DISCLAIMER:
NO PART(S) OF THIS WORK, NOR THE WORK IN ITS ENTIRETY, MAY BE: ALTERED; COPIED; EXCERPTED; REPRODUCED; STORED IN ANY TYPE OF INFORMATION STORAGE AND/OR RETRIEVAL SYSTEM; TRANSMITTED; OR USED IN ANY OTHER WAY(S) BY ANY MEANS SUCH AS DESKTOP PUBLISHING, ELECTRONIC, MECHANICAL, PHOTOCOPYING, RECORDING, OR ANY OTHER METHOD NOT EXPLICITLY STATED IN THIS DISCLAIMER WITHOUT THE EXPRESSED PERMISSION OF THE COPYRIGHT HOLDER.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:
This story is dedicated to the devastating, delightful, delicious, developed, delectable, devilish, dominating GODDESS MISTRESS MARQUESA DE SADE.  It should not be read by any minor.  It should not be read by anyone who is ethically, legally, morally, religiously, or personally {for any reason(s)} prohibited or proscribed from doing so.  It should not be read by anyone who is fearful of, or uncomfortable with, the subject of feminine influence/control/domination/superiority/supremacy/inspiration or the topic of mind control in any of its forms or both.

CHAPTER #2

When she finishes peeling away that dress, I see she’s now in a body-hugging outfit that gives me a peek at a little of her lovely skin here and there.  It was certainly worth the wait to look at her in that.  Then I see her clothes have writing on them.  To make out what she’s about I’ve got to take a closer look.  Like I needed another reason to set my sights and even more of my eyesight on this possibly Tahitian thriller.

On her clothes are words like “relax,” “rest,” “sleep,” “calm,” “tranquil,” and so on.  After my eyes roam up and down her front a couple of times, she slowly turns around.  When she stops turning, I see some words I don’t recognize.  I suppose they’re the same sort of words I saw before but in other languages.

I still don’t have a clue about what her gig actually is.  I scrunch up my face as I’m pondering what to do or say next.

She takes charge once again and answers my unspoken question.  “What your relaxing eyes keep resting on is what I pleasurably give to all obviously increasingly tiring folks like you who ask me.  Tranquility, restfulness, relaxation, calming down, sleepiness, and even more peacefulness.”

“You do all that in a place known for excitement and thrill rides?”

“Why certainly!  Yes, indeed.  I’m surprised to discover such a distinguished and drowsier gentleman all alone in an amusement park like this one.  Usually, the only men I find so ready and willing to relax with me are all family men,” she observes.

“Oh, I’m not alone.  My family is here, there, and everywhere today.”

“and how many children have you and your wife been blessed with?”

“I’m not married and I don’t have any kids.  I’ve got relatives visiting me for several weeks this summer.”

“You must be quite a generous man.  Having relatives around for such a long time sometimes makes your life far more hectic and ready for beddie bye than usual.”

“Not really.  True, I’m doing a lot more running around than usual.  But having my sister’s family here is one of the best things I’ve enjoyed in a while.”

“Congratulations!  And in the middle of all these exciting!! rides and animal attractions!! is the perfect opportunity for me to guide you into a peaceful respite from all the hustle and bustle your handsome face and drowsier eyes crystal clearly show and tell me you’ve been succumbing to so far so good.”

“And how do you guide somebody into restfulness in a place like this?” I ask.

“Actually, you have already completely accomplished most of what you’ve needed to do to relax yourself as much as you desire going deeper into tranquility.  I really like your openness and readiness”

I am baffled by her announcement.  “I have?  How?  When did I do all that?”

“Come with me and we’ll feel how much progress you’ve made.”

She gathers up her effective on me signage and wraps it in her temporarily laid aside dress.  With these stowed under one arm, she quickly moves beside me.  Before we go where she wants, she slowly strokes her free hand’s nails from my earlobe, down my neck, over my shoulder, and down my arm until she finally intertwines her long and slender fingers with mine.  No one’s complaining about this show of affection and I hope her attraction to me.

We meander through the park.  We skirt some of the longest lines I’ve seen since my camping out for several days to get those once in a lifetime concert tickets days.  I begin to wonder where she’s taking me as we get a close-up view of some of this place’s wildest and downright freakiest thrill rides in action.

