The First Thanksgiving

The First Thanksgiving

 

a Thanksgiving tale conceived by Goddess Marquesa

 

“Welcome, ladies, and Happy Thanksgiving!” Goddess Marquesa said, smiling broadly as she raised her glass of wine to toast her two guests. All three women were seated around a dining room table set to receive a bountiful feast.

“Thank you!” Raven replied, clinking her glass against the Godess’s. Raven was a tall black-haired beauty, and had worn a bright red dress that accentuated the classic curves of her body, to mark the occasion. She batted long lashes at the Goddess and sipped prettily from her glass.

“You are the Hostess with the mostest!” Crimson chimed in, clinking her glass first against Raven’s, then against that of the Goddess. Her long red hair ran past her shoulders over her grey blouse and short green skirt. Shiny patent-leather black boots showed off the contours of her athletic legs. “I was so surprised to receive your invitation to Thanksgiving! Getting to spend this holiday with you is really special!”

Goddess Marquesa set her glass down and favored her guests with a warm smile. “You two girls are my besties,” she explained. “I could have celebrated Thanksgiving with anyone, but I wanted this year to be special.” Read more…

Picking up the Tab (Chapter Four)

             “In a moment..YOUR EYES WILL OPEN! — Your EYES will OPEN but you will..REMAIN DEEP a-SLEEP!!…In fact, by opening your eyes, you will only..SEND YOURSELF STILL DEEEPER a-SLEEEP!!Yeeesss!!!AND NOWW…OPEN YOUR EYES!! — OPEN YOUR EYES!…As your eyes open YOU ONLY..GO DEEEPER a-SLEEEP!!!…EVEN DEEPER a-SLEEEP!!…AND YOU WILL..RAISE YOUR LEFT ARM…IF YOUR EYES ARE OPEN..YOU WILL..RAISE YOUR LEFT ARM!!”  Sure enough, his arm rises.   Seeing it rise prompts a flood of juices to Marquesa’a pussy.  Veerrry Goood!!!”   She is gloating, gloating in delight, gloating over Her Power, over Her Power over him, gloating over the way things in general are transpiring.    “NOW LOWER YOUR LEFT ARM!…LOWER YOUR LEFT ARM!…Veeerrry Gooood!!!…NOW STAND UP, STAND UP…”  Slowly, stiffly, he stands.  “That’s Right!!…AND NOW PICK UP YOU GLASS…TAKE CARE TO KEEP IT FROM SPILLING…Veerrry Goood!!!….

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Monster Mash

Monster Mash

A Halloween story based on Goddess Marquesa’s past and future exploits

 

                “Why do we need professional help?” I asked as we approached the store. The sign over the door read “Maison Fantastique” in bold crimson letters on an amber background.

                “Because W/we need to match perfectly,” she replied, without turning to face me. I held the door open for her and she breezed into the boutique regally, explaining, “I want to win tonight’s costume contest at the BDSM Halloween Ball.”

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PICKING UP THE TAB (Chapter 3)

                      Eager to begin, Marquesa puts Her glass down, focuses Her attention completely on Her prey, and begins to send him telepathic commands.   “BECOME DROWSY!…RELAX!!…REST!…SLEEP!”  These thought messages, short and sweet, sound like something from Hypnotism Made E-Z — comic book hypnosis — but in Her earlier ‘laboratory trials’, short-and-sweet seemed to outperform long-and-involved messages.  At first, Her quarry seems oblivious to the thoughts She sends his way, but She’s not easily deterred.  Besides, She tells Herself, the night is still young.
She knows this is much like fishing — sometimes it takes a while before you get that first bite.  Minute after minute, eyes and mind focused on Her prey and concentrating intently, She continues on.  Once again, as though he senses Her energy, senses Her closeness, he looks back again in Her direction.  Owing to Her darkened corner, He doesn’t register Her presence, but the fact that he looks around suggests to Her that he’s still alert, so if he’s responding to Her commands as She’d hoped, it’s not apparent.  Realizing something is amiss, She stops and realizes She needs to regroup.  “Grasshopper!” She thinks, “You have yet much to learn before you attain true Mastery. Time to start over.  Back to basics…”

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PICKING UP THE TAB (Chapter 2)

The maitre d’ leads a young couple to a nearby table.  Her glance drawn instinctively to movement, Marquesa casually follows their progress.  By the looks of them, She guesses, Married. His dress seems a bit too shabby to come here often, so he’s taking her to dinner?…Celebrating something, perhaps? — a salary increase, an anniversary, her birthday?…Nice enough but Boring.

 

Swiftly tiring of them, Her glance swings back to the bar, and, suddenly, Her pulse quickens and Her eyes narrow.  Moving to an unoccupied high table off to one side of the bar is a youngish man, in his early to mid-30’s…at first glance, very good looking.  She watches him intently as he moves from the bar to a table under an overhead light, a fresh drink in hand, Scotch, by the loom of it.  During the few seconds in which he seats himself, he unknowingly presents Her with a clear view of his face, and instantly, She likes what She sees:  Trim, tallish — maybe 6’2″, well dressed — much better dressed than the fellow just seated — sandy haired, handsome and knows it, moves with the easy self-assurance of an alpha male.

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