I arrived on Space Station Shakti along with the rest of the delegation. I am lead Psychologist, since my doctoral research had focused intensively on the benefits of hypnosis in treating neurosis. Like most members of the team I approached our mission with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism. We had all seen the sensational stories in the media; we had all heard scandalous tales and fantastic rumors. What could possibly be going on at Shakti?

Our arrival did nothing to dampen speculation and wonder. After our shuttle docked with Shakti we climbed (“gravity” at Shakti is generated entirely by the centrifugal force of the spinning circular facility, thus we docked “below” the deck) in through an airlock into a reception area. The walls of the beige-carpeted hall were plasma screens on which were projected a shifting series of images, all of the same person: Goddess Marquesa. As we traveled through the station we would find that all of the walls operated as such screens.

The room was softly lit and pervaded by unobtrusive, relaxing music, a slow composition of gentle strings and soft chimes as one commonly hears at massage parlors or on hypnotic recordings. Overlaying the music was a richly textured woman’s voice (I recognized it from prior research as being that of Goddess Marquesa). While the music played the Goddess’s recorded voice quietly intoned intermittent messages: “Goddess is Beauty… Goddess is Life…Goddess is Everything… You want Goddess… You need Goddess… You love Goddess… You cannot resist Mistress Goddess Marquesa…” Like the projected images of Goddess Marquesa, the vocal messages followed you everywhere you went on Space Station Shakti.

As we gathered in the reception room and acclimated ourselves to the facility’s “gravity,” a door opened to one side of the room and Goddess Marquesa entered, dressed in a short blue pastel skirt-suit with matching high-heeled shoes. She was accompanied by two attendants, one man and one woman. I was struck by her appearance. In person, she is quite beautiful, but not what one would expect from a woman who is worshiped so passionately by so many. Her figure is aggressively, curvaceously sexy, and her face is stunning, bejeweled as it is by her luminous emerald eyes. But she is far from statuesque, and she is much older than the typical actresses and fashion models generally fetishized in our culture.

“Welcome, everyone,” the Goddess announced. “We are so glad to have you all visit us at Shakti Station. I am so looking forward to reading your report on our operation here.”

Emma Fawkes, the neurologist who leads the delegation, stepped forward to offer Goddess Marquesa her hand. As they shook hands, Dr. Fawkes declared, “On behalf of the Department of Health and Human Services I thank you for giving us access to this facility. In return for your cooperation, we will endeavor to do a thorough and fair inspection of the premises.”

Goddess Marquesa nodded in acknowledgement of this courtesy. Gesturing in the direction of the door from which she had emerged, she led us through as a group and down a long corridor. Her image peered at us from the walls and her voice hummed softly in the air as she began an informal introductory speech.

“As you may know already,” she said, “Shakti is entirely financed by private capital. My slave…”

“Slave?” I interrupted.

Goddess Marquesa turned and favored me with an indulgent smile. “Dr. Henry Hargrove, isn’t it?” she asked, showing that she had done her homework prior to our arrival.

I nodded to indicate that she had correctly identified me.

“Yes, Dr. Hargrove… slave. I will do you good people the honor of not mincing words. The individuals you will meet here are all, to one degree or another, My slaves. I live an openly BDSM lifestyle, my hypnosis is directed at giving Me sexual control of those who choose to experience it. The man who funded this space station, Sir John Fennington III, was both a multi-billionaire and My slave. When he tragically learned he was about to pass away from liver cancer, he approached Me with the plans to build this space station.”

As she finished this explanation, we reached another door at the end of the corridor. Here the Goddess stopped and turned. “Through this door are your rooms for the duration of your stay. My slaves Rick and Michelle,” she explained, gesturing to the man and woman that had been attending her, “will take you to your assigned rooms. Your luggage is being brought to your rooms as W/we speak. Please take an hour to refresh yourselves from your journey, then come join Me at My table for dinner.”

Dinner was held in a large, sumptuously appointed dining hall. During the meal the conversation about the nature of Shakti Station continued. “When Sir John first proposed this plan to Me I thought he was mad, of course,” the Goddess related. “A BDSM commune in space? Stranger than fiction. But Sir John convinced Me that his vision had merit. He understood that many of My slaves would profit from a radically enclosed environment in which they could experience My hypnotic power 24/7. There were many options that he considered, but in the end outer space made the most practical sense. Shakti gives me complete control over the sensory and cognitive environment in which My slaves live and breath. It enables Me to encase My slave’s minds and bodies in a ‘Cocoon of Goddess.’”
“And what does this do to your slaves?” I asked.

