“Goddess be praised, he’s alive,” a strange man’s voice declared as strong hands fished Edward out of the churning surf.

Edward hung limp as his body was dragged up the beach. The feeling of being on solid ground was strange. He had been airborne, shaken by a storm like a maraca in the fist of a mad dancer. After his plane ditched in the ocean and he swam free of the cabin, he had bobbed for hours like a cork tossed by crashing waves. A world that was suddenly not in constant motion in all three dimensions was now as jarring as it was pleasant.

“Where am I?” he gasped wetly, expelling brine from his lungs as he pushed the words from his diaphragm.

“She saved you,” came the reply. Edward heard the words faintly, as if through a thick wall. The voice became fainter as the speaker continued: “You reached Her island….”

Edward did not hear the rest. He had lost consciousness.


“Will he live?” a woman’s voice asked. Edward picked up the sound faintly, as if his ears were stopped with cotton. He was lying on what felt like an army cot. He forced his eyes open a crack and caught the blurred image of a man and woman standing next to his prone form, alone with him in what looked like a rustic infirmary.

“He sustained injuries in the crash, but his condition has stabilized,” the man, who was wearing a stethoscope around his neck, said. “He should recover.”

“Very good, doctor,” the woman replied. She was blond, about medium height and looked to be in her 50’s. She was dressed in a khaki shirt and khaki jodhpurs tucked into thigh-high leather boots. In her hand she held a riding crop. “Accept your reward,” she commanded.

At this order the doctor unbuttoned his shirt and removed it, laying it on a nearby table. Turning his back to the woman, he knelt on the ground and lowered his head. The woman raised her riding crop and brought it down on the doctor’s back, raising a red welt and making him flinch in pain. After five such strokes the woman raised her crop to her shoulder and declared, “That’s enough.”

“Thank you, Goddess,” the doctor gasped, his tone reverent. Still on his knees, he turned and bent to kiss the toes of the woman’s boots. “Thank you…thank you…” he murmured worshipfully between ardent kisses.

“Wha…wha’s going on?” Edward asked, his voice slurred. The man and woman simultaneously turned to look at him in surprise, startled by his momentary return to consciousness. Before either of them could answer, Edward fell back into darkness…


“Welcome back to the living,” the woman said as Edward’s eyes opened onto the world. She was sitting at the head of his bed, and from that close vantage Edward could see the striking green of her eyes. Sunlight streaming in through a window behind her showed him that he was still in the same, wood-paneled infirmary.

“Who are you?” Edward asked. “Where am I?”

“I am Goddess Marquesa,” the woman replied. “You are on My island. You’ve been unconscious for about three days. I know that your name is Edward Smith from the driver’s license we fished out of your pocket the night you washed ashore. But who, exactly, are you, and what were you doing out in that storm?”

“I am a free-lance journalist and an amateur pilot,” Edward explained. “I have been doing fly-overs in this region to investigate a series of mysterious disappearances. Over the past year vessels have begun to go missing in this vicinity. I was hoping to solve the puzzle and grab a scoop.”

Goddess Marquesa laughed. “You are certainly a study in commitment, Edward. Your scoop almost cost you your life. We were shocked to get your distress call. Almost no radio traffic penetrates this quadrant. Having the radio spark to life in the middle of a lethal storm was surreal. You are lucky to have received our homing signal.”

“What can I say?” Edward answered with a smile. “Free-lance journalism is a cutthroat gig. You have to take chances to make the big time.”

“Your chance may have paid off,” the Goddess declared. “I think you will find that your mystery is solved.”

“What do you mean?” Edward asked.

“Do you know how to ride a horse?”

Edward was surprised to have his question answered with another question, but after a moment replied, “Yes.”

“Good,” Goddess Marquesa said. “The doctor tells me you are fit for ordinary activity. Get dressed and meet me outside, we will take a ride together.”




When the doctor had outfitted Edward with some plain work clothes he walked outside the front of the infirmary and was met by the Goddess, seated atop a chestnut-brown mare. Another man stood by, holding the reins of a roan gelding. A breeze set the fronds of the surrounding palm trees waving and tousled the Goddess’s blond locks. She was dressed in a blue riding jacket, white trousers and black leather boots.

