\u201cTell me what brought you here,\u201d Goddess Marquesa said. I shuffled nervously in my seat and took a sip of the drink she had poured for me, my throat suddenly dry.
\n\u201cI want\u2026I yearn to experience genuine slavery,\u201d I answered.
\nShe smiled, her green eyes flashing a mixture of amusement and understanding. \u201cYes, I can sense that,\u201d she replied. \u201cBut why me? We have never met, never spoken. This seems rather impulsive. I am very flattered, of course, but this is a serious step to take on a whim\u2026\u201d
\n\u201cIt\u2019s not a whim,\u201d I interrupted brusquely, then immediately softened my tone in contrition. \u201cI\u2019ve been submissive all my life, but never indulged in anything but fantasy. It was in that spirit that I went to the website where I first saw you. From the beginning you thrilled me like no one I had ever encountered before.\u201d
\n\u201cWhy?\u201d she asked.
\nI shuffled uncomfortably again. \u201cI confess\u2026I don\u2019t entirely know. Your voice\u2026your face\u2026your body\u2026your personality. All together there is something bewitching about you. Surely I\u2019m not the only man who has felt it\u2026.\u201d
\nShe laughed, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. \u201cNo,\u201d she said, pursing her lips coyly. \u201cNo certainly not.\u201d
\n\u201cI have interacted with Mistresses in the past,\u201d I continued, \u201cand the feelings were very pleasant, sometimes very powerful. But the relationships never lasted. I don\u2019t know why. I sense that you can change that, that you have the power to bind me so that I can\u2019t escape. I feel passionately that I was meant to be owned by one woman, I just need to find one able to subjugate me. I believe that with your hypnotic power, you could be the one to do so.\u201d
\nShe smiled enigmatically when I had finished. \u201cI think you have the wrong idea,\u201d she said. \u201cJust because we are both blonds, don\u2019t confuse me with Glinda the Good Witch. Hypnosis is not magic. I can\u2019t turn you into something you are not. And genuine slavery might prove something very different that what you imagine. You should be careful what you wish for.\u201d
\n\u201cI am prepared for whatever happens,\u201d I declared boldly. \u201cIf I do not at least attempt to experience this, I will always wonder. Please\u2026please try\u2026\u201d
\n\u201cYou are sure this is what you want?\u201d she asked with a tone of finality. \u201cI don\u2019t contemplate taking a man\u2019s freedom lightly.\u201d
\nI swallowed nervously. \u201cYes,\u201d I replied, \u201cWhen can we begin?\u201d
\n\u201cWe can begin right now.\u201d
\nShe reached out and took my hand, drawing it into her lap and placing it palm-up upon the sheer black stocking clinging to her thigh. \u201cJust relax,\u201d she said, cradling my hand with her left arm as the nail of her right index finger slowly traced the lines of my palm.
\nWe talked. She asked questions about my life and told me about hers, all the while maintaining the gentle contact with my hand. My mind was split, half of it engaged with her words, half of it lost in the feeling of my hand resting against her gorgeous thigh, the exquisite thrill of her elegantly shaped finger tickling the sensitive nerves of my palm. We were so close that her perfume clouded my head. The warm moist air of her breath caressed my face, its delectable aroma filled my lungs. My eyes traveled lovingly over her lips, throat, and breasts, never for an instant leaving the curves of her body or the mesmerizing pools of her green eyes. Every nerve in my body was electrified, every cell seemed ablaze with desire. I had never felt so alive or so aroused.
\nAfter a while (I am not sure how long- thirty minutes? An hour?) my arousal morphed into a kind of euphoria. I was hearing the Goddess\u2019s words without really comprehending them, they registered in my mind as feelings rather than ideas. At some point my eyes closed and I entered a deep hypnotic sleep.
\n\u201cOne\u2026two\u2026three!\u201d Her voice summoned me back to full consciousness. \u201cThat first session went very well,\u201d she declared.\u00a0 Though I could not remember what had transpired, I was full of a warm sense of well-being. \u201cWe will do this once a week from now on.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd this will make me your slave?\u201d I asked.
\n\u201cWe will see\u2026\u201d she answered inscrutably. \u201cYou will have to trust me\u2026\u201d
\nI did trust her, and our sessions continued for several months. It was no hardship. Each meeting was like a dream within a dream. I would enter a haze of lust and longing, savoring her closeness and the feeling of her touch, then slip into a warm fog of total relaxation, emerging refreshed and rejuvenated when she summoned me back from trance. She placed no demands or restrictions on me, so I was free to fantasize about her constantly when we were apart. I spent hours on my knees in front of her image, stroking myself to earth shattering climax, but could never slake my desire.
