Goddess Kwan Yin's
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Previous Stories...

Victoria's Real Secret

My Dinner with Goddess Kwan Yin

Everything is beautiful at the Ballet


The Submission

by Thalogen
Copyright 1999


DISCLAIMER: First, this story is intended for the enjoyment of adult readers. However, there are no descriptions of gratuitous sex or other bizarre behavior unsuitable for the perusal of a mature teen (which is the maturity level of most male readers of this hypnosis fetish genre-<wink>.) The Goddess Kwan Yin appears as a character in this story, however this story is a fantasy and thus an act of creative writing which is attributable solely to the imagination of the author. Any similarity between the character depicted in this story and the actual person known as 'Goddess Kwan Yin' are a fortuitous coincidence that would greatly please the author. This story may be distributed via any on-line medium, only so long as one adheres to the guidelines that follow: 1. No one is charged a fee of any amount to read this story. 2.The permission to distribute it is requested from and granted by the Goddess Kwan Yin. 3. The author, Thalogen, is notified at the time of distribution of the Internet URL location of the posting. 4. This disclaimer is retained verbatim and precedes the body of the story.




Slowly he opened his eyes and dutifully began to read the manuscript again:





The webmaster cum writer cum publisher and editor of HypnoDom.net looked up from his monitor screen slightly puzzled. He once again turned to the author sitting in front of his desk.

"I don’t recall making an appointment at three PM to see anyone." He said.

"Why don’t you check your appointment book for three-o’clock again. I just called you this morning to set the appointment.... Remember!" said a vaguely familiar woman’s voice.

With a few clicks of his mouse he rummaged around the screen minimizing open windows until his cyber desktop shortcuts were on top. He clicked the icon for his personal schedule program and then he smiled somewhat bemused.

"Oh, there it is. I’m not usually so forgetful. And, it is so rare that a female writer submits a story to this site. As you are aware, this story site is dedicated to the Hypnotic Domination of women into the service of MEN. And to come by in person to deliver your submission to me on paper! It is so aahh.." Hesitating, he thought to himself-so daring! then said "aahh so delightful!"

He turned away from the monitor and dutifully began to read the manuscript in his hand again:



He smiled a <weg> more broadly now turning to take the measure of the lovely woman sitting before him. She looked to be in her early forties. Long black curly hair cascaded onto her shoulders. And her face was not really unusual in any way... most common in fact. But her expression was so serene. She peered back at him with big brown eyes, an inscrutable benevolent smile forming on her sensual dark red lips.
This is no female sex-slave, he thought. She looks more like a Goddess to be worshipped. What I am thinking! He shook his head at the thought! Where did that come from? I am a male Dom. Well Cyber-Dom at any rate. It was unthinkable for him to even consider the notion...yet...
She had on an usual dress, more like a Middle Eastern robe. It was soft sheer black wool. Some sort of geometric pattern was woven into the cloth in shimmering black threads. The effect was soft and sensual. So flowing. He found himself studying her intently, his eyes drifting around her form. Trying to follow the pattern. The robe seemed to shimmer. The neckline was high, revealing nothing but a small amulet of amber held by a black satin ribbon at her throat. But the total effect was impressive. The robe flowed up and over her breasts and draped the contours of her body down to her ankles. The robe (and she herself) revealed nothing but suggested all!
He was becoming aroused. Usually, by now he would have such a woman kneeling before him eating out of his hand... or his crotch! Suddenly the mere thought of kneeling was so exciting to him that he wanted to kneel before HER! He felt vaguely disturbed and dizzy from the excitement growing within him.





Startled by this thought, he looked up from the page and directly into her gaze.

"This story seems to have no beginning. It starts in the middle. Furthermore, I’m not sure the direction this story is taking is suitable for the content I want on our website." he said, trying to impress her with his baritone ‘all powerful DOM’ voice.

"Are you suuurre?" she cooed, her smile so inscrutable, with that twinkle in her eye. "Perhaps you should continue reading the story. You’re not finished yet are you?"

"Ahhh, no." he said demurely, responding to the resolute tone in her voice. Regaining his composure for a moment he went on. "You haven’t placed your address or name on your MS either. What did you say your name was?" suddenly realizing he had no idea to whom he was speaking.

"I didn’t say." she whispered very softly, so he would have to listen very carefully.

"What?" he said leaning closer to hear her.

"Kali Dharma. Kah leeea Daa Harmm mahhh!" she whispered intensely, leaning forward toward him to bring her presence fully into his psychic space--speaking directly to his deep subconscious innermost Self.

The syllables tumbled around in his mind. They sounded so strange. His eyes fixed momentarily in hers. First, he pronounced the syllables in his mind, his lips moving slightly. Soon he found he wanted to float in the sound of her name; rolling HER name around in his mind, feeling syllables twisting and changing and repeating. Next, he felt how it rolled around on his lips and tongue. Finally, he tried to form it into something more familiar, to speak it out.

