Tag: Marquesa

tracie’s JOURNEY TO THE HOOKERS BALL WITH MARQUESA

 

I woke up at the foot of the bed one morning, after a brutal session with Marquesa. My bottom was still red with welts. Marquesa was standing above me with a wicked smile and said She had a surprise for me for Halloween. We were going to the Hookers Masquerade Ball in San Francisco. It is a benefit for a non-profit that helps hookers in various ways, but is turning into a Fetish ball that stops at nothing. Read more…

Tabula Rasa

Begin Transcription:

 

Day One

 

 

The woman holding me prisoner has commanded me to keep this journal. At first I refused on principle, but as there is little else to occupy me, and this record might prove useful to police and prosecutors when she is finally arrested and tried, I have decided to do so. I do not remember my name or how I came to be here. The mirror reveals me to be a man in his mid- to late-fifties, but my appearance provides few other clues to my identity. My only clothes are a hospital gown, though I do not think that I am in a hospital. Read more…

New Year’s Resolution Better Late Than Never

“He is passably cute,” I thought to myself as I sat across the Green Room from the professor. Not an Adonis, but not ugly either. And the tweed jacket with leather patches at the elbows gave him a quaint, nerdy appeal. It was just an idle notion. Though it was true that 2018 had been a bad year for me, and I needed cheering up, it hadn’t occurred to me that adding a new pet to my menagerie was the tonic I needed for 2019. Not yet, anyway. Read more…

Training by Audio Recording

I have almost stopped listening to the recording. I’m not sure why. If anything, its effect on me is stronger. When I do listen, I slip easily into that state where I am not intently listening to Mistress’s beautiful voice, I’m just concentrating on the feelings her voice evokes. Sometimes it’s like my body is completely empty and her voice–a single, perfectly formed word–absolutely fills it. I can tell she speaks softly, with her lips almost touching the microphone, because I can feel her breath as she shapes the word. Then it’s as if my whole body is that microphone, and her voice delicately pulses me right down to my toes. Read more…

A Very Goddess Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and as was her custom, Goddess Marquesa was surveying the many gifts that she had received from adoring worshipers the world over. There were packages from places as far away as Vanuatu, and others from nearby suburbs, so many boxes that they barely fit under her tree. These she would open Christmas morning. Read more…

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