As I’m following her guidance, we also chitchat.  She tells me bits and pieces about herself, her background, her life, her ambitions.  I do my best to pay strict attention to every word she says.  I also devote myself to asking her questions that’ll draw her out and get her to talk more about herself.  I also try to be careful as can be so I don’t come across as overly nosey or prying into her private business.  I do pipe in now and then about some detail about me and my doings.  There are times when she asks me a follow-up question or two.  Shooting the breeze this way with a woman who seems to be in to me and who looks this good is very pleasurable.

…

“What is your favorite color?”

I’ve never been that much of an artsy guy.  Brown is the first color that pops into my head, so I say that’s my favorite color.

…

“What kinds of things do you imagine whenever somebody says words like “hypnosis,” “mesmerize,” “trance,” “hypnotism” etc?”

I’ve always heard “You shouldn’t answer a question with another question.”  I’m gonna violate that so-called maxim today.  “Is that what you do?  Are you planning to hypnotize me?”

“Some people believe my guiding them into deepening consciousness quieting is as easily, hypnotically mesmerizing you as you wish it to become irresistibly effective.  What images repose in your mind as you calmly ponder your upcoming experience of becoming even more relaxed in what you may find more restful than being hypnotized?”

Memories of what I’ve seen or heard linked to hypnotism fill my thoughts.  “I guess to me, hypnosis is connected to what you see in all those old movies.  I think of hypnotism with someone swinging or spinning sparkly or shiny things like pendants, pocket watches, a glittering ring, and things like that.  I also think of candles or spirals and phrases like, “Look deeeeeeep into my eyes.”  I don’t know how correct any of that stuff is.  But that’s what hypnotizing conjures up for me.”

While and especially after I’m babbling all this mush out, I can’t shake that growing feeling that all I was doing is showing off how little I know about this sort of thing.  After I finished most likely being a complete ignoramus, I stared at her pretty face for the slightest hint from her of how much of an idiot suma cum laude she now thinks I am .

Surprisingly, there was no frown of disapproval, no hint of a contemptuous look in her large and luminous eyes.  [It is somewhat surprising that her eyes are this color.]  There wasn’t even a trace of a polite or forced smile on her sexy, scrumptious, juicy, ruby lips.  To me her body language didn’t give off any signals she would just as soon get rid of my sorry ass ASAP.  She used her thumbnail to draw circles on my palm.  Her touch stimulated many more of my nerves than the ones in my hand she didn’t stop holding.

“Conjures.  Ummmmmmm!!  Xsssssss-quisite!!!  It’s no wonder that you connect those mental pictures and props like the ones you mentioned to the deeeeeeep hypnosis-esque exquisiteness awaiting you.  Like you said, movies link your quieting mind to hypnotic trancing you and such sparkly, swinging, or shinier gadgets.  And I’ve read various types of literature that frequently associate the objects you listed to mesmerism.  I can employ anyone or more of these fascinations on you.  And I have very successfully used many of them before.  However, none of them is necessary to increase the depth of your ever-growing trance state of restful consciousness.”

“So what are you gonna do to hypnotize me?”

For the first time I heard her delightfully cheerful giggle.  “Now! now, that might spoil your surprise.”  Then she suddenly stopped, moved her head next to my shoulder, and breathily whispered in my ear, “We don’t want to lessen our upcoming pleasures, do we?”  While she was whispering, her body was turned slightly causing her deliciously voluptuous, firm breasts to lightly yet noticeably press deliciously into me.

“No.  I guess not,” I responded.

“We are elated your sense of personal adventure and desires to embrace exploration are almost as exquisite as you are.”

As we walked and talked, I felt myself becoming amazingly comfy with her.  I could also not avoid or deny or resist that sort of queasy, hosts of multitudes of overwhelmingly humongous swarms of butterflies in mating season in my stomach was turning head over heels feeling.  I haven’t really and truly experienced such a confusing and paradoxical infatuation since my crush in junior high school on the busty captain of the high school’s cheer leading squad who to this day probably swears she never knew I ever existed.  I´m still certain Morgana le Veau cast a whammy of a puppy love spell of a voodoo hex on me by wearing those outfits and doing all those back flips, kicks, tumbles, jumps, splits, and cartwheels.  It’s all so unnerving and sooooooo wonderful too.

