I first saw her shortly after I was elected Mayor of this Florida West Coach beach town. She was stunning in a bright pink sun dress that hugged her curves and showed her magnificent breasts and shapely legs to devastating effect. The desire began with that first glance, but I had no idea how intense it would become. It was a sunny day and she was wearing sunglasses, so I would only be hit by her piercing green eyes later, when we had dinner in the evening. Those witchy eyes on top of her exquisite face, luscious form, and gorgeous blond tresses were almost too much to bear.

“Mr. Mayor, you’re staring,” she quipped from the table next to mine at the outdoor café at which we were both loitering. She was lingering over a magazine and a glass of what looked like iced tea. I was having little success trying to focus on a novel on my e-reader while I drank a latte.

She was teasing, but she was absolutely right. I had allowed myself to become so absorbed in the contemplation of her that I had forgotten all decorum. The way my eyes had fixated on her curves and begun traveling up and down her thrilling body might fairly be described as “ogling.”

I didn’t lose my cool, which I think impressed her. I smiled through a gentlemanly apology, with a quick wink to signal that, while I meant no disrespect, the visual appreciation had been heartfelt. We flirted across the gap between tables for a few minutes, and then she invited me to join her. As I did I had no idea how much my situation resembled that of the fly walking along the axial thread of the spider’s web or the moth flying ever closer to the flame.

We chatted over coffee and found that we had a lot in common: similar upbringings, similar wanderings, similar taste in movies, art, and books. I’m a few years older than her, but not enough to make our romance scandalously inappropriate, and I look good for a man my age. Fairly fit, with a full head of hair. My wife had passed away five years ago, and my kids are all grown and living in far flung places. Even if I hadn’t been elected mayor, all those other qualities would have made me a very eligible bachelor in this town. I could see looks of envy directed at her from many of the women seated around us as we flirted. But the jealous looks of the men were even more intense. She….well, it became immediately clear that she was the most enchanting woman I had ever met. I had to work not to gush over her like a lovestruck schoolboy.

That first day of whirlwind romance stirred up a lot of gossip. When she appeared on my arm at a fancy restaurant in town that night we were marked as West Florida’s new “power couple.” We were a steady item for a couple of weeks. We dated like teenagers. Trips to the movies. Long walks through the park. Miniature golf. Dancing. Then things took a….turn.

“Come in,” she invited me outside her door at the end of our umpteenth date. I was pleased but not overly surprised. I had given her every sign of my eager desire. The arm around her shoulder in the movie theater. Lingering good night kisses. Hand-holding in the park. But I hadn’t pressed her on that score. I trusted that she would take us down that path in her own good time, and though she turned me on like no one I had ever met, I was enjoying her company too much to feel impatient.

So when we were finally on her living room sofa, making out like we had just gotten out of our high school prom, I gave myself over to the experience freely. I didn’t call her attention to my painfully rigid erection, I just let the waves of desire wash through me while I enjoyed the taste of her mouth, the fragrance of her perfume, and the silky warmth of her skin. The delicious haze might have gone on for another hour, except that I reached up to stroke her right breast.

“Wait,” she breathed into my ear as I felt the gorgeous tumescence of her nipple quiver under my fingertips through her blouse.

I drew my hand away and took my lips off of her soft neck.

“What’s wrong, darling?” I whispered.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she explained. “There is just something I need to tell you before we go any further.”

“Oh?” I grunted, unable to keep a note of concern from my voice. I had enough dating experience to know that “we have to talk” is almost always a bad sign.

“You see,” she explained, smiling directly into my gaze with those bewitching green eyes, her arms still enfolding me deliciously in her embrace, “I’m a Dominant.”

I’m not so old fashioned or naïve that I completely missed her meaning. “Well…that’s obvious,” I quipped, hoping to deflect and defuse, “you have as strong a will as anyone I’ve met.”

“No,” she insisted, “it is not just My force of personality I’m talking about. It’s deeper than that. It is the way I am romantically. Sexually.”

