The Marquesa Clause

The Marquesa Clause

 

A Goddess Marquesa Christmas Extravaganza

 

           

            ‘Twas the night before Christmas, and if any creature was stirring I probably would not have noticed. I had hit the eggnog pretty hard and was watching Elf for the umpteenth time on Netflix. Right at the point when Peter Dinklage had Will Ferrell in a headlock, however, something did draw my attention to the fireplace. A shower of debris fell noisily from the chimney, drawing my eyes to the space below the hearth just in time to see a magnificent pair of legs descend from the direction of the flue. These were followed by an equally gorgeous torso and face.

Before I could get my bearings on what was happening, a stunning curvaceous blonde was standing in my den, dressed in what can only be called a “Sexy Santa” costume. Her feet were shod in high-heeled black leather boots trimmed in white fur. Her red coat, also trimmed in white fur, was cut short to reveal her exquisite legs in see-through black nylons. Her peaked red hat with white pom-pom was worn at a jaunty angle on her lush blonde hair. Her deep green eyes made an appropriate seasonal contrast with her red regalia.

“Hello Gerald,” the seductive intruder said, making me shiver with the darkly velvet tone of her voice even as I wondered how she knew my name. “You’ve been a naughty boy this year.”

“Who are you?” I asked. “And how did you get down that chimney?”

“I am Goddess Marquesa,” the siren answered. “As for the chimney…it’s some kind of magic. The boys at the North Pole have explained it to Me, but I frankly don’t know and don’t care, as long as it works.”

“North Pole!?” I exclaimed in shock. “You mean you were sent by…”

“Santa….that’s right,” she confirmed. “What other explanation could there be…except perhaps PCP-laced eggnog or delusional psychosis?”

I was fairly certain I was not drugged or insane, but belief came hard. “Are you telling me Santa is real?” I blurted.

“If he’s not, I don’t know whose ass I have been paddling red for the past ten years,” Goddess Marquesa avowed.

“Why did Santa send you?” I asked. “Why didn’t he come himself?”

“Well, like I said, Gerald,” the Goddess explained, “you are on the Naughty List.”

“Wh-wh-what?” I stuttered.

As my question hung in the air, another rustling came from the chimney. A very short man, dressed all in green with a pointed hat, dropped down into the fireplace. The man was about three-feet six inches tall, had pointed ears, and was carrying a long scroll of what looked like parchment, densely covered with ink writing in a spidery hand.

“Gerald Harlan,” the elf read, “frequent viewing of internet porn…seven visits to ‘dungeons’….on the first visit, fitted with nipple clamps and spanked with a rubber…”

“Okay, okay,” I interjected. “I know what I did. If I am on this ‘naughty list’ why bother paying a call on Christmas Eve at all? Don’t you have enough trouble covering everyone on the ‘nice list’?”

“This isn’t official North Pole business,” the Goddess confided, “it is more of an ‘under the counter’ deal. Santa owes Me for losses at poker, and is generally incapable of refusing Me anything I want in any case, so I have arranged a little side deal with him. Every Christmas Eve he lends me the ‘Naughty List’….actually, technically it is only part of the ‘Kinky List- Subsection: Submissive Males’….and his extra sled, along with (here she gestured at the elf) Snowdancer here to assist. I spend the night visiting men I select from the list, by way of recruiting new slaves. As I see it, it is a win-win-win proposition.”

“Who are the three parties winning?” I asked, confused.

At this she rolled her breathtaking eyes. “I was being rhetorical, Gerald,” she declared. “I win. Beyond that, it doesn’t really matter.”

She strode forward, removed my glass of eggnog from my hand, and set it on the end table next to me. Kicking up her right leg, she placed her boot on the back of the chair above my left shoulder, so that she loomed over me, caging me in the “L” formed by her hips and thigh.

“I’m going to give you a choice,” she declared. “You can sit back and relax while I hypnotize you. I will bring you deep into trance, where I will unlock sexual fantasies you haven’t yet dared to dream. Under My Power you will experience the greatest orgasm of your life, after which you will be My love-drunk sex slave and fucktoy.”

I gulped hard and gasped for air. The closeness of her body was overwhelming. Her scent filled my senses and made me dizzy.

“What’s my other choice?” I asked.

