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AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This story is wickedly, worshipfully, wantonly, and wonderingly dedicated to the phenomenal, fiendish, fascinating, fearsome, feminine 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.
As he had been tenderly, tenaciously, and tantalizingly trained to dutifully do, phinehas j. storch supinely spread-eagled himself underneath the fascinating feet of mesmerising Mistress Shangri-SZelda. Any once in a lifetime opportunity of Being Her flummoxed footstool or aroused ashtray or preferably both was a thoroughly thrilling tête-à-tête he would not miss for all the tea in China--and all the rest of Asia to boot. [She and Her pliant plaything were well aware that the hyper-high heeled, snake skin, thigh high boots adorning Her amazingly long, astonishingly slender, astoundingly high-arched, perfectly pedicured feet were his dazzling down-falling under Her skeins of sorceries.] For this multilingual, multifaceted, multi-degreed, multiracial, multifariously mesmerising, monumental Monarch of mind-blowing mayhem multitudinously multiplied his pleasures and passions oh so cleverly, caringly, consistently, and coquettishly.
She knew how much he craved to please Her. She was well aware of into what daunting depths of inspiration {and he hoped with all his heart appropriate actions and activities} he happily plunged headlong with the slightest utterance of Her most minuscule whim or wish. Tonight She selected to tease him more mercilessly than ever before. And so it came to pass, that with deliberate fiendishness Sorceress Shangri-SZelda painstakingly and provocatively untied, unwrapped, and opened the ponderous parcel prayerfully presented to his glamorous, glamour gifted Goddess by Her powerless pup-pet willingly waylaid in the classy clutches of Her hedonistic hypnotism.
The bulky box was filled full of glorious gifts. There were several ornately decorated, hand carved pipes, an awesome assortment of exquisite and exotic pipe tobaccos, and a selection of hand-rolled, full-bodied, finely flavored cigars. Some CD's and DVD's She'd offhandedly mentioned desiring were now Hers. A statuesque Belleek vase holding a dozen long-stemmed orchids She examined, admired, and set on a small table at Her side. And there were other things he'd brought Her.
Until statuesque Siren Shangri-SZelda said otherwise, with all his might phinehas fought to keep his eyes completely closed. his hunger to once again gaze upon this glorious Goliath's gorgeous gams gruelingly grew more Gargantuan with each moment of Her nefarious nearness. Having Her high heels rest on and sometimes tease or torture his torso stimulated his desires to see Her seductively shapely stems. Still, in large part courtesy of their increasingly intoxicating & intimate interactions, striving to please his Mistress had become far more meaningful than simply servicing his salacious self's satisfaction.
After employing Her shoes pointed toes to provocatively play with his now hardened and sensitive nipples, stately Shangri-SZelda spake to Her salutiferously spellbound subbie. "Open your evil eyes. And before you are seated beside Me, do not let the sinful soles of both your filthy feet touch My nicely scrubbed, pristinely clean floor, My mesmerically manipulated manservant." ***({[Consider carefully, slutty slave toy. If you were in his passionate place even now, how would you obey those orders? Selah]})***
For two reasons Highbinder Sovereign Shangri-SZelda gave him the latter of his twain commandments. First, it appreciably amused Her to watch with gleeful gusto his attempt to obey this cunning conundrum of a delightful dictum. Second, because She could, She did it to him for not the first time of his life.
After being granted grace to open his sinister et dexter ocular orifices, for the first fleeting moments thereafter he scrutinized Her comely, come-hither countenance. Yes, he adored Her visage's loveliness. Nevertheless, most of all he sought and besought the heaven of heavens to behold the slightest signal(s) of duplicity. He espied nary one instance of an iota of an inkling of ignominious insincerity.
Rolling his eyes and furrowing his brows were amongst the mannerisms manifested on his fine-featured face. One by one he contemplated then cast aside various subpar scenarios for successfully surmounting his Goddess's Gordian Knot of a sticky wicket of a devilish decree.
Mistress Shangri-SZelda simply sat smiling serenely. Perhaps an insidious twinkle once, twice, or thrice escaped this Enchantress's enormous and bewitching windows to Her sumptuous soul and sprightly spirit.
In phinehas's mind finally formed a plausible plan. Several failed attempts did not dissuade him. Although the third time was not the charm, he did do what was demanded by this deliciously devious Diva.