“Okay,” I allowed. “I have a sense of what you mean. How does that affect us?”

“It’s clear that we are very drawn to each other…” she said in a tone that sent chills down my spine.

“I’ll do you one better,” I responded. “I’m falling in love with you.”

“I can see that,” she whispered. “I feel the same way. But the way I love, you see….I want….”

She let the thought hang in the air, forcing me to pry. “Yes?” I obliged her.

“I want to control you,” she purred. “I want to control your body. Your pleasure. I want you to surrender to Me.”

I swear, she is so goddam sexy that the words “Yes, please” almost leapt out of my mouth that instant. She could make the proposition, “Let’s jump off a bridge together” sound alluring. But part of my brain rebelled. Surrender? Control? The deep habits of male privilege took over.

“What are you proposing?” I asked.

She disengaged from our embrace and rose from the couch, leaving me rigid and crestfallen. The way my eyes followed her swaying hips so hungrily should have cued me in to how things would play out. After a minute in her bedroom, she emerged carrying a small blue box.  Sitting at a remove from me on the sofa where we had been making out so furiously, she placed the box between us and removed the lid.

“Here it is,” she said. “I would like you to wear this.”

Looking down, I could see that the box contained a cage made of stainless steel mesh. The shape left little guesswork for what was to be caged- it was structured perfectly to contain a man’s cock. A hasp and locking mechanism were designed to secure the device in place by hooking around the testicles. It was shaped to hold a flaccid penis comfortably. Once it was in place an erection would be painful, an orgasm virtually impossible.

“You want me to wear this?” I asked, even though I could hear how obtuse I was being as I spoke.

“Yes,” she cooed, batting her eyes coquettishly.

I looked at her for a few moments, sizing up the situation. “Darling…” I began, putting a note of “let’s be reasonable” in my voice, “if it is a question of faithfulness…There is no one else. I want only you.”

“Oh, I know that,” she chuckled. “I’m sure you’ve masturbated while fantasizing about me quite a bit by now. It would be a while before you could think of any other woman even if you didn’t wear this cage.”

I coughed nervously at this little piece of mind reading. “So then why?” I asked.

“Because I want more control,” she explained matter-of-factly. “I don’t just want to be the focus of your desire. I want to control the intensity of your arousal and the frequency of your release. I want you to be My sexual slave.”

“But why do you want that,” I whined, “if you love me?”

She laughed. “I want you to be My sexual slave because I love you, silly. It turns me on to have that kind of control. Just talking about it is making me slick between the thighs.” At this she paused, smiling, and glanced suggestively at my crotch. “It is having a similar effect on your body.”

This was when I first noticed how stiff my cock had become. She was right. All of this talk of being her slave had been turning me on, though I hadn’t realized it.

“You’re too worldly and thoughtful to be small-minded,” she continued. “You can see that what I’m talking about isn’t harmful or wrong, just unusual. Maybe it is different than the intimacy you shared with your wife or other lovers, but it is no less real. You might even find it rewarding.”

I haven’t been dumbstruck many times in my life. When my father opened and read the letter from the draft board telling me that my lottery number was so high I probably wouldn’t have to go to Vietnam, I couldn’t form words for a full three minutes. That was probably the last time that I had been so tongue-tied. I just sat gaping at her, my mouth moving but no sound coming out.

“We don’t have to make any decisions now,” she said. “Go home, pet. Take some time. Think it over.”

I drove home in a fog. My psychological compass was spinning. I had lost my bearing on true north. That night sleep was impossible. I masturbated twice while thinking about her, but still lay staring at the ceiling until early morning.

I panicked. I didn’t call her for several days. It was stupid and rude. However brief our courtship had been to that point, I owed her better than that. But I was paralyzed, caught between desire and fear. I couldn’t force myself to act on either impulse, so I just did nothing.

Three days went by. I came in to the office for a meeting of the Citizens’ Planning Consultation Board and she was there. She winked at me as my young secretary, Janet, explained that this was the new group of volunteers for the coming fiscal year.

