actions would have upon him.  SHE was aware he rarely allowed anyone or anything to touch his neck, head, or especially his face.  He had been this way from birth.  He had granted HER license to touch him whenever, and almost wherever, SHE wished.  He would not allow anyone else SHE knew to do so.  SHE was the only one he trusted in such matters.  SHE fully recognized the importance of the liberty and accompanying responsibility SHE had been given.  HER tender and talented hands sent him deeper, deeper down, and still deeper down into the depths of HER hypnotic world, HER hypnotic words, HER hypnotic ways, HER hypnotic webs, HER hypnotic will, and HER hypnotic whimsicalness.  “And now, MY not quite completely compliant pet, let’s have a little fun!”  As SHE walked about the store, SHE recalled listening to some of HER older relatives and familial friends talk of listening to the radio as their primary means of entertainment.  SHE vaguely remembered the names of some of the programs they mentioned.  SHE was surprised to discover how much of this auditory material still existed.  HER sightless client had given HER some excellent referrals for finding old-time radio shows and other audio material.  He would not remember having done so.  This was as it should be.  No matter how hard he tried to lift it, the Vail of secrecy would remain firmly locked in place over his mentally fascinated, emotionally liberated, erotically stimulated, mistressfully mesmerized, masterfully manipulated, minuscule, male mind.  He would never recollect several interesting and amusing things he had done on that day.  Not until, or unless, SHE wished him to know what had occurred.SHE had seen to it that this was so.  He had long known of HER powerful and insatiable mischievous streak and HER wicked and spontaneous sense of humor.  He also knew (though the details were often to some degree obliterated) he was at times the target of these tendencies.  HER playing with his memory was just a little payback for those two expressions of his sense of humor at HER expense.  It was also a reminder to all concerned regarding the identity of who ruled the roost, the rooster, and all synonyms for the latter.  “May I help YOU?”  The salesperson was young, eager, and quite attentive.  KRYSTAL took note that he was definitely a leg man.  SHE had finely honed HER natural perceptiveness through considerable training and persistent practice.  The importance of being observant was one of the themes SHE sought to implant in the consciousness of any of HER (past or present) protégés.  One of Homer Teeter Herreshoff’s (HER sightless friend) many observations about sighted people (KRYSTAL also learned from him that analyzing the beliefs, thought processes, actions, and eccentricities of sighted people was a frequently practiced and psychologically necessary activity for him and some of his closest visually impaired friends.) was, “Where the eyes are the mind tends to be.”  This was one of the maxims governing HER understanding of, interactions with, and influence or control over sighted men.  (This salesman was no exception to the rule.  SHE had surreptitiously tracked his eye movements.  SHE knew what he liked.)  Despite Homer’s insistence, and several points of evidence SHE could not presently completely refute, part of HER was not ready to believe his quote was nearly as applicable to sighted women as it was for there male counterparts.  “A friend of mine recommended I begin listening to old radio shows.  There are so many available choices.  What would you suggest?”  He hoped THIS BEAUTIFUL BLONDE (wearing, and WHO so gracefully moved in, those sexy, open-toed, high-heeled, stiletto shoes he had always loved so ardently) would never know what he actually wanted to suggest.  He needed this job.  He needed it badly.  His libido would need to be whipped into submission.  He scratched and bowed his slightly balding head.  “Perhaps a compilation, consisting of various shows from different genres, is in order?”  “Yes, I think that will do nicely.  You have been very helpful.”  “I always endeavor to serve,” he responded politely.  “I like a man who enjoys servitude.”  During their exchange, SHE invitingly smiled, imperially gazed, and impishly winked at him once or twice.  He was uncertain what SHE meant by HER last remark.  Some sort of premonition warned him he might not want to find out.  Still, there was some quality about HER.  He could not put it into words.  It was impossible for him to fully grasp.  It was becoming more and more difficult for him to think coherently.  He did not comprehend.  How was this possible?  Why was this happening?  What had SHE done to him?  Nevertheless he could not truthfully deny that SHE was, SHE was, SHE was.  He had to close his eyes for several seconds before he could speak to HER once more.  “Will that be all?”  “For the present.”  For a second time he was puzzled by HER most recent statement.  What was SHE attempting to tell him?  Was SHE, in fact, trying to tell him anything beyond the obvious?  Was it all in his mind?  Did he have some justification to believe?  Once again there was that foreboding, that fascination, and that frustration.  He never had any breathing problems before now.  He wondered why was it so warm in this air-conditioned store?  “Very good, Ms.”  “MESMER. MY name is KRYS!TAL MES!MER.”  He escorted HER to the cashier.  He watched HER pay for HER purchase.  He distinctly heard HER bid him, “Farewell.”  He regretfully watched HER, at last, walk Out of his sight.  He was never so relieved and so sorry that someone he so scarcely knew was so soon departed.  SHE was pleasantly surprised by how much SHE enjoyed using only HER ears.  Homer, HER sole acquaintance who had fallen so completely under HER spell without ever succumbing to, and becoming irretrievably lost in, HER emerald eyes, had been right.  Listening to a story and not having the brain-numbing crutch of external images did stimulate HER agile mind.  