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…
“Goddess be praised, he’s alive,” a strange man’s voice declared as strong hands fished Edward out of the churning surf.
Edward hung limp as his body was dragged up the beach. The feeling of being on solid ground was strange. He had been airborne, shaken by a storm like a maraca in the fist of a mad dancer. After his plane ditched in the ocean and he swam free of the cabin, he had bobbed for hours like a cork tossed by crashing waves. A world that was suddenly not in constant motion in all three dimensions was now as jarring as it was pleasant. 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…
I first saw her shortly after I was elected Mayor of this Florida West Coach beach town. She was stunning in a bright pink sun dress that hugged her curves and showed her magnificent breasts and shapely legs to devastating effect. The desire began with that first glance, but I had no idea how intense it would become. It was a sunny day and she was wearing sunglasses, so I would only be hit by her piercing green eyes later, when we had dinner in the evening. Those witchy eyes on top of her exquisite face, luscious form, and gorgeous blond tresses were almost too much to bear.
It was 6:00am and the slave was still lying on the mattress in a corner of the room when Mistress Marquesa walked into the room. She wore a white sleeveless blouse and a white mini skirt which betrayed the flaming red underwear she had on. With a pair of transparent short spiked heel ankle boots.
The slave rushed to greet her on all fours as he had been instructed to and went straight to kiss the toe of her pointed boots.
“Stop there and crawl slave, I hate to find you still in bed.”
“I am not in a whipping mood today, but you will suffer just the same.
Lie on your back slave.” She commanded. Read more…
