The passengers lined up at the gangplank gawked, the anticipation of boarding a luxury cruise ship momentarily forgotten in the shock of an uncanny spectacle. The sight of a grown man, on his knees, bawling like a toddler, was titillating and disorienting all at once. Almost as unnerving as the man’s hysterics was the blithe indifference of the woman he had accosted.

She had drawn attention even before the man had jumped from behind a pile of luggage and thrown himself at her feet. Her brightly printed sun-dress was made of a gossamer material that flowed around her body in the sea breeze, accentuating her tantalizing curves. The short length of her dress exposed magnificent legs sheathed in sheer translucent silk, and her black patent-leather stiletto heels accentuated the shapeliness of her calves and ankles. Glistening blond curls cascaded around elegant shoulders, dark sunglasses lent a mystique to her classically beautiful features. Even before the ruckus had begun the woman had caused a minor stir, as husbands ogled her surreptitiously and wives muttered jealous disapproval. When her turn came and she was about to board the gangplank, an older, balding, heavy-set man had suddenly appeared, falling to the ground on both knees as if to stop her from boarding the boat.

“Goddess Marquesa, please!” the man cried, his voice a hoarse croak of desperation and torment. “I can’t stop thinking about You! What will I do if I can’t tell You how much I worship You for a week!? I’ll go mad!”

Goddess Marquesa showed no surprise at this outburst. Bending slightly at the knees, she calmly set down the small tote bag she carried in her right hand. Straightening again, she brought her freed hand, open-palmed, across the face of the kneeling man with a resounding “thwack!” that could be heard the length of the dock. Everyone, including the man, went stone silent.

“Fantasize about that while I am away,” the Goddess commanded into the echoing silence.

The man knelt stunned for several moments, a bright red welt rising on his cheek. Finally, he spoke. “Yes, Goddess! I will…I…”

“Thank me,” Goddess Marquesa interrupted, extending her foot and pointing imperatively.

“Yes, Goddess! Thank you, Goddess!” The man pitched forward and kissed the offered foot greedily, almost driving his face into the pier in his eagerness to be obsequious.

Goddess Marquesa stepped onto the gangplank without another glance at the man groveling at her feet.

“Wait, Miss!” a voice from behind called. Turning, she saw a ruggedly handsome man holding the tote bag that she had set down on the pier. He was of a medium build, with close-cropped hair and a military bearing. A canvas duffle was draped over his right shoulder. “We wouldn’t want you to forget this!”

“Thank you,” Goddess Marquesa replied. The glint in the man’s eyes told her that he was intrigued. She knew this would be the response of many of the men that had just witnessed the scene at the gangplank. Seeing her effect on others generally pushed men from attraction into temptation, it was a curious but, in the Goddess’s experience, infallibly reliable response of the male psyche to her natural dominance. Smiling noncommittally, she accepted the bag and continued up the gangplank. As she made her way, she saw someone looking down at her from the top deck through a pair of binoculars. From his uniform, she surmised that he was the captain of the ship. Goddess Marquesa smiled to herself, thinking, “Thanks to that slave, whoever he was, I already have a lot of fish on the hook.”

Unsurprisingly, the Goddess had only been in her cabin for a few minutes when a knock came. “The captain would like you to dine at his table,” the polite young cruise-ship officer at the door declared, extending a monogrammed envelope containing a formal invitation. “I’d be delighted,” she replied. Goddess Marquesa had initially been unenthusiastic when one of her wealthier slaves had gifted her with this cruise, but perhaps it would be diverting after all.

Two hours later, after the ship had left port and was on its way to sea, heads turned to stare as the Goddess approached the Captain’s Table in the ship’s Grand Ballroom. Her short black dress hugged the contours of her form sinuously, and the languid roll of her hips set the lines of her body into thrilling motion. Standing to offer her a chair, the captain’s face telegraphed his excitement that his binoculars had not lied.

“Thank you all for joining me,” the captain announced to the table at large, once Goddess Marquesa was seated. Resuming his own seat, he asked, “Why don’t we introduce ourselves? I’ll begin. I am Captain Stubing, the commander of this ship.”