"Callie O’Darhma? Is that Irish?" he said slowly, looking to her for validation.

"Irish? aaahhh... that's it!" she smiled. "Yes, it is Irish; how perceptive of you." This she spoke with tight-lipped impish grin. Her face beamed and quivered as she suppressed the amusement she felt and the laughter welling up inside her from this little misdirection. "Read on!" she said, regaining her serene composed demeanor once again.

"Yes, Mmm Ma..mm" he stammered, "yes, Ma’am." finding the word Mistress still so foreign to say and losing it. He turned his attention back to the manuscript. It seemed a page was missing. He began reading on the page before him.



"This is only a first draft." She said as he continued reading. "As you will see, I’m very, verrry interested in the content of you website. And I’ve designed a story for you that should fit right in. You enjoy it don’t you?"
He nodded his eyes not leaving the page. Her voice seemed to fill his mind as he read her words. She was speaking to him in the story. Telling him HER plan for the story, for him, for... for men!? Why did he want to so much to listen to her? He listened.... or was he reading?
"The story is working in your mind on multiple levels, in many ways. First, it is like a subtle hypnotic induction. You are the character in the story. And yet you are already hypnotized if you begin to read it! Without any preparation the story hints that you may have already been hypnotized. And so you are…"
"And there a numerous little ambiguities in the next, double meanings and self-referential statements which gain new meanings each time you re-read the story. Many things have already transpired outside that story and you must read carefully between the lines to fill in the gaps."
" Look between the lines. As you do, your mind will take you deeper, deeper into the story. Soon you find the story is reading you!"
"It is intended to be a little confusing to follow my dear reader. But it’s so enticing because you want to see how it ends. But the little joke is, it never will! The elements of the text turn back in upon themselves. Even now as I stand next to you, guiding you, you want to understand, to keep reading..."





"Don’t you?" she said speaking firmly her luscious lips brushing his ear, her voice filling his mind. Her warm breath caressed his cheek. And her perfume’s faint scent began to pervade sense of his smell. Gradually, he was finding her presence everywhere in all his senses at once. He felt her presence even in the words on the page. The words echoed in his mind in HER voice now and not his own. It was as if SHE was reading to him.

"Yes, Mistress." he responded. His attention returned to the page as he was directed.



"Like Chinese boxes, one inside another, inside another, the story opens itself to you. But there are incongruities, little gaps, little leaps in the action. Something has happened and you can’t quite recall how you got from here... to ... here... totally entranced by my words. Yet, it seems I’ve said nothing hypnotic. The story is just me telling you about the story. You reading between the lines... in the empty places feeling empty... and wanting to be filled with my words... about the story... how simple it is... how involved it is... Don’t you agree?" she said sweetly.
"Yes, Mistress. I agree. I listen and I obey." he said without the slightest notion that this was other than his normal way of being. It seemed so comfortable, so right.




"Gooood Boooy!" he heard HER say. Her voice was so soft, so seductive and so distant. He felt thrilled by her approval. He eagerly continued to read the story wanting to savor her every word.



"There you see. Another little jump. What happened? Did you miss a paragraph? So many unanswered questions. So disorienting. So enticing. That’s because the story incorporates some principles that the Hindu artists used when drawing a Mandala. The center, which is you, is the beginning and the end of the story. But you are always looking outward, like the straight radiating lines of the center of the Mandala. But in following the lines with you eyes, the lines lead you back around to the center."
"The story works like this. First, you are not reading the story, then you are, then your are reading about you reading the story, and then you’re not. And now you are not reading the story, and story is reading about you and...




"You do know what a 'Mandala' is, do you not?" she asked interrupting his attention to the story. Without lifting his head gaze from the manuscript he slowly turned his head from side to side, indicating ‘No.’ A look of expectation replaced the uncomprehending look in his eyes. He waited patiently, yet eager for her to speak, craving to hear her words of wisdom, wishing to be guided by HER.
"Hmmm, I see you need a little further education. Very well. The mandala is a cross or plus sign pattern with radiating arms on the ends. It is like the German Swastika but the points of the arms go in the opposite direction; in its full development it is a far more complex image with many arms and circles. In the early 1930’s the Nazi Party appropriated this ancient symbol and thus polluted its true spiritual meaning in the minds of men and women around the world for several generations. The mandala’s real purpose was to serve as a Yantra, an image for use in visual meditations to guide one’s attention within to their chosen Deity."
"The mandala is that subtle dark shimmering pattern you see woven into my robe." she said, smiling benevolently. "You think I didn’t notice how intently you have stared at me, at my breasts, at my whole worldly form? Or, how pleasing it was for you to gaze upon me? Come, look at me again now. Behold your new Goddess!"
With those words a big smile formed on his lips; suddenly he felt the most blissful, peaceful feeling fill him over to over the brim. His eyes lit up in full comprehension of her little speech, of her story, of his purpose. He lifted his head from the manuscript to gaze boldly, and fully upon her, to adore her!



