“What happened to me?” I asked. The question was very urgent. I found myself naked, standing in a large muddy field full of other naked men. The others all seemed to be engaged in some kind of construction project, and if my sudden appearance among them surprised them, they showed no sign to that effect.
“You died,” Goddess Marquesa answered. “This is the afterlife.”
That answer didn’t really sink in right away. I was too disoriented by my surroundings and by the presence of Goddess Marquesa, who was as gorgeous as I remembered her being. She wore a short black dress that showcased her perfect breasts and legs. Her green eyes held mine magnetically. Though she was standing in black stilettos in the mud, none of the dirt had soiled any part of her clothes, shoes or body Read more…
In reply, Larry’s anguished cries only grow louder, bringing forth to Marquesa’s face Her most joyfully sadistic smile and causing Her to increase the stimulation of Her subject, with special emphasis on the cock, causing him increasing agony, more pain, and more suffering — even as She elevates Herself further into Her own special Nirvana. Feeling Her subject shudder and tremble beneath Her as She continues to administer Her special stimulation, Marquesa truly is in Her element, and Her pussy now is running like the Mississippi in flood season. She can feel Her subject’s pain through the increasing violence of his struggles and his mental agony, borne of not knowing when — or even if — this seeming hell will end, and through eyes raised upward, and with practiced clinical awareness, She cruelly, expertly — and malevolently — gauges his tolerance for added stimulation. Loving and savoring every milli-second of Her subject’s agony, SEXXX!-ual Ecstasy flows and SEXXX!-ual Energy surges throughout Her body, from the top of Her head to the tips of Her fingers and toes.
Embedded deeply within the male consciousness rests the innate ability to sense the dynamic, pulsing energy of Dominant Feminine Power, together equally with the inherent longing — and the deep-seated need — of all men to submit, to yield to it, to serve it. For this Power to activate and command such a deep-seated, instinctive yearning, it must clearly draw upon an energy of enormous potency. But how does one sense this life force? There is a paradoxical aspect to My answer, because, for most men, the perception of Feminine Power is so subtle that it takes place far beneath their conscious awareness. Feminine Power can be neither felt, heard, nor seen, nor tasted or smelled — yet so compelling is its strength that, once they sense it, men feel positively driven to respond to it — instinctively, reflexively, unknowingly. So powerful is this life force that when men come to a Woman endowed with Dominant Feminine Power, their awareness and attention center on Her instantly, from way down deep inside, pushing aside all other desires and needs, and there wells up within them the need — nay, the driving compulsion — to please Her, to serve Her, to obey Her. For many men, this driving, inborn compulsion to serve and obey is accompanied by deeply held and vigorously suppressed sexual fantasies, which, following exposure to Dominant Feminine Energy, spontaneously bubble up from the nether recesses of their psyche.
My Art on My Terms