“Mount up and follow Me,” the Goddess commanded.

Edward followed the Goddess down a trail that led away from the clearing in which the infirmary was nestled, through the tropical forest that covered most of the island. After a few minutes the trail let out onto a beach, where four men and two women were working fishing nets in the surf.

“Most of our protein comes from the sea,” the Goddess yelled back at Edward over her shoulder as she approached the workers.

Seeing the Goddess draw near, the workers all dropped the nets and went prostrate on the ground, lowering their heads to the sand in reverence to Goddess Marquesa.

“Good morning, everyone!” the Goddess chimed.

“Good morning, Goddess!” the workers said in unison, though none of them raised their heads from the sand.

“Rise, everyone…” Goddess Marquesa instructed. “As you were.”

The workers rose to their feet, all beaming at Goddess Marquesa with looks of adoration and gratitude. “Beautiful Goddess!” and “All praise!” were softly uttered as the workers tentatively edged closer, like moths circling a seductive flame. Edward watched this abject worship in wonder. Goddess Marquesa was attractive, yes. She had a shapely figure, and moved with poise and grace. But she was not a young starlet or lanky fashion model. What was the secret of this spell she cast?

“How is it looking today, Frank?” the Goddess asked, addressing a tall, bald man who seemed to be the leader of the work crew.

“The shoal looks like it will yield a good catch, Goddess!” Frank replied. He was working shirtless, and Edward could see that his back was striped with red welts.

“Excellent!” the Goddess beamed, removing her left foot from its stirrup and extending it toward Frank.

“Thank You, Goddess!” Frank exclaimed, stepping forward to cradle the Goddess’s foot lovingly in his hands and kiss her boot tenderly.

“Carry on,” the Goddess commanded, withdrawing her foot and turning her horse inland.

As the workers returned to their nets, Goddess Marquesa trotted up the beach toward a path that led across some low scrubland. Edward sped up to reach her and pulled his horse alongside hers as they mounted the path.

“Who are those people?” Edward asked.

“They are Mine,” the Goddess replied enigmatically.


“My slaves,” the Goddess said with a provocative smile. Seeing Edward’s surprise at this declaration, she continued:  “Not ‘slaves’ in the old sense of ‘chattel.’ They have given themselves to Me out of yearning and devotion. They are My love-slaves.”

Edward shook his head in disbelief. “Wow. How did you acquire them?”

“In different ways,” the Goddess said.  “Some of them came to the island with Me. Frank, the man you saw kiss My boot, encountered Me on the internet, where I practiced as a celebrated Hypnodomme. He was a billionaire and originally owned this island. After the pandemic, he became disenchanted with worldly life. He gave Me this island and most of his other assets, so that he could live under Me as Goddess and Queen.”

As the Goddess spoke, the path she and Edward followed sloped upward, so that soon they came to the top of a high promontory. Below could be seen a shady bay, in which were anchored a small flotilla of ocean-going yachts and fishing boats.

“Here is the answer to your puzzle,” the Goddess declared.

“What do you mean?”

“These are your mysterious disappearances,” the Goddess explained. “Each of these vessels brought people to the island, all of whom landed and decided to stay and serve Me.”

Edward shook his head again. “I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it or not, as you like. It’s true.”

The Goddess pulled her horse’s reins and headed inland again, followed by Edward. The track plunged back into tropical forest, but emerged again soon into an area of cleared fields. Here about two dozen men and women were at work with hoes and shovels, tending to the crops growing in a system of rice paddies. As Goddess Marquesa rode by they fell prostrate in worship of her as had the workers on the beach.

“This must be some kind of practical joke,” Edward said, eliciting a sharp hiss of irritation from the Goddess.

“What don’t you understand about what you see?” asked Goddess Marquesa.

“How did you do this?” wondered Edward. “What makes these people serve you? Did you hypnotize them?”

