Together, these energizing words and Marquesa’s knowing, sure *touch* exercise a speedy, noticeably strong impact on Larry. His breathing becomes shallow and quickens, and his hand on Her left breast unconsciously clamps down, squeezing the breast and quickening Her breathing as well. His cock not only hardens in Her hand but She can also feel it expanding outward against Her encircling palm, forcing Her fingers apart, much as a growing tree root drives apart rocks and mortar — and causing Her to wish She were squeezing it with her vaginal muscles instead of Her fingers! She goes on, “…knowing all along that..She is ALLL-WAYYS STRONNNG-GERR than you…[Here, Marquesa’s vaginal muscles reflexively begin to contract on Larry’s imaginary cock]…ALLL-WAYYS MORE POWWERR-FULL than you can evverr be — and it is..Her winning out — Her Over-COME!-ing you — that EXCITES YOU MOST — that really..GETS YOU OFF?” [As Marquesa describes the ‘climax’ of Larry’s struggle, She can feel him trembling — literally trembling — and his cock absolutely rock hard, with excitement — SEXXX!-ual excitement.]…Do EYYE have that..Correct?” Read more…
Tag: Emerald Eyes
One dreary, overcast autumn weekday morning finds Goddess Marquesa puttering around Her house. Well, not so much puttering as attending to mundane (read non-fetish) business that, to Her, seems as dreary as the weather outside. Exciting? No, far from it. She expressed Her feelings about this work when She once admonished a subject who innocently inquired what She was up to, replying crossly, “I don’t have time to sit around all day in black leather, eating bonbons and playing with sex toys. Sometimes, things need to be done!” Her choice of clothing, no surprise, is entirely congruent with accomplishing mundane but necessary tasks; She’s comfortably attired in a blue pastel cotton blouse, casually knotted around Her waist, a pair of cut-off jeans, and flip flops. Decidedly non-fetish apparel, but having spent the last two hours paying bills and fine tuning a couple of balky links on Her website, She’s not in a fetish mood. Bored, cranky, stifling a yawn, and needing a break, Marquesa is heading to the kitchen for a much needed cup of coffee when Her doorbell rings. Sighing deeply, She wonders, Now, who could that be? Read more…
Still, there remains one final detail, one last demonstration of Her Power, to manifest. “MYY PET,” She transmits, using this term of address for the first time, indicating as much fondness for a subject as She can summon up, “OUR EVENING IS COMING TO AN END…But before it does..EYYE WANT YOU..TO..JOIN ME IN A TOAST TO CELEBRATE OUR ENCOUNTER. YOU WILL..OPEN YOUR EYES!..AND REMAIN DEEP a-SLEEP!!” Read more…
To the gentle, rhythmic stimulus of Her subject’s hand in Her lap, Marquesa’s body reflexively begins to respond. Contracting gently, Her pelvis begins to move in synchrony with his ministrations, so naturally that this movement happens at the very edge of Her sensory awareness — if She senses it at all — and Her body from Her kneecaps up to Her navel begins to move in and out in the same rhythm. Certainly, Marquesa has placed Herself a mood that is most receptive for dessert. Read more…
The maitre’d’s spoon clinks on the cooking pan, ending Marquesa’s reverie and returning Her attention to the masterful show he is putting on. With the meat almost done, he spoons a bed of mashed potato onto the dinner plate and then carefully arranges the steak slices over and around the potato. Next, he neatly pours the pan juices over the steak and potato, and places the platter before Marquesa’s prey. Lastly, he places a very hot side dish of creamed spinach next to the sizzling serving platter. To Marquesa, the steak alone smells aromatic enough to make a tyrannosaurus rex drool. In fact, it looks so good that She almost wishes She had ordered this dish instead of pheasant. Oh well, next time, She thinks. She transmits to Her subject, “YOU WILL NOW..THANK THE MAITRE’D FOR HIS PERFORMANCE. AND..YOU WILL DO SO NOWW!!” Read more…
