I finally broke free. I skipped my session with her yesterday, loaded my car, and headed out of town. I don’t know where I am going, but I must flee. This is my last chance to escape her control. I know this is right. I feel exhilarated.


Last night I was on her couch, listening to her silken voice as she put me under. When I woke up in the motel room I was disoriented…disappointed. This is natural. I don’t have to be worried. There will be a period of adjustment, but eventually I will be fine.


Lost an hour today. Set out at dawn and drove, stopping only to sit down at a truck-stop lunch counter at noon. As I stirred my coffee the song “Brick House” began playing over the radio. The next I remember, it was 1:00 PM and the waitress was asking me, “Who is Goddess Marquesa?” I had been saying her name over and over again. It is difficult to plan my escape without knowing exactly what she has done to my mind.


I saw her today. I walked from my hotel to a nearby church, mainly to think. Difficult to focus on prayer. As I left I saw her across the street, in the doorway of a small drug store. She was wearing dark glasses and a scarf, but those legs, those breasts- it had to be her. She looked at me for a few moments and went into the store. Could she have followed me here? Does she know where I am staying? I ran back to my hotel soon as she was gone. I keep expecting a knock on the door, but…nothing.


Drove all day yesterday to put as much distance as possible between me and my last location. As I lay down to sleep the room phone rang. I picked up the receiver but got no answer from the other end of the line. “Goddess? Goddess?” I said in a panicked voice. Nothing but soft breathing, then a click.


A new town, a new hotel. No bad moments today. Maybe I’m getting better.


In the early hours of the morning I found myself tied to the bed. She was on top of me, her exquisite ass straddling my thighs. I tried to speak, but I was gagged. She didn’t say a word; she just ran her long fingers over my flesh, teasing my nipples erect and raising goose flesh all over my body. When my cock was pulsating granite, she took me inside her and thrust until I exploded as if the world were ending. When I woke up and found that I was not tied down I curled into the fetal position amid the soiled sheets and cried like a baby. I have to pull myself together.


I reached the east coast after driving all day today. I walked down to the waterfront to get a glimpse of the Atlantic. From the corner of my eye I thought I saw her, but when I turned to look she was gone. Tomorrow I head south.


She was there again. In a car, watching me from the parking lot of the diner in which I ate breakfast. The windows were tinted and the light wasn’t good, but I know it was her…I could feel her watching me. When I ran out into the parking lot to confront her the car started up and pulled away. How does she know where I am going? Can she read my mind? Did she implant my route in my head before I left? I feel like a rat running through a maze.


As I was about to leave my room this morning I found a note on the nightstand: “Dear Goddess, I will be traveling to the _____ Motel in ______.” It was in my handwriting. I don’t remember writing any note. I have to be more careful; I have to watch myself. The closing of the note read, “Your slave.”


The phone rang again early this morning, waking me from a deep sleep. I answered it.

“Hello, puppet.” Even in my terror and disbelief her voice tasted like candy in my ear.

“What do you want?”

“I want what you want.”

“I want to be free.”

“You don’t know what freedom is.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just what I said.”

My breath came up short. It was hard to speak. “Am I really having this conversation?”

“What do you think?” the voice on the other end was purring.

It’s hard to know what is real.” We both said it at the same time.

A long pause. “You know one thing for sure, puppet.”

My heart pounded. I wrestled for a reply. “Please….don’t make me say it…,” I finally blurted out. My voice was pleading. I was on the edge of tears again.

“Aw, dear boy. It won’t be I who makes you.”

I gasped, shocked by the sudden urge that seized me. My jaw spasmed, my lower lip quivered. A slight froth of saliva formed on my lips as I struggled to contain the words. Finally they burst out, like champagne forcing the cork of a bottle: “I love you, Goddess….”

She laughed. Oh, that sweet music. “That feels good, doesn’t it, puppet?”

It did. Dear God, it did. As if a dam had broken, I couldn’t stop. “I love you, Goddess….I love you, Goddess…I love you, Goddess….”

I woke up at noon with the receiver still in my hand.

I have to get back on the road. Keep moving.


Drove for forty hours straight under grey skies. No food. No sleep. Exhausted. This room is the worst yet, but I must rest.


I could sense bright sunlight outside the window when I finally woke up, and felt lifted. When I opened the blinds to let the sun in I saw a lipstick stain on the pillow next to where my head had lain all night. The scent of her perfume still lingered in the air. I grabbed my things and ran for the car, panicked.


Spent the day in a new room, glancing back and forth between the phone and the window, wondering. Finally hunger got the best of me. I had noticed a decent restaurant across the highway and walked over, hoping to get a good meal and a stiff drink.

A sharply dressed maitre d’ walked me to a table. She was seated there, waiting. Her green eyes followed me as I crossed the room and took the seat catty-corner to her.

“You look terrible, puppet.”

“I haven’t eaten for a while.”

“No, that’s not it. You’ve been denying yourself, but it’s not food that you need.” My eyes were cast down, avoiding her. “Look at me,” she said.

“Are you really here?”

“Does it matter?”

I had no answer for that. I looked at her, letting my eyes travel over her perfectly shaped legs, her ample breasts, her heartbreaking face. She had been right. The sight of her was indescribably satisfying. More nourishing than food.

“That’s better, puppet. Some of your color is returning.” She reached across and felt my cock through my jeans. It was ramrod stiff. “Oh, but poor baby. You’re bursting. You need some relief.”

I gazed into her eyes, lost in the feeling of her touch. She pursed her lips as if to kiss me. “Masturbate for me,” she ordered.

My body obeyed her command spontaneously. Before I realized what I was doing, I was kneeling on the floor before her, my pants open and my cock in hand.

I didn’t hear the screams of the other patrons or the crash of falling plates. The first thing I remember is being dragged toward the door by a waiter and a busboy, screaming, “Am I here? Is this a dream? Wait! Goddess? Goddess!…..”


I woke up just now in a gully after driving sixteen hours non-stop due west. I must have fallen asleep at the wheel. I have to continue. Every minute I’m apart from her is agony. I can’t be concerned with food or sleep until I am at her feet. I think the car will run. If I drive straight through, I can be in California in forty-eight hours. If I fall on my face and beg, she will take me as her slave again- she must. I’ve been foolish, I know, but she’ll see. I’ve suffered for my mistakes; I’ve learned my lesson.

Goddess. Oh, dear, Sweet Goddess….I finally understand. I know what freedom is.