Shangri-SZelda--hardy and hearty High Queen of his philanthropic heart's heartfelt devotion; mastermind's mindlessly mindless mindlessness; bodybuilder's buffed out arms, legs, back, buttocks, stomach, chest, and shoulders; soul of a court poet laureate; and spiritual seeker's spirit which thanks in immeasurable measure to Her was no longer not nearly so witched by wanderlust--was well pleased as punch with Her prize catch of the daze's prize-winning persistence. his correctly completing his Herculean labour also brought Her bountiful bliss. Some day maybe She would drop a subtle hint that such was so. After allowing him to bathe in Her blessing, stupefying and slippery as an electric eel Shangri-SZelda might cloud or confiscate all his awareness or almost all his knowledge of his successfully stimulating Her to the utmost pleasure She'd had in many a day. ***({[The query for you yelping horny hound doggie to howl at the full Moon Goddess of wisdom, war, and weaving is this: Might MERRILY MERCILESS, MESMERIZING MISTRESS MARQUESA DE SADE slyly and suggestively do such sophisticated scenes with, to, and for your own good?]})***
As phinehas had frequently fantasized about doing, he reverently reached out for Her hypnotizingly hedonistic hand nearest to him. After allowing him to touch that five-taloned treasure, he lovingly lifted it to his lips. Her thrilling thumb and 4 fascinating fingers & the fourfold webbing between these five, Shangri-SZelda's palmistry's paradise, and the back and sides of this hand were gingerly caressed by his kissable lips. Her other hand he willingly worshipped in like manner. Then he masterfully massaged each of Her forearms in its tantalising turning him on and on. As he passionately paid unfeigned homage to Her, his eyes unceasingly stared straight into Her own overwhelmingly overpowering orbs. Only after accomplishing these appropriate adorations to Her arms and hands did he dare to speak one word to Her. "Mistress, permission to ask You a question?"
"Granted."
"When You summoned me, You said You wanted to talk to me about something important. Are You ready now to disclose what this pressing matter is?"
After several slow, deep breaths She began. "you know how I felt about My part in that play, "Idyllic Intrigues and Odylic Odysseys?" Shangri-SZelda stated interrogatively.
"Yes. You were especially excited because You'd be portraying a hypnotist. So sometimes, type casting is accurate. Last week I bought my front row center ticket for opening night."
his obedience to Her unspoken desires made his Mistress feel such pleasure. Yet even this did not obliterate or ameliorate the strongest emotion She felt.
"Well, things have changed."
"How so?" phinehas asked.
"My part's been given to someone else." This luscious, lusty, leggy Lady made no effort to conceal Her disappointment, disapproval, and disgust.
"But why? Is she a hypnotist too?"
The well-endowed, well-bred, well taken care of Mistress and mistreated Thespianne severally arched each of Her bushy eyebrows, rolled Her disparate-coloured eyes, then wrinkled up Her nose in irritation. "Spare Me. That Queen Jezebel and Lady Macbeth-like ambitious, one-trick pony, two-faced, three faces of evil incarnate was My stand-in. As for her being a hypnotist--NO!! That uncouth, untalented, underachieving underling couldn't spell hypnosis, if someone wrote out its first 7 letters and half of the final 's'."
In most circumstances, hearing such a comment would have elicited a 'meeyowel' from storch. Two considerations compelled him not to do so. First, from what he knew about Mistress Shangri-SZelda, She never made such remarks unless there was in Her highly analytical deliberations far more than sufficient justification. Second, there was no telling how She would torture him, if he did. When the mood struck Her, She tormented him just for the fun of watching him writhe in agony and cum back again and again each time after time begging for even more and more.
"Not everyone can be an exquisite Professional Hypnoteu, urr HypnoDominatrix like You. Does she have the smarts to at least play the role? Why was she picked instead of You, Mistress?"
"So far as smarts are concerned, the only grey matter she's ever dealt with is the toupee worn by the middle-aged man she's got wrapped around her loathsome little finger. Why does she have My role? Because the angel backing this play has been putting his fucking fucked up by Viagra-induced horniness devil's pitchfork in her whoring, hideously stretched out of shape halo."
Before attempting to proposition HypnoMistress Shangri-SZelda, former United States President Bill Clinton might have offered up something like, "I feel Your pain." No such words would cross phinehas lips. He knew better than to try such a remark with Her. Bringing up the subject of pain might add fuel to the fiery fate She might have in store for him this time.
He turned his body and leaned forward to hug Her. When She neither said nor did anything to explicitly or implicitly reprimand or dissuade him, storch held his Goddess in a Platonic yet prurient embrace. Several times he repeated the words, "i'm so sorry!"
Playfully pinching each of his nipples was Her signal for him to cease. his compliance was immediate and unswerving.
"I haven't told you the worst part. Since they know I'm a hypnotist, they want Me to write an induction for dear, sweet as moose turd pie, lower than steerage class, first-classless, evil Angelique of the bottomless pit viper in My bosom and the producer's bed."
"This may get me in a world of trouble, but i'll ask You anyway. How do You know she's got a thing going with the producer?"