\nStill, however, I remained unsatisfied and grew impatient. I had been thoroughly seduced, but saw no sign that I had been enslaved. My passion for Goddess Marquesa was amazingly intense, but the difference from what I had experienced in the past was one of degree, not kind.
\n\u201cPlease,\u201d I finally asked at the end of another session, \u201cyou have been conditioning me for so long. When will you finally show me what it is to be your slave?\u201d
\nGoddess Marquesa smiled, as if she had been waiting for this moment. \u201cAll right,\u201d she answered, her tone indicating a willingness to be reasonable, \u201cwe can move on to the next phase. Go home and await my orders. We will see if my conditioning has had its proper effect.\u201d
\nI left feeling more excited than I had been since childhood. It was like the anticipation before coming down to the tree on Christmas morning. In my mind I imagined that she would call the next day with a command, and that upon hearing it I would spontaneously obey, like a robot being programmed by its designer or a zombie bound by the will of its master.
\nInstead I encountered silence. Weeks went by with no word from her. I missed our weekly sessions, and in their absence my lust for her increased. I masturbated until my cock became red and sore, but still felt unresolved yearning for her voice, her touch.
\nFinally, on April 14, a package arrived in the morning mail at the accounting firm where I work. It was from her, and contained tax documents for her and ten of her friends. A short note read: Call me for your instructions, slave ~GM. Seeing the word \u201cslave\u201d set my pulse racing. I immediately dialed the phone.
\n\u201cHello?\u201d
\n\u201cHello, Goddess.\u201d
\n\u201cWho is this?\u201d
\n\u201cIt is your slave, Goddess,\u201d I said, crestfallen at not being recognized. \u201cWhat are your instructions?\u201d
\n\u201cIt\u2019s obvious, isn\u2019t it?\u201d she asked. \u201cFile returns for my friends and I by the deadline.\u201d
\n\u201cBut the deadline is tomorrow,\u201d I protested.
\n\u201cThen you had better hurry.\u201d
\nI was disappointed. Not by the onerous task, but by the feeling (or lack thereof) that it inspired. I had thought that once she gave me a direct order I would feel compelled to obey, but already my first impulse had been to complain.
\nShe sensed my hesitation on the other end of the line. \u201cIf you obey, there will be a reward,\u201d she offered.
\nThis excited me. I was still too far gone in lust for her to spurn such a chance. \u201cWhat reward?\u201d I asked.
\n\u201cWhatever you choose,\u201d she declared.
\n\u201cA kiss,\u201d I blurted. \u201cI need to taste your lips\u2026\u201d
\n\u201cVery well\u2026a kiss. Get to work, slave.\u201d
\nApril 14 is always the hardest night of the year, and she had made it twice as hard. But the idea that I might taste her kiss gave me strength that I had never possessed. By midnight the next day I collapsed from exhaustion, but I smiled as darkness took me, anticipating the feeling of my mouth pressed to hers.
\nShe did not call the next day, or the next. I went to her house, but it was dark and no one answered the bell. Days passed, then weeks. Frustration gave way to resentment, and resentment to despair.
\nFinally, in mid May, I called her number for the thousandth time, expecting nothing but incapable of resisting the urge. To my disbelief, she answered.
\n\u201cHello?\u201d The sound of her voice set my heart racing.
\n\u201cGoddess Marquesa?\u201d I asked, unable to hide the frustration in my tone, \u201cwhere have you been?\u201d
\n\u201cWho is this?\u201d The question expressed irritation.
\n\u201cIt is your slave\u2026.I filed the returns on time.\u201d
\n\u201cOh\u2026..yes, that\u2019s good,\u201d she said nonchalantly.
\nI paused, my mouth slightly open in disbelief. \u201cWhat of my reward?\u201d I asked.
\n\u201cWhat reward?\u201d
\nAnother pause, this one longer. \u201cYou said if I did the task I could choose my reward.\u201d
\n\u201cDid I?\u201d She sounded incredulous. \u201cWell, if I did, I forgot.\u201d I waited for her to continue, but there was no further explanation.
\n\u201cI\u2026I\u2026\u201d my throat had tightened, my voice became constrained and halting. Finally I gave up and fell silent.
\n\u201cIs there anything else?\u201d she asked.
\nI held the phone to my ear and tried to force myself to breathe. I stuttered, \u201cNo\u2026yes\u2026I mean\u2026\u201d Composing myself, I finally found the voice to say, \u201cThank you, Goddess.\u201d As the words left my mouth I was shocked. My surprise was not only at what I had said, but that I genuinely meant it. I was seized by a pang of utter and heartfelt gratitude.
\n\u201cYou\u2019re welcome, pet,\u201d she replied, and the line went dead.