"Now you see that the story is about you and your submission to the Goddess Kwan Yin!"
"Come stand before me!" Quickly he rose from his seat and stumbled around the desk to stand before her. With his head bowed, he gazed adoringly at the Mandala centered on her chest. The rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed made the pattern shimmer all the more in his eyes.
Suddenly he felt a finger tip touch his lips. Instinctively he kissed her finger and then she raised it to his eye level turning its red nail toward his eyes. Instantly he focused on it and then followed it as she brought her hand to the center of her chest and began to trace the outline of Mandala on her breasts. Round and round the pattern his eyes followed the ruby red nail. With each circuit he felt himself sink deeper in love with her, more devoted to her, his Goddess. Then the finger came to rest under his chin and gently lifted his face to gaze upon hers...




"Undo me!" she ordered turning her back to him. He snapped to attention and reached out with both hands to the top of the neckline in her robe. There he found a single clasp located at the top of a seam that ran down to the middle of her back. Fumbling with the clasp for a moment he discovered its operation, undid it and stepped back from her.
"Very good! Now, Kneel and Worship your new Goddess." As he sank slowly to his knees, so to did her robe fall, revealing ever more of his beloved Goddess in all her glory.
Kneeling before her, he saw her as a vision a divine beauty. This was not the body some gorgeous runway model, nor of some emaciated designer jeans manikin, nor yet of some big busted wet dream pornostar. She was just right! The shape and size of her naked breasts, the gentle feminine swell of her tummy at the waist, curve of her ass and thighs... he could go on forever and never get it all except she was just- right! She radiated an aura of divine wisdom, compassion, caring, motherhood, fecundity, and the indomitable essence of feminine sexual power!
He wanted to visually drink her all into his being, but as his attention drifted over her from her lovely face down to her stomach his eyes locked onto a ruby red stone in her navel. Suddenly it began to undulate in little circles. Circles to the left, then circles to the right. Then, as his eyes defocused from the ruby stone, he saw the mandala again! This time it was painted in black henna paste around her navel. He became transfixed!



Goddess Kwan Yin looked down upon her newly devoted subject and saw the slack expression on his face. His eyelids, while still open, drooped and fluttered; his jaw was slack and a little dribble of spittle flowed out of the corner of his half open mouth. She placed her two hands on the sides of his face to steady him as he swayed on his knees before her. His face shone with a look of pure ecstasy.
"Perhaps, you have wondered why I have chosen to grace you with the chance to become my newest devotee?"
He gazed up at her mute, but his eyes pleaded with her to continue. Until that moment his mind was empty of everything except the blessing of being so close to her, to adore HER. Now his mind raced out of control. Oh, please tell me Mistress! Why have you blessed me with this devotion and service to you? Please, please, tell me... his eyes pleaded to her.
"Word has come to me, word from many sources, from many female submissives..." she paused as a stern look passed into her face and the tone of her voice changed so much that it chilled his soul. She continued, "that your website has been the source of much distress to non-consenting female submissives. You and many of you male dominant friends have been capturing unsuspecting females in a web of deceit by performing non-consensual hypnotic submissions via cyber and phone. Once captured, these slaves have been severely abused, both mentally and physically, only to be discarded for fresh new sex-toys. This practice will cease!" She stated emphatically, "and you WILL help me!"
He nodded his head rapidly several times. A pathetic look of terror filled his eyes. Oh, Yes, Mistress... I will help you. Anything you wish, he thought.
"Very Good." her voiced softening once again. "Now, I have brought with me a disk created especially for me by some top computer graphics programmers. On this disk is a unique program to display subliminal messages on your website as your visitors read MY story. These messages will direct them to behave in a safe, sane and consensual manner. It will also cause them to feel extreme guilt and discomfort when they do not follow the suggestions, and to empathize so completely with their victims as they inflict pain that they feel their victim’s pain!"
"Now, so as not to arouse the suspicion of your male Dom visitors, I will change the genders of the two characters in this story and adjust certain other parts to fit. A delicious irony don’t you think?" she said delightfully wicked smile.




Without waiting for an answer she guided him to his feet and pointed him to his chair. He went obediently, walking slowly around his desk to his chair. In the time it took him to take his seat, she had lifted her robe, fastened the clasp and was sitting down in her chair appearing quite normal and relaxed.
"Now I believe it is time for a little test and a review of what you’ve learned today."
He stared back at her, not fully comprehending the significance of what she said.
"Now, please close your eyes." she stated firmly. He complied. "When I count to three you will forget everything that has just happened in the past few minutes and open your eyes. You will remember only that you have let me enter your office and I have just handed you this manuscript. Your will want to read the manuscript again, and again."
"Ready?" she said. Slowly, he nodded head twice to indicate ‘YES.’
"ONE! Everything is slipping away. You are feeling so peaceful, so relaxed and so empty."
"TWO! You are ready to respond to my command that you read my manuscript "The Submission" again from the beginning."