Through a smidgeon of time, in a place far, far away, lived a young woman with hair as bright as a Krugerrand and eyes like sparkling sapphires. Her name is unpronounceable to us English speakers, but we'll call her Goldie for the sake of this tale. Goldie was a hip chick, with a stripper's body and a rock star's attitude. She was also very unhappy.

"You know, Harold, we can get a little kinky once in a while. Maybe some whipped cream? Or maybe you could smack me on the behind. What do you say?"

Harold Humdrumm looked up from his place at her feet where he was doing her toenails. "Swat your behind, dearest? What for?"

Goldie sighed. "Pretend I've been naughty. Pretend I'm a spoiled brat. Let's just get past the girl-on-top position, Harold.

It was Harold's turn to sigh. "I don't know, honey-bun. It seems awfully...well, risqué. How about you let me go down on you. You liked that when I did it that one time."

She pointed. "You missed a toe, Harold."

"Ah! So I did." He bent to his task with more concentration.

It's always the same, thought Goldie. Tommy, Dicky, and Harry...all the same. Where's the excitement? Where's the adventure? The kinkiest thing she'd experienced was bright red nail polish on her toes. I want to be spanked! I want bondage! I want to be spoken harshly to by someone I respect!

Later, she broached the subject with her friend as they sipped rum and coke at the local watering hole. "Willy," she began, for that was the name she called her best girlfriend, "why can't I find a dominant man? Are they all taken?"

"Yep," said Willy, for she was a terse little creature.

Goldie hung her head.

"Except for the guys on Bear Island."

Now Goldie's eyes lit up with interest. "Bear Island? Tell me more!"

"They're strong."

Goldie grinned. She liked strong.

"They're rich."

Goldie beamed. She really liked rich.

"They're all Doms!"

Goldie thought she might faint from joy. The spark was missing from the men in Femville, and she knew there was something wrong about spending every date night having your boyfriend paint your toenails. She wanted a guy from a beer commercial. A man who did manly things-whatever that was.

"Okay, that tears it; I'm going. Wanna come, Willy?"

"And miss my pedicure? No way!"

"All right for you. I'll send you a postcard."

With that, Goldie gassed up her land speeder-I told you this was a faraway place-and headed for Bear Island. Willy was wonderful and wise, waving as Goldie walked away.

Adult Excerpt (if adult book)

"I'm Goldie. Thank you for your hospitality."

He shook, his work-roughened hand firm on hers. "Bob Bentley," he said. "Please sit down."

Smiling, she took a seat near the hearth.

They talked for a few minutes, mostly about the weather and its unpredictability on Bear Island. He offered tea and toast and she accepted. Finally, unable to resist, Goldie asked him a personal question. "Are you married, Bob?"

"No. No man on Bear Island is married. We move away once we find just the right woman."

"Wow. But you're so well established on your little farm. How long have you been on the island?"

He seemed a little embarrassed as he squirmed in his plush chair. "Many years. A good woman is hard to find."

Goldie could relate.

"What brings you to the island?"

"I came to find just the right man. All the good ones seem to be taken on the mainland."

His eyes roamed her face and he licked his lips. "I like you," he told her. "Wanna get it on and see if we're compatible?"

Bob Bentley was a nice guy. They had a few things in common. And he baked a mean loaf of bread. "Sure. But I'm no slut. I draw the line at touchie-feelie."

"No problem. You realize, of course, that I'm a Dominant."