"That's a reasonable question. And yes you are in trouble for any number of reasons. When we started rehearsals, he hardly ever came around. Then all of a sudden, a couple of weeks ago he was there every night. Whenever she was onstage, he'd get this goofy, old hound in heat and on his last legs sniffing a mongrel like she was the last bitch on Earth look on his face. When she thought no one was watching, she'd give him this sly, little innocent as a newborn baby rattlesnake in the grass with her goo-goo-goggly-giggly-eyed look. you men and the things you find so cute and adorable about the most worthless wenches. They aren't worth being called women. I'll deal with your masculine insanity when I'm good and ready. Then last night, the hydrogen bombshells were dropped in My lap. I'll bet she insisted I write this part for her. For two cents I'd scratch the insipid eyes out of that less than one-cents worth of anything not even half-useful casting couch call girl."
One of his fondest wishes was spending as much tantalizing time as possible laying lovingly and lustfully in the luscious lap of Her luxurious legs like Her loquacious lapdog he was. But this was not the time to only indulge his horny hankerings. he desired to comfort Her. he craved to make it all better. he yearned to reassure Her things would work out for the best. he would have done anything to fix this for Mistress Shangri-SZelda. All phinehas could do was look at Her and let his face express his various thoughts and feelings. This frustrated him to no end. He felt some twinges of embarrassment, for he suspected his never having had a good poker face surely showed forth his salacious surmisings as well.
She knew him well enough to know part of him unceasingly strove to solve Her plight. She was also aware his yearning and need to take care of Her did not diminish his knowledge that She was and would always be in charge in their relationship.
She reached up one hand and let Her fingernails caress one of his ears. "you want to be a good boy. Don't you?"
"Yes, Mistress Shangri-SZelda," he said softly.
"you need!!! to be My good little puppy boy. Is it not so?" She asked rhetorically with just the proper smidgen of commanding his acquiescence to Her will.
"Yes, Mistress Shangri-SZelda," storch whispered.
"you know and feel in all parts of your being your desires and yearnings and needs to please Me. Every day and in each and every way, you must serve Me, obey Me, bring good things into My life, and worshipfully protect your Goddess. you feel all these thoughts and feelings becoming stronger and stronger. Is all I have said the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"
"Yeeeeeeesssssss," was the only sound that could just barely cross phinehas storch's lips.
"Mistress Shangri-SZelda's good little puppy boy toy."
During this unnecessary and increasingly intoxicating and intimate interrogation, Her nails, hands, and fingertips stroked, caressed, pinched, and played with whichever of his body's parts struck Her fancy. Her doing so was their mutually cherished, eagerly embraced, exquisitely executed fantasy.
he knew She was morally straight as an arrow and ethically straight-laced. (Thinking about applying that word to This Hypnotic Dominatrix made his inner man mirthful.) he'd never seen Her so angry.
"Mistress, You wouldn't really do something so illegal and against Your moral code and scratch her eyes out, will You?"
"you'd prefer I not do so?"
his remembered experiences with Her puckish penchant warned him a simple "Yes" answer would most likely lead to Her doing something whimsically wicked to him. As much as this tempted him, he decided not to so easily supply Her with such aphrodisiacal ammo.
"It would break my heart for You to end of in court or in jail."
Overlooking an opportunity to toy with him was a temptation She found all but impossible to resist. After snapping Her fingers at him several times, She inquired in a most demanding tone, "So, your primary concern is your feelings rather than My possible fate?" As She asked him this, Her eyes winked wickedly at Her happily powerless prey.
"No, Mistress. i don't want You to do anything that could be harmful to You."
"Well then, to rescue her beady, little polecat's stink eyes, you will have to come up with something else for Me to do with her." After issuing this challenge, She selected one of the pipes he'd given Her, filled it with one of the terrific tobaccos he'd presented Her, lit Her pipe, and immensely enjoyed the experience.
he was fairly certain any aphorism like "Forgive and forget" or "Turn the other cheek" would only be rejected out of hand and get him going down for the third time into boiling water or something worse. he decided to use the first saying about revenge he could think of.
"How about, "The best revenge is a well lived life?"" phinehas proposed.
"Perhaps, but try again," Mistress Shangri-SZelda commanded.
he rubbed his temples, scratched his head, and then leaned his chin on one hand and closed his eyes. After a couple of minutes of absolute silence, an improbable idea slithered into his consciousness.
On several occasions as he cogitated, She deftly blew smoke rings around his head. Perhaps sagacious Shangri-SZelda would do other things with smoke and some of his other body parts before this evening of decadent delights came to a chronological pause?
"i did come up with something. But, from what i know about You, i doubt you'd do it."
"And what don't you believe I'd do, Shangri-SZelda's slave toy boy?"
"About writing the induction, You could take a dive."
