Detective Jason Mansfield looked into the dark, penetrating smoldering eyes and could focus only on them and the startlingly beautiful face behind them. He was standing in front of Madame Magda as She focused Her captivating, hypnotic stare on the helpless, totally captivated policeman.
“You will do everything that I command, will you not?” She softly inquired. 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…
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…
PART 2: THE BEGINNING
Jillian Hill was looking forward to her third anniversary dinner with
her husband, Jackson. She had planned it carefully, and made all the
arrangements far in advance. She and Jack were going to eat at their
favorite restaurant and night spot, the Lost World. The music there was
always nice, the light was low and the drinks were potent. Read more…
He couldn’t believe it. He did not know what was wrong. His virtually brand spanking new, state of the art {fully loaded with all the latest bells and whistles}, high-end computer system’s processor and hard drive were frustratingly slower than an elderly half-dead slug crawling sideways through molasses, superglue, and hardening cement. The CD tray kept opening and closing on its own. All these and other intermittently tormenting nagging nuisances had bedeviled him since he’d followed her suggestion. His very mysterious, bewitching new lady neighbour had told him to link to a site known as “soothing slumbers” when he said he suffered from insomnia. The only reason he’d told her about his sleeping problem was because he hoped that opening up a little would help him get in good with this charming woman he wanted so much. The know-it-all part of his conscience mercilessly chided him unstoppably. “That’s what you get for taking a woman’s advice just because you want to get in good with her. Next time, don’t let your sex drive do your brain’s job.” Read more…
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