Inside we were greeted by a short bald man in a pinstripe suit and a tall, thin, Bohemian looking fellow, both of who fawned over her as men usually do. “Goddess Marquesa!” the bald man gushed. “It is always an honor to serve you. Who have you brought us today?”

                “This is one of My slaves, of course,” she declared, gesturing at me with a dismissive wave of her exquisite hand. “His name doesn’t matter. You can call him ‘shitstain.’ You know what he needs.”

                “Mmmm….yes….,” the bald man replied, taking my measurements with his eyes. “As we discussed on the phone….Well, Goddess, you can follow Pierre into the salon. Shitstain, you come with me.”

                Goddess Marquesa followed the tall Bohemian into a room off to the left. I followed the bald man through a curtain that led to the rear of the store.

                “Strip naked,” the bald man commanded. I did as I was told. Since meeting Goddess Marquesa I had become used to taking orders. She had picked me up in a bar in June, taken me home, and hypnotized me. Actually, she may have begun hypnotizing me as we were talking in the bar….I’ve never really been able to tell, and don’t really care.

                From that night on my desire for her has grown steadily. On the night we met I would have told you that she was the most enticing woman I had ever encountered. Utterly irresistible. But now…..now I don’t have words for how she makes me feel. She is in my head constantly…pulsing through my blood. Making my nipples engorge at odd times. Stiffening my cock at the slightest reminder of her voice…her touch.

                Obeying her always makes me hard, and since I knew that obeying the bald man was the same as obeying her, I had to fight not to become erect as he ordered me about. Once I had stripped, he had me try on several different pairs of pants and jackets, all theatrically ripped and patched. When he had finally found a combination that he liked (the pants were too short and frayed at the cuffs, the jacket did not match the pants and had several plaid patches sewn to the front), he sat me in a chair while he and a younger assistant began working on my makeup.

                The pair put a plastic green prosthetic on my head, clasped around the back with a large clip-band, which gave the top of my skull the flat, square shape of the classic movie Frankenstein monster. To the top of the prosthetic they glued stringy black hair which they blended with my own hair in back. Next came green makeup on my face and hands, with glue-on stitched scars and electrodes bulging from either side of my neck. The whole transformation took almost two hours.

                As the bald man was applying final touches to my face scars with a fine brush, Goddess Marquesa entered. She was dressed in what can only be called the SEXIEST MAD SCIENTIST COSTUME OF ALL TIME. A small white lab coat clung tightly to her shoulders and arms, underneath which she wore what was ostensibly a gray power suit. The suit had a conservative lace white collar and a daisy worn as a boutonniere, but was cut so severely short at the top that her magnificent cleavage spilled forth in decadent abandon, and her skirt was so tiny that it was impossible not to look at the divine curves of her legs.

                “Are you ready for the final step?” she asked the bald man.

                “Yes, Goddess! We got the items you desired,” the bald man replied, drawing a small gray jewelry box from a handy drawer. Opening the lid, he showed Goddess Marquesa the box’s contents: two thin golden rings, each about one inch in diameter.

                “What are those for?” I asked.

                “Your nipples!” the bald man answered, flashing a big toothy grin for the first time since I had entered the shop.

                I swallowed hard. The tall Bohemian had entered the room, and he and the bald man’s assistant had each taken up station at one of my elbows, as if prepared to hold me down. “My nipples?” I asked. “But why? No one will be able to see them under my shirt and jacket.”

                “This is the special sauce that will put you perfectly into character,” Goddess Marquesa explained. “You are going to the party as My creature, and what better way to feel that you are My creature than to surrender your body to My Will? Besides, it turns Me on to watch while one of My slaves gets pierced for Me. That is the main reason W/we came here in the first place.”

                “B-b-b-but…,” I stammered, struggling to articulate a protest. “The pain….sensitive…if someone sees….”

                “Shhh…shhhh..shhhh, pet,” the Goddess cooed, stepped forward and brushing my cheek with her silky hand. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. If this really wouldn’t please you….”

                She gazed into my eyes, and I felt myself drowning again in her witchy emerald orbs….My heart pounded…my head spun. Everything about her overwhelmed me. Her scent. Her beautiful face. Her energy. Her sheer charisma. My mind melted under the glare of her will. I could feel nothing but how much I wanted to be Hers…

                “Please Goddess,” I heard myself begging, “pierce me. Make me Yours.”

                The tall Bohemian and the assistant opened the front of my shirt and held my arms as the bald man moved in with a long needle. I hissed in pain and arched my back as each hole was punctured, but never lost sight of Goddess Marquesa. Her emerald eyes were ablaze with arousal, I could feel a corona of power radiating from her. She breathed deeply, as if savoring the musk of my pain. I had never seen her so heartbreakingly beautiful.

                When both rings were set, she stepped forward and took my face in both hands, bending to place a soft kiss on my lips. She reached down between her legs with one hand as she leaned next to my ear. “That made Me so hot!” she exclaimed in an urgent whisper.

                With two fingers she smeared some moisture on the cleft above my upper lip.

                “A gift!” She said.

                I inhaled and smelled the sweet fragrance of Her Pussy.

                “You’ve been a good boy,” She said. “I will make special use of you later. But first, W/we have a costume contest to win…”

                The End