Bill glanced at his Rolex as he entered the coffee shop; he was in a rush to get to the office as usual. The tables were crowded with customers, but the line was not too long this morning, about five people. He would be pushing his luck, but he dreaded facing a day of client interviews and meetings without his morning latte. He took his place at the end of the line.

            She was there again, two customers ahead of him. Recognizing her gave Bill a pang of annoyance. On Monday they had had an altercation. He had been running particularly late that morning, and had shouldered to the head of the line. The others on line didn’t make a peep, but she had turned out to be pretty feisty. First she had scolded him for his bad manners. When he had tried to give her the brush off (“Look, lady, I’m in a rush….”) instead of clamming up she had gotten angry. What had she called him? A boor? A jackass? Anyway, it had been a lot of trouble to get a freaking latte.

            As Bill reminisced, she turned and noticed him on line, making him shift his stance uncomfortably. She did not acknowledge him verbally, but her cool green eyes registered his presence. This is the way it had been for four days since that first meeting. She had been here on line as he arrived, and he was forced to bear her presence in embarrassed silence while he waited his turn.

            Bill reflected on what a shame it was. She was good-looking. No, better than that. She was hot. Totally hot. She had an hourglass figure that was to die for, gorgeous tits, and long shapely legs that were almost always displayed to heartbreaking effect by her dress or skirt and stockings. Curly blond hair cascaded around her shoulders, and her eyes…those green eyes. Bill could not help regret that he had lost the chance to hit on her. 

            Maybe he would get another pass, though. These spirited types often had a soft center. If he flashed her his watch, his car, maybe drop a nice word or two, she would roll over and show him her belly.

            As he waited on line Bill noticed a strange atmosphere in the coffee shop. It had been like this for the last few days. People seemed to be looking at him. Not staring, not even looking directly at him. Sneaking glimpses of him out of the corners of their eyes. Like they all knew something he didn’t. Like they were waiting for something. Bill shook himself to dispel such notions. It was the lack of caffeine talking.

            The blond got to the head of the line. Instead of giving the counter boy her order, she turned around.

            “Bill?” she asked. Bill had a moment to wonder why she knew his name. “What do you think when I say the word ‘kumquat?’”

            Bill grew very relaxed. His eyes glazed over, his shoulders slumped. A few snickers could be heard around the room from those who had been anticipating this transformation. Bill took no notice.

            “I await Your orders, Goddess Marquesa,” Bill intoned, his voice flat. He spoke as if through a heavy haze of sleep.

            “Very good, Bill,” said Goddess Marquesa. “It is time for your lesson in manners. I told you that we would do this every day of this week since I first hypnotized you on Monday. Since it is now Friday, today your lessons will be complete.”

            “Yes, Goddess,” Bill replied, his eyes open but unfocused.

            “First things first,” announced the Goddess, very business-like, “give Me your wallet.”

            Bill removed his wallet from his pocket and handed it to Goddess Marquesa.

            “Bill would like to buy everyone here coffee, isn’t that right, Bill?”

            “Yes, Goddess.”

            She took two-hundred dollars from Bill’s wallet and handed it to the boy behind the counter. “Here,” She said, “give everyone what they want and take a nice tip for yourself and your co-workers.”

            “Thanks!” the boy said, beaming. He had been cleaning up this way all week.

            Goddess Marquesa handed the wallet back to Bill. “Put that away,” She ordered. Bill did as She said. “All right,” She continued, “next order of business. What shall we have you do to entertain us today? Hmmm….what is your favorite song?”

            “‘Danny Boy,’ Goddess.”

            “Oh, lovely. Sing it for us now, Bill.”

            Bill launched into a rendition of “Danny Boy.” It was off key and strained, but sung with feeling. When he finished the entire coffee shop burst into laughter and applause.

            “That was very nice, Bill,” remarked Goddess Marquesa. “Now to top it off, I would like you to unbuckle your pants and let them drop around your ankles.”

