Brad recognized the woman sitting down the bar from him. He was impressed. She was even sexier in person than she appeared on the internet. He had caught her glancing at him a few times, and decided to make his move.

             Brad gestured to the bartender. “Come here,” he summoned, pressing a twenty and a hand-written note into the bartender’s hand. “Buy the blond whatever she is drinking and give her this. Keep the change.”

             The bartender carried out his errand, and in short order the woman rose and made her way down the bar. As she took the stool next to him, Brad was enveloped in a delicious fragrance. She put the opened note on the bar. “COME DRINK WITH ME,” it read in ALL CAPS. “Are you always so brusque?” she asked.

             “Goddess Marquesa, isn’t it?” asked Brad. The woman registered no surprise at being recognized. “I’m Brad. I’ve seen your ads for ‘erotic hypnosis.’ Like you I’m a dom,” he continued, “Giving orders comes naturally to me.”

             “Another dominant,” replied Goddess Marquesa. “We’re mismatched.”

            “Not necessarily,” said Brad, grinning. “In my experience most ‘dominant’ women are just looking for the right man to come and take charge.”

             “Your range of experience is obviously very narrow. A woman’s natural disposition is dominance, especially in sex and romance. Anything otherwise is the influence of a perverse and distorted society.”

             “Tell that to my ex-girlfriend, Cindy. She was so masochistic and yielding that I finally got bored. I won’t bother with a woman that calls herself ‘submissive’ anymore. I need the thrill of breaking someone to my will.”

            “I’ve heard this kind of thing many times, Brad,” said Goddess Marquesa. “But forgive me; I have had some experience of my own. I’ve learned too much about men to take what you say seriously anymore.”

            Brad laughed. “I think you are kidding yourself, ‘Goddess.’ I saw you looking at me from the other end of the bar. And you came over when I whistled. I obviously turn you on. Do you care to put your theories to the test?”

            Goddess Marquesa smiled. “What do you propose?” she asked.

            “Come home with me. Give me an hour alone with you. By then I will have you whimpering and begging. It will be the greatest experience of your life.”

            “And if you haven’t rocked my world in an hour, what then?”

            “I’ll drive you home and do whatever household chore you like.”

            Goddess Marquesa smiled. “All right, Brad. But I warn you…you may not like what you learn about yourself.”

            Brad barked out a loud laugh. “I’ll take my chances.”


            Brad watched Goddess Marquesa survey his “dungeon”. He had escorted her down into his furnished basement playroom as soon as they arrived at his house, not wanting to waste any of his promised hour on preliminaries.

            “You enjoy inflicting pain,” the Goddess observed, admiring his array of whips, paddles, and restraints.

            “Almost as much as my partners enjoy receiving it.”

            “This must be your favorite piece of equipment,” Goddess Marquesa replied, running her fingers along the contours of a bent whipping frame equipped with ankle and wrist restraints. “You are a spanker, I can tell. You like working on a woman’s ass.”

            “Yes,” agreed Brad.

            The Goddess turned to offer Brad a view of her rear.  “I have an especially nice ass, don’t you think, Brad?”

            Brad nodded, excitement showing on his face.

            Goddess Marquesa bent herself over the whipping frame and pulled up her dress to expose her garters and panties. “You can’t help but imagine playfully paddling my pert posterior, can you Brad?”

            Brad smiled, “No…no I can’t.”

            “You would love to fiercely flagellate my firm flesh; smack, slap, and swat my saucy stern…”

            “Yes!” exclaimed Brad, his eyes bright. Through his pants the straining bulge of his erect cock was clearly visible.

            “Your eyes are drawn more and more to my ass, just as you are drawn more and more to my voice. As you gaze longingly at my ass you feel yourself becoming relaxed…your eyes are growing heavier…you are getting so sleepy…”


            “Open your eyes, Brad.”

            Brad did as he was told, and found himself bent over the whipping frame, shackled by the wrists and ankles. Goddess Marquesa had pulled a chair up in front of the frame and seated herself so that her chest was at his eye level.

            “What happened? How did I get this way?”

            “You asked me to lock you up, silly boy.”

            “What? No…let me out. What time is it? How long have I been here?”

            “Shh…relax, Brad. We have more work to do. Now,” the Goddess said, reaching up and pulling the collar of her dress down to partially expose her breasts, “look at my bodacious breasts, my tempting tits…” she took her breasts in hand and began to massage them slowly, accentuating their voluptuous weight and tantalizing shape, “what do they make you feel?”

            Brad twitched and grunted. He found it difficult to form a coherent thought. “I want to….to slap them…to pinch them….”

            “No, puppet,” chastised Goddess Marquesa, her tone that of talking to a naughty child, “you want to caress them. You want to fondle them gently. You want to kiss them, to suck them.”

            While the Goddess spoke, Brad’s eyes remained focused on her breasts. He trembled, as if caught in an internal struggle.

            “Show me,” breathed the Goddess, her voice satin-smooth, “show me how you want to suck my breasts…”

            The muscles of Brad’s face clenched, his jaw quivered. Finally something snapped; his features went slack and his eyes softened. His lips pursed, his tongue protruded, and his mouth made soft sucking motions, emitting small wet sounds like that of a baby.