An embarrassed pause followed this announcement. “Isn’t that the name of the captain of that classic romantic/comedy t.v. series ‘Love Boat?’” Goddess Marquesa asked, breaking the silence.

“Yes,” the captain replied, smiling good-naturedly. “I loved that show as a kid. I don’t think I knew I’d be a cruise ship captain back then, but it kind of makes sense, huh?”

The Goddess returned the captain’s smile warmly, always glad to encounter an influential man with an uncomplicated mind. Goddess Marquesa introduced herself, and then the other guests around the table followed. There was a retired couple on vacation from Illinois, a business executive and his wife from LA, two twin sisters just graduated from college who had been sent on the cruise as a gift from their parents, and then the handsome man who had handed the Goddess her tote bag at the gangplank. He gazed meaningfully at Goddess Marquesa as he told everyone that his name was Aldo.

“So,” the captain said, turning to Goddess Marquesa, “who was that man at the gangplank? Your husband? Boyfriend?”

“No, I’m single,” the Goddess replied.

“I see,” noted the captain, obviously pleased at the news. “Who was he, then?”

“I’m not sure.”

This drew curious looks around the table.

“You see,” continued Goddess Marquesa, “I interact with many men over the phone as part of my work.”

“You’re a kind of therapist, then?” asked the captain.

“You could say that,” offered the Goddess. “Many of the men I talk with develop very powerful feelings for me. It is a professional hazard.”

“Well,” said the captain unctuously, flashing a toothy smile, “I would say it is a risk you experience with any man you might encounter.”

“You’re sweet,” the Goddess replied, turning to grin suggestively at Aldo. He did not seem fazed, but returned her glance with steady warmth. “Tell me,” Goddess Marquesa said, changing the subject, “What is that interesting piece of technology you keep fiddling with, captain?”

The captain picked up the object in question, a rectangular screened device slightly larger than a smart phone, which had been laid on the table by his right hand. “This is the key to the ship, so to speak,” he declared. “From this portable device I can control all the ships systems, from the speed of the engines down to the temperature of the hot tub in the spa.”

“Will wonders never cease?” Goddess Marquesa observed drily.

At this the waiters arrived with the first course of the meal, and polite chatter broke out around the table. The captain described their route to them as dinner was served. The ship was headed down the coast of Mexico, toward Acapulco. As course followed course, the conversation around the table was of beaches and historic Spanish churches. The food was excellent, though neither Aldo nor the captain savored much of the meal. Both men were too preoccupied devouring Goddess Marquesa with their eyes.

As the dinner plates were being cleared, the Goddess pushed back from the table. “Excuse me,” she announced, “I must use the powder room.”

“Hurry back,” the captain said with his best attempt at a dashing grin, as he and the rest of the men at the table rose.

Emerging from the restroom, Goddess Marquesa was surprised to see Aldo, walking away from her down the corridor that led off of the Grand Ballroom, toward the interior of the ship. On first seeing him she thought that he might have come looking to flirt with her, away from the captain. She was about to call out to him when it became clear that flirting was not his purpose. He was walking much too determinedly, he clearly knew where he was going. Curious, Goddess Marquesa withdrew into the shadow of the restroom vestibule where she could observe Aldo unseen. He made his way down to the end of the dark corridor, where there was a door marked “Crew Only.” Checking about to see that the coast was clear, Aldo walked through the door.

An ordinary woman would most likely have minded her own business. Goddess Marquesa crept quietly down the corridor and followed Aldo through the door. It led her into a storage area behind the ship’s kitchens. Since dinner was in full swing, the area was unlit. But Goddess Marquesa could hear voices a few yards off, on the other side of a large bank of refrigerators. She tiptoed closer to listen.

“Did the weapons make it aboard?” Aldo asked.

“Yes,” a man’s voice answered, “The guns and ammo were all in crates marked ‘prime beef.’ The tear gas canisters, grenades, and explosives were all in potato sacks. I’ve had the wait staff who are in on the plan bringing equipment out to the other members of the team, piece-by-piece, during dinner service. By now everyone should be packing.”

“Where’s mine?”