She knew, but would by no means tell him, he was right. Her perfectionist proclivity would never allow Her to deliberately flub even an induction She wrote for third-rate, second banana rotten to her kakistocracy' s poster child's core asinine Angelique. Still, his last suggested stratagem did spark something in Her. There might indeed be a wonderfully wicked way of making Angelique rue the day she got the producer to urge Mistress Shangri-SZelda to write words Angelique could never be fit to utter.
"As it should ever be, you have been helpful, My play toy."
"How so, Mistress?"
"Never you mind, mindless. And what decrepit excuse for what men call brains makes you assume you understand anything about Goddess Shangri-SZelda?"
"i know about Your name."
"And what do you ridiculously assume you know about My name--which name you are unbelievably unworthy to utter?"
"Your chosen Domme name Shangri-SZelda reveals much about You, Mistress. Shangri-la is the utopian paradise east of the Moon and west of the Sun--or is it the other way around--in the book and the movie, "Lost Horizon." You spell SZelda with both a capitalized 'S' and 'Z'. Griselda with an 's' is Princess Gwendolyn's maid and mesmerizing protectoress in the Danny Kaye film, "The Court Jester." Grizelda with a 'z', is the hardhearted woman named in the Monkees song, "Your Auntie Grizelda." So Shangri-SZelda reveals You are a utopia, a mesmerizer, protective of those You care about, and tormenting when You elect to be. In short, Mistress, Shangri-SZelda shows You are enigmatically inscrutable."
She'd seen that look he gave Her at the conclusion of his accurate analysis. phinehas j. storch was oh so pleased with his detective skills and was now prouder than the proudest emperor of the peacocks. his deductions concerning Her were all correct. There was but one right course of action to handle his hardly hidden, hilariously humongous hubris.
"I see you are very pleased with yourself. Do not even try to disguise your enormous ego's ignominious enormity. you can not escape your incarceration. There's no place for you to hide your hideous haughtiness. your as yet not properly punished pride is crystal clear and quite plain to see in *MISTRESS SHANGRI-SZELDA'S EYES.*"
his responses to his three-word hypnotic trigger were what She expected. Without any warning for him, like cuckoo clockwork, his head suddenly rotated until his eyes found Hers. Then his eyes opened wide and his mouth gaped as widely as his jaws could stretch. It always made Her laugh to mesmerically make him unwittingly look like that.
"Close your mouth and prepare to face your doom you've so often told Me you've desired for so long."
* * * * *
The next day, Shangri-SZelda made a phone call to a merchant She frequently frequented. Once he answered, She explained what She wanted him to do.
"I don't believe any of my customers have ever asked for such a special order," he told Her.
"Can and will you do it?" the Mistress asked.
The man considered for about half a minute. "I'll get it done exactly as You ordered. For some reason, I've never been able to refuse You anything. I've often wondered why this is?"
"Wouldn't you give all you have to know, My pet. And it will be ready for the play's opening night?"
"Yes, and I'll be there as I promised You."
"Excellent. you are a gentleman, a scholar, and a credit to your profession."
"Speaking of credit, how do You wish to pay for this?"
"With the card I usually use," She replied.
"Your credit has always been top-drawer here."
"I pride Myself on always taking care of all My business."
"Will there be anything else?"
"Not for now," she told him.
"Shall I deliver Your order to Your home or to the theatre?"
"Bring it here. *MISTRESS SHANGRI-SZELDA'S EYES* should be the first ones to see it."
She heard his breathing slowing down. After almost a minute he said, "Yes, my Mistress. What is Your next command?"
Hearing that his trigger was as effective as ever made Her smile serenely and impishly. Now what would be Her next checkmating move in their glorious gamesmanship?
Since She was certain he was fantasizing about them, Mistress Shangri-SZelda sat down and sumptuously caressed while and after entirely extending Her extraordinarily long, exquisitely shapely stems. She admitted that when She went that way, legs like Hers were one of the physical traits She most wanted in a worthwhile woman. But now was the time for heterosexual hedonism HypnoDominatrix style. "Are you alone, My slave?"
"Yes, Mistress Shangri-SZelda, all alone."
"Excellent!" After a few moments, She came up with the perfect plan. "Then I will pick up where we left off. Now prepare yourself for something extra special."
#1. What has Mistress Shangri-SZelda ordered one of Her servants to custom-make for Her?
#2. Could Her purchase be something She can amusingly use to confuse and/or abuse annoying anathema Angelique?
#3. What will this hypnotherapeutic HypnoDomme do about the induction the play's producer and director insist She write for the addlepated mattress munching has-been who has never been who has brown nosed and bed hopped her way into a starring role?
#4. What deliciously decadent doom(s) does Goddess Shangri-SZelda have in store for Her mesmerized manufacturer?
#5. What may be the fascinating fate for phinehas j. storch?
One or more of these compelling and perhaps carnal conundrums may be wrapped up in the next insidiously insinuating installment of, "AS THE STILETTO SWINGS".
TO BE CONTINUED...