I was so wrapped up in talking with her, watching her every movement, and getting to really liking feeling her hand in mine.  If she hadn’t brought my attention to it, I doubt I ever would have seen the tent she was leading me to all along.  It reminded me of the sort of place a Gypsy fortune teller might have had back in the wild western days.  The peculiar thing was, there was nothing gaudy, bright, or flashy about this tent.  All the colors I saw were soft and subdued.  Surrounded by some pictures of spiral staircases was a small, handwritten sign on the tent’s entrance.  The name on the sign read:

Mademoiselle TRANQUILLANGUOROUS

After following her inside, my eyes needed a few moments to get used to the several dim lights softly illuminating this inner sanctum.  I saw a couch, a recliner, and a chair that appeared to be a shorter version of a bar stool.  She gestured towards the recliner and the couch.

“Make yourself more comfortable on the one you desire most.”

My lustful nature interpreted her perfectly innocent request in some of the most erotically kinky ways I couldn’t stop my lascivious nature from coming up with.  (Maybe I would have detoured myself from that safari into horniness-land, if I’d wanted to.)  After I lay down on the couch, she scooted the bar stool near by it.

“I’ll come to you in a few moments while you’re becoming more accustomed to your arresting restfulness growing steadily drowsier.”

“Yes, Mademoiselle Tranquillanguorous,” I said lazily.

* * * * * * *

When she glided back in, she was wearing a brown outfit.  As she slithered closer, I noticed it had the same words on its front as her other costume.  I wanted to kick myself for only coming up with such a common color like brown.  Smooth move dorkus Maximus.  If I’d mentioned some color a bit more exotic, who knows what she’d have been wearing right now?  Part of me really wanted to know.

After she sits on her stool, she swivels it a little so she’s still facing me yet she’s slightly angled away from me too.  The next thing I enjoy her doing is slowly stretching out and sensually massaging each of her firm, shapely legs.  While she’s manually stimulating herself and definitely arousing me, she makes this kind of totally contented purring sound.  Visions of each of the really foxy actresses who’s ever brought fetching, feminine, with just the right touch of ferociousness Cat woman to life on TV or in the movies flashed through my memories and desires.  Her intense yet still relaxing in pleasuring herself look I focused on made me feel like eagerly volunteering to repeatedly be the canary this long-bodied, leggy tigress of a could definitely be the Bailey’s Irish Cream de la crème of sex kittens in any era could swallow any time she wanted me.  I wondered if she realized she was the deserving of worshipful adoration cat goddess whose charms I was swallowing hook, line, sinker, pole, and all?

Before I can even start to think up what I’ll say next, she takes our interactions in hand.

“Shalohammersion!  Shalohammersion!  Shalom, a word for peace.  Aloha, means hello, farewell, and other things.  Immersion going as deeper into what is desirable as you wish to rest.  Immersion in shalom and the aloha spiritualities is why you are resting with me.”

Hmmmmmmm!  She calls what she’s doing “shalohammersion”.  Aloha and shalom merged into one.  That might also explain why she looks like a Pacific Islander with a captivating touch of some other ethnicity and culture wonderfully mixed in.

As I’m wrapping some of my thoughts around this revelation and perhaps its implications, I’m still following where her magnificent voice is leading me.

“Shalohammersion is my gift to you.  Shalohammersion is why I can clearly see you are already well on your way to as much dreamier sleepiness as you desire.  Shalohammersion gently lulls the two of us into experiencing relaxing wonders resting peacefully in our mind is being soothingly fulfilled with tranquilities.  …”

I’m doing my best to stay focusing on her pretty face.  Right now I can’t let my sex drive carry my eyes down where, if Mademoiselle Tranquillanguorous had any idea what I was lusting for, I’d sure as hell is hot and eternity is endlessly everlasting most likely get myself dropped head first into the deepest, steamiest dukey pile.

As I’m watching her, she stops talking for a moment and I see her stifle what sure looks to me like a hint of a yawn.  Now that I see she’s really getting into this relaxation stuff, I start really noticing that I’m feeling sort of comfy at the moment.  I’d never have believed I’d get so relaxed so quickly with someone I’ve just met.  If what she calls “shalohammersion” is better than this, I sure hope we can find a way to bottle and get this out in the public square double quickly ASAP.  Hey! there are some way expensive toys this overgrown kid wants to play with.  And while I’m spending the lucre we’ll be raking in hands over fists, there are some charities I want to do more for.

