He was nervous and late. He had just been out for his regular run. Then he realised that today was his first ballroom lesson at the “Trancing dancing” studio. He never could work out that title. Neither could he quite grasp why his instructor was called “Madamme Morphia”. Maybe today he was about to find out.
He rang the bell and the automatic door buzzed as he went in. He followed the signs to the studio. His curiosity was aroused to learn why some read “Don’t get too tired now”. Read more…
“Madame Magda—Reader and Adviser” the carved wood sign read. It hung over the entrance to a door at a modest home in a residential area of a large city. Bob Cunningham looked around and again questioned the wisdom of his two friends who had advised him to see Magda. Over lunch he had told a couple of his friends that he had read about burglaries at art studios in town. Since he owned one of the larger galleries in the city he wanted to take more security precautions to protect his property. Both friends, also gallery owners, instead suggested that he visit Magda. They told him that she could tell, just by talking to him, if he needed more protection. Bob didn’t go in for mumbo-jumbo stuff like fortune tellers but his friends were so insistent that he agreed to see her just to placate them. Read more…
“Reserve two separate rooms at the Palmer House for next Saturday and Sunday, Dear One,” said Mistress Sasha. She was speaking to an admiring male who lived near Chicago. “I will see what I can do to satisfy your fantasy — because it will amuse Me to control two men by long distance.” She promised to call right back. Read more…
The Magnificent Mistress Marquesa had been spending the week in New York City. When the local New York Doms heard the famous and beautiful Marquesa was in town they asked Her to come to The Vault, a NYC S&M club to demonstrate Her power over men. She was only too happy to make an appearance for the ladies and their slaves.
Cliff Jordan had been spending the week in New York City as well. He had been on a business trip and had worked every day from 8:00 in the morning to 7:00 at night. Each night he had then returned to his hotel room, eaten a room service dinner and gone to bed. Read more…
As Mark entered the office he couldn’t help but notice the large portrait of Mistress Harriot, of the Harriot School for Young Men. It occupied most of one wall of the office. As he approached it almost seemed to light up, coming strangely to life, glowing so that Harriot’s dark, intense and fascinating eyes looked straight at him. Her face was stunningly beautiful – in a stern, fierce, commanding sort of way.
Mark met the portrait’s gaze coolly enough but even this confident, arrogant young man found himself ever so slightly unnerved to think that very shortly she would be right there in this very room talking to him. It made him shudder! He had been told about her reputation from his father – but Harriot in the flesh . . .awesome, hypnotic, mysterious, if this portrait was any indication – might be something else again. He warned himself to be on guard. Read more…
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