Goddess Marquesa glanced down at the invitation once again. Yes, this was the right address. The grim Gothic mansion looked quite out of place among the pastel-hued condominiums of her West Florida beach neighborhood. She pressed the button next to the door. As an echoing metallic bell sounded from deep within the mansion, the Goddess thought she saw a bat circle quickly around the mansard roofed tower looming over the shallow portico. This place has just the right ambience for Halloween, she thought to herself. Read more…
In the night.
Something.
A whisper.
“Yes Goddess, i will remain asleep”
Breath tingles my ear.
A whisper.
“Yes Goddess, i love You”
A finger tip upon my cheek.
A whisper.
“Yes Goddess, i will serve and obey”
A touch so intimate.
A whisper.
“No Goddess, i can never escape”
A kiss.
A whisper.
“Yes Goddess, forever”
i sleep.
slave mike
Note to the Reader: This story is one of wish-fulfillment. Goddess Marquesa would not, to my knowledge, do this to one of Her pets. Although, IMHO, any of us would be lucky if She did…..
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It started with a wrong number.
“Hello, pet,” the woman’s voice cooed into my ear. “I have been thinking naughty thoughts of you.” It was only ten words, but they sent chills down my spine and warmth through my loins. Becoming so turned on so quickly gave me vertigo, I lost my bearings.
“I’m sorry,” I stammered, “is this Fred’s Garage?”
The voice on the other end laughed, a sound which again stoked a furnace of desire inside me.
It was a typical late summer’s night in New York: sultry, hot and humid. It had just rained, but the night was clear now and the bright light of the Moon snuck down between the rooftops and kissed the glistening, wet streets. As the special limo carrying my most beloved, adored, and worshiped Mistress Marquesa and myself, Her submissive, pliant, obedient, pink lingerie clad slave/slut girl Danielle careened downtown, I could see that the city was indeed alive, despite the obtrusive heat and very late hour. Read more…
Clark was livid. Not that this was an unusual state for him to be in. Not at all. That was, ironically enough, really at the root of the current problem. Of course, with Clark, there was ALWAYS a problem, or a crisis or a situation, or SOMETHING that he (and ONLY he) could repair and set to right. This was because Clark was one of those self appointed “General Manager of the Universe” types who felt that no one else was really capable or competent enough to get the job done, and done right; whatever that job was. He was a stereotypical hard-charger who would never admit to meeting his match – even if he had! He was about to have his male ego’s perfect track record disrupted, however, and here is where our story begins. Here is where Clark’s reign as “Lord and Master of All He Surveys” would end, and he wouldn’t even know it. Read more…