Not having someone else’s manufactured images to fall back on forced HER to conceive and develop HER own mental pictures based on what HER ears perceived and HER mind believed.  SHE would thank him for this excellent idea some day.  Maybe SHE would do so before SHE allowed him to recall he had ever mentioned old radio programs to HER.  His response might be quite amusing.  SHE particularly loved placing certain kinds of people in deep hypnosis: those who thought they could not be mesmerized; those (especially men) who were absolutely, definitely, and totally cocksure they could never be hypnotized–particularly by an attractive woman and a blonde at that; and those whose personalities were drastically altered by mesmerism and a little creative, shall we say, encouragement.  He belonged to the last group.  He was always so controlled, logical, precise, reserved, seemingly unemotional, and sometimes misperceived as uncaring in his normal conscious state of mind.  Under HER hypnotic persuasion he was quite different.  He was almost unrecognizable.  It was such fun to see and especially to cause.  SHE recalled some incidents then heartily laughed aloud and broadly smiled to HERSELF.  SHE was somewhat taken aback by the scope of subjects covered in old-time radio shows.  Science fiction and mystery shows were particularly good in this regard.  Programs like, “The Whistler” encouraged HER to employ ADPEPERC and active perception.  Sci-fi shows, like “X Minus One,” dealt with topics like: the treatment of minorities; the potential dangers of unquestioning acceptance of dogmatic orthodoxy in any form or in any venue; the possible pitfalls of overly relying upon technology; the meaning of being human; and so much more.  SHE was quite pleasantly surprised.  The Real Dark Side’s agent, whom SHE had first cumulatively and then deeply hypnotized, had been right again.  SHE would give him and HERSELF a treat for all he had done for HER.  SHE pondered the question, what should it be?  SHE immediately hit the button sending the CD player to the beginning of the currently playing track.  SHE had to hear that once more.  Memories of conversations SHE had overheard concerning this particular radio series came back to HER mind.  The Shadow was a crime fighter who used invisibility while gathering information, questioning witnesses, interrogating suspects, and confronting the guilty.  SHE listened to the program’s segment again.  SHE had indeed heard what SHE thought SHE’d heard.  The Shadow’s invisibility was a combination of telepathy and mesmerism.  Over the next few days SHE turned the idea over and over in HER thoughts.  SHE had manipulated a person’s sensory perception of reality on many occasions.  Yet, SHE had never considered inducing, in any of HER myriad subjects, HER perceived partial or total invisibility.  Now the notion was firmly implanted in HER consciousness.  Now SHE gave it legitimate and serious consideration.  SHE meticulously calculated all of the logistics and carefully pondered each of the ramifications of undertaking this enterprise.  LADY KRYSTAL MESMER’s innate, insatiable, and ubiquitously recognized curiosity had served HER interests well for many years.  It was one of the primary impetuses for HER exploration and eventual mastery of hypnosis in general and erotic mesmerism in particular.  SHE also thrived on challenges.  What was easy or mundane or both was irritating and anathema to HER frequently and conspicuously restless psyche.  Long ago SHE realized experimentation was one of the keys to knowledge, wisdom, progress, innovation, HER personal accomplishments, and HER material success.  Like a minuscule spark in an immense drought-stricken wood, the idea of being perceived as invisible by a sighted individual steadily grew and grew in strength.  In the end SHE could stand it no longer.  SHE had to know the truth.  “LADY MESMER, may I make a request,” said Jefferson Thomason?  He was one of her more well-educated and generous hypnoerotic clients.  “What do you wish,” KRYSTAL responded?  “Lately, my life has been far too predictable.  I could really use a change, some variety, anything to get me out of this insufferably dull and humdrum routine.”  “What did you have in mind?”  “I just don’t know.  I was really hoping YOU would have some ideas.  I don’t wand to be burdensome.  If YOU don’t feel YOU’re up to the challenge, today, perhaps we should reschedule this session?”  SHE focused upon him and intensified HER stare.  SHE was completely cognizant of how much he loved the beauty and respectfully feared the power of the large, luminous, and apocalyptic emerald windows to and mirrors of HER soul.  He looked so adorable whenever he began to squirm under HER apparently all-consuming, all-encompassing, all-knowing, and all-powerful gaze.  SHE leaned back in HER comfortable armchair and slowly and sensuously lowered HER eyelids.  After a couple of minutes SHE sat upright and directed HER penetrating gaze at him a second time.  “I think I have just the thing.  Yes, I believe this will do nicely.”  “Any hints or clues?”  “Of course not, silly boy.  That would spoil the surprise.  Just sit back, relax, and put all your trust in your harmless, little KRYSTAL.”  By nature and training LADY KRYSTAL MESMER was an impressively logical and meticulously detail-oriented personage.  SHE had striven to achieve personal balance by cultivating, bringing forth, and expressing HER whimsical, carefree, and spontaneous side.  SHE learned one means of accomplishing this was by recognizing and subsequently seizing an opportunity when it was presented to HER.  HER bored pet wanted something out of the ordinary.  SHE yearned to conduct HER most unorthodox (and many might say, “outlandish,”) hypnotic experiment.  Serendipity and synchronicity had come through once again.  “Now, my pet and third President of the United States, I’d like to show you one of MY newest, little toys.”  