“I’ve hypnotized them all at one point or another, but I can’t say whether that is why they serve. Most of them begged Me to hypnotize them before I ever did so. I did seduce them all, I suppose, though not always intentionally. They are slaves to their love and desire for Me.”

This brought the conversation to a pause. Edward and Goddess Marquesa continued along the path, which took them back into forest. As the shade engulfed them, Edward spoke again, curiosity mixed with wonder lending an edge to his voice.

“Are these people all your lovers?” he asked.

“No, not all. Many serve simply for the satisfaction of being near Me and being allowed to desire Me.”

Edward laughed involuntarily, drawing a cross look from the Goddess.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “It’s just that I can’t see the logic here. You are a very attractive woman, it’s true, but this….” As his words trailed off Edward made a sweeping gesture to indicate the whole island.

The track emerged from the forest into a large clearing where stood an old colonial manor house. The building was three stories high, with gabled roofs and a wrap-around sun porch. A man was stationed at the front entrance of the building, and after genuflecting to the Goddess he strode forward to receive the horses’ reins as she pulled her mare to a stop.

“I’ve been as candid with you as I can be,” Goddess Marquesa said as she dismounted from her horse. “I’m sorry if My information doesn’t satisfy you.”

“Please, don’t take this the wrong way,” Edward said, making an effort to be conciliatory as he dismounted his horse and surrendered it to the waiting groom. “You saved my life, I’ll never forget that. And one way or another, you have given me a terrific story. I’m just not sure how to frame this for an editor…”

“You mean,” Goddess Marquesa interjected, “you don’t know whether to believe that the people on this island are really My love-slaves.”

“Well…..” Edward stammered, trying to keep from further offending his host, “as a journalist I have to be thorough….”

“Of course,” the Goddess conceded. “Please, look around the island at your leisure. Talk to whomever you like. Then tonight you can join Me here at Diana House at dinner, and perhaps I can make you understand our situation here better.”


Edward spent the afternoon hiking around the island and speaking to its residents. He had lost his background notes when his plane crashed, but he recognized some of the names of those he encountered as those of missing travelers. None of them contradicted Goddess Marquesa.

As he questioned the islanders, Edward found a consistent pattern in their answers. Most of them had come across the island, which was largely uncharted, by accident, and landed out of curiosity, sometimes after making radio contact with the transmitter at Diana House. A few had shipwrecked or crashed like Edward. All told the same story of having fallen in love with Goddess Marquesa and decided to stay as her slaves. It had not occurred to any of them to notify anyone of their whereabouts. Since the island was off the grid and out of contact with the outside world, communicating with civilization would require a journey of several hundred miles, and no one was willing to be parted from the Goddess for so long.

As the sun began to set Edward was still hiking along one of the island paths. A man came running from the direction of the interior. Edward recognized him as the groom who had been stationed outside Diana House.

“The Goddess requests your presence at dinner,” the man said, bowing.

On being assured that it would not be necessary to change for dinner, Edward followed the man back to the large manor house to which he had ridden earlier in the day. The groom led Edward to the imposing front door, where he was greeted and bid enter by a tall man in butler’s livery. Inside, the mansion was sparsely but tastefully furnished. Cool interiors of dark teak wood were adorned by Chinese scroll paintings, classical Javanese sculpture, and vividly colorful tropical plants. The house was air-conditioned, but appeared empty except for three or four servants who (other than the butler) hovered quietly out of sight.

The butler led Edward into a spacious kitchen, where a large, covered silver platter sat on a central island. Pointing to the tray, the butler intoned, “Take this upstairs.”

Edward was confused by this request, but he lifted the tray, which was very heavy, and carried it back in the direction of the staircase that he and the butler had passed on their way to the kitchen. At the second-story landing a woman in French maid’s livery gestured for him to continue onto the third floor, where a similarly dressed maid pointed him toward a door to the left of the landing.

As Edward approached, straining under the weight of the tray, the maid sprang ahead to knock on the door. Hearing the Goddess order, “Come in,” the maid turned the doorknob and stepped aside to let Edward enter.