“Here,” the voice replied. Goddess Marquesa heard the working of a metal bolt. “It’s loaded, a Glock 9mm with an extended magazine. You can fire ten rounds before you need to change clips.”

“The Senator’s daughters are seated at my table,” Aldo declared. “At 8 PM sharp we spring the takeover of the ship. I’ll see to taking the daughters into custody and securing them in the ‘locker room.’ My squad will hold the other passengers in the ballroom. Your men have to sweep the rest of the ship for any strays.”

At that moment Goddess Marquesa’s cell phone began to ring. The voices stopped. Footsteps hurriedly approached from the other side of the bank of refrigerators. Aldo appeared, followed by a short, older man dressed in chef’s whites.

“Who the fuck is this?” the older man exclaimed.

“This is Goddess Marquesa,” Aldo answered. “She and I have been getting acquainted since the voyage started.”

Goddess Marquesa had managed to open her phone, but the speed of the men hadn’t given her time to speak. Aldo held out his hand, palm up. When the Goddess surrendered the phone, he held it to his ear.

“Goddess Marquesa, I need to hear your voice!” a man on the other end declared, loudly enough to be heard by both bystanders. “I’m going mad at the thought that you will be gone for more than a week!”

“Goddess Marquesa can’t talk right now,” Aldo said, “she will call you back later.” Hanging up the phone, he put it into his own pocket. “Was that our friend from the dock?” he asked.

“If he has my personal cell phone number, almost certainly not,” Goddess Marquesa replied.

Aldo laughed wryly. “Two men driven mad with longing. And that is no doubt the tip of the iceberg- as dangerous as it is to say so on a cruise ship. You really are a bewitching woman. But you should have stuck to enchantments and avoided detective work. Now we have a problem.”

“We should kill her!” Aldo’s companion hissed.

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re not murderers.”

“Then let me tie and gag her. I can keep her in one of the pantry lockers until the ship is secure.”

“There is no need for that. She is seated at my table. I will keep an eye on her until the plan is sprung. Goddess Marquesa knows I have a gun, she is smart enough to have no doubts that I will use it if she causes trouble.”

The man in chef’s whites grunted disapproval, but relented. “You’re in charge,” he said. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.” With that, he skulked off to await the start of the plan.

“You’ve made a mistake,” Goddess Marquesa said, smiling at Aldo. “You should have listened to your friend.”

Aldo raised his eyebrow in surprise. “You would rather I restrained you?”

“Of course not,” the Goddess replied. “I was making an observation, not expressing a wish. You are an attractive man, Aldo…” He smiled at this statement, and made to say something, but Goddess Marquesa continued forcefully, cutting him off, “…and I might have enjoyed watching you compete with the captain to become my pet, but I can’t let you kidnap those young women at our table.”

“And you are going to stop me?” Aldo asked incredulously.

“Yes I am,” replied the Goddess coolly.

Aldo laughed. “Oh please, ‘Goddess,’” he barked sarcastically. “The captain was gullible enough to picture you as a therapist, but I’m not such a fool. The pleading men…the phone calls. You’re a sex worker, not a superhero.”

Godddess Marquesa betrayed no reaction to these words. She stepped forward into Aldo’s space, so that her breasts touched the front of his shirt and her thigh rested in the hollow of his crotch. Her fragrance enveloped him, and the moist warmth of her breath caressed his face as she spoke:

“This is all too easy,” she began, her lips inches from his, “your desire for me has already thrown off your judgment. You told your friend that you could keep an eye on me, but what you were really saying was that you can’t take your eyes off of me. That is why you can’t let me be put away in a storage pantry.”

“That’s not…” Aldo began to protest.

“That is exactly what you meant,” the Goddess interrupted, retaining command of the moment. “You’ve underestimated me. Sex worker or not, I am a kind of superhero. You’ve seen what I can do. You don’t think I can bring you as low as those other men, but it’s already begun. I’m smarter than you, I have strength you can’t guess at.”

“I have a whole team of men, and guns,” Aldo retorted.

“In the end that won’t matter,” Goddess Marquesa continued, “because I will have one crucial ally.”