“Oh! excuse me” she says after another little stretch I like watching her do.  “Usually, I don’t let go like this as I’m paying attention to how much you’re certainly looking relaxed and peaceful.  It’s truly amazing to see how expert you are at this.  I’m really impressed that your excursions into shalohammersion continue quieting down your mind is amazingly powerfully centering your focusing your attention on my voice and my words.  It certainly looks like you possess a natural affinity for the soothing tranquility resting inside your deeper and deepening naturally relaxing state of shalohammersion.  By the way, I was wondering, will you help me find out how far into shalohammersion I can truly rest?”

Even though I can’t see myself, I feel myself blushing like some teenaged schoolboy just getting his feet wet in pubescence who’s just been complimented, flattered by, and asked to privately help the oh my! my! how sexy is she teacher he hopes no one will ever learn he’s having those special dreams about her.

“How can I do for … Uh, I mean, what can I help do you …”  Why is my throat so dry?  “Ah … uh … What I meant to ask you is what can I do to help you?”  How come my palms are sweating like the proverbial pig?

This super-witch of a Wonder Woman or her shalohammersion or something or other is really tongue-tying me in Gordian Knots or turning me head over heels or my brain into silly putty or my heart into mushiness or most likely all of them.

“Oh! it’s as easy as falling into drowsiness after a long day is tiring your eyelids are looking almost as heavier than mine apparently are.  The easy, little thing you’ll do is keep your eyes resting on my fingernails as I’m drawing.  The patterns are really relaxing me even more and more frequently while watching my fingernails slowly, soothingly, sleepily move.”

She starts moving her sparkly nails all over the palm of her other hand.  I watch her gliding those nails over each line or bump or other thing she sees in her hand.  Sometimes she slides those really pretty nails back and forth a few times in a row over the same mark.  There are times when it appears her nails are moving a bit quicker than she’s been moving them.

Tracking her drawing those pictures in her hand is really making my eyelids feeling really like they weigh as much as manhole covers.  As she’s drawing these pics, I’m trying to do the whole “connect the dots” and “tell me what you see in this inkblot” kind of a deal.  Sometimes I see the images she’s drawing crystal clearly.  Than there’s most of the times when it’s kind of fuzzy or I’m not quite certain what she’s trying to draw.  More than once or twice, I catch myself yawning or I have that you know when you all of a suddenly jerk yourself awake because you felt yourself on the edge of going over into nodding off and you’re not alone.  This watching her make pictures in her hand is really getting to me.

As she keeps drawing, she’s also talking to me.

“Over the centuries, hypnotism has been quietly linked to all sorts of mystical things.  …  It is  like shalohammersion continues relaxingly calming you ever more and more frequently.  …  Some entrancing people who dazzled in hypnosis have also augured and delved into folks inner worlds with phrenology and magical arts and sciences like palmistry.  Palmistry, looking into someone’s hand to see into their inner self and maybe their future.  …  The palm of the hand with which we grasp and touch and feel and caress.  As each person’s fingerprints are different for their entrancing shalohammersion, so too the palms of our hands are unique gateways into our selves gently floating into deeper and deepening relaxations.”

And so she continued stroking her palm and stroking my relaxing mind with her voice’s caressing words.  Watching her softly glistening fingernails move, listening to her words, trying to make sense of all I’m hearing and seeing in my drowsier brain.  Everything was getting to me and getting me feeling like I’ve never felt before.  I don’t know if I’ve ever had one of those near death or out of body experiences, but I feel that right now I could let myself just float away into whatever’s out there in the spirit world or cosmos or wherever this out of this world feeling she’s drawing me into is taking over me.

Out of the blue, Mademoiselle Tranquillanguorous asks me to give her one of her hands.  I’m feeling sooooooo good and woo! woo! woozier!!!  It takes me several halting attempts and surprisingly a lot of effort for me to raise my arm that’s closest to her.  After I finally get the motion started, she gently yet firmly takes hold of my hand.

