Tag: High Heels

A Friend Indeed   …a Goddess Marquesa birthday adventure  

A Friend Indeed


…a Goddess Marquesa birthday adventure



            We all have friends that we are not so friendly to. Well…maybe everyone doesn’t, but I do. Lots of them. Among women it is pretty common. Some of the women you know put you on your best behavior, others bring out the bitch in you. This is a story about a woman who brought out my inner bitch.

I forget the exact circumstances where we met. Maybe at the hotel by the beach where we go for sunset cocktails some Friday nights. Maybe at a lunch date on a weekday. I can’t remember who brought her into the group. Terry, I think. But I remember my first impression of her. She had just moved to Palm Harbor from California, and had a little bit of a “lost girl” vibe. Trying to find her footing in a new social scene. So of course I made her feel welcome…not. Read more…

Pussy Whipped Christmas

I saw the email at 4:06 PM, December 24. It had been sent at 3:30. “Get here within one hour and you will have the chance for a special reward.” It was from Goddess Marquesa. I sprang from my desk, told the office manager I had an emergency for which I had to leave, and raced for my car. Read more…

Serving at a Superior Female’s Feet

INTRO:  We’ll skip our usual, long-winded introduction for this tale which we found to be completely self-explanatory.  Hope it gives you the kicks (especially if delivered by lovely, nylon-clad foot) that it did for Mistress and me! Read more…

The Grace of the Witch

by not so wiley coyote

D.H. Lawrence claimed the novel was the greatest invention since the telescope because it wouldn’t let you tell lies and put them over. To get you to believe what happened in Florida may take a novel. I’m having some problems believing some of it myself. Read more…

The Marquesa Triangle

           “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…


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