“Who?” Aldo asked.

“You,” declared the Goddess. “You will want to be defeated, to be conquered by me. You want it already. It is what men who fall under my spell always yearn for most, deep down inside.  Even if you could escape my mind and my strength, you won’t be able to escape your own desire.”

Goddess Marquesa stopped speaking and let the silence hang between them, her lips hovering an inch from his. For a moment Aldo trembled, as if he was fighting the urge to kiss her. Then he shook himself.

“Let’s go back to the table before we’re missed,” he declared. “The plan jumps off in less than an hour. Until then, don’t test me. If you make a wrong move, I will prove all of your theories wrong. Your allure may be very powerful, but it doesn’t make you bullet-proof.”

Goddess Marquesa smiled and backed away from Aldo. Together they walked back into the Grand Ballroom, where dessert and coffee were being served. “Where were you two?” asked the captain as they resumed their seats. “We missed you!”

“Just finding our sea legs,” Goddess Marquesa said, showing no sign of anxiety, “we made it back in time for dessert, didn’t we?”

As the waiters poured coffee, Goddess Marquesa turned to the captain coquettishly.

“Show me this device of yours, captain,” she cooed, pointing to the control tablet still laying on the table. “How does it work?”

The captain picked up the device and tapped in an access code, then he turned to show the screen to Goddess Marquesa. “See here,” he said, pointing, “these icons all control different aspects of the ship’s systems.”

“What would happen if I touched this?” the Goddess asked, indicating one of the large icons on the screen.

“Oh, don’t do that!” the captain warned, laughing. “That would cut the power to all the lights.”

“No!” shouted Aldo, realization dawning a moment too late.

Goddess Marquesa tapped the touchscreen, plunging the ballroom and the rest of the ship into darkness. A shot rang out, and a muzzle flash illuminated the table momentarily. Screams erupted all around.

“No one move!” Aldo screamed. A hushed silence followed as the collected passengers sat in the dark, wondering what had just transpired. After a few seconds emergency lights illuminated the ballroom. Aldo and his confederates, a dozen men dispersed throughout the room, were all standing, pistols in hand.

“Everyone remain seated!” Aldo commanded the frightened passengers. “Crew members down on the floor!” he continued, pointing at the officers and wait staff standing at various points in the large hall. Turning to his men, he barked, “Cover the exits!” At this, four members of Aldo’s team dispersed, each to one of the large doors leading into the ballroom, where they took up positions so as to block anyone’s escape. One of the doors, the one leading off to the stern portside, however, was swinging on its hinges.

“Where is Goddess Marquesa?” Aldo shouted, directing the question to the captain, who was now sitting next to an empty chair.

“I don’t know,” the captain replied, cringing. “She disappeared, and took the ship’s key with her.”

“Dammit!” exclaimed Aldo. Pulling an earpiece from his jacket pocket, he fixed it in his right ear. Next he drew forth a small walkie-talkie. Turning a dial to select a frequency, he pressed the “send” button and spoke into the transmitter, “Max, we have a problem. The woman has forced us to spring the plan early. She shut down the power and took off with the ship’s key.”

“Shit!” a voice answered in Aldo’s earpiece, “I told you we should have killed her!”

“Pat yourself on the back later. We have to get back that key. She headed out through the stern port door of the ballroom. Go find her. Meanwhile send your men to round up strays and bring them to the ballroom for safe-keeping. I’m taking the girls to the ‘locker room.’”

“All right. But when I find that bitch, she’s dead.”

“I don’t care at this point. Just get the damn key.”

Releasing the “transmit button,” Aldo turned to the two young women sitting at his table. Pointing his gun, he said, “You young ladies will come with me. We will have to contact your father to arrange a ransom for you.” Turning to the captain, he declared, “And you will accompany us…”

 

 

 

Max hurried down the port corridor of the ballroom deck, pistol in hand. She was probably headed toward the spa, where there were plenty of places to hide. Or perhaps she would make her way up one flight and out onto the poop deck, where she might try to duck into one of the covered lifeboats.