In the tiny part of my mind that sort of functions outside of following whatever she does or says, her request conjures up images of mysterious fortune tellers saying things like “Cross my palm with silver.”  But she doesn’t tell me anything like that.  Instead, she gently turns my hand palm down and slowly starts sliding my hand along each of her legs.  Sometimes, she slides my hand along one leg over and over.  Other times, she moves it from one to the other and back to the first one.  Once or twice she puts my hand on her thigh and crosses that leg over the other one.  There are times when whichever leg she slides my hand up or down or both is bent at the knee.  Other times, the leg my grateful fingertips are admiring is stretched out completely.  Some times she glides my hand nearly down to that leg’s ankle.  Maybe I fantasized it, but I recall her a couple of times moving my hand along her dress and bringing it almost to her private place where I’d love to spend the rest of my life doing whatever she wanted that would unleash her maximum pleasuring like mine was.  While she’s driving me even wilder than before, she’s humming some tune [or is it tunes] I don’t recall ever hearing before.  From time to time she moans softly or makes that guttural, practically savage purring sound dripping with sizzling and steamy sensualities that’ll be in my dreams about her for who knows how many future incarnations.  And there was the time of my life I was sure my balls would explode when she first used my fingers to caress one of her legs and then she ground that hand into that leg by pressing the other leg against it and rubbing them together.  I’ve never been somebody who bought into any of that life after life after life beliefs.  But there’s something about all this {or maybe its all thanks to Mademoiselle Tranquillanguorous’s effectiveness of her shalohammersion upon me} that convinces me there’s more to life, the universe, and everything than what I’ve automatically accepted in my 42 years of paint by the numbers and stay inside the lines of conventionality logic like Mr. Spock.

That smooth, clinging material fortunate enough to be the dress she’s wearing and those stockings that will be stalking through my hopefully lucid wet dreams.  Everything about what these fabrics feel like is being indelibly inscribed irresistibly and everlastingly into my memories and desires and future plans come to fruition encompassing their owner–if I’m lucky.

Now Mademoiselle Tranquillanguorous flips my hand palm upward and starts slowly drawing all kinds of pictures or patterns or symbols on it.  With my skin as her canvas, her soft, smooth, firm fingertips or her sharp, glittery nails are her brushes.  My mindlessness is her medium for mesmerizing me even more so.

As my eyes and my mind once more attempted to track and make sense of where her fingers took me, she told me I don’t exactly recall how many things slipped my mind or she slipped in my mind.

“Kahuna Kabala.  Kabala and kahuna.  A kahuna’s Kabala combines consciousness with a Kabalistic kahuna.  Kahuna soothingly and sleepily meditating on a restful, peaceful, tranquillizing tropical island paradise.  A tropical island sandwiched between the deep blue seas and the clear blue skies.  A tropical island wonderland with an exquisitely magnificent coral reef protecting and beautifying a lovely lagoon.  An island full of nature’s bounty of delicious tropical foods.  Shalohammersion is like your island paradise of lush and beautiful flowers and wonderful plants.  The Sandwich Islands mesmerising up out of the warm Pacific’s pacifying waters.  Some plants possess mystical powers and potent mysteries.  Such plants grow in the jungles and rain forests on tropical islands where kahuna’s lead and guide their people’s and all seekers of good will in staying in touch with nature and her soothing majesties and magical mysteries and wonderful ways enchanting you ever more so.  Hypnotically beautiful Hawaii restfully sparkling like nature’s largest and most perfect diamond filling our drowsier heads and gently soothed and rest-filled minds with sensually, soporific pleasures.

“…

“Kabala, composed as a spiritual oasis bringing mystical meanings to life lived in a desert thirsting for refreshing restfulness.  Shalohammersion is your picture in your softly soothed mind your ideal and idyllic oasis of tranquility whenever you desire its soothing powers.  An oasis of pools of crystal clear, sparkling, and refreshing waters of life energized by shalohammersion.  An oasis of green grass and beautiful flowers, trees and songbirds singing melodies calming your very essence and soul.  An oasis of beautiful, long-legged birds wading peacefully in pools of delights and delicacies and refreshments for your body and mind, soul and spirit are all refreshed and revitalized by shalohammersion.  Kabala, written to unveil to the calm and tranquility seeker the spirit-stirring restfulness and repose and relaxation you crave.  Kabala like deeper and deepening pools of dreamier pacification soothing the body and stimulating your soul relaxes in lazily languorous sleepiness.

“…

“Kahuna and Kabala, Kabala and kahuna.  Two entrancingly soothing spiritual paths to peacefulness and restfulness and quietness and tranquility.  Two cultures, two minds, the two of us resting dreamily in the lucid dreamer’s dreaming of dreaminess.

“…

“Shalom is peace and aloha has many meanings.  Shalohammersion like shalom is peace to heart and mind, body and soul, spirit and flesh.  And as aloha, shalohammersion gives many a gift.  For inspiring soothing rest and peace of mind and tranquility and relaxation, touch either of your palms with your other hand’s fingers and think of shalohammersion.  When you wish to activate and enhance the restfulness and quietness and peacefulness you seek, then think of shalohammersion and touch one of your palms with any of the fingers on your other hand.

