One dreary, overcast autumn weekday morning finds Goddess Marquesa puttering around Her house. Well, not so much puttering as attending to mundane (read non-fetish) business that, to Her, seems as dreary as the weather outside. Exciting? No, far from it. She expressed Her feelings about this work when She once admonished a subject who innocently inquired what She was up to, replying crossly, “I don’t have time to sit around all day in black leather, eating bonbons and playing with sex toys. Sometimes, things need to be done!” Her choice of clothing, no surprise, is entirely congruent with accomplishing mundane but necessary tasks; She’s comfortably attired in a blue pastel cotton blouse, casually knotted around Her waist, a pair of cut-off jeans, and flip flops. Decidedly non-fetish apparel, but having spent the last two hours paying bills and fine tuning a couple of balky links on Her website, She’s not in a fetish mood. Bored, cranky, stifling a yawn, and needing a break, Marquesa is heading to the kitchen for a much needed cup of coffee when Her doorbell rings. Sighing deeply, She wonders, Now, who could that be? Read more…
Entries by Anonymous
POSTSCRIPT
Five minutes after receiving Her command, and exactly as Marquesa had ordered, Her inadvertent dinner host feels waking consciousness gradually returning. Foggily, he emerges from his dream, his eyes flutter open, his vision and equilibrium begin to restore themselves, and, sluggishly, he begins to gather his wits. At present, everything he sees seems to be taking place in slow motion. Looking reflexively to his left where Marquesa had just been sitting, he dully notes that the place next to him had been set for dinner and, apparently, used, because Her dessert dish hasn’t yet been picked up. Next, his glance falls on his own dessert dish, which remains untouched. Upon seeing it, he looks around to catch a glance at whomever must have been seated next to him. In the distance, he catches the briefest glimpse of the interesting lady who had invited him earlier to join Her in the corner as She passes out of view, and the moment he lays his eyes on Her, his mind quickens, and, simultaneously, a sudden inner voice commands him to pay the meal bill. Read more…
“Veerrry Goood!!!…YOUR RESPONSE GREATLY..PLEASES MEE!” She gives his cock an extra sensual squeeze to punctuate Her message. Never hurts to leave him with a little positive reinforcement, She thinks. But now, time to cease projecting Her Powwerr and move on. Without taking off Her gloves, She starts to remove Her napkin from Her lap, but then She pauses, as a thought comes to Her. She turns toward Her subject. “EYYE am going to leave now,” She transmits. “Farewell, My Pet. You have PLEASE!d MEE! more than you can know. Read more…
Still, there remains one final detail, one last demonstration of Her Power, to manifest. “MYY PET,” She transmits, using this term of address for the first time, indicating as much fondness for a subject as She can summon up, “OUR EVENING IS COMING TO AN END…But before it does..EYYE WANT YOU..TO..JOIN ME IN A TOAST TO CELEBRATE OUR ENCOUNTER. YOU WILL..OPEN YOUR EYES!..AND REMAIN DEEP a-SLEEP!!” Read more…
To the gentle, rhythmic stimulus of Her subject’s hand in Her lap, Marquesa’s body reflexively begins to respond. Contracting gently, Her pelvis begins to move in synchrony with his ministrations, so naturally that this movement happens at the very edge of Her sensory awareness — if She senses it at all — and Her body from Her kneecaps up to Her navel begins to move in and out in the same rhythm. Certainly, Marquesa has placed Herself a mood that is most receptive for dessert. Read more…
