I noticed her as soon as she walked in the pub, and I wasn’t alone. Curly blond locks falling around graceful shoulders. An hourglass figure so sexy it seems unreal. Legs… her legs… even now words fail me. She wore a short black dress that accentuated every thrilling curve of her body. Her eyes are a green hue so uncanny they must be enchanted. One look at her made me dizzy from how hot I became, and how fast.

            I thought I saw her catch my stare, but I lowered my eyes self-consciously before I could register whether she had really noticed me. When I looked up she was taking a seat at the bar. She held the bartender’s attention for a full two minutes, seemingly giving him detailed instructions. When she was finally finished he nodded and set a glass of water in front of her.

            I did my usual shy wallflower act, standing at a distance, ogling her while trying to appear detached. I could see that many of the men in the pub had noticed her and were checking her out. A lot of hands adjusted a lot of belts. More than one of the women standing about shot daggers at her with their eyes while trying to pretend not to notice her.

            In less than five minutes one bold lunkhead wearing an expensive watch and a black silk shirt made his move. I was too far away to hear what lame line he pulled on her, but it clearly was not selling. She gave him a bored glance and said three or four words. I don’t know what they were, but they literally knocked the man off his stool. He staggered away, looking pale and disoriented. As he passed me on the way to the men’s room I heard him mumble, “….Who does she think she is?”

            I sipped my drink, tried to calm down, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, and looking at her got me progressively more hot under the collar. I had finally resolved to leave the pub, maybe for home and a cold shower, when something changed. She didn’t look up at me or alter her posture in any way, but something made me feel that I should approach her. I walked up to the bar and took the seat that had been vacated by the retreat of the black silk shirt.

            “What took you so long, pet?” she asked as I turned to face her.

            “I….what is…” I stuttered, too surprised to speak coherently.

            “My name is Goddess Marquesa. you can call Me Goddess. Mistress is also acceptable.”

            “Um….I…that is, my name…,” I flailed, struggling to get a grip on the situation.

            She held her hand up in a gesture commanding silence, and said, “I’ll call you ‘pet’ for now and figure out what to call You later.”

            As she finished this statement, the bartender walked forward with a bucket of champagne on ice and two tall glass flutes. These he set down on the bar, one in front of Goddess Marquesa, one in front of me. “What is this?” I asked.

            “She told me to bring this over as soon as you sat down,” the bartender explained, pouring champagne first in her flute, then in mine. “Enjoy.”

            Turning to her, looking and feeling clueless, I asked, “How did you know I would sit down here?”

            “I saw how attracted you were to Me when I first walked in, and I willed you over here,” she said.

            “Willed me?”

            “Yes,” she replied. “It is a trick those in My profession acquire. My will is stronger than your will…I focused my will on you and you obeyed spontaneously.”

            I don’t know why, but as she finished this sentence my cock became rock hard. “Why champagne?” I asked, trying to sound less disoriented than I felt.

            “Today is July 1^st. It’s My birthday,” she said, “so I decided to celebrate by getting Myself a present.” With this she set aside the glass of water she had been holding and held up the champagne flute expectantly. “To Me,” she toasted.

            I picked up my flute and clinked it against hers. “To you,” I replied, “Happy Birthday!” We both sipped our champagne. The bubbles tickled my tongue and made my stiff cock twitch against the seam of my pants.

            “What present did you get for yourself?” I asked.

            “You,” she said.

            “Huh?” I grunted, abashed at having been reduced to speaking in monosyllables, but helpless to do otherwise.

            “You are the present,” she explained. “I came here looking for a new pet, and you’re cute, so I chose you. You’re welcome.”

            “Pet?” I blurted, continuing my streak of eloquence.

            “Pet,” she declared. “I am an Erotic Hypnotist, you see. I plan to turn you into My love slave and pliant sex toy.”

            “When did you plan to do this?” I asked, my heart pounding, my palms clammy, but my cock still rock hard.

            “Well…..” she said, her voice rising as if explaining to a child as she reached into her purse, “you have a choice. Option one is you take this and go home tonight.” Removing a small white name card, she placed it face down on the bar.

            “What happens if I choose option one?”

            “You will put that card in your wallet and try to forget about it. Tonight you will masturbate while thinking about Me in order