The room was a spacious boudoir. On one side was a canopy bed, straight ahead a large and well-appointed vanity table. Dressers and chests lined the walls. Opposite the bed stood a small wet bar equipped with spirits and serving vessels. A carafe of red wine stood atop the bar, ready to serve.

Goddess Marquesa was seated at a small dining table in the very center of the large space.  She wore a lacy black bra, black panties, black stockings and garters, over which was draped a long see-through black gossamer night robe, left open at the front. On her feet were black patent-leather stilettos. Her legs were crossed and she faced the door, giving Edward a full view of the lines and curves of her form.

“Put that tray on the bar,” the Goddess directed.

Edward set the tray down as he was instructed, relieved to be free of its weight. “What’s for dinner?” Edward asked.

“I’ll be having steak,” Goddess Marquesa answered.

Edward looked at the dining table and noticed that it was set for one. “Where do I sit?” he complained.

“You mistook My invitation,” the Goddess explained. “When I asked you to join Me for dinner I was summoning you to serve Me. W/we will not be dining together.”

Edward grunted in offended shock. “Serve you?” he blurted. “What makes you think I would do that?”

“When in Rome, pet,” the Goddess declared. “Serving Me is a coveted privilege on this island. If you don’t want to, well…fine….Go away. There are many eager to take your place.”

At this the Goddess fell silent and faced Edward, waiting. Edward shuffled uncomfortably in place, unsure how to respond. Part of him wanted to tell this “Goddess” to stuff herself and storm out of the room. But he couldn’t act on that impulse. At first he thought it was just embarrassment, an instinct not to be impolite. But as his mouth went dry and he swayed mutely, staring at Goddess Marquesa, he realized that embarrassment was not what was holding him. Part of him wanted to stay. He found he could not take his eyes off of her.

The Goddess broke the impasse. “I take it from your silence that you have agreed to serve,” she declared.

“Okay,” said Edward in a petulant tone, secretly relieved to have his internal deadlock resolved. With a brusque turn he made to uncover the serving tray set down on the bar.

“Wait!” Goddess Marquesa commanded, holding up her hand in a gesture of restraint. “Take off your clothes.”

“What?” Edward asked.

“You heard Me,” Goddess Marquesa declared. “I don’t want My dinner ruined by the sight of those ugly work clothes. Take them off.”

“I was told I didn’t have to change for dinner,” Edward complained.

“You were told right. You don’t have to change. You have to strip. Do it.”

As she finished speaking the Goddess pulled herself up very straight in her chair and placed both hands, right above the left, on her knee, assuming a posture of expectant command. When Edward continued to hesitate she lifted her right hand and snapped her fingers twice in quick succession, loudly.

Edward was mortified, but he found he still could not leave. Goddess Marquesa sat silently, waiting. Her luminous green eyes gazed at him serenely, her mouth was set in a Mona Lisa smile. Edward could feel an energy radiating off of her, as if her will was filling the room and pressing against everything it contained, including him. Without understanding why he did so, he slowly began to unbutton the front of his shirt. In another minute he stood naked.

Seeing Edward had complied, Goddess Marquesa turned her chair toward the table, and pointed to her lap. She held this pose steadily, waiting.

“I don’t understand. What do you want?” Edward asked.

Slowly the Goddess rose from her chair and walked over to Edward. With sudden speed she slapped him across the face, hard enough to make him momentarily dizzy. The pain was excruciating.

“I prefer to eat in silence,” the Goddess declared, her tone quiet but stern. “You will not speak unless spoken to. Pay attention and follow My direction.”

Goddess Marquesa sat back in her chair and again pointed at her lap. Edward clutched his jaw for a moment, trying to quell the pain and break through his disorientation. He was angry, resentful. But he still could not make himself leave.

Realization dawned. Picking up the napkin that was folded on the table, Edward laid it carefully in Goddess Marquesa’s lap. Bending down to accomplish his task, he could not help breathing deeply of the Goddess’s perfume or letting his gaze linger over her shapely thighs.