“Do you really want to know your other choice?” she asked, stroking my right cheek so that my left was pressed against the smooth skin of her thigh.

“N…n…no,” I confessed.

“Good,” she declared with satisfaction. “I like a man who surrenders without a struggle. Listen to My voice…you feel yourself getting so relaxed….so very relaxed…you want to obey My will, which is stronger than your will…..”

The next thing I can remember, I was lying face-down in an enormous puddle of my own semen. Goddess Marquesa was standing by the hearth, haloed in the light coming from my Christmas tree ornaments. I had never seen anyone so sexy, or felt desire so fierce as I experienced in that moment.

“Goddess!” I moaned, reaching toward her as if to touch her.

“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!” she called, blowing me a kiss.I moaned again and tried to crawl forward, but she darted under the hearth and disappeared. I heard what sounded like sleighbells coming from the roof, and then silence…

I have never recovered from that night. Ever since, I have been the Goddess’s fuckpuppet and sex toy. I don’t know how long the list of her slaves is. Perhaps even she doesn’t know, it is so full. But I thank Goddess every day that I am on it. Slavery to Goddess Marquesa is the greatest Christmas gift anyone could EVER ask for…..

 

The End

 

A Goddessful Christmas to All the readers of H-E!

 

Remember to show your love for Goddess in this season of giving!

 

 

 

Trancegiving

            Goddess Marquesa looked at the four men arrayed around Her table. Each in his own way was yummy. The beefy stud to Her left was smiling pleasantly, as was his habit. The beautiful blond youth next to him was sulkily pouting, no doubt jealous that there were other men present. Across from him was a short, rather plump man with a bright look in his eyes. Next to the Goddess on Her right was an older man who could not hide a salacious grin.

“You boys all have a lot to be grateful for this holiday. Tell Goddess what you are most thankful for,” Goddess commanded. Read more…

Rubber Love – Catsuit & Gloves

Rubber features numerous ways to turn on its adherents, as many as their imagination and creativity permit.  It runs the gamut from sleeping between rubber sheets and pillow cases, and hopping into a huge rubber sac sack like a giant potato, to the most titillating clothing articles.
Let’s now turn to discuss garments and accessories of rubber that seem to offer its wearers the greatest sexual turn-on!

Read more…

Trick-or-Treatment

   

       David was drawn to her the moment he saw her. It was a cool October night. A good turn in the muggy weather of West Florida had drawn him out of the house. Through the music, chatter, and mood lighting of the jazz club his focus settled on her instantly. Everything about her crackled with energy and magnetism. The magnificent curves of her body. The sheen of her golden hair. The cheerful ease of her conversation as she chatted with other patrons. The knowing mischief in her exquisite green eyes. He could not resist attempting to flirt with her.

            “What do your friends call you?” he asked as he took the seat next to her at the bar, trying one of his most trustworthy lines.

            “That’s for My friends to know,” she said with a wicked smile. “You will call Me Goddess.”

            This made David pause for a beat, surprised. He had gotten many reactions to his line, but never anything approaching that for sheer brass. Unfazed, he smiled. “I will call you anything you ask, if you will let me see you again.”

            “All right,” she said. “Take me out this Saturday, the 28th.”

            The mention of the date made David’s expression darken. His tone suddenly serious, he replied, “I’m sorry. I can’t see anyone on the 28th. Any day but that one, please.”

           She studied him for a few moments, her luminous green eyes pensive. Finally, she reached into her purse and produced a small business card. Handing it to him, she said,  “You need My help. Come see Me on Sunday the 29th. I will begin treating you.”

            David looked at the card. It was on creamy white stock. Raised dark green letters said “Goddess Marquesa, trained hypnotherapist,” followed by a phone number and an address.

            David sighed. “I was hoping we could grab some dinner, or a drink,” he said, his tone crestfallen.

            “You want to see Me again?” Goddess Marquesa asked.

            David nodded eagerly.

            “Then be a good boy and do as I say,” she commanded. “Come to that address on Sunday. One P.M. sharp.”

            When David rang her doorbell, she answered wearing only a black bra, lacy black panties, black stockings, garters, black stiletto heels, and a see-through gossamer black negligee left open in front. In her right hand she held a glass of white wine.

