A Dominatrix died. After passing through a bright light she found  Herself on a beautiful tropical island just like ones She had visited in vacations on earth, but instead of being surrounded by a sea of water it was surrounded by a sea of clouds. She was alone on the island but for one man. He was naked, his head shaved, and manacled securely, bent over a wooden frame with his ass in the air and a ball gag in his mouth.

Next to the man was a rack of various whips and other implements of torment. Selecting a riding crop the Dominatrix worked it on the man’s ass for a few strokes. It caused him great pain, but any marks that She inflicted disappeared right away.

“What fun!” She cried.

After an hour or so of beating the man she got bored and felt hungry.  Releasing him from the wooden frame, She commanded, “Go make me some dinner!”

An hour later she found the man roasting a bird over a spit, having made a fire on the beach.

Slap! She struck the man across the face with the flat of Her hand. “Fool! I’m a vegetarian!” She shouted.

After a lovely meal of grilled fruits and nuts, She felt sleepy and had the man make her a bed of soft palm fronds. She had him lie still and cover himself with soft leaves so that she could use his ass a pillow.

The next morning another man was manacled and gagged on the “A-frame.” She played with him for a while, beating him with canes and lashes. Removing his ball gag, she thrashed him with a cat-of-nine-tails while he sucked the cock of the man She had used as a pillow. When pillow-man came She forced them to trade places, and when each had blown a load into the other’s mouth she sent them off to build a shelter for Her and make Her another meal.

Time went by this way for several months. Every morning a new man would appear on the frame, and the Dominatrix would set him to work. Eventually there were so many men on the island that She was able to command them to build Her a palace, where she reigned as Queen. Slaves fanned Her as She lounged on Her throne, being fed grapes and watching men, oiled down and glistening, wrestling for the privilege to be Her bed slave that night, so that they could eat Her pussy or take Her strap-on up the ass.

One day She was being carried along the beach on Her sedan chair, followed by a group of men singing a song that one of them had composed about Her gorgeous beauty, when she saw a strange sight in the sky. It was a woman with golden wings, flying along playing a silver harp.

“Could that be?” She thought. “Yes….it must be…it’s an angel!”

“Halt!” She ordered Her sedan-chair slaves. “Shut up!” She commanded the choir of worshippers.

.                “Hey, you!” She shouted at the angel. “Come down here! I want to talk to you!”

The angel flew down to the beach, a serene smile on her face.

“How can I help You, Mistress?” the angel asked.

“I’m curious,” the Dominatrix said. “Is this Heaven?”

“Of course it is,” the angel answered, still smiling.

“That seems strange….” The Dominatrix mused. “You see, back on earth I did some questionable things. In my vanilla job I embezzled almost a million dollars from a company owned by this sexist pig I worked for. I meant to give it back, but I never got the chance before my sudden death. I’m surprised that despite my peccadillos I have come to Heaven.”

The angel furrowed her brow uncomfortably, and stuttered, “I-I-I’m sorry, Mistress…You misunderstand.” Gesturing to the men standing all around, listening wide-eyed, the angel explained, “This is Heaven for them.”

The End