The Goddess pointed to the small fork on the outside of her place setting. Walking over to the tray and lifting its cover, Edward could see what he was summoned to serve. He set a small plate of green salad in front of the Goddess.

The meal proceeded with the steady rhythm of a silent dance. The food had been prepared with exquisite care. It looked and smelled delicious. The Goddess ate each bite with relish, so absorbed in the sensual pleasure of dining that Edward might not exist. He, meanwhile, could not take his focus from her. Her hands. Her mouth. The rise and fall of her breasts as she swallowed and breathed. The graceful arc of her fingertip as she tapped her glass to demand more wine.

Edward followed every forkful and sip as it traveled to the Goddess’s lips. His heartbeat sped and slowed to the rhythm of her chewing and swallowing. It seemed to him that she ate more and more slowly, but that could not be. The audible ticking of a clock on the wall showed that her pace did not alter. What had changed was his consciousness. As Edward became ever more absorbed in the Goddess’s eyes, lips, teeth, and tongue, time seemed to stretch.

Finally Edward placed dessert in front of the Goddess: a small silver dish of blackberry compote set in a dollop of custard. When it was on the table, Goddess Marquesa looked up directly at Edward for the first time since the meal had begun. His breath caught in his throat as he anticipated what she might say, but she only lifted her napkin with slow, deliberate movements and wiped the corner of her lips. Then she laid the napkin aside on the table and opened her mouth wide, looking at him expectantly, her jaw relaxed, her lips parted.

After a moment of confusion Edward understood. He picked up the small dessert spoon from the place setting and dipped it into the custard, lifting it toward Goddess Marquesa’s mouth. His hand trembled as the spoon passed her lips. His heart skipped beats as she savored the mouthful and licked her lips in pleasure.

His trembling increased as the Goddess opened her mouth again and he dipped the spoon once more into the dish. His cock was very hard, his own mouth hung open as his breathing became labored from arousal. Edward fought to keep his hand steady as the spoon approached the Goddess’s lips. Suddenly, he felt a jolt. While he had been focused on her mouth the Goddess had moved her right hand subtly, brushing her fingernails lightly against the bottom of his testicles. The spoon shook violently, spilling its contents onto the Goddess’s left thigh.

“Clumsy pet,” the Goddess said through a wry smile, “look at the mess you’ve made.”

Edward lost control. Throwing the spoon aside, he fell to his hands and knees and began lapping custard and compote from the Goddess’s perfect thigh. For a few moments he was in ecstasy, like a dog gorging on a stolen treat. Then his world became pain as a strong hand gripped his hair and pulled him roughly from the floor.

With swift agility the Goddess rose from her chair and dragged Edward off his knees. Pushing the chair back from the table, she forced Edward into it seated backwards, with his chest facing the chair back. Edward winced and hissed in agony as he was maneuvered into this position, and was unprepared when he felt the Goddess’s full weight press him from behind. She had mounted the chair behind him, so that her pelvis and thighs drove his hips forward, and her breasts squeezed his torso against the chair back. When he was pinioned the Goddess released Edward’s hair and reached around him to something dangling from the joint at the top of the chair’s leg. Before he could make out what was happening he heard two “clicks,” as first his left hand and then his right were secured in locking manacles attached to a chain threaded around the lower back of the chair, handcuffing him in place with his hands at his side.

“What…what are you doing?” Edward gasped in equal parts fear and confusion.

“Shhhhh pet,” came the Goddess’s moist words in his ear. “Remember you may only speak when spoken to.”

A cloth covered Edward’s eyes- the napkin that he had lain in the Goddess’s lap. She now tied it as a blindfold so that his world went dark. Edward heard a snapping sound and realized that the Goddess had removed her bra, because when she leaned forward he could feel her bare breasts pressing into the naked flesh of his back.

He gasped as a cool, wet sensation engulfed his nipples. Goddess Marquesa had dipped her fingers into the custard of her dessert and was using it as lubrication to massage his sensitive areolae. An electric current of pleasure spread through his pectoral muscles and travelled down his spine to his cock, groin, and haunches.