“The effect is different for each slave. For some of them the experience is simply extremely relaxing or intensely gratifying. For others it is therapeutic.”


“Indeed,” the Goddess affirmed. “Some of My slaves develop an acute need for My control. I call them ‘chronic slaves.’ The environment of Shakti helps Me work with them to develop the skills they need to cope in situations where they cannot have constant exposure to My hypnotic power.”

One of the other members of the delegation rolled her eyes. I coughed in embarrassment, trying to cover my amused skepticism. The Goddess looked into my eyes intently for a few moments, but made no other sign that she had registered our reaction to her account.

The Goddess clinked her glass to call for attention. “After dinner you are all free to explore the station,” she announced. “Tomorrow you are invited to join our community in a day of typical activities. Morning hypnosis begins right after breakfast, at 10:00 AM.”

Dinner left me bemused. As I wandered the halls of the space station I was amazed at its technical artistry. An elaborate human habitat suspended 240 miles above the earth. But thus far I had seen no clue to the source of this woman’s power. What had made her Queen of this domain?

The next morning I gathered with the other members of the delegation in the “Meditation Hall” for the daily hypnosis session. Goddess Marquesa greeted me as I came in. “Did you sleep well, Doctor?” she asked.

“Fitfully,” I confessed, “My circadian rhythms still haven’t adjusted to the change of time.”

“Well, perhaps I can do something about that,” she purred, smiling.

“I am a very practiced hypnotist,” I rejoined. “I doubt you can take me to a place in trance that is not already familiar to me.”

The Goddess did not favor this with a verbal answer. She smiled mysteriously and turned, walking slowly toward her position at the front of the hall so that I had a clear view of the curves of her thighs and the sway of her hips.

The hall was furnished with rows of divans facing a raised dais, on which a single divan was set in front of a microphone. Goddess Marquis reclined in the raised divan. She was dressed in a sunflower-yellow dress that was cut high to reveal the silken shapeliness of her legs and low to accentuate the dramatic swoop of her cleavage. Her leather shoes matched the color of her dress. She arrayed herself on the divan so that the gorgeous line of her body could be seen from all angles of the room. The screens that covered the surrounding walls of the Meditation Hall displayed an enlarged video feed of the Goddess as she began speaking into the microphone.
“Let us begin,” she announced. “Everyone please make yourselves comfortable.”

The slaves in the Hall all took places on individual divans, the members of the delegations followed their examples. When everyone was settled, the Goddess spoke again.

“Listen to My voice, pets…”

The sound was instantly captivating. I felt as if I could hear the Goddess speaking inside my head. My attention was fixated.

“You feel yourself relaxing. The sound of My voice… the sight of My body… relaxes you. You cannot help feeling your muscles loosen… slacken… It feels so good… Listen and obey… You cannot resist… My will is stronger than your will…”

My mind dissolved. Thought shut down. My awareness ebbed to a hazy sense of delicious well-being. I hovered, rapt in calm delight, for I don’t know how long.

“One… two… three!” The Goddess’s count brought me out of trance. I had never experienced anything like it before. The aftereffects were extraordinary, like emerging from a drunken haze, but with none of the sodden aches or mental static. I felt renewed, refreshed… transformed.

“The rest of the day is unscheduled, pets,” the Goddess declared. “All of the facilities are open. You may use the library, the gymnasium… or simply relax and bask in the afterglow of trance.”

That night again I was seated, along with the other delegates, at the Goddess’s table.

“Did you find my trance edifying?” the Goddess asked with a flirtatiously knowing smile.

“Y-y-yes,” I stuttered. “I was foolish to condescend to you.”

“You are not the first man I’ve made foolish, and you won’t be the last,” she replied with a wink. “I think you will sleep well tonight, Doctor.”

That night in my cabin sleep indeed came on fast. But at some point in the night I was roused by a voice.

“Up, worm!”

It was Goddess Marquesa. She was standing next to my bed, clad only in a black lace bra, black panties, stockings, and garters. Her hair fell about her gorgeous shoulders in wild abandon, her green eyes blazed. In her right hand she grasped a short riding crop.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “What is the meaning of this?”

“You will be beaten,” she declared.

“You are mad!” I shouted. “Leave this room.”

“This is My space station, Doctor,” the Goddess intoned. “You will obey Me! On your hands and knees, facing away!”

My body began to tremble. Before I realized what was happening, I was doing as she had commanded. I threw my covers to the floor and raised myself onto my hands and knees, with my ass facing the Goddess.