\nWhat followed were the most torturous weeks my life. I lived in exile, with no word from or contact with Goddess Marquesa. Despite this absence, my yearning for her reached a maddening crescendo. No amount of onanism could exorcise the demons of my desire. At the same time, my existential despair was total. My quest to experience genuine slavery seemed hopeless.
\nOne Monday night in mid-June, my phone rang. I looked up at my bedside clock: it read 3:30 AM. I picked up the receiver. \u201cCome to me now,\u201d her voice commanded. Though I was pleased, I could not help being disenchanted. I did not feel an uncontrollable compulsion to obey. My joy at finally hearing her voice was matched by my desire to get enough sleep for work the next day.
\n\u201cIt\u2019s late,\u201d I answered.
\n\u201cCome,\u201d she repeated. \u201cIf you obey you will be rewarded. You wanted a kiss, yes?\u201d
\nI stumbled out of bed and dressed quickly. I arrived at her door at 4 AM. She let me in wearing a black negligee and little else, her arms and legs bare. Her house had just hosted a raucous party. The guests were gone, but spilled beverages, waste paper, and ashes were strewn everywhere. Stains smeared the walls, floors, and counter top.
\n\u201cGet to work, slave,\u201d she ordered. \u201cCleaning equipment is in the hall closet. You can fill as many garbage bags as you need, but make sure that the dustbin is still full when you are done. Otherwise you may do as you please- just make the place spotless.\u201d
\nShe withdrew to her bedroom and I began cleaning. The work was excruciating. Stains clung stubbornly to tile and chrome, forcing me to bear down with all my strength and weight. Narrow spaces required crouching, bending, and crawling on all fours. As eight o\u2019clock rolled around the house looked presentable, but I was in agony. All of my muscles ached, my eyes were red and tear-streaked and my lungs burned from caustic chemicals. My hair and clothes were soaked with sweat, and my hands were covered with painful blisters.
\nShe walked out of her bedroom, yawning and stretching sleepily but still utterly gorgeous to behold. \u201cNot bad, slave,\u201d she allowed, surveying the scene of my labor. \u201cYou have earned a reward.\u201d
\nI began to rise from where I was still crouched on the floor, but she stopped me with an angry command. \u201cStay on your knees!\u201d
\n\u201cBut\u2026you said\u2026you promised me a kiss,\u201d I protested.
\n\u201cDid I?\u201d she asked. \u201cForget that. I have my own reward for you. Put the dustpan here,\u201d she said, pointing to the floor before her feet.
\nI did as she directed.\u00a0 She lifted her beautiful foot and placed it into the dirt and cigarette ash collected in the dustpan. Seating herself in a chair, she held out her filthy sole before my face.
\n\u201cLick me clean slave.\u201d
\nI knelt before her, brows furrowed, mind reeling. The smell from her foot made me gag. I had thought that this moment would be different, that her conditioning would overcome any reflex I had to resist. But I felt no eagerness to obey, only disgust.
\n\u201cDo it,\u201d she commanded.
\n\u201cBut I don\u2019t want to,\u201d I complained.
\nShe understood what I meant. \u201cI warned you,\u201d she said coldly. \u201cYou\u2019re not in Kansas anymore. Do it now or leave this house and never call me again.\u201d
\nFighting my revulsion, I began. The taste was awful, the texture even worse. Several times I had to stop and compose myself to keep from vomiting. Working slowly, it took me a full thirty minutes to restore her foot to its pristine beauty. After what seemed like eternity, she commanded, \u201cThat\u2019s enough, slave.\u201d
\nIt was just in time. I sprang to my feet and ran to the bathroom. For the next fifteen minutes I knelt by the bowl, retching in great, heaving geysers.
\nAs my convulsions calmed I sensed her beside me. I don\u2019t know how long she had stood over me as I puked.
\n\u201cIs there something you want to say to me, slave?\u201d she asked, as if this was the most natural question in the world.
\nUntil that moment I had been completely lost in my own misery, but as soon as she spoke, it occurred to me that there was something I yearned to say. Part of me could not believe it was so, but the impulse was too strong to resist. The words bubbled out of me as spontaneously as what had spewed forth scant moments before.
\n\u201cThank you, Goddess!\u201d I said. \u201cThank you.\u201d This unleashed a flood of emotion. I began to sob, puke and drool spilling from the corner of my mouth as snot and tears ran down my face. Once again, what was most shocking was not what I said, but what I felt. I had detested what she made me do, but I could not help but feel grateful to her for making me do it.