SHE produced a small prism which rotated on a base.  SHE set it near one of the candles SHE so adored and so frequently utilized.  “Now, I want you to focus all of your considerable concentration on the harmless, little, rotating prism you see before you.  See how it spins so easily and peacefully.  See how MY little toy turns slowly, so slowly, so, so slowly.  Now, see how the candle’s soft, wonderful light seems to dance on the prism’s.  smooth and shiny sur!fa!ces!  See the multitude of magnificent colors and shades.  See how the candle’s soft, soo!thing light seems to sparkle and shimmer in such a so!porif!ic and mes!merizing man!ner.  See how the candle’s captivating light seems to reflect and refract off of the prism’s smooth, soo!thing, and sen!suous sur!fa!ces.  And now notice that your tired and oh so sleepy eyes are becoming heavier and heavier.  And yet, it feels so good to just relax and let all of your attention center on the magical and mystical softly swirling prism as it soo!thingly spins before your eyes.  Good.  Very good.  You are doing so very well.”  SHE watched his face and form react.  As light can be drawn into a black hole’s gravitational field, so his mind was effortlessly captivated, confiscated, and consumed by the perfect power of the smoothly spinning prism.  KRYSTAL conjectured that this tiny, trifling trinket would be one of HER most subtle and effective toys.  SHE smiled with delight at the prospect and all it portended.  “Jefferson, you will listen very carefully to MY instructions.  For MY thoughts are your thoughts.  MY voice is the only thing you need to hear.  MY will is stronger than your will.  MY voice is the only thing you want to hear.  For MY words are your words.  MY voice is the only thing you will hear.  MY! will! is stronger than your will.  Any other sound you may hear will only compel you to devote more and more of your attention to the soft, soothing, seductive, soporific, and silky sound of MY mystical, magical, magnetic, magnificent, and mesmerizing voice.  You will be unable to see ME after I awaken you from your hypnotic trance.  No matter how hard you try, you will not be able to see ME.  For MY! will! is! stronger! than your will.  Your subconscious mind will totally remember and perfectly perform your instructions.  MY thoughts are your thoughts.  When you try to see ME, you will feel a potent and powerful arousal.  MY words are your words.  MY instructions are your instructions.  The harder and harder you try to see ME, the stronger and stronger the arousal of your manhood will become.  For MY will is your will is MY will that you yearn to obey above all else.  You will be completely unable to release this sexual tension until I command you to do so.  You will not cum until I command you to cum for me.  You can only cum at my command.  Shake your head from side to side and say, “yes,” if you understand your commands.”  SHE saw and Heard him do as he was bidden.  The time had come for the acid test.  “I will count up from one to four.  One, beginning to effortlessly and peacefully come up from your quiet, tranquil place in deep, deep hypnosis.  Only your subconscious mind will recall all of your instructions.  Two, your tired and heavy eyes are slowly beginning to open.  Your subconscious mind will completely carry out and perfectly perform all of MY commands.  Three, you are becoming more and more aware of everything around you.  Your eyes feel as if they have been gently and lovingly washed in cool, clean, crys!tal clear alpine spring water.  MY! will! is! stron!ger than! your will.  And finally four, your eyes are completely open, you are totally alert, and you feel more wonderful than you have ever felt.”  Thomason stretched contentedly after rubbing his temples and his eyes.  He did not know how SHE did it, but each hypnosis session with HER was more effective than any of its predecessors.  He did not recall ever telling HER this.  He would not let this opportunity slip through his fingers.  “KRYSTAL, how do YOU do it?”  “Do what?”  “Make each visit more.  LADY MESMER?”  SHE heard the concern in his voice and saw his eyes darting about the familiar room.  “Jefferson, is something wrong?”  “Why can’t I see YOU?”  “What do you mean?”  “I mean I can not see YOU.”  “Dear boy, you must be mistaken.  Perhaps, after coming out of your trance state, your eyes haven’t adjusted to the lower level of light in this room.”  “i’ve never had that problem before.  Something is weird.  I can see myself.  I can see every object in this room.  But I can not see YOU at all.”  “Come now, MY pet.  I believe you are playing with ME.”  “No, I am being serious.  I still can’t see YOU.”  He turned his face toward the voice.  He saw HER chair.  He saw HER desk.  He did not see HER.  “Maybe the effects of your hypnosis haven’t worn off completely.  Try and really focus your sexy eyes,” KRYSTAL MESMER suggested.  “That might help.”  He did so.  Nothing.  He tried even harder.  Still nothing.  He tried as hard as he possibly could.  Still there was nothing.  There was no visible sign of LADY KRYSTAL MESMER.  Jefferson Thomason was aroused.  He did not understand.  Oh boy, was this fellow aroused.  What was his body doing to him?  My heavens; my stars; my God, my Goddess, my Gods, whatever Jefferson Thomason Jefferson was never, ever, ever so, so aroused in his entire, freaking life!  Why was this happening to him?  His inability to see KRYSTAL (One horrible thought eclipsed all others.  He might never again lose his heart, his mind, his soul, his spirit, his will, his body, his feelings, an everything else he possessed in the unfathomable, fathomless fathoms of LADY KRYSTAL MESMER’s irresistible, ensorcelling, enervating, entrancing, emerald eyes.) was bad enough.  But this arousal was so sudden, so strong, and so inexplicable.  He wondered if his body was going out of its mind?  SHE saw and heard his various reactions to HER assumed cloak of invisibility and his arousal to end all arousals.  