We were in the large conference room in City Hall. I worked my way through the small group, doing my best job to give each volunteer my most affable politician’s smile and handshake. When I reached her the touch of her hand sent an electric jolt through my whole body.

“I…I’m sorry I haven’t called,” I mumbled, keeping my voice low in hopes that the others would not hear.

“That’s okay, pet,” she purred. “I understand.”

“Are you interested in city planning?” I asked.

“No, silly,” she chided. “I’m interested in you. I came here to dangle the bait.”

“I thought you said that I could take time to make a decision,” I whispered.

“I did,” she explained, a wicked smile lighting her gorgeous green eyes, “and I meant it. I never said I would make the decision easy for you, though.”

As we gathered around the conference table she moved quickly to grab the seat right next to mine. Formal business began. I sat looking official as Janet led the new volunteers in choosing a committee chairperson and a deputy. While the meeting droned on I felt her hand grab mine under the table and place it deliberately on her thigh, up under her skirt.

The feeling of her silky skin under my fingertips was delicious. I was nervous. My heart pounded. I looked about skittishly to see if anyone had noticed. I saw the mischievous grin on her face and swallowed hard. I did not take my hand away, though.

I pretended to focus on the meeting, my entire mind captivated by her thigh. A buzz signaled a text coming on my phone. Looking down at the table where I had put the device, I saw her message on my screen: “Stroke.”

I couldn’t help myself, I obeyed. I moved my hand gently up and down the exquisite contours of her thigh, savoring every magnificent curve, muscle, and dimple. The sensation of her smooth stocking, combined with the enchantingly subtle aroma of her perfume, made me drunk with arousal. My cock pulsed like it was trying to break the seams of my pants. I became light-headed.

Buzz-buzz. Another text. “Move between My thighs. Stroke My pussy.”

I tapped my phone screen quickly to delete the message, but I obeyed. My fingers played over the surface of her panties, just above the dewy lips of her pussy. I stroked evenly and rhythmically, as past experience had taught me women generally find pleasing.

“Yes, My name is _________,” she said out lout to the group, giving the name by which I had known her for several weeks. I was shocked to hear her voice. I had become so lost in the physical contact with her that I didn’t realize the group was making round-robin introductions. I did not stop stroking, however, even as she went on speaking.

“I only moved to town a few years ago,” she continued, “but I love it. I’m so excited to serve this community.”

I was amazed by her control. I could see from the mistiness in her eyes and the hardness of her nipples under her blouse that my stroking was edging her toward climax, but there was no sign of it in her voice or manner. To the rest of the people in the room who were not as close to her as I was, she seemed the picture of staid poise.

When she was done silence fell on the room as I stared at her, open-mouthed.

“Mr. Mayor, it’s your turn,” she said with a doe-eyed smile.

As I stammered my way through my introduction my phone buzzed once more. “Smell your fingers,” was the texted instruction. Again I couldn’t resist. While the introductions moved on around the table I withdrew my hand from between her legs and pretended to wipe the lower part of my face so that I could bring my fingers beneath my nose. The earthy fragrance of her pussy lit my senses on fire as I inhaled her musk. For the rest of the meeting I had to keep my hands beneath the table to conceal their trembling. After she had departed with a knowing wink I was the last one to leave the room when the meeting ended, in hopes that no one would notice my enormous erection.

That night I was like a man possessed. I paced around my apartment, looking at my phone, trying to choose between calling her on the one hand and throwing the phone out the window on the other. Finally I grabbed my keys and headed to my car.

The look on her face as she answered the door to her condo showed that my appearance was exactly what she had expected. Her attire, however, completely floored me. She was wearing nothing but black stiletto heels and lacy black lingerie: a bustier, stockings, and garters. The only other item of clothing was an enormous ebony dildo, strapped around her waste and jutting from between the tops of her thighs. In her hand she was holding what looked like a riding crop.

“Come in,” she said.

