Tag: Eyes


Marquesa worked her hands down his back, squeezing the muscles, kneading away the tension.  He lay on the massage table, a white fluffy towel wrapped around his waist.  She sighed as her fingers dug in.  She hoped he would tell her that she could stop soon.  Her hands were sore.  Until then she would keep going.  She had to.  He owned her. Read more…

A New Beginning, to Serve Marquesa

As I knocked I heard a giggle, or maybe a wicked smile breaking forth through the silence.

“Come in, I have been waiting for you. Because today is going to be a new beginning for you, my pup-pet,” Cooed Marquesa.


I entered warily, not knowing what to expect. My heart was bashing against my chest so loud that i could barely hear M’Lady’s commands. Stunned into silence by the beauty of Marquesa as she revealed herself from out of the corner. My knees went weak. i fell to the ground and knelt before Her glorious presence. my mind was aflutter with thoughts of unworthiness. Suddenly my world stopped as the cool, calming presence of Her velvety soft hand lifted my chin upwards. i was now staring into Marquesa’s glorious green gaze! Blissful revelation danced between my nerve endings.

The longer i stared, the more i realized that only Marquesa could make my mind dance so beautifully! First a tango, then a foxtrot and ended with wickedly wonderful waltz of wonderment. Then She let my chin go and my head bowed in subservience to Her, awaiting Her next wish.

A flashing finger pointed to Her toes and i began kissing, licking, and lightly sucking each toe till She shooed me away.

“To the room slut…  I want you naked in position one before I get there!” She decreed. “Oh and by the way, I have an outfit for you, it will define who you are and always will be when you are in my presence!”

i crawled down the narrow, dimly lit hallway. Knees aching from the tile, mind a blur from Her dominance over me. i began thinking why, oh why was i even here. This is going to be my demise i just know it.

As i turned the corner i could see a black box on Her Altar. i stripped off my clothes, folded them and neatly placed them in the corner with whatever will i had left. i was Hers, not just in fantasy but in reality. Marquesa owned me, She had always known it, i just wasn’t ready to accept my fate.

Kneeling near the altar i got into position One, back and head straight, palms up, eyes down, mouth shut and mind completely open. Waiting for what seemed like an eternity, i dimly heard the click of Her heels on the tile. Then slowly something was being dragged on the floor by her side, a whip, or crop? The clicking became louder, i have to say that is one of the most seductive sexy sounds i have ever heard. i knew that with each click, Marquesa was coming closer to implementing Her will over mine. i wasn’t forced, this is a violation of my rights… Rather it is an enlightenment of my being, realizing my purpose here on earth… being Her slave. i don’t know if She knew this, but could i hide anything from Her…heck i had a hard time surprising Her with gifts. i digress…

Marquesa strolled into the room. Her crop caressed my arm, sliding across my shoulder, up my neck across my cheek and stopped in front of my lips. “Kiss my crop!” She demanded. i kissed and kissed. “Enough, face to the ground. I don’t want you to see your surprise till I can see the look on your face when you embrace this lovely gift I am bestowing on you.”

“Thank You Marquesa! Thank You for this privilege!” i stuttered.

Marquesa giggling, “Privilege, yes, that is just how you will think of it as from now on…”

i heard the rustling of paper as She opened the box. There was an enticing aroma, quite feminine, but pleasant. “Turn and embrace your new life… slave!” Marquesa’s words were so powerful and arousing that i became rock hard complicating my turning to face my new destiny.

“Head up and look at your new outfit, your Maid’s outfit! Or I should be more accurate, your French Maids dress, corset, hat, gloves and heels!” She wickedly laughed.

i was crushed. i didn’t know what to think. me in a frilly, tight French Maids outfit with matching shoes and gloves. my will was gone, but i was completely aroused, Marquesa had me completely. She had taken my will, my body and mind and made them Her’s. She controlled what i thought, how i reacted and now what i wore and my occupation. i was now becoming a permanent part of Her world and She loved it!

“Well, my little girly-boy, put it on… mustn’t keep your Goddess waiting.” She snickered. “What’s the matter? Don’t you know how to put on your outfit? Well, I can help with that… In fact it would be My pleasure to lace you up!”

The corset was tight and pinched, the shoes were unbearable too small, too high, and much too wobbly. The gloves fit, the hat was too small, the nylons felt wonderful, but were tight in all the wrong places. The dress fit me and made Marquesa laugh and sigh with how i had been completely changed to becoming Her’s.

As Marquesa explained the intricacies of my cleaning duties, my clouded mind finally became clear. As i wobbled to the laundry room to get the bucket and rags to hand mop the floor, i saw the light. i saw the most beautiful scenario, it was unimaginable, but there it was right in front of me.

Instantly my demeanor changed. i began to whistle a little tune as i got down on my hands and knees and scrubbed Her bathroom floor. i was serving Marquesa! i was her domestic! She picked me to scrub Her floors, dust her furniture, do Her laundry…. i was Maid to Serve Marquesa!

Now every time i visit Marquesa, She has a “honey do list” for Her French Maid. It usually has me on my knees scrubbing the floors, which i believe it my place in Her world. Maybe i could surprise Her by learning French, or how to cook French Cuisine…



            Swami Kamiprajna settled himself onto his devotional cushion, anticipating the arrival of his new disciple. She had been coming to hear his teachings for several weeks now, and she showed all the signs that she was ready. She followed his every word with rapt attention, and looked at him with wide, glistening eyes through the chanting service when his lecture was concluded.

            Last week, at the conclusion of his talk about “watering the flower of wisdom within,” she had worked up the courage to pose a question. “Is it possible,” she had asked breathlessly, seemingly overcome by awe, “for me…I mean for someone…to overcome sensual desire?” That was when he knew that he could summon her for a private “interview”. Read more…

The Proven Path Step 1; A Review of Mistress Marquesa’s Introductory Tape

August Derleth wrote a short sci-fi story I read when I was a teenager. I don’t remember the title, but it was about this beautiful alien who shows up on earth all by herself. Whenever she meets someone, invariably male, who stands in the way of her goal of world conquest, she hands him this stone she’s carrying. It is so pleasant to the touch, the man automatically begins to stroke it. The sexy alien talks to him about how pleasant the stone feels. I’ll bet you can’t imagine what happens as she does so.

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! This tape could be the latest model of that stone!

The amount of material on the tape is formidable, especially considering it’s only 30 minutes— though you’ll swear it seems to go by in 5. Read more…

A Lesson in Manners

            Bill glanced at his Rolex as he entered the coffee shop; he was in a rush to get to the office as usual. The tables were crowded with customers, but the line was not too long this morning, about five people. He would be pushing his luck, but he dreaded facing a day of client interviews and meetings without his morning latte. He took his place at the end of the line.

            She was there again, two customers ahead of him. Recognizing her gave Bill a pang of annoyance. On Monday they had had an altercation. He had been running particularly late that morning, and had shouldered to the head of the line. The others on line didn’t make a peep, but she had turned out to be pretty feisty. First she had scolded him for his bad manners. When he had tried to give her the brush off (“Look, lady, I’m in a rush….”) instead of clamming up she had gotten angry. What had she called him? A boor? A jackass? Anyway, it had been a lot of trouble to get a freaking latte. Read more…


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