“…

“As you remember aloha has more than one meaning.  Likewise you will always remember shalohammersion has many more than one power.  Shalohammersion arouses your tranquility and pacifying and peacefulness.  And shalohammersion also equally effectively arouses your stimulations and energizing and revitalization and rejuvenations.  When a boost of energies is what you desire, remember shalohammersion and touch the palm of either one or both of your hands with the same hands fingers.  Rejuvenation, energizing, revitalizations are what you wish, then remember shalohammersion and touch your right hand’s palm with your right hand’s fingers or place your left hand’s fingers upon the palm of your left hand or put the fingers on each of your hands upon that hands palm.

“…

The next thing I fully remember [at least I feel I’m clearly recalling everything] when I finally get my eyes to open up I’m staring right into Mademoiselle Tranquillanguorous’s huge, penetrating eyes.  She has this peaceful, serene smile.

“Thank you for your invaluable assistance.  And how do you feel?”

“I don’t know what you’re thanking me for, but I’m happy I could help you.  I can’t really put into words how good I feel.  Before this, I never would’ve imagined hypnosis or shalohammersion or anything legal could feel so out of this world good.  Whatever you did feels absolutely extraordinary.  Is there any way for me to get this feeling again?”

“For deeper and deepening your deepest relaxations, think of shalohammersion!!!“`”  As she’s saying “shalohammersion” she touches one of her palms with her other hand’s fingertips.

“And for increasing energy, I remember shalohammersion and do this.”  While I’m saying these words I close each of my hands fingers into its palm several times.

“Now why did I do that?” I ask her.

“Because you know what will help you, you are quite imaginative, and you possess a powerful memory.”

I offer to pay Mademoiselle Tranquillanguorous for how much she’s helped me out.  She won’t take any money from me.  I ask is there anything I can do for her?  She says I’ve helped her immensely and that we may meet again.  Long after my body’s left her tent, I’ve got this very pleasurable feeling she’s gonna be right about this too.

After getting home from the amusement park I go through all my pockets as I’m changing my clothes.  I come across a very pretty business card I don’t recall putting in my pocket.  It takes me a few seconds to realize whose card this has to be.  My memories turn to every thing I can hold on to about her.  She’s definitely a woman full of wonderful surprises.  And another thing, her hypnosis or shalohammersion or whatever she did must be more effective than I thought it was at first.  I seem to recall that while she was sitting on her stool and spelling me, sometimes her voice seemed to come from much higher in the air than it did at other times.

* * * * * * *

Buying this luxury condo was one of the most pleasurable investments she’d ever made.  After putting away some of the captivating tools of her exquisitely profitable trade, the Junoesque, multi-ethnic, lovely mastermind stretched out in and activated her most favorite program in her massaging recliner’s stimulatingly soothing repertoire.  After about a half hour’s worth of dreamily sipping her favorite cocktail, smoking one of her finest cigars, and dozing off a wee mite now and then–she picked up and booted up her laptop.  The first file she looked at was a map of the United States and Canada that showed every major amusement or theme park in either of these countries.  She scrolled to the location of the park whose right guests for her purposes she was currently becharming and put a check mark by it.  Then she looked at a few parks she hadn’t yet visited.  She would travel to some of them and work her wiles simply because of how mutually pleasurable it was when she did so.  She put dollar signs by some of the other venues where upscale people were more likely to congregate.

Next, she brought up one of her phone books and looked for the man she wanted.  After finding him, she turned on her cell phone, spoke his name, and listened for the call to connect.

When she heard his voice, her only response was saying:

“Remember Mistress Shalohammersion!”

His contented sigh was more than enough evidence of how completely he was thoroughly entranced by Her ensorcelling.  After a few moments he asked,

“Mistress Shalohammersion, how may i please You?”

“And how and what is My favorite financial analyst doing?”

“Better than ever, Mistress Shalohammersion.  Thanks to what You’ve done for me and my employees, my firm is doing splendidly.  We may even go public in a couple of months.  i still hear people raving about the shalohammersion sessions You did for us.”

“I’m pleased.  And I have a little question.  Give Me your expert opinion on Blossoming Enterprises Unlimited?  I want to know about its management team, its financial footing, its prospects, everything you can tell Me without violating any confidences, laws, or regulations of course.  In short, I want to know if you consider them a company for Me to invest Myself in?”

“Well, Mistress Shalohammersion, in my view …”
THE END.