            “That’s a good boy,” cooed Goddess Marquesa. “Very good. Now, your eyelids are getting heavy again. So heavy….”



            Brad emerged from sleep again, this time in his own living room, seated on his favorite plush green armchair across from his plasma flat screen.  Goddess Marquesa was standing in front of him, her just-snapped fingers in his face. A clock on the side table next to him read 6:00 AM.

            “One more test to see if we’re finished, Brad.”

            “What have you done to me?” he asked, his voice edged with panic.

            “I’ve cured you, silly boy, just as I warned you would happen. You had been badly warped by society, but I’ve put you back the way Goddess intended. Now be still so I can perform the last test.”

             Goddess Marquesa turned so that her back was to him. “Look at my ass, Brad. What does it make you feel?”

            Brad tried to look away, but his eyes were drawn to the Goddess’s ass as if by a magnet. Before making a conscious decision to speak, he blurted out, “I want it…”

            “What exactly do you want?” she demanded.

            To spank it! said a voice inside of Brad, but it was a faint, dissipating echo.

            He fought to remain silent. “I want to kiss it,” he said finally.

            “Good…excellent….You’re not fit to touch me, of course. But still I would like to hear you beg to kiss my ass. Go ahead, Brad.”


            Again a momentary echo in Brad’s mind, disappearing into blackness before emerging from his throat.

            Brad struggled once more. The humiliation of having to beg for and be refused what he would have disdained before…it was unthinkable. His hands and feet were free, this magnificent woman was in easy striking distance, but somehow he could not bring himself to do what had come so naturally in the past.

            His muscles seized, his hands gripped the armrests of the chair so tightly that his knuckles went white. Goddess Marquesa’s ass filled his vision, enflaming him with a desire so powerful that his cock actually ached from longing. He knew she would not allow him…she had told him so. The humiliation of impending rejection was excruciating, but he couldn’t stop himself…he had to beg…

            “P…Please….G….G…Goddess,” he heard himself say. “Please let me kiss your ass.”

            “On your knees, puppet.”

            Brad slid to his knees. “Please. Please, I beg you.”

            “You may not kiss my ass, Brad. You don’t deserve it. But I will let you sniff my ass, like a dog. Do it now.”

            Again Brad was powerless to resist. He leaned forward so that his nose hovered an inch away from Goddess Marquesa’s ass. He inhaled deeply, yearning to imbibe her scent. Through her skirt and panties he could only catch a whiff of her perfume, and found himself wishing he could burrow deeper to retrieve her natural fragrance. The thought made him whimper in frustration.

            “Very nice,” said the Goddess. “Stay, boy.” She walked over to a telephone, leaving Brad on his knees. After dialing a number, she spoke into the receiver. “He’s here….Yes…I’m almost done with his conditioning….All right, he’ll be ready for you.”

            Placing the receiver back in its cradle, Goddess Marquesa turned back to Brad. “I have a confession, Brad,” she said. “Our meeting tonight was not an accident. I’ve been working with Cindy, your ‘ex’ girlfriend, helping her to rediscover her natural dominance. I think she is foolish to forgive you, but she seems to be very fond of you, so I offered to reprogram you for her. She’ll be here to claim you in a few minutes. There is just one more thing we have to do.”

            Goddess Marquesa picked up her purse from where it lay on Brad’s coffee table. Opening it, she drew out a small framed picture. “I want you to look at this for me, Brad. As you do you will listen to my voice, and feel relaxed…so relaxed….”


            Brad came into the living room, wearing nothing but an apron. Cindy was stretched out in his favorite green armchair (her armchair, he corrected himself), watching an afternoon soap on the big plasma screen. “I’ve cleaned the toilet,” he announced.

            “Good boy,” said Cindy without taking her eyes from the screen. “Is dinner in the oven?”

            “Yes, darling,” he replied.

            “All right. You can take a break, then.”

            Brad lingered for a moment, hesitant to speak now that he had been dismissed.

            “What do you want?” asked Cindy, slightly annoyed.

            “I was hoping I could do it today…”

            “How long has it been?” Cindy asked.

            “Two weeks.”

            Cindy thought for a moment. “All right…I suppose.” Hitting “pause” on the remote, she rose from the chair. Flashing Brad a cool look of indulgent resignation, she led him downstairs.

            Once they were in the dungeon, Cindy turned. “Get into position,” she said. Brad knelt down facing a small, locked cabinet hung on the wall opposite the stairwell. Once Brad was settled, Cindy reached down her shirt and produced a key hung on a chain around her neck. With this she unlocked the cabinet and opened the doors. Inside was the framed picture of Herself that Goddess Marquesa had first shown Brad.

            Clasping his hands in front of his chest, Brad began. “Thank You, Goddess Marquesa, for showing me the error of my ways. Please, I pray, let me have the use of my own body, that I may please Cindy and find peace.

            As Brad said the words he felt the change come over him. His cock, which otherwise was always flaccid, became suddenly hard with the pent up desire of two week’s abstinence.

            “Hmmm…” said Cindy, eying Brad’s cock appreciatively. Lifting a horsewhip from its hook on one wall and testing its weight, she mused, “Now that you have this erection, let’s see what we can do with it…”