It was difficult for HER to determine which experience affected him more profoundly.  One thing was absolutely certain.  The two in concert were more than enough to neutralize any mortal man.  Successful mind manipulation was one thing.  This was far beyond anything SHE had ever done and everything SHE had ever heard of or seen.  “Jefferson Thomason, hear and obey my command.  Cum for me!  Cum! for your KRYSTAL!  Cum! now! for LADY! KRYSTAL! MESMER!”  Did he have any choice?  SHE was so glad he could not pay any attention to the expression on HER lovely face.  Never had SHE seen a man’s body move in quite that way nor nearly so forcefully.  SHE led him back down into deep, deep hypnosis.  SHE locked all knowledge of today’s session in the lowest bowels of his subconscious mind.  SHE removed the posthypnotic suggestions SHE had issued on this day.  SHE gently directed his mental processes back to his conscious state of being.  Before his departure, he wondered aloud why his clothing felt so odd?  SHE provided him no clue.  When SHE was alone, SHE mentally reviewed the events of Jefferson Thomason’s latest session.  Everything had gone swimmingly.  Perceived total invisibility could be achieved.  Now the question was, what could or would SHE do with it?  The Shadow used his powers to battle evildoers.  Might it be possible for HER to do the same?  KRYSTAL made no secret of HER intense burning desire for control: of HERSELF; of HER environment; and, when achievable, HER interactions with others.  THIS SUPERIOR WOMAN, like every other homo sapiens, could manipulate only so many of life’s variables.  Finding a circumstance in which it was appropriate for HER to use HER newfound skill was one of these.  SHE reluctantly resigned HERSELF to simply waiting (as much as it irked HER to do so) for the correct situation to present itself.  HER deep and abiding desire to manage reality would not be entirely denied.  First, SHE did extensive research on The Shadow.  Then, SHE decided it was meet for HER to assign a suitable pseudonym to HER invisible alter ego.  The Shadow was taken.  Still, in some way, SHE wished to properly honor Walter Gibson and the others whose labors had created and brought to life Kent Allard and Lamont Cranston.  HER greatest success came from deftly manipulating the erotic pleasures of others.  After rejecting a multitude of candidates, SHE finally had the perfect choice.  CUM XUMBRAX had a definite ring to it.  Third, SHE practiced and refined a variety of laughs.  These were designed to induce specific reactions in HER victims.  Everything from irresistible seduction to excruciating terror.  Some of HER laughs were intended to arouse, bring forth, and exacerbate multiple, and sometimes paradoxical, (SHE readily knew and perpetually employed, in HER profoundly pleasurable professional and private pursuits, the (psychologically destabilizing and perhaps paralyzing) power of the paradox.) feelings.  HER thespian interest, training, and ability served HER well.  Fourth, SHE brushed up on HER long-neglected, and previously in HER evaluation patently useless, talent for ventriloquism.  From the moment he dragged himself through the door, his expression revealed something was horribly wrong.  He sat down heavily in the chair and glowered at the floor.  KRYSTAL came to stand behind him and began maternally massaging HER deeply discouraged pet’s neck, shoulders, and back.  “Jefferson, what is wrong, my dear, good, little boy,” SHE inquired empathetically?  “It’s my second cousin, Liana O’Hara.”  “What is wrong with her?”  “She is not the problem.  It’s that miserable!, wretched!!, repulsive!!!, obnoxious!!!!, slimy!!!!!, misbegotten!!!!!!, insigrevious!!!!!!! jackasshole!!!!!!!! of a fiancé of hers i’d like to slowly strangle, excruciatingly impale, and agonizingly draw and quarter so very, very slow!ly!”  The menace with which he uttered the last word surprised and temporarily unnerved HER.  The increasing intensity of the expressions which crossed his visage, and his voice’s rise in volume and pitch, declared what he thought of and felt about this loathsome creature who called him/it-self a man and a human being.  “You know murder is wrong,” stated SHE.  “In my judgment it would be justifiable, and hopefully chronically and perniciously torturous, vermin eradication.”  SHE spoke to him in a professorial tone.  “Now, Jefferson, as I have frequently reminded you, you must, at times, fully express your deepest feelings.”  SHE saw him stick out his tongue and waggle it at HER facetious advice.  “What, exactly, has he, excuse ME it, done?”  “A far more apt question is, “What has Brutus Iago Quisling not done?”  LADY MESMER could not contain HERSELF.  SHE burst out in unmanageable peals of laughter.  For some time SHE could not hold HERSELF erect.  When SHE, at long last, was able to do so, tears still streamed from HER eyes.  “Please, MY precious petite pet, tell ME you are pulling MY leg.”  He conjectured that if SHE had been telepathic he would have been in serious trouble long ago, and on a myriad of occasions, concerning the number and types of thoughts he had regarding HER lovely legs.  HER reference to him pulling HER leg did not make things any easier for him.  It, however, did make them more fun and interesting.  He hoped SHE would never probe him on such matters while he was in trance.  This, of course, assumed SHE had not previously examined his fantasies on this subject.  He did not recall HER ever having done so.  Then again, would KRYSTAL let him?  Asking HER about this might give HER ideas.  He knew all too well, by observation and particularly personal experience, SHE had more than enough of those on HER own.  “No, that is its name.”  “Was there a frustrated, Shakespearean thespian dwelling within his matriarch or sire or both?”  “I know next to nothing about his progenitors.”  “What were his parents thinking?”  “Had its parents been thoughtful, his brothers and sisters would have had one less sibling, or pet, or whatever it is.”  “What has he done to your cousin?  Is he unfaithful?”  “Judas Iscariot, Delilah, and Benedict Arnold combined were not as faithless as it has been to Liana.  When she is not with it, it will chase anything in a skirt, a dress, or wearing anything else.”  “Have you, or anyone else, ever told her about this cad?”  “No, I have not.  She told me to never again interfere in her romantic relationships.  I don’t think anyone else has told her anything.”  “Are there any places he usually frequents when he’s sniffing for, as it would probably say, “Fresh meat?””  “Yes.  He hangs out in a couple of favorite haunts and watering holes.  i’d really like to not think about this mess for a while.  Would YOU please do that marvelous and miraculously mind-blowing technique of YOURS with the thumbs?  Oh yes!  That’s the one.  OH! YES!!  Thank YOU.  Oh! oh YES!!!  YOU are sooooooo good.  My Goddess YES!!!!…”  KRYSTAL put the finishing touches on HER preparations for HER night’s work.  SHE would precisely script everything to the best of HER considerable abilities.  SHE reviewed HER appearance in HER favorite full-length mirror.  What makeup SHE wore was magnificently dazzling and subtly understated.  HER clothing was elegant with just the barest (almost imperceptible, yet, definitely noticeable) hint of coquettishness.  HER custom-made, sheer, black, satin, opera-length gloves allowed HER to fully display HER masterfully manicured, perfectly polished, long, and lovely nails.  The glovemaker insisted it was not feasible to make gloves which did so.  He would not say so to HER again.  He would never, ever contradict or disagree with LADY KRYSTAL MESMER about anything again.  The piece de resistance, the greatest tool in HER chest, and the mightiest of all items in HER cunningly calculated and crafted arsenal of male mind melting weaponry was a monumental and stunningly gorgeous girasol, tanzanite, and emerald ring. This evening SHE would wear it as a pendant.  SHE knew well SHE was fully prepared to execute HER purpose.  SHE was definitely dressed to the nines plus four.  SHE tested the CD player before slipping it into HER purse.  It performed flawlessly.  The compact disc SHE had burned contained several audio clips designed to enhance CUM XUMBRAX’s effects on HER victim’s mind.  SHE was pleased with HER selections.  While driving to the first club on HER list, SHE reviewed the data on HER prey.  After his tension was relieved and forgotten, Jefferson had unwittingly provided HER an exact description and comprehensive personality profile of Brutus Quisling.  He considered himself to be an exceptionally fascinating ladies man.  He assumed few men, and no women, were in his league in the romantic arts.  He was also quite boastful concerning any of his overblown, meager accomplishments.  KRYSTAL foresaw no difficulty in attracting and successfully dealing with him.  SHE easily gained admittance to the club.  Rarely did SHE have any setbacks in such matters.  Men were almost always so amenable to accommodating HER requests.  Before entering, SHE had to select from amongst several eager males who nearly fought to valet park HER car.  SHE was escorted to and seated at the best table in the house.  Once there, SHE casually, yet thoroughly, surveyed the patrons.  HER eyes located HER quarry attempting to work the room.  SHE surreptitiously kept track of his movements while being amiably engaged in some fascinating conversations by several delightful persons.  After some time, a waiter hesitantly approached HER table.  “Excuse me, MISS, would YOU like to have something now?  There is a gentleman who wishes to buy YOU any drink of YOUR choice.”  “Who is this gentleman?  Where is he?”  The slightly agitated cocktail waiter leaned in closer to HER.  “LADY MESMER, please listen to me,” he whispered.  “It is irregular and most unprofessional for me to interfere with what our customers wish to do.  Nevertheless, I feel I must.  This man is not suitable for.  What I mean to say is he is worthless and most unworthy of YOU.”  “How do you know MY name and title?”  “I have been a happy and grateful member of YOUR En-Tranced club for some time.  The management would be furious if they knew what I was doing.  But this fellow is abhorrent, odious, and oafish regarding his treatment of the fairer sex.”  “Point him out, please.”  SHE saw him quickly gesture towards Brutus Quisling and shake his head slightly.  Only SHE saw his actions and knew there import.  SHE gazed directly into his eyes and reassuringly stroked his forearm.  “I understand.  I guarantee all will be well.  I hope you take MY meaning.”  “I believe I do,” he said.  He could almost feel the awareness and confidence radiating from HER intense, and when SHE chose enigmatic, emerald eyes.  His concern for HER was abated, his nervousness started to subside, and his slight smile held fragile traces of knowing.  KRYSTAL beckoned for him to sit next to HER.  They had a private and meaningful chat.  He then returned to his duties.  LADY MESMER smiled to HERSELF.  After he got home, this chivalrous, trusting, and potentially self-sacrificing man, would have an experience he would long remember.  He would, at least, recall certain portions of what would occur.  SHE accepted Brutus’s offer and ordered HER favorite drink.  He quickly followed its arrival and sat down across from HER.  “Hello, babe.  As YOU know, I am Brutus Quisling.”  “MY name is KRYSTAL.”  “Names are superfloss and unsignificant.  All that matters is how much I want YOU.  I know how YOU feel about me.  I saw YOU holding a long conversation about me with the drink jockey.  Are YOU enjoying my gift?”  “Yes, it is excellent.  Thank you for l’aperitif.”  He regarded HER quizzically.  “Uh, YOU’re welcome?”  “I find having a drink before dining to be very relaxing.  It somehow allows ME to unwind from MY busy, busy day and just be MYSELF.”  “Well, YOU know the old saying, “In vino varieties.””  “Yes, observing someone under the influence of spirits is one effective means of discerning what dwells in that person’s mind, heart, and soul.”  They talked for some minutes.  SHE only spoke now and then.  He asked HER few questions. He tried to impress HER in every way he could come up with.  SHE moved HER slender hands while they conversed.  His career prospects, his level of expertise in his avocations, his appreciation of feminine pulchritude, and the list (with explicit and excruciating descriptions) of his expensive toys were his preferred subjects of pointless pontification.  SHE drew him out on each topic with little effort.  The light frequently flickered from HER nails as they were calculatingly moved.  SHE noted his eyes often settled several inches below HER chin and once in a while on HER beautiful hands.  At length, he chose to make known his intentions.  “We’re both mature.  I’m a man.  YOU’re a great looking gal.  I’d like to get to know YOU better–in the Bibliothequeical sense.”  “Yes, you and I are legally adults.  I am very interested in you.  In fact, you are just the man I’ve been searching for.”  SHE beheld the gleam in his restless eyes.  He proudly and possessively placed his arm around HER as they departed.  His facial expression was victorious and lascivious.  When he saw HER car, his eyes nearly popped out of his head.  He presumptuously and pedagogically offered to slowly, carefully, and patiently instruct HER in the basic points of automotive maintenance.  Later, if SHE wished, he would be glad to tutor HER on the subject’s finer points.  He believed SHE considered him gallant.  He knew he was being helpful.  After all, SHE was a gorgeous woman and a blonde.  What could SHE know about cars, or machinery, or anything else?  There was one subject he assumed SHE knew well.  He hoped he would soon find out.  That idea filled his head(s) as he drove.  Once they reached his home, SHE parked behind his car.  He showed HER around his home.  He took every opportunity to point out his successes.  He proudly told HER, “I am very pleased with my socioeconomic status quid pro quo.”  KRYSTAL MESMER smiled while he talked.  When they returned to the living room, he pressed a button without even glancing at it.  The lights dimmed, music began to play, and the poorly refurbished faux marble fireplace started to glow.  They sat together on the loveseat.  He never took his eyes off HER.  He never beheld HER face’s expressions.  “To quote The Immoral Bard, “What’s in a name?”  I don’t remember YOU telling me YOUR last name.”  “It must be the blonde in ME.  MY familial name is MESMER.”  “I assume that’s the inebriated Americanized name of the manufacturer of German airplanes used in World War I?”  “You might say that.”  He gently placed one hand on HER thigh.  “I always like to relax myself before I engage in Lemuria toujours.  Hearing a good joke relaxes me.  Say, what did the blonde chemistry major ask about the dictionary?”  “Like, I duh know,” KRYSTAL answered.  “Why isn’t water spelled h-o-o?  Oh and that blonde in you must be very tiny.”  He laughed much at his two examples of cleverness.  SHE gazed directly into his eyes.  “A good source of amusement is a wonderful thing.  You are right about one thing.  Relaxation is essential before lovemaking and many other things.  In fact, there is something I enjoy doing very much.  Particularly, when I am in the company of a very unique sort of man such as yourself.  One’s palette must be thoroughly cleansed before one can fully enjoy the multitudinous, subtle, and sophisticated sensual pleasures of a fine wine, an excellent meal, or a wonderful cigar.  Likewise, one’s mind, heart, and soul must be awakened and prepared before true lovemaking can take place.  Yes, deep relaxation is the sorbet of the inner self.  I very much desire you to join ME in a little preparation before the inevitable onset of ultimate plea!sure!.”  SHE enunciated HER last word as though SHE was offering him an invaluably precious prize.  “What would YOU have me to do,” he inquired expectantly?  “I yearn for both of us to make ourselves as comfortable as we can, sit back, relax, and mutually focus all of our attention on some specific object.”  SHE closed HER eyes in pseudocontemplation, then slowly raised HER eyelids.  “Uummmrrrrrhhhhhhh,” SHE purred so softly and ever so seductively.  “I think MY perfectly polished, long, and lovely nails will serve MY purposes oh so very, very well.  Don’t you agree?”  He would have agreed to anything SHE said at that moment.  The anticipated expression of his libido was just that strong.  He quickly and wordlessly nodded his head(s).  SHE began to slowly move HER fingers back and forth within his field of vision.  “Now, we should just let our eyes come to rest upon MY beautiful nails.  See the fascinating contrast between the shimmering and sparkling color of MY nails and the dark mysterious color of MY long, lovely, satin gloves.  See how the light begins to soft!ly, and slow!ly and sum!ptuous!ly dance before your eyes.  Yes, and as we continue to devote more and more of our focus to MY wonderfully manicured and perfectly polished nails.  We find that your eyes are slowly and surely becoming more and more relaxed, more and more relaxed, and more and more soothingly heavy, and tired, and sleepy eyes.  Good, you are doing so very well.  I am so proud of you.”  Throughout the evening, KRYSTAL had reviewed HER perceptions of Quisling.  SHE acknowledged Jefferson’s assessment of the man who now lusted for HER had been far too generous.  The number and size of his personality and character flaws had been grossly understated by HER erudite, good, little boy.  Brutus must be dealt with.  He must be dealt with severely.  Brutus Iago Quisling must be dealt with now!  SHE knew what he wanted to see.  Though he had said nothing, he was a subtle as a collision of supernovas.  