As he took inventory of the possible hiding spots ahead, he turned a corner to approach the spa….and received a jarring chop to the windpipe, sending him back into the wall of the corridor. Choking for air and struggling to regain his balance, he saw Goddess Marquesa emerge from around the bend he had been about to navigate, where she had been lying in ambush. Before he could raise his guard, her fist crashed like a piston into his solar plexus, sending him gasping to the carpet. From flat on his back he tried feebly to pull himself up and raise his weapon, but a stiletto-clad foot swept the pistol from his hand with unhurried ease.

As Max lay turtled, he heard Goddess Marquesa retrieve his weapon. Pistol in hand, she straddled his prone form and eased herself down until she was seated on his chest, pinning him helplessly to the floor. “How nice to see you again,” she said, her voice buttery-smooth. “I would like to have some information about your and Aldo’s little plan.”

“Up yours,” Max wheezed, the effort of talking excruciatingly painful. “I’ll tell you nothing.”

“Oh, you are wrong about that,” the Goddess declared blithely. “You have none of Aldo’s boyish charm, but…” She placed an exploratory hand on Max’s crotch, where she found, as she expected, that his cock was hard, “…you feel my power as tangibly as he does. I want you to listen to my voice. You can’t help but find it relaxing. Look into my eyes. That’s right. You feel yourself becoming sleepy….”

 

 

Aldo looked at his three prisoners. He had bound their hands and feet for good measure, but otherwise insured that they were comfortable. The captain’s private office, where they were all ensconced, was well appointed with plush couches and easy chairs for relaxed lounging. Aldo knew from his research on the ship that this office was designed as a kind of “panic room” in the event of an emergency, its steel door could not be entered without a key code known only to the captain himself. Since the captain was bound next to his two valuable hostages, there was no one on the ship, even among Aldo’s own confederates, that could get to them.

“Don’t worry ladies,” Aldo said, fingering the console of the ship-to-shore radio he had just used to contact the US mainland. “I’m sure my demands will be swiftly conveyed to your father. He will no doubt consider $20 million a small price to pay for such lovely daughters. This should all be over soon.”

As he finished these words, a thrillingly familiar voice poured silkily into his earpiece:

“Mes esclaves. This is the Goddess Marquesa. You will listen to my voice. Listen and obey. You feel yourselves relaxing….”

Aldo sprang to his feet. Pressing the “transmit” button on his handset, he shouted, “No, Marquesa! I was trained in psy-ops by the Special Forces; I recognize what you’re trying to do. I don’t know how you broke into our comm network, but I won’t let you use it to hypnotize my team. I’ve got the master transmitter, and I will shut down the network if I have to.”

Aldo released the “transmit” button and waited, listening. The voice in his earpiece fell silent. After a few moments, a different voice spoke up:

“Aldo, look out the rear porthole of the office.” It was Max.

Aldo spoke into the transmitter again. “What?” he asked.

“Look out the rear porthole of the office.”

Aldo walked to where he had been directed and looked. Outside he saw that one of the outboard lifeboats had been partially lowered, so that it was suspended just outside the office porthole. Max was seated inside, holding his transmitter and wearing a life vest.

“What are you doing, Max?” Aldo asked into his transmitter.

“I must obey Goddess Marquesa,” Max answered. So saying, he leaned off of the gun whale of the lifeboat and plunged backwards into the ocean.

“Holy shit!” Aldo exclaimed in disbelief. Turning from the porthole, he froze in mid-action.

“Hello, Aldo,” Goddess Marquesa said brightly, holding Max’s pistol aimed at Aldo’s heart.

“How did you get in here?” Aldo asked, his voice strained with shock. “Only the captain has the code, and I have the captain.”

“The captain is a submissive man with an appetite for classic TV,” Goddess Marquesa replied, “it wasn’t rocket science to figure out that his passcode was ‘gingergrant’. Now slowly take out your pistol, remove the clip, and throw it over here by me.”

Aldo did as he was directed. When he was disarmed, he raised his hands in the air and walked slowly away from the porthole. “I really did underestimate you, Goddess, but you have to tell me one thing.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” the Goddess answered, “but ask and I’ll see how I feel.”