            Bill did so, revealing boxers imprinted with the logo of the Chicago Bulls.

            When the laughter in the shop subsided, Goddess Marquesa said, “The past few days I have had you suit up and wiped your memory before bringing you out of trance, Bill. Since today is your last lesson, however, we will do things differently. I am going to bring you around just as you are now. When I count to three you will awaken. This time you will not forget having been in trance. You will remember everything that happened here this morning, and everything I have made you do since I first put you under on Monday. Do you understand?”

            “Yes, Goddess.”

            “Listen carefully then…One….two….THREE!”

            Bills eyes came into focus. As memory flooded back, his cheeks flushed red hot. Everyone around him was staring, pointing, laughing. Rage boiled up in him.

            “You f&*%ing $#@~!” he screamed, rushing to pull his trousers back up. “How dare you do this to me!”

            Goddess Marquesa smiled. She stood very placidly, Her demeanor little changed from the moment he had first walked in the shop. “You brought this on yourself, Bill. In time you’ll see this wasn’t a punishment, this was a gift.”

            “You’re crazy!” he screamed. “Just wait. I’ll get you! I’ll get you if it’s the last thing I do!” With that Bill stormed out, followed by gales of laughter, his latte forgotten.

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

            Several months later, Goddess Marquesa emerged from the coffee shop, a cappuccino in Her hand. Before She could walk more than a few steps, Her path was blocked. It was Bill.

            “Hello, Bill,” She offered, Her tone light, Her expression calm.

            “Uh….hello…” Bill stuttered, tension straining his face and voice.

            Goddess Marquesa did not move to make further conversation, but stood assessing Bill with polite disinterest. She sipped Her cappuccino.

            After a few awkward moments, Bill burst forth, “I…I can’t stop thinking of You….”

            “So now you have come to ‘get me?’” the Goddess asked, amused.

            “No….yes…I mean…I was so angry…I know I should hate You, but I can’t….I can’t feel anything but…but….” Bill could not force himself to say the word.

            “Yes?” asked Goddess Marquesa, stepping in close so that Bill could feel her breath on his neck as She spoke.

            “Love,” Bill gasped, “I love You. I need You desperately….”

            Goddess Marquesa gave a polite laugh, as if someone had just attempted a joke. “Yes, that usually happens to men who get a taste of my power.”

            “Please, I’ve never felt anything like this…I don’t know what to do….”

            “You’ve been fighting these feelings for months, haven’t you, Bill?”

            “Yes, Goddess,” he breathed.

            “And you can’t resist them, they’ve overwhelmed you…’

            “Yes.”

            “So now you would do anything. If I said that to be with Me you would have to be My slave that wouldn’t deter you, would it?”

            “No…,” his pupils were dilating, his gaze fixated upon Her emerald eyes.

            “In fact, the idea excites you, doesn’t it?”

            “Yes…God help me, it does…”

            “And you would do anything to become My plaything. Buy Me jewels, cars…you could afford a great deal and you would go considerably beyond what you could afford, yes?”

            “Yes, Goddess…anything….” Bill’s breathing was coming in short gasps, his mounting excitement had caused his eyes to droop half closed.

            “Well forget it, Bill,” Goddess Marquesa declaimed, Her tone suddenly icy. “I don’t accept anyone who has been so rude to Me as a slave.”

            “What?” gasped Bill, his eyes and mouth gaping.

            “You thought that what I did to you in the shop was punishment,” the Goddess explained, “but it was a gift. I gave you those memories so that you can masturbate yourself to sleep at night while you yearn for Me. The punishment, dear boy, is what you are feeling right now.”

            Bill fell to his knees, tears gushing from his eyes. His voice burst forth in great wrenching sobs, like that of a wounded animal.  “No! No, please!” he cried.  “Don’t do this to me! Please, Goddess! Don’t go! Come back….”