A story inspired by Goddess Marquesa
The package arrived at my office wrapped in plain brown paper and addressed to “Dr. Fletcher, PsyD MD.” Inside was a wooden box, stained a light red-ochre color, with the name “Pandora” painted on the cover in gold leaf. It was accompanied by a note in a round feminine hand: Read more…
The envelope was on heavy stock suitable for a formal invitation, Inside was a card announcing a limousine service exclusively for executives visiting Southern California; also enclosed was a short, handwritten note that said simply “We’re so certain that you will want to use our services that we are offering you complimentary pick-up and full time limo service on your next trip. Please call MarquesaCo.” A number was printed on the bottom. Read more…
A Goddess Marquesa Christmas Adventure
Goddess Marquesa took another sip of her eggnog and looked appreciatively at her hostess’s Christmas tree. Mistress Henrietta made a good nog and had good taste in Christmas décor, the Goddess had to give her that. Right at eye level was a charming glass ornament, showing Santa on his hands and knees, ball-gag in mouth, being dominated by a gorgeously boot-clad, whip-bearing Woman. It could have been modeled on a scene six weeks ago, when Goddess Marquesa last saw Santa in person. Read more…
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.
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…
