Hypatia stood in awkward silence, eyeing the woman at her door suspiciously. She was momentarily confused.
“Hello, I’m…” the visitor began coolly, without extending a hand in greeting.
“I know who you are,” interrupted Hypatia in clipped tones, “what are you doing here?”
“I’ll only need a few minutes of your time,” replied the visitor, breezing past Hypatia into the small studio space beyond the open door.
“Wha…what…” Hypatia stammered, taken off guard by the intruder’s boldness. “You can’t….”
The visitor strode confidently into the center of the studio and turned to face her host. Hypatia stood for a few seconds holding the still-open door, but seeing that the other woman was in no rush to leave she relented.
Once the door was closed, the visitor remarked, “Mistress Hypatia…an interesting handle. Hypatia was a great philosopher in the ancient world, is that why you chose her name for your own?”
“Yeah…well…someone mentioned her once in a forum and it seemed like a cool name for a hypno-domme. How did you choose your name?”
“Goddess Marquesa? After the Marquis de Sade, of course.”
“Oh…” Hypatia’s face did not flash recognition. “What do you want?”
“I think you can guess that,” responded Goddess Marquesa. “You’ve been plagiarizing my work, naughty girl.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” bridled Hypatia, but an insincere smirk telegraphed the truth of the accusation.
“I think you do.” Goddess Marquesa looked around the small studio. The décor was Spartan. A couch stood against one wall, a digital camera was set up on a tripod across from it. “So this is where you make the videos that you have copied from me? Let’s make one now, shall we?” The Goddess strode over to the camera, adjusted it so that Hypatia was in the frame, and started recording.
“Leave that alone!” shouted Hypatia. “You have no right to come in here and mess with my property.”
“Your property for the moment,” retorted Goddess Marquesa enigmatically. “Speaking of erstwhile property, Steve told me everything. He’s been buying my videos and sending them to you so that you can ‘research’ them.”
The mention of Steve elicited an angry grunt. “That’s a lie! Steve would never accuse me…he belongs to me.”
Goddess Marquesa laughed. “Wrong, my dear. Steve naturally watched the videos you ordered him to purchase, and their effect on him was predictable. He will do anything I ask now. How do you think I found this place? Steve told me where to find you, and when I could find you here alone.”
Hypatia’s throat tightened, edging her voice with nervous strain. “I want you to leave now.”
“Yes, you want me to leave now,” Goddess Marquesa purred, her voice a silken caress. “But in a few minutes you won’t feel that way. Quite the contrary.”
Goddess Marquesa had entered wearing a long black overcoat. While she spoke, she stripped it from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, leaving her clothed only in a short black negligee, sheer black stockings, and cherry red stiletto heels. On her left thigh, just above her knee, she wore a crystal-studded garter that sparkled in the early afternoon light. “You recognize this outfit, don’t you?”
“What?” mumbled Hypatia, too confused to answer coherently.
“I wore it in the video ‘Goddess Marquesa Controls You.’ I know you’ve seen it because you imitated some of it in your own work…or tried to.” As she spoke Goddess Marquesa strode slowly toward Hypatia, pointing her toe with each deliberate step, so as to give Hypatia a full view of her leg’s exquisite shape. “Look at my legs,” the Goddess intoned, “my legs entrance you, no? In fact, every time I say the word ‘legs,’ you get more aroused.”
“No…” Hypatia protested, but it came out weakly, a hoarse whisper. “No…I don’t…I don’t want…”
“Oh, but you do, my dear. You can’t take your eyes off my legs.” It was true. Hypatia tried to look away, but could not. “And see this…” Goddess Marquesa had approached within arms length of Hypatia. She reached up and gently caressed the corner of Hypatia’s mouth, then held her hand up for Hypatia to see. The fingertips were wet. “You’re drooling, pet. The sight of my legs makes your mouth water.”
Hypatia began to tremble. “What’s happening to me?”
Hypatia obeyed. She gasped as the depths of the Goddess’s emerald eyes seemed to swallow her.
“You did this to yourself, puppet. You thought you could watch my videos to steal from me, but you were giving yourself to me the whole time.”
“No…” Hypatia began quaking, as if fevered. Her lower lip trembled, tears rolled down her cheeks. She tried to look away, but could not tear herself from the Goddess’s gaze. “….No, please….I’m so young and so pretty…” her breath came in gasps, her protests became more labored, “…I’ve got my whole career ahead of me…you can’t make me feel…”
“I can. I have. Touch your nipples, pet.”
Hypatia’s hands rose as if lifted by wires. She took her nipples between her fingers. The slight touch made her gasp. Her areolae were rock hard and exquisitely sensitive. She could not resist fondling herself gently. “Ooooh…” she moaned, as her eyelids closed and she gave herself over to pleasure.
“That’s it, puppet,” whispered Goddess Marquesa, “That feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Yes…” Hypatia replied from a place far away.
Hypatia stood, eyes closed, fondling herself for a few moments before hearing, “Open your eyes puppet.”
Hypatia looked up to see Goddess Marquesa arrayed on the couch, her long gorgeous legs stretched out before her. “Train the camera on me.”
“Yes, Goddess Marquesa.” Hypatia did as she was told.
“Now come worship your Goddess.”
Without thinking, Hypatia fell to her hands and knees and crawled over to the couch, where she became lost in adoration of Goddess Marquesa’s legs. Her hands strayed greedily up and down the lengths of the Goddess’s calves and thighs, as her mouth pressed kiss after hungry kiss against Goddess Marquesa’s black silk stockings, punctuated by little grunts and moans of desire and gratitude. “Oh….yes…..oh, Goddess…yes….yessss….”
This might have gone on for hours, had the Goddess not finally brought it to a halt, ordering, “Place your face between my thighs.” Hypatia obeyed, inhaling eagerly as supple flesh immobilized her.
“Now touch yourself,” Goddess Marquesa commanded.
Hypatia reached down with her free hand and stroked herself into a frenzy of pleasure. In a few moments she erupted, every muscle of her frame seeming to go taught with ecstasy. When the bucking and shuddering subsided, the Goddess relaxed her thighs to release her captive. Hypatia collapsed, exhausted, falling asleep with her head cradled in Goddess Marquesa’s lap.
“Ah,” sighed the Goddess, glancing at the video camera as she stroked her new puppet’s hair, “Sleep sweetly, Hypatia. On your own you could never hope to be anything but a pale imitation, but as my slave you will be a star…”