Tag: Emerald Eyes

Taking Liberty

“Dear God in Heaven.”

Those words went spontaneously through my mind as I walked into the copy room. She was bending over a box of letter-size reams, so that her short, tight dress rode up her thighs and exposed the garters holding up her stockings. The supple curves of her ass and the contours of her legs made my heart skip several beats.

“Mr. Fredericks,” she said, straightening with a stack of paper clasped in both hands. “Put this into Tray 1 for me.” She handed me the white sheets and breezed by me toward the door, not pausing to see if I would accede to her command. Read more…

Calling Card

 

Danvers looked at the card again, wondering. It was encased in a cream white envelope, his name and address inked carefully on its face in a beautiful calligraphic hand. He could tell it was a card from its stiffness: whatever it contained was made of something much more resilient than paper. The only mark apart from the address was the monogram GM, printed on the back in large ornamental script.

Curious, Danvers broke the seal and lifted the flap of the envelope. A heavenly scent emanated from inside, a very distinctive and alluring perfume. The card itself was made of stock the same cream shade as the envelope. On its front was drawn a heart with an arrow through it. Inside, in the same hand that had written the address, was a short poem: Read more…

High Stake Trick-or-Treat or A Sucker Every Minute: A Goddess Marquesa Halloween Escapade

dita

The heavy oaken door of the looming gothic mansion creaked open slowly, revealing a dimly lit foyer strewn with dust and cobwebs. “You are expected,” rasped the ancient butler standing in the portal, his stony features icily unmoved by the sight of the beautiful woman standing before him. Green eyes flashed as she reciprocated her dry welcome with a dazzling smile. “I’m so glad,” she replied, her voice lush with tones of poise and experience, “I’ve been so looking forward to meeting the Count.” Read more…

A Perfect Day in Gotham City

“Holy Svengali, Batman, we’re trapped!” Robin cried, wriggling vainly against the ropes that bound him to the table.

“Yes, old chum,” replied Batman. “The last thing I remember was walking in to Goddess Marquesa’s lair. There was a voice and then…then…”

“We woke trussed up like chickens ready for roasting.” Read more…

TRYING TO TAME HER

Marquesa worked her hands down his back, squeezing the muscles, kneading away the tension.  He lay on the massage table, a white fluffy towel wrapped around his waist.  She sighed as her fingers dug in.  She hoped he would tell her that she could stop soon.  Her hands were sore.  Until then she would keep going.  She had to.  He owned her. Read more…

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