“What is happening?” I asked.

“I am deep inside your head,” she answered. “You are powerless to resist my commands. Now beg to be whipped!”

I bit down on my lip to try to stop myself from speaking, but it was no use. “P-p-p-lease!” I yelped. “Please whip me, Goddess!”

Crack! The riding crop slashed across my ass, sending searing pain through my whole body. I screamed in agony.

“Beg again, shitstain!” she commanded.

“Please another!” I cried, despite the pain.


The beating continued. The pain mounted. I pleaded for it to stop, but she drove me on, forcing me to beg for the whip again and again. Finally the pain became so intense that I passed out.

Pain and exhaustion made me oversleep. When I emerged from my cabin, breakfast was almost over. I burst into the dining room still dressed in my sleepwear and strode up to the table where the Goddess was seated with the other delegates.

“How dare you lay hands on me!” I shouted. “I am an agent of the government.”

“What are you talking about, Henry?” Fawkes asked.

“She beat me!” I explained. “Whipped me in my cabin last night!”

The Goddess did not register understanding of my fit, only amusement and mild surprise. “I have no idea what this man is talking about,” she declared. “I whipped no one last night.”

“Is that so?” I shouted, my tone aggressively sarcastic. “Then how do you explain this?”

I turned my back on the gathering, bent over, and dropped my pajama pants to expose my naked ass. Gasps and expletives met my display.

“Your ass is hairy, but unmarked, Henry,” Fawkes drawled. “If someone whipped you last night, it must have been with a cat’s whisker or a wet noodle.”

“But… but… I saw her,” I gasped. “The sound… the pain… She put me under her power. It was the trance… I couldn’t disobey her commands.”

“You have the wrong idea, Dr. Hargrove,” Goddess Marquesa explained. “The post-hypnotic suggestion I implanted in yesterday’s trance session was not so nefarious as you seem to think. All of our trances are recorded for our archives. Computer,” she called, raising her voice to activate a digital system, “play back the end of yesterday’s hypnosis session.”

The far wall, which had been projecting a picture of the Goddess, sparked into a video of the previous day. I and the other delegates could clearly be seen in the Hall, all lost in trance. The Goddess, from her divan on the dais, leaned into her microphone, “Tonight you will dream of Me, pets. Listen and obey…tonight you will dream of Me. In your dreams I will do to you whatever you most desire. Tonight, in your dreams, together W/we will do whatever you most desire…”

“End playback,” the Goddess commanded, causing the screen to revert to its prior wallpaper image.

Many of the delegates shifted uneasily in their seats, seemingly remembering their dreams of the night before. Fawkes coughed nervously. “So you see, Hargrove,” she soothed, recovering her composure, “it was just a dream… a wish fulfillment dream…” On this last phrase she covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a laugh.

Mortified, I retreated from the dining room. I skipped that morning’s hypnosis session, and avoided the others for most of the day. At dinner I ate at a separate table from the Goddess and the delegation. At one point I looked up to see her contemplating me. Catching my eye, she winked and pursed her lips in a quick kiss.

That night sleep eluded me. At first I thought it was shame that kept me awake, but as minutes passed I realized that the sensation preventing me from slumbering was arousal. My cock was rock hard. Images of Goddess Marquesa flowed through my mind. The line of her muscles running the length of her shapely calves. The sway of her hips as she walked to her divan. The moist tension of her lips as she blew me an air kiss. My hand closed around my pulsing shaft.

“Take your hand off that cock, shitstain!” Goddess Marquesa commanded.

I rose in my bed to see her dressed as she was the night before, stunning in black lingerie. The only change in her outfit was a mahogany dildo, strapped to her waist by a leather belt and jutting from her crotch.

“No one cums in My space station without My permission!”

“Are you really here?” I asked.

“That is for Me to know and you to wonder about forever,” she jeered. “What do you want to ask Me, pretty boy?”

“I don’t understand…” I protested.

“Yes you do,” she insisted. “I am past commanding you. If you want My cock you have to beg for it!”

I was amazed at the desire that welled inside of me, but it was impossible to deny. I crawled out of the bed, stood facing away from Goddess Marquesa, and bent over so that my hands were resting on the footboard of the bed.

“Please fuck me up the ass, Goddess!” I pleaded.

With startling strength the Goddess grabbed my hair, pulled me away from the footboard, and drove my head face-first into the mattress of the bed so that my ass was lifted high and my head pressed down low. She ripped my pajama pants away and jammed her dildo into my asshole. She pumped with practiced thrusts, making me moan with simultaneous and indistinguishable pleasure and pain. Snot ran from my nose, tears leaked from my eyes. A pressure built in my balls, and I began to grunt in anticipation of cathartic release.