As I entered her living room the scene became even more disorienting. A young man was naked and bent over the back of one of her armchairs, his arms handcuffed behind his back and his mouth stopped with a ball gag. To make the mood even more surreal, seated in the chair next to him was what looked like a green-haired ventriloquist’s dummy.

“Who’s this guy?” a high-pitched male voice said, seeming to emanate from the dummy.

“Shush!” she said, bring the riding crop down on the young man’s ass with terrific force, so that he winced in agony.

“What’s going on?” I asked, feeling as stupid as I sounded.

“Don’t mind Ricky,” she directed, “he is a very talented ventriloquist, but he doesn’t know when to be quiet. If he isn’t careful he won’t get his reward.”

“Reward?” I grunted.

“Yes,” she explained, her tone suggesting that the truth was obvious. “It’s why I am wearing this dildo. So I can fuck him up the ass.”

“Why would you do that?” I pleaded.

“Because he begged Me to,” she answered. “And because he wrote a decent Valentine’s Day story for a collection of erotic fiction and essays that I publish online.”

“I don’t understand,” I croaked. “I thought you love me.”

Her tone softened. “I do love you, pet. But I can’t love you as someone I’m not. I want you to be My special companion, my first and foremost cuckold slave. But you’ll have to accept My control, and that means sharing Me with my other slaves.”

“This is crazy,” I said, and I meant it. The craziest thing about the whole scene was that as I stood there, watching her prepare to jam her strap-on dildo into the ass of another man, I wanted her as desperately as ever.

“Oh just hypnotize him, Goddess!” the dummy whined.

Thwack! “One more word out of you and your reward is gone!” she scolded.

“Goddess? Hypnotize me?” I asked.

“Yes,” she explained. “I am a professional hypnodomme. My pets know Me as Goddess Marquesa. If W/we remain together you will learn to call Me Goddess when W/we are alone or with other members of the BDSM community.”

I became light-headed and must have wobbled, because she stepped forward and placed a concerned hand on my arm.

“Are you all right pet?” she asked. “Can I get you a drink? Sit down. You are welcome to stay and watch as I fuck Ricky.”

“No…no…I….,” I stammered. “This is all a bit much. I need to go home. Think….”

She reached up and kissed me on the cheek. “That’s fine, pet,” she cooed. “Perhaps some night I’ll appear in your bed, and W/we can talk some more. Don’t try to drive until the fog clears from your head.”

Time was a blur from that point forward. I don’t know how many days passed. I made no attempt to contact her, but it didn’t matter. She was with me always. In my thoughts. In my dreams. In the sound of the wind outside my window. The rest of the world could claim no more than a small fraction of my attention. City business suffered. Janet expressed concern.

As the next meeting of the Citizens’ Planning Consultation Board approached my condition deteriorated. On the night before I knew I would see her again I tossed and turned in agitation. Finally at midnight I fell into a fitful sleep.

I was awoken at 2 AM by a sudden motion. Someone had climbed into the bed next to me.

“Hello, pet,” she said.

I rose in shock and pulled the covers back. She was stark naked, lounging easily with her gorgeous blond locks spread on my extra pillow. Her magnificent body was stretched out comfortably to give me a view of every curve.

“How did you get in here?” I hissed.

“You left the front door open,” she explained. “That was the whole point of putting the suggestion in your head. I knew if you wanted Me here subconsciously, you would ‘forget’ to lock the door.”

She slid over and into my arms, and I embraced her passionately. For several minutes we were locked in a deep kiss. Finally she pulled away and retreated to the other side of the bed.

“I see you want Me as much as ever,” she said.

“Yes,” I gasped, and made to slide over and embrace her again. She restrained me with an outstretched hand.

“No,” she commanded. “I’ve given you a little taste of My control and now I want you to feel more. You can leave if you want, or look away. But if you want to lie here with Me there can be no more touching, you can only look.”

“For how long?” I pleaded.

“For as long as I say.”