SHE would make him long regret his bestial desire to reduce HER to nothing but a collection of brainless and soulless body parts.  Slowly, so slowly, so very slowly, so meticulously and very slowly SHE moved HER hand toward the focal point of his eyes ever since he’d sat at HER table.  SHE could almost see the saliva vulgarly and disgustingly dribbling from the wretched and decrepit fangs within his minuscule and mortified mess of a mind.  Quickly SHE brought forth HER ring of power and thrust it into the room’s light.  SHE greatly appreciated and undetectably savored the ring’s disconcerting affect on this man.  Before he could react or utter a word, HER velvety voice began weaving its wicked webs and spinning its siren spells.  “Now, Brutus Quisling, center your gaze upon my wonderful, magnificent, magical, mystical, and mesmerizing ring.  See how effortlessly, easily, and peacefully the three gemstones draw in and captivatingly capture your heavy, tired, and oh so sleepy eyes.  In your mind’s eye see yourself falling slowly and comfortably into a soft, relaxing featherbed of soothing and sleepy comfort.  And as I count down from thirteen to one, with each number you will feel yourself going deeper and deeper into trance.  Thirteen, going deeper and deeper.  Twelve, you can not look away from MY perfectly polished nails or MY magical and mesmerizing ring.  Eleven, you hear on!ly! MYYYYYYYYYYYYY voice.  Ten, MY thoughts becoming your thoughts are MY thoughts.  MY entrancing emerald enervates your mind.  Nine, MY soft, silky, seductive, and soporific voice echoing in, then overcoming, and at last consuming your empty mind.  Eight, MY words are your words.  Seven, MY nails and MY ring are all you need to see.  Six, MY voice is all you want to hear.  MY tanzanite tantalizes your senses.  Five, feeling more and more wonderful as you descend deeper and deeper into deep hypnosis.  Four, for MY instructions are your instructions are MY instructions which you are asking of yourself.  Three, feeling more and more wonderful as you relax down more and more.  MY girasol garroting your resistance.  Two, for MY will is stronger than your will.  And now one, awaiting MY instructions and ready to perfectly obey MY commands.  For MY will is so much stronger than your menial, mendacious, meretricious, and soon to be eviscerated and emasculated (though the latter is in no wise difficult), male, chauvinist piggish will.”  While performing HER ring induction, SHE moved HER hand over HER breast.  Sometimes HER movements were circular, and sometimes they were linear.  Some of HER gestures were vertical, and others were horizontal.  At times SHE moved over one breast, at other times SHE moved around or across the other, and still at other times SHE moved the ring that ruled his rude, repugnant, rudimentary, and reptilian mind across or around both breasts.  He had gotten what he wanted.  In the end, blonde, harmless, little LADY KRYSTAL MESMER had him.  Brutus Quisling was thoroughly confused.  He did not know who was laughing.  He wondered where that laugh was coming from?  He wished he knew where he was.  He groggily realized he was in his bedroom.  He hoped he had gotten lucky with that gorgeous blonde.  What was HER name?  Again there was that laughter.  His hand quickly reached out for the bedside table lamp.  Why was he naked?  He remembered.  He could not recall what he remembered.  Who was this woman whose laughter mocked and menaced him from nowhere and yet everywhere?  Where was that music and that man’s voice coming from.  What had he said?  Where was that bitch who still contemptuously laughed him to scorn?  What did SHE find so amusing?  Again SHE laughed.  “So, you pompous, pugnacious, pathetic, pusillanimous, and puerile excuse for an overgrown and infantile little boy who presumes to call itself a man, I see you are conscious.  Or as conscious as something with such a severely limited mind can ever be.”  “YOU broad, YOU bitch, YOU vertigo! who are you?”  SHE clicked HER tongue derisively.  “Such language from someone who is so completely helpless against the awesome powers of MY oh so full and feminine forces.”  “Why can’t I see YOU?”  I have completely clouded your conspicuously contemptible mind.  You shall never behold the legendary loveliness of CUM XUMBRAX.”  “Where is that blonde?  Where is, uh…  uh KRYSTAL?”  “I have saved HER from your loathsome and lustful loins.  Now, you must deal with ME.  Oh no, no, no.  Now, I shall deal with you.”  HER laughter seemed to come from everywhere.  “When I get up, I am going to.”  “You can not move, unless I permit it.  Listen well, satyr.  For now, you can only move your left arm.  The harder you try to move your right arm or either of your legs, the more paralyzed that limb will become.  Try and get up if you can.”  What kind of witch’s trick was this?  It was as SHE foretold.  How had SHE done this?  He could push himself up to a sitting position with his nondominant hand.  He could do no more.  That damned laughter came once more.  He could almost feel HER confidence growing.  “If I could only see you.”  The ceiling light was turned on.  He did not know how.  He saw himself and everything else in his bedchamber.  All was as it should have been.  He could see no woman.  “Release me,” he demanded.  “Of course I will,” SHE fell silent for interminable moments, “not!”  That laugh, that accursed laugh echoed in his mind.  “Listen well, satyr.  Now none of your limbs will respond to your desires.  Try and resist MY powers, if you dare.”  No woman could do this to him.  No broad would ever tell him what to do.  He would show HER.  He did show HER.  He was absolutely immobile.  Well, not quite it seems.  At least his head could move.  “Why are you doing this to me?”  “You have mistreated many women.  Do not attempt to lie.  I am everywhere.  I am nowhere.  I am inside your mind–what little of it exists.  I am the voice of truth.  I am what your conscience should have been.  