Yank! The Goddess pulled hard on my hair, sending searing pain through my scalp and down my spine.

“Are you about to cum without my permission, shitbrain?” Goddess snarled. “Don’t you dare! Hold on to your jizz while your Goddess uses you!”

The Goddess put her left hand in the middle of my back and pressed down, holding me still and breathless against the mattress. She grinded her clitoris against the shaft of the dildo rhythmically, working herself toward climax. The pain in my head and lungs kept my balls contained as the Goddess fed her passion. I could feel my ass becoming wet with the sweat pouring off of her torso and the juices flowing from her pussy.

Finally she sung out a high-pitched note of release and shuddered as she orgasmed. When her tremors of ecstasy had subsided she pushed away from my back and head, removing her dildo from my ass with a wet sucking sound. Exhausted, I collapsed onto the mattress like a rag doll.

“Good fucktoy,” the Goddess cooed.

Gasping, I turned to face her. “Please let me cum,” I begged, pointing to my painfully engorged cock. “I’m so hard… so hard… I’ll never sleep.”

“You’ll do what I tell you to do,” the Goddess declared. “Sleep now.”

I woke up the next morning frightened and disoriented. My anus felt stretched and sore, but I no longer trusted my own senses. Goddess Marquesa’s image smiled down from the wall at the foot of my bed. “Good morning, pet,” said her pre-recorded greeting.

I sat down with the other delegates at breakfast, but was too ashamed to make eye contact or engage in small talk. It was our last morning on Shakti Station. After breakfast the Goddess bid our group farewell, and we filed toward the airlock as our luggage was collected from our rooms.

“The Goddess would like a word with you,” slave Rick said as I stepped toward the hatch connecting the station with our shuttle.

“The shuttle is about to leave,” I protested. “There is no time.”

“Goddess decides what there is time for here,” Rick declared.

I followed Rick down a corridor to a door I had not seen before. On its face was a nameplate that read “Goddess.” Rick opened the door and stepped aside to let me enter alone.

The door opened on to a large, luxuriously furnished business office. Goddess sat at a desk which was turned to afford me a full view of her body. She was dressed in the same short blue pastel skirt-suit she had worn on our arrival. Her light blue shoes were up on the desk, so that the full length of her luscious legs was on display.

“Why have you summoned me?” I asked, fighting the lump in my throat.

“Because I don’t think you should leave,” she explained.

“Why not?”

“You have become My chronic slave,” she declared. “I see all the signs. If you leave now the adjustment will be too jarring. Too unhealthy. You need some time to deal with what you feel for Me.”

I laughed. “I have only been here a few days. I am very attracted to you, yes, but…”

“Let Me show you something,” the Goddess interrupted.

As I waited silently, she rose and walked slowly toward me. My heart raced as she approached. When she was inches from me she stopped, gazing deeply into my eyes. I trembled. Her mouth and eyes transfixed my gaze. I could feel her beauty pressing into me, constricting me. Her mouth moved subtly, as if she was sucking on a piece of candy. Suddenly…


She spat in my face. A geyser of saliva covered me, dripping from my eyes and down my cheeks. My lips had been open, and my tongue was suffused by the taste of her mouth.

“Why did you do that?” I groaned.

“Look,” she said, indicating my crotch with her eyes.

Looking down, I saw that an enormous tent had risen in my pants. Being spat at by her had made me rigidly erect.

“Why are you so hard, Doctor?” she asked.

“I… I… I…”


“I can’t help it… I… I…”

“Spit it out, Doctor,” she teased. “No pun intended.”

“I love you!” I gasped.

“That’s a good boy,” the Goddess purred. Walking back to her desk, she pressed a button on her office intercom. “The good doctor will be staying. Let the shuttle leave,” she ordered.

Turning back toward me, the Goddess sat on the desk and let her crossed legs dangle for me to see. She pointed silently at the floor. I required no explanation… I fell to my knees.

“You need release,” she declared. “Stroke for me.”

The orgasm she granted me was the greatest of my life. I nearly lost consciousness.

I cannot return to earth. Not until the Goddess has finished preparing me. I am Hers now, I place my complete trust in Her power. Let this testimony stand as my final report to the delegation and to the Department.
Goddess is Beauty. Goddess is Life. Goddess is Everything. Goddess Marquesa is Supreme. All must do as She desires.



The End