The phone rang, it was the line on which those seeking hypnosis called. Goddess Marquesa answered.

            “I can see you,” the voice on the other end of the line said.

            “Of course you can, puppet,” answered the Goddess, her tone playful. “I am always in your mind’s eye, aren’t I?”

            “No. You don’t understand. I can see you right now. You are sitting in a wheelchair by your window. You are wearing a light yellow print dress.”

            Goddess Marquesa looked out her window. It was indeed possible that she could be observed from any of the houses or apartments in view. Her caller might guess that she was wheelchair bound from some postings she had made online, but how would he know what she was wearing? She seemed to have a stalker.

            “Lucky you,” she said nonchalantly.

            “Aren’t you afraid?” asked the stalker.

            “Afraid? Whatever for?”

            “You can’t get away. You’re helpless.”

            “Hmmm….I’ve got a bit of trouble getting around, it’s true. But I’m hardly helpless, puppet.”

            “I’m very close,” said the stalker, “I could be there before anyone could help you.”

            “I tell you what,” answered the Goddess. “I’ll give you this one chance to surrender.”

            “What?” said the voice on the other end, surprised.

            “You heard me. If you beg to be my obedient slave right now I’ll be gentle with you. Well, relatively speaking. Otherwise things will go badly for you.”

            “You’re bluffing.”

            “I never bluff.”

            “I don’t believe in hypnosis.”

            “Maybe not. It believes in you, puppet.”

            “You’re powerless.”

            Goddess Marquesa laughed. “Obviously not, fool. You’ve already felt my power.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “You want me, don’t you?” asked the Goddess in her most alluring voice.

            “Yes…” came the reply, “…but….”

            “There is no ‘but,’ pet,” continued Goddess Marquesa in a tone of authority, “that is how it begins. Your desire for me is a doorway into your mind. Once I walk through that door, there little that I can’t discover.”

            “That’s not…” stammered the stalker.

            Goddess Marquesa ignored this interruption. “Since you say you can see me, what am I doing now?” she asked.

            “You have cupped your right breast in your hand,” replied the stalker, his voice suddenly husky, “You are massaging it slowly.”

            “That’s right, puppet,” cooed the Goddess, smiling broadly toward the window, “you like watching me do this don’t you?”

            “Yes…” the voice on the other end replied dreamily.

            “Say it. Tell me how watching me makes you feel.”

            “Watching you excites me…your breasts are so….so….magnificent…”

            “That’s good, puppet,” said the Goddess, shifting her position, “Now what am I doing?”

            “You’ve stretched out your uninjured leg…you are running your fingers along the seam of your stocking…”

            “That’s right,” purred Goddess Marquesa. “You’d like to put your lips where my fingers are traveling, wouldn’t you?”

            “Yes.” The answer sounded as much like a moan as a word.

            “Say it.”

            “I wish I could run my lips along your leg…I wish I could inhale the fragrance clinging to your stockings….”

            “Your cock is very hard now,” noted the Goddess matter-of-factly. “Take it out of your pants and begin stroking it.”

            “Yes, Goddess,” came the obedient reply.

            “As you stroke, focus on my voice. You feel your eyelids getting heavy…you are going to sleep for me now….”

 

*********************************************************

 

            The ping that signaled an incoming email awoke him. He was still seated in the chair by the window, binoculars in his hand. Otherwise the scene was quite different than he remembered. His pants were down around his ankles. At some point he must have stood, because a large splatter pattern of semen coated the window too high up for him to have done it from where he was seated. The clock on the side table next to the window showed that an hour had gone by while he was out.

            He raised the binoculars to his eyes. Goddess Marquesa’s window was dark. Either she was not at home, or she was hiding. “You can’t hide forever,” he murmured, “I know where you live. Next time I won’t fall for your tricks.”

            He got up, pulled up his pants, and walked over to the computer. Opening the incoming email, he read:

 

            From: Goddess Marquesa

            To: John____@____.com

           

  Thanks for sharing your name, John! And your address. Date of birth. Social Security number.  Other little tidbits about your lifestyle. I took the picture with the zoom lens on my camera- I hope you like it! There should be a surprise arriving shortly.

 

                                You should have taken my offer,

                                 Goddess Marquesa

 

            Finishing the text, he noticed that the email had an attachment and clicked on it. A photograph opened up on his screen. It was of his window, taken from the direction of Goddess Marquesa’s apartment. He could be clearly seen in the picture, back to the window, pants down, naked ass pressed against the glass.

            At that moment a loud knocking came from the front door of his apartment. “John ____, open up!” ordered a commanding voice. “This is the police! We’ve had several complaints of indecent exposure. We know you are in there…”

            Had he told her about the contraband files he kept on his computer? If so, the police would no doubt search the place. He frantically began opening folders, scrambling to delete anything incriminating. That is when the door burst open and the police came storming in…