Alan Crosby had been working in the accounting department of the Drummond Corporation for less than two weeks when he became aware of a tall, very beautiful, deeply tanned, platinum blonde who had been watching him intently and was obviously making no secret of her interest in him. Out of curiosity he inquired of one of his coworkers who she was and, to his surprise, was told that she was Myra Drummond, only daughter of the company's major stockholder, chairman and chief executive officer, Silas Drummond. Although she held no formal company title, most employees felt that she was the real power behind the throne.

At that point Alan decided that, whatever the basis for this young woman's interest in him, he should do nothing to encourage it. Mixing business and pleasure was not, in his opinion, a good idea, particularly with the daughter of the company's owner and CEO; he didn't feel he needed a relationship like this in order to advance in the company, and if such a relationship didn't work out, it could be the kiss of death for his job.

After several weeks on the job, Myra began stopping by Alan's cubicle to ask how his job was working out, then later suggesting that they have lunch together, and finally inviting him to spend a weekend at her family's island retreat. During this period he also became aware that she was almost a head taller than he, at least 6' compared to his diminutive 5'1", something he had not realized before because she was so perfectly proportioned for her height, and which to him was yet another reason not to get involved with her. Each time he was able to respectfully decline her invitation, using the excuse of prior engagements, which she seemed to accept gracefully.

Then, after six months on the job, Alan was relaxing on his favorite ocean beach when, to his surprise, he saw Myra striding up the beach toward him. This time, however, there was no invitation, and she made it clear that she would not accept no for an answer.

Before he could resist, she wrapped one arm around his lower chest and lifted him bodily almost a foot off the sand. As he cried out in protest, with her free hand she reached around him to cover his mouth, force it open and push a small, hard ball into his mouth, a ball that was too large to swallow and effectively gagged him into nothing more than ineffective, almost inaudible squeals of protest, nowhere near loud enough to be heard more than a few feet away.

Whirling, she tucked his small frame securely under one strong arm and, all but ignoring his puny efforts to pull her other hand away from his mouth, took off running swiftly and smoothly down the beach. There were no other people in sight, and, muffled as he was, he could not call for help to anyone who might have been loitering on the other side of the dunes, so all he could do was struggle ineffectually against her powerful grip as she carried him effortlessly and seemingly tirelessly down the long, sandy beach.
Finally they reached a cement pier at the end of which was moored a small yacht with a man sitting at the wheel, apparently asleep. Without hesitating, Myra carried Alan out the pier and, still holding him securely under one arm with her other hand covering his mouth, effortlessly leaped over the bulkhead and into the rear lower deck.
She immediately seated herself on the starboard seat and transferred Alan to her lap. While still holding him helpless and unable to cry out for help, she called up to the man at the wheel to wake him up and begin the journey to the Drummond private island. Startled, the man called Chris apologized and immediately started the engine and turned the yacht out into the ocean.
They were a couple of miles offshore when Myra decided to have some fun with Alan. Pulling the ball out of and releasing his mouth, she quickly covered his open mouth with hers and silenced him again with a powerful kiss, but not before he was able to manage a quick call for help which Chris heard over the roar of the boat's engine. Pulling back on the throttle, Chris let the yacht coast to a slow crawl in the smooth water and called back to Myra.
When she didn't answer, he came back to peer down into the rear cockpit. Amazed and alarmed at what he saw, an obvious kidnapping by Myra of her helpless captive, he immediately protested, but his objection was ignored by Myra.
As he informed Myra that he intended to return to shore, Myra quickly tucked Alan under her right arm and, holding him helpless, quickly climbed the ladder to the upper deck to confront her recalcitrant employee.
With her left hand she gripped Chris by his throat, lifted him bodily off his feet and held him, kicking and struggling helplessly, over the side of the yacht as she calmly gave him the choice of either continuing their journey to the island or being thrown overboard for a very long swim back to shore. Given those ultimata, Chris readily agreed to her demand.
As they resumed their journey, Myra carried Alan back to the lower deck and, holding him helpless on her lap, stripped off his T-shirt and then his shorts and underpants, leaving him completely naked before her. Enraged and humiliated at his treatment by this powerful, young Amazon, he thrashed about with all his strength, but was unable to so much as slow her treatment of him. Since they were by this time far enough from land that any cries for help could not be heard, she made no effort to muffle him, but in his fury he could only curse and fume helplessly as, smiling placidly, she continued to taunt and toy with him.
When she had him naked, she playfully nuzzled him while, as her right arm imprisoned his legs, her right hand fondled his thighs and privates intimately. The rage and humiliation at being so easily overpowered and sexually assaulted by this beautiful Amazon was almost too much for him to bear, and he could only mouth unintelligible protests at the treatment to which he was being subjected.
At long last, after what seemed an eternity to Alan, the faint peaks of mountainous land appeared in the distance, growing ever larger and, to Alan, more ominous as the yacht sped toward what was obviously Myra's island and the cement pier at the land's edge. After Myra's treatment of him during their journey here, Alan could not help but wonder what further torments awaited him. He was soon to find out.
Gripping him firmly by his buttocks with a single hand, Myra lifted him bodily off his feet and carried him off the yacht to the dock and then, alternately lifting him and marching him in front of her, took him to the end of the dock and into a long, sheltered path between two high peaks to the interior of the island. Realizing by this time that it was useless to try to resist or escape this unbelievably powerful and beautiful Amazon, he could only suffer these further indignities in helpless fury, but without any attempt at resistance.
As they proceeded down the shaded path Myra maintained her grip on Alan's buttocks as she half carried, half marched him toward their destination, playfully fondling his rear when his feet touched the ground and squeezing him painfully as she effortlessly swept him forward through the air. The resultant sensations through his backside has the predictable effect, an effect that did not go unnoticed by Myra and produced the appropriate observation, to Alan's abject humiliation. Yet, all he could do was growl and snarl in protest, much to Myra's amusement.
At last they emerged from the path to a large clearing and a huge manor house at the base of a small hill that rose from the floor of the clearing. As Myra marched him toward the house, he could see three women waiting for them on the front steps. They were too far away to see well, but, upon approaching the house, Alan's heart sank with the realization of what was awaiting him.
Three of the strangest women Alan had ever seen were eying him as though he were a piece of meat as Myra introduced each of them: (1) an unbelievably powerfully muscled female wrestler several inches taller than he and sporting what appeared to be a masculine crew cut; (2) a small, but chunkily muscular, black haired martial arts expert; and (3) a towering, stern faced woman who looked to be at least 7 feet tall and wearing nothing but a black officer's cap, black leather neck and wrist bands and straps supporting voluptuous breasts and a black, mean looking dildo and high heeled black pumps. Apparently each of the women planned to have their own peculiar way with him once Myra was finished with him.

When the introductions were finished, two of the women returned to the house, but the 7 foot giantess named Domina approached and waved her flail menacingly over Alan's head, warning him to beware their eventual meeting.

Myra's question to Domina caused Alan to look back at her quizzically, and when he turned away Domina had disappeared, and her place had been taken by the most gigantic woman he had ever seen. At least twice his height and built to scale, the top of his head did not even reach to her crotch, barely covered by the bikini she wore. Never before had Alan felt so tiny and insignificant before a woman, a feeling that was magnified by her insistence on describing him as a "baby"!

And, in fact, as her deep, booming voice confirmed, that's exactly the way she intended to treat him!