\n\u201cThink nothing of it, pet,\u201d she said wryly. \u201cDon\u2019t forget to flush before you leave.\u201d
\nI don\u2019t remember clearly how I got home that morning. I skipped work without calling in sick and slept for 36 hours straight. On waking in the early afternoon I was physically revived but mentally disoriented. I paced in front of the phone, expecting her to call at any minute, debating with myself whether to call her. When I finally did break down and call I got a busy signal. Knowing that I would never get through did not stop me from calling another dozen times that night.
\nDays and weeks went by and my mood grew ever darker. At the best of times I was distracted and socially detached. On worse days I became surly and quick-tempered. . Coworkers began to give me a wide berth at the office. I saw the change but couldn\u2019t care, my thoughts constantly of her, oscillating between yearning and resentment.
\nFinally I snapped. Late one July evening I made my way to her house. When she did not answer the door I threw myself against it madly, trying to force my way through. I had just picked up a rock with which to smash her window when the door opened and revealed her silhouette.
\n\u201cI\u2019ve been expecting you, pet. Come in.\u201d She wore the same black negligee as the last night I had seen her, but this time it was over a silk bustier with matching stockings and garters. On her feet were bright red patent-leather stilettos. The sight of her stopped me in mid-rage. I dropped the rock and stumbled dazedly through her front door.
\n\u201cYou tricked me,\u201d I accused as she shut the door behind me. \u201cYou said you would make me your slave, but you just planted a suggestion in my mind. You made it so that I can\u2019t feel anything but gratitude for anything you do to me. That isn\u2019t slavery. That is a cheap parlor trick.\u201d
\nShe laughed a deep sonorous laugh that deflated all my self-righteous anger. \u201cYou are so clueless it is rather sweet, pet,\u201d she purred. \u201cYou simply don\u2019t understand. But I can help you, I prepared for this moment.\u201d
\nI made to protest, but she held up a hand to stop me. \u201cClick your heels three times together and say, \u2018There is no woman like Goddess Marquesa,\u2019\u201d she commanded.
\nI stood open-mouthed, nonplussed by this bizarre order. \u201cDo it,\u201d she reiterated.
\nI gazed at her as I carried out her instruction, clicking my heel three times while repeating the incantation. On the third recitation, a flood of images hit me like a thunderbolt. I remembered every detail of every session I had had with Goddess Marquesa. She had not conditioned me at all. She had led me through a series of relaxation exercises, that was all. The only post-hypnotic suggestion she had implanted concerned the ritual I had just performed, that doing so would unlock all my memories of what happened while I was hypnotized.
\nThe force of this realization struck me hard in the gut. I fell to my knees, my heart racing, my collar suddenly too tight to allow in sufficient air.
\n\u201cDo you understand now, pet?\u201d Goddess Marquesa asked.
\n\u201cYes,\u201d I gasped. \u201cNo matter what you do to me, no matter what promises you break, no matter what you refuse me, I will always feel grateful to You.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd why is that?\u201d
\n\u201cBecause you are so wise, and so beautiful, and so strong. Oh\u2026\u201d my voice broke with emotion, \u201c\u2026.so strong. Because I love You, Goddess.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd what does that make you?\u201d
\n\u201cYour slave,\u201d I replied.
\nTears had begun to flow once again down my face. I looked up at Goddess Marquesa from my knees, my features set in a mask of abject surrender.
\n\u201cYou see, my dear,\u201d Goddess Marquesa said, her emerald eyes sparkling with triumph, \u201cyou had it in your power all along to become a slave. What do you have to say now?\u201d
\n\u201cThank You, Goddess. Thank You, oh\u2026.oh Goddess….Thank You\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\u201cTell me what brought you here,\u201d Goddess Marquesa said. I shuffled nervously in my seat and took a sip of the drink she had poured for me, my throat suddenly dry. \u201cI want\u2026I yearn to experience genuine slavery,\u201d I answered. She smiled, her green eyes flashing a mixture of amusement and understanding. \u201cYes, I can […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":69,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[8,4],"tags":[220,59,271,830,829,831,58,91,39,746,142,71,214,62],"class_list":["post-2890","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-inspired-by-goddess-marquesa","category-stories","tag-blonde","tag-breasts","tag-control","tag-deep-hypnosis","tag-desire-for-salvery","tag-frustration","tag-legs","tag-lips","tag-marquesa","tag-marquesas-voice","tag-masturbation","tag-obedience","tag-submission","tag-surrender"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p2FCuA-KC","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/hypno-erotica.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2890","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/hypno-erotica.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/hypno-erotica.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hypno-erotica.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/69"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hypno-erotica.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2890"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/hypno-erotica.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2890\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2891,"href":"https:\/\/hypno-erotica.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2890\/revisions\/2891"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/hypno-erotica.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2890"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hypno-erotica.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2890"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hypno-erotica.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2890"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}