Edward’s back arched involuntarily, and he made as if to speak, but before he could utter a word another tidal wave of feeling melded with the pleasure that already had him in its grips. The Goddess pressed her mouth against the nape of his neck, and began to lick and suck moistly with practiced lips and a nimble tongue. The sheer power of the stimulus was overwhelming. Every nerve of Edward’s body was aroused and relaxed all at once. His muscles turned to butter. His cock twitched and wept.

He heard a low moaning sound and realized it was coming from deep within his abdomen. The groan of bliss began before he realized he was making it, and once he heard the sound he was powerless to stop. He had become a musical instrument, and the Goddess was playing him with the skill of a virtuoso. Her tongue and lips found every sensitive nerve and ganglion in his neck and shoulders, and stroked each with the perfect motion to elicit ecstasy. All the while the fragrance of her perfume, the pressure of her magnificent breasts against his back, and the soft, moist sounds of her licking and sucking drove Edward made with arousal.

He lost all sense of time. She might have held him prisoner this way for ten minutes or ten hours, he could not have said for sure. Finally, her lips left his neck as her fingers pinched his nipples cruelly, turning his moan of pleasure into a wincing hiss of pain.

“You’ve been a bad boy,” the Goddess whispered into his ear. “Let Me hear you confess.”

“Yes,” Edward agreed. “I’ve been a bad boy.”

The Goddess pinched harder, increasing the pain. “Try again,” she commanded.

“I’ve been a bad boy, Goddess,” Edward pleaded. “I shouldn’t have laughed. I should have believed You. Please forgive me, Goddess!”

The Goddess relaxed her grip but kept her mouth pressed to Edward’s ear. “What must We do to bad boys?” she asked.

“You must punish me, Goddess,” Edward answered. “Beat me, please! Thrash me like You have thrashed Your slaves, Goddess!”

The Goddess laughed. “Silly pet,” she explained. “Beatings are rewards on My island. There is only one kind of punishment here, and yours has already begun.”

With these words the Goddess resumed kissing and sucking Edward’s neck, sending him back into paroxysms of bliss. As he surrendered to the feeling the Goddess reached around, seized the shaft of his rigidly erect cock, which jutted through the open back of the chair, and began to stroke. Edward’s mind dissolved into a puddle of molten pleasure, his body yielded to the control of the Goddess’s mouth and hand. Again time warped, space bent and twisted.

When Edward finally came, every muscle on his body went taught, his mind shattered into bright fragments of joy. The torrent left him so drained that if the Goddess’s body had not been holding him up, he would have collapsed out of the chair. A groan of blissful satisfaction erupted from him as he hung limp, content to leave the control of his limbs to Goddess Marquesa.

“Now I can finish your punishment properly,” the Goddess whispered in Edward’s ear. “Relax while I unlock your cuffs, Then you will take one of the boats in the bay and go tell your story to your journalist friends.”

“No, please, Goddess!” Edward gasped. “i need to be close to You just a little longer. Don’t send me away, i beg You.”

“What would you have Me do instead, pet?” came the Goddess’s whispered reply.

The feeling of the Goddess’s silky voice seeping deliciously into his ear gave Edward an epiphany. “Hypnotize me, please, Goddess!” he begged. “i need You deep inside me. Take me now, i beg You!”

“Well all right, pet,” the Goddess agreed, a tone of mischievous laughter in her words, “but for My mercy you will have to be a very good boy. Now relax and listen to My voice….”



Six weeks later Diana House received another distress signal in the midst of a violent storm. Five men and two women braved the driving wind and rain to patrol the beach in the direction of the SOS. Suddenly one of them cried out.

“There it is!”

A bright orange life raft was drifting in the surf, driven toward the beach by the raging waves.

The group ran forward as the raft touched shore. Three pairs of hands lifted a prone man from the vessel, the others dragged the raft up the beach.

“Where am I?” the castaway asked, his face a mask of exhaustion and relief.

“You’ve reached Her island, friend,” Edward answered. “Goddess be praised, She saved you….”





The End