I am your judge.  I am your tormentor.  I know all things.  I am CUM XUMBRAX.”  SHE laughed and laughed and laughed.  “You don’t know me.  You know nothing about me.”  “Indeed, Brutus Iago Quisling.  You have attempted to deceive ME.  Now for your punishment.  What shall it be?”  There was silence for some time.  “Listen well, satyr.  When you hear ME laugh, you will become more and more aroused.  The more you hear MY laughter, the stronger and stronger your arousal shall become.  You will only be able to release this hot, terrifying, and unstoppable sexual pressure at MY command.  When you hear ME laugh, your wretched scalp will itch.  The more you hear MY laughter, the more your worthless scalp will itch.  You can not scratch this itch until I give you leave.  Listen well, satyr.  You can now move your arms and hands.  You can not use them to touch or relieve your itchy scalp or the tremendous arousal of your miniature and meaningless manhood.  Listen well satyr.  You must obey ME.  For MY will is stronger than your will.”  He heard that laugh.  The arousal commenced.  He wondered why SHE called him that word, satyr?  His scalp did start to itch.  More of HER evil laughter.  The itch was getting worse.  The arousal was stronger now.  Why did SHE continue to call him by that word?  He moved his hand(s) toward one or the other.  He could not touch either one.  More and more SHE laughed.  The two sensations were unbearable now.  Why did SHE mistakenly use that word for him?  He was not a Jewish man.  Not seeing his ACCUSER and TORMENTOR was unnerving.  Now he knew why he feared the darkness as a child.  That SHE exerted absolute control over his body was agonizing.  He always suspected those voodoo movies were based on fact.  He could move his arms.  It did him no good at all.  SHE was right again.  SHE was always right.  SHE was in complete control.  Did SHE know how he had interacted with women?  He did not dare to openly question HER knowledge or HER powers.  He could stand it no longer.  He screamed again and again.  He begged for mercy.  He promised HER anything SHE desired.  SHE just continued HER merciless, menacing laughter at his expense.  “What do YOU want,” he whimpered.  “We have much to discuss.  You, Brutus Iago Quisling, will have much to learn and even more to do.”  Jefferson Thomason was whistling as he strode through the door.  SHE had never known him to do that.  “Well, well someone is a happy camper today.”  “You are?  Please forgive me for not noticing,” he quipped.  “Will you tell ME the good news?”  “Mr. Quisling has undergone a marvelously miraculous and apparently meaningful metamorphosis.”  “Did I hear you say, Mr. Quisling?  You do not call this entity it?”  “To answer YOUR questions, yes I did and not often.  It is amazing to behold and absolutely wonderful for my cousin.”  “What are the changes in him?”  “He is being honest with and faithful to Liana.  He sent her a letter listing every instance of his infidelity.  The letter included: names of the other women; the locations of their rendez-vouses; the times when they were together; and all contact information for each female.  In her presence, he burned, shredded, or destroyed every memento from each of his previous affairs.  He is, at her insistence, undergoing intensive psychotherapy with a male psychiatrist.  He barely looks at any other woman, whether he is, or is not, with my cousin.”  “I imagine Miss O’Hara is quite pleased?”  “Exuberant, ecstatic, and overjoyed would be nearer the mark.”  “What brought on his salubrious transformation?”  “That’s the oddest thing of all.  No one knows.  He swears he did not write or send the letter.  He, however, could not deny the handwriting, in the letter and on the envelope, was his.  There was one morning when he woke up with the mother and grandmother of all hangovers.  He says he only remembers having a couple of cocktails the night before.  Now he is virtually a teetotaler.  Whatever the cause, all of us are much relieved and very, very thankful.”    “I suppose the Romans were right when they said, “in wine truth.””  “So it seems.”  “And the other women?”  “It seems Brutus Iago Quisling has at last gained some humility and developed a conscience in such matters.”  “I am quite pleased things have worked out for the better.”  “You and everyone concerned.”  “Oh, by the way Jefferson, have I shown you MY brand spanking new, harmless, little ? ….”  LADY KRYSTAL MESMER stretched out luxuriantly on the wonderful mattress atop HER exceptionally comfortable, queen-sized, canopied, four-posted bed with its richly decorated, hand carved, antique bedstead.  SHE reviewed the first instance of CUM XUMBRAX’s handiwork.  HER postmesmeric suggestions to Brutus Quisling had been obeyed to the letter.  One day, he might even be a barely acceptable male.  SHE seriously doubted he would ever be worthy of holding the designation of, “man.”  Things had gone far better than even SHE could ever have imagined.  HER newest hypnotic power exceedingly surpassed HER wildest dreams or fantasies.  HER scruples, determination, and inventiveness were the primary limiting factors to what SHE could now accomplish.  SHE smiled to HERSELF.  When it became necessary certain deserving (or more to the point undeserving) and reprobate individuals would come to learn (much to their incredulous shock, abject consternation, and everlasting horror) there was ONE HUMAN BEING, besides these reprehensible men and in rare cases those traitors to their sex known as inferior women, who assuredly and accurately knew what evil lurked in their hearts.  Their weeds of crime would bear bitter fruit.  As they had sown evil, so would they reap evil.  CUM XUMBRAX knows.  THE END.   Author’s closing note:  This story is purely and solely a work of fiction.  Or is it?  CUM XUMBRAX does not literally exist.  Or does SHE?  This account is my creation.  Or, for some reason, have I been made to believe so?  Who knows