I couldn’t leave and I couldn’t look away. I lay next to her, my eyes transfixed by her face and body. The curves of her legs. The elegant sculpting of her arms, neck and hands. The full lusciousness of her breasts. The eldritch beauty of her eyes. It hurt to look at her and feel the yearning to touch her, to taste her. But it felt so good too. Too good to stop. I was helpless.

“Please,” I begged, “let me touch you.”

“No,” she said. “Tormenting you makes  Me wet.”

As soon as she said it I could see that it was true. Her pussy was so slick that the juices of her arousal were dripping down her thigh.

“Oh, God…” I croaked.

“Goddess,” she corrected.

“Goddess…..please,” I begged, “Knowing you are so wet makes me need to touch you even more. Let me stroke your pussy with my hand. Or use my mouth…”

She laughed. “It’s a vicious cycle, pet. Knowing I’m wet is torture for you, but knowing how much I’m torturing you makes me even more wet. And so on…and so on…”

I groaned in agony. “Goddess,” I pleaded, “have mercy. I’ll go mad.”

“I could help,” she offered. “I could hypnotize you. You might be able to get some sleep that way.”

“Yes, please!” I agreed. “I would rather have you invade my mind than lie awake like this yearning for you.”

She slid over and placed her mouth to my ear. As her delicious whisper soaked into my consciousness I could feel my mind unclench, welcoming her inside. After a few minutes I drifted off blissfully into oblivion.

When I awoke it was morning. Sunlight filled my bedroom. My hands and feet were tied to the four posts of the bed.

“Good morning pet,” she said as she grabbed the shaft of my cock and stroked me erect. She was still naked and looked beautifully fresh and rested. My cock went stiff in her hands immediately, and she placed a snug ring over the shaft that cinched tightly at the base.

“This will help keep you erect for Me,” she explained as she mounted my supine form. As I lay immobilized she took her pleasure, bearing down on my cock while she steadied herself against my chest with her exquisite hands. Her nails dug into my flesh, her face contorted in beautiful delight. She made sweet moans of satisfaction as the muscles of her pussy contracted around my shaft and the perfume of her musk filled the air.

The fucking went on for an hour. She came once, then twice, and then a third time. The sweat rolled down her gorgeous torso and mingled with mine on my belly and hips. I had never seen anything so beautiful. “Don’t stop,” I begged as she dismounted and lay on the bed beside me.

“It’s your turn, pet,” she said as she slipped the cock ring off my shaft. My cock was slick with her juices. As she ran her hand up and down the shaft, I moaned.

“This is what My control feels like, pet,” she whispered. “this is how it could be from now on if you surrender to Me.”

With those words she bore down hard and I exploded, moaning like a dying man and staring into the depth of her green eyes. I had never felt anything like it. The pleasure was so intense I almost lost conscious.

“Oh Goddess, I love You,” I cried.

“I know, pet,” she said, when my quaking had subsided, and kissed me.

She got up from the bed and went into the bathroom, returning after a moment with a damp washcloth. The puddle of semen on my belly was enormous. She wiped it up gently, and then used the cloth to wipe some of the love-sweat from my torso, shoulders, and thighs. She went into the bathroom and I heard the sound of my shower running. When she emerged thirty minutes later she was decked out magnificently in street clothes, her hair and make-up perfect.

“I’m sorry to say, pet,” she began, “I won’t make it to the Board meeting today. I just don’t have the time. I will give Janet my resignation when I call to tell her to come untie you.”

She bent down and kissed me before I could comment or object.

“You have some thinking to do, pet. If you decide W/we should stay together, you know what to do and where to find Me.”

With those words she was gone.

That was February 12. I would have run to see Her the next day, but it felt appropriate to make my surrender to Her on Valentine’s Day. She understood. As I knelt on the floor of Her condo, naked, a red bow around my cock and a dozen red roses in my outstretched hand, She smiled. The cage was ready. When She locked it around my cock and placed the necklace holding the key around Her neck, the words came to me spontaneously.

“Thank You, Goddess,” i said. “Thank You for letting me be Yours.”

 

 

 

The End

 

 

A Goddessful Valentine’s Day to All!