A cloud of purple smoke billowed through the room, and as it cleared a green-skinned man stood in the center of the carpet, wearing a gold turban, a rose-pink vest, and white pantaloons. His dark black beard was trimmed to a sharp goatee.
“I am your servant, Mistress,” the man declared, pressing his palms together in greeting. “Ask any three wishes and I will grant them.” Read more…
I was woken by the soft touch of a gentle foot against the back of my neck. My first sensation was of being completely drained. I could remember nothing about the night before except the feeling of ecstasy. I had cum repeatedly, gasping and screaming, spilling what seemed like impossible buckets of semen. Read more…
This morning Goddess Marquesa granted me permission to perform the rite in worship of Her. I accepted Her gift eagerly. Gathering all of the necessary implements, I sat naked before my computer. Read more…
“Why have you come here?” Goddess Marquesa asked.
“I don’t know,” I answered, and it was the truth. She had agreed to a private meeting with me only after much pleading, but I could not identify the root of my pressing need. “The trance sessions I’ve had with you have been wonderful, but lately I don’t feel myself. Look…” I held up my hand, palm down. It trembled involuntarily. “I can’t make it stop. I have trouble sleeping. I can’t focus at work. What’s happening to me? Can you help me with this?” Read more…
It all started because of a bad review. An influential local blogger had panned my gallery exhibition the day after it opened. “Ivan Griel’s paintings lack depth and vibrancy,” the post began, and went downhill from there. It was the first time anyone had said or written anything so negative about my work, and it flummoxed me. Read more…