“Well…” Aldo began, lowering his eyes. With blinding speed he sprang at Goddess Marquesa, seizing the pistol still clasped in her hands. A struggle ensued, each combatant straining to point the gun at his or her opponent.

Aldo leaned into the task with all his bulk, amazed at the resistance he encountered. The arc of their joined arms bent briefly toward Goddess Marquesa as Aldo exerted all of his strength, but slowly turned back in the opposite direction. The proximity to her, the fragrance of her perfume, the heat coming off her body, were all disorienting. Aldo felt his muscles begin to give way. He was forced to bend at the knees in order to keep the muzzle from aligning with his face. This gave Goddess Marquesa added leverage, and she seized the advantage of gravity to drive Aldo further down. He fell to his knees, and still the muzzle of the weapon advanced.

“Are you doing this?” he pleaded, staring into Goddess Marquesa’s brilliant green eyes in amazement, “or am I, subconsciously?”

“That is for me to know,” the Goddess answered, “and you to wonder about for the rest of your life.”

Aldo strained every muscle, but watched, helpless, as the pistol closed in. It did not stop when it was pointed at his face, but advanced relentlessly, forcing its way past his lips and teeth until he held the muzzle of the gun in his mouth. He did not know why or how this had happened, but as he tasted the cold metal and stared into the piercing emerald eyes that bore down on him like those of an avenging angel, he knew he was beaten. This magnificent woman had beaten him.

As right as she had been, as good as it felt to be her captive, he did not want to go to prison. There was one thing left to do. He pressed his thumb over her right index finger and squeezed, working the trigger of the gun. He closed his eyes in anticipation, but was met with only a hollow “click” as the hammer of the pistol connected with an empty chamber.

“Did you think it would be that easy to escape me?” asked Goddess Marquesa. She leaned in, withdrawing the pistol from Aldo’s mouth and placing her own mouth over his. He savored her kiss for an exquisitely long minute, and then collapsed onto his rump, his legs splayed akimbo, his face a mask of blank surrender.

Goddess Marquesa picked up the master transmitter from where it lay on the floor next to Aldo, forgotten. Turning the dial to “All Frequencies” she pressed the “transmit” button and spoke, “Hello again, mes esclaves. We were interrupted before, but this is Goddess Marquesa once again. Listen and obey. You can feel yourselves becoming very relaxed…”

The voice in Aldo’s earpiece was the most beautiful sound he had ever encountered. A tear rolled down his cheek as he let go of all of his cares and plans and gave in to the pleasure of that voice. That voice….

 

 

“Mmmmm…that feels good pet. Don’t stop,” Goddess Marquesa purred.

“I have been summoned to the bridge, Goddess,” the captain protested, even as he obediently resumed his massaging of Goddess Marquesa’s feet.

“Send one of your underlings. I need you here.”

“Yes, Goddess,” the captain answered meekly.

Goddess Marquesa stretched luxuriously. The captain’s cabin, which she had commandeered, was very spacious. The king-size bed with which it was equipped was much more comfortable than the small bed her guest cabin contained.

“Enough massage,” the Goddess declared after a few minutes. “It is time for the captain to go down on his ship.”

After the captain had served her, the Goddess allowed him to sleep curled on the floor at the foot of the bed like a good puppy. With the lights out, as she basked in a post-climactic glow and felt the gentle rolling of the ship, she thought of Aldo. It would have been nice to keep him alongside the captain as a pair of matched slaves for this voyage. But he had earned his fate.

She thought of the scene at the docks as they dropped off Aldo and his accomplices in Puerto Vallarta. As the Federales led him away, he broke down, flinging himself at Goddess Marquesa’s feet. “Goddess Marquesa, please!” he cried, “What will I do if I can’t tell You how much I worship You!? I’ll go mad! Help me!”

She slapped him across the face. He was dragged away before he could kiss her feet in thanks, but he would at least have that slap and one kiss to cling to in prison. Many men had survived on less.

“It was better than he deserved…” breathed Goddess Marquesa through a languid yawn, and drifted contentedly to sleep….

 

 

 

The End