            “Wow!” David exclaimed. “You look gorgeous. I thought I was coming for therapy.”

            “You are,” she declared. Pointing to her garb, she explained, “This is all very therapeutic. Come in and have a seat.”

            David entered the front parlor of the Goddess’s condo. Two upholstered armchairs were set facing each other in the center of the room. David sat down in one. Goddess Marquesa sat in the other, crossing her legs invitingly.

            “I’m sorry,” David apologized, “I won’t be able to stop staring at you.”

            “Why would you stop staring at Me?” Goddess Marquesa asked. “You can’t have seen many women as gorgeous as I am. No, you must stare at Me. Let your eyes travel along My body. My feet, so shapely…. My legs, so lusciously curvaceous…. looking at Me turns you on, but it relaxes you too…. you feel yourself getting sleepy…”

            David slipped into trance without realizing what was happening to him. When he next became aware, he was naked and on all fours. He heard someone barking like a dog, and only realized that he was the one barking after a few moments had passed.

            “That’s a good puppy, shake your ass for Me!” the Goddess ordered.

            David did so. It created a pleasant sensation deep in his rectum, as something which had been jammed into his anus massaged his prostate. He yipped and moaned in pleasure. He was on the floor in the parlor and still had a good view of Goddess Marquesa. The sight of her body and the stimulation in his rectum made his cock stiffen intensely.

            Seeing his excitement, the Goddess rose from her chair. “That’s enough for today. You did very well, pet,” she observed. Walking up to David, she bent down and reached behind him. With a wet “smack!” she pulled out the object that was plugging his anus. Thrusting it in his face, she commanded, “Go clean this in the bathroom sink. Be careful not to harm the leather.” It was her left stiletto. The long metal heel had been jammed in his ass.

            When he emerged from the bathroom, the Goddess was seated in her chair again. “How do you feel?” she asked.

            “I’m very turned on,” David replied, blushing slightly from the fact that his enormous erection made his declaration obvious. “Also….,” he began, but hesitated.

            “Yes?” Goddess Marquesa prodded.

            “I feel like I’m falling in love with you,” David confessed.

            “Good,” the Goddess declared. “That means the therapy is working. Come back for more tomorrow.”

            The next day the session began exactly as the one before. When David became aware again, however, things were different than they had been on Sunday. He was crawling on all fours again, but he was wearing clothing, and he was outdoors. A collar around his neck was attached to a leash held in Goddess Marquesa’s right hand. She had put a bathrobe over her lingerie and was leading him down one on of the paths in her condo complex.

            “Hi Terry!” the Goddess said as one of her neighbors approached.

            Terry laughed. “What kinky shit is this?” she asked.

            “Nothing kinky,” the Goddess declared, her tone mock-innocent. “David is My patient. Aren’t you, David?”

            David opened his mouth to answer in the affirmative, but all that came out was a “bark!”

            “Adorable,” Terry remarked drily, rolling her eyes.

            When the Goddess and Terry had air-kissed and parted, Goddess Marquesa jerked the leash to bring David to his feet. “Your hour is up, pet,” the Goddess declared. “Same time again tomorrow.”

            “Tomorrow is Halloween,” David said, slightly surprised that he could once again form English sentences.

            “All part of the therapy!” the Goddess explained, her tone conveying mild impatience.

            “Should I come in costume?” David asked.

            “You just provide yourself. I’ll provide your costume,” the Goddess replied.

            The third session began exactly as the first two. Once again when David emerged from trance, however, his situation was different. He was naked and on his knees, the collar around his neck, the leash grasped in Goddess’s hand. Goddess Marquesa was seated in her chair, her right leg extended invitingly. David’s hands were held limply in front of his chest like paws, his tongue protruded from his mouth as he panted.

            “That’s it boy! Beg! Beg!” The Goddess commanded.

            “Yip! Yip!” David barked pleadingly.

            “Good boy!” Goddess cooed. “Go ahead. Mistress knows what you want.”

            David could not control himself. His began humping the Goddess’s leg like a horny dog, pumping his hips and pressing the shaft of his rock hard cock against the exquisite flesh of her calf. He pumped deliriously and felt the pleasure in his cock crescendo, but he could not cum.

            “You need Mistress’s permission to release!” the Goddess said. “Beg again, boy! Beg!”

            “Yip! Yip-yip-yip!” David complied.

            With blinding speed the Goddess reached out and grasped both of David’s nipples, pinching and twisting with excruciating force. “Cum now, bitch!” Goddess commanded.

            David exploded in ecstasy. Semen jetted from his cock as if from a flame thrower, covering the Goddess’s calf with sticky fluid. After quivering blissfully for a full minute, he collapsed, curling into a heap at the Goddess’s feet.

            “Up, boy!” the Goddess ordered, jerking David’s leash. “Clean your mess!”

            David rose on all fours and lovingly licked the cum off of Goddess Marquesa’s calf. When he was done, the Goddess rose from her chair. “Stay boy,” she commanded. “I have something to show you.” With this she walked through the door that led to her bedroom.

            David sat quietly on all fours on the rug and waited. When the Goddess emerged she was dressed in a sumptuous costume. A short silver tunic was cut high to reveal her shapely legs and low to display her gorgeous breasts. She had traded her black stilettos for mirror-plated silver high-heels, and she carried a silver bow strung with a silver arrow. Atop her golden locks she wore a silver tiara adorned with a silver crescent. A silvery glow seemed to emanate from her whole face and body.

The sight of Goddess was so sexy that David went rigid again, despite having just cum so copiously. He was aroused, but he was also afraid. His eyes went wide. His breath came in ragged gasps. “You are…. you are….” David stuttered, struggling to finish his thought.

“I am Diana, Goddess of the Moon,” the Goddess declared.

“No, no!” David cried. “It’s not safe! Goddess, you must run! Run!” As he spoke sweat poured from his brow and veins began to visibly throb all along his neck, chest, and arms.

“Don’t be silly, pet,” Goddess chided. “I’m perfectly safe. Let’s see what happens when you see the Full Moon.”

With these words Goddess turned , bent slightly, and lifted her skirt with both hands. She wore no panties, and the full expanse of her glorious ass was revealed. Soft moonlight beamed from her clenched cheeks.

David’s entire body began to change. He grunted and moaned in pain as hair sprouted, muscles twisted, and limbs extended. When the grotesque metamorphosis was done, a man no longer knelt on Goddess Marquesa’s carpet, but a ravening wolf.

Wolf-David stalked forward, baring his teeth at Goddess Marquesa and growling menacingly.

“Bad boy!” the Goddess yelled, smacking David on the nose. “Get down!”

The wolf whimpered. Its fur went flat, its ears turned down. Its tail went between its legs. After a moment’s hesitation, it obediently sat on its haunches.

“Did you think I failed to notice that you are a werewolf pet?” the Goddess asked rhetorically.  “I wasn’t born yesterday. I’ve done you the favor of putting you under My control. My will is much stronger than yours, even when you are in wolf form. You’ll never be able to disobey Me. You love Me too much.”

David whined piteously, and nuzzled the Goddess’s calf with his wet nose, offering his submission and pleading for attention.

“That’s a good boy. You’re My pet now. I could use a big dog like you. Would you like to stay in this form for Me?”

David nodded and offered an “arf!” of assent.

“Good pet. I knew you would see things My way. Men always do, eventually. I think W/we can declare you cured!”

The End

A Goddessful Halloween to all!

 

 

 

 

 

 Latex and Rubber

         The Latex and Rubber Fetish fits hand in hand with Hypnosis like a nurse’s hand in a rubber surgical glove.

And its sooo many wonderfully sensual qualities endow L&R with a powerfully unique aphrodisiacal property.

 

Because rubber enthusiasts claim it has the supreme ability to so erotically arouse its adherents while they experience its many sensual properties.

They feel they achieve a sexual high far greater than any bliss they could experience without it.

[Incidentally, latex and rubber both come from the sap of the rubber tree, known as Latex, so I’ll use the terms interchangeably.

Moreover, when rubberists use the term latex, they refer to clothing and accessories made from thin, translucent sheets of rubber, which means it’s just rubber, anyway.]

 

In all candor, I must also confess that, so arousing do I find Latex and Rubber, that the simple act of describing the Latex and Rubber Fetish makes Me feel extremely lustful and libidinous, powerful, seductive and sexxy, and so the more I write about it, the more turned on I be-come.

 

Knowing this, My pet I hope as you go further along in your reading you will become more and more fascinated by My description of things rubbery, and become more and more deeply drawn in to the things I describe, and, I hope, perhaps you will even come to feel more and more turned on as you follow My narrative: 

 

Keep in mind that getting there is half the fun.  Along the way, I’m certain that portions of My descriptions will pique your interest and captivate your attention, and I firmly believe that as we proceed onward, some of My images will become lodged enduringly in your consciousness, and that some of My words will indelibly embed themselves, deep in your mind.

 

And so let’s move along…

So how to describe the sensual properties of latex?  Begin, perhaps, by examining the fabric itself, its inherent qualities and how these, in turn, affect rubberists.  More specifically, how they translate into pure, intense, undisguised, uninhibited sexuality.

 

Let’s start with rubber’s distinctive Smell.  There’s nothing like it — pungent, sulfury, heady, intoxicating — and Erotic and Arousing!

 

Now one might contend that through their ability to arouse through the olfactory sense, latex and rubber are no different than perfumes, which can also stimulate sexual arousal through the olfactory sense.

But, perfume generates arousal through a subtle, delicate, feminine quality, whereas the smell of rubber exudes raw, robust sexuality in a way that the offerings of Dior and Chanel can never match — one could never mistake the smell of rubber for perfume.

 

Then, rubber is impermeable, waterproof:  It does not allow air and other gases to pass through it.  Perhaps most important, it repels water and other liquids — including bodily fluids. a quality that makes it ideal for sexual games and fetish activities in which the players desire or crave non-contact with their outside stimuli.

 

 

Next, there’s the matchless Feel of rubber:  so naturally supple and flexible to the touch when it’s unstretched.  Take a swatch of dry rubber fabric between your thumb and forefinger, fold it, and flick the fold with another finger and you can only marvel at its liveliness and pliability while it wibble-wobbles back and forth until it comes to rest.

 

No other covering or fabric, fetish or otherwise — neither cellophane nor Saran Wrap, nor canvas, nor silk, satin nor lace, and certainly not PVC nor even leather — quivers or vibrates anything like rubber.  And as for their elastic qualities, there aren’t any.  And in contrast with Jello, which feels wet and sticky to the touch, you can savor the smooth, silky sensation of dry rubber sliding over your skin.

Which leads Me to mention its inherent Softness — as soft as a newborn’s tush, as soft as the skin surrounding a nipple or covering the cap of a penis.

 

 

That’s how rubber feels when it’s dry, but what about when it’s wet?

When they are moistened by water or a lubricant, latex and rubber glide over the skin virtually free from friction.  Just imagine moistened rubber, sliding friction-free — smoothly, effortlessly — over your skin…or imagine rubbing it over sensitive areas of your body.

 

Now add the extraordinary supple elasticity of rubber:  As a tightly fitted latex garment expands and contracts with the motion of the body underneath, no other covering material confers, much less rivals, the unique sensation that its elastic, rubbery texture conveys to the layer of skin which lies beneath.

 

When latex is stretched tightly over the skin, it feels like a second skin.

 

As the elastic fabric warms to the temperature of the body beneath, it seems to truly come alive, adhering ever more snugly to the body, encasing it — imprisoning it — in a stretchable cocoon, a tightly clinging, impermeable amniotic membrane — leakproof, air- and water-tight — a membrane that bestows on its wearer zen-like peace and protection from all things outside.

 

And, to mention one crowning tactile property of rubber, in the form of a very thin membrane, it transmits touch almost as faithfully as your fingertips, which is why the best surgical gloves — and condoms — come in rubber…

 

Now,,,Just imagine the Feel of sensitive body parts sheathed in slippery, wet rubber, being kneaded, stroked, or teased from without.

 

Last, there’s the unrivaled Look of it…You know — You Love!! — the sheer erotic sensuality of the female form…enclosed…encased in Latex…

 

Each body part highlighted in thinly stretched elastic…showcasing like no other material the proud thrust of the breasts, nipples highlighted in rubbery relief, the blood-swollen lower lips pushing out into the tightly clinging textile.

Inviting you to feel, touch and tease, to stroke and knead…or, for the latex wearer, inviting tactile exploration by another through feeling, touching and teasing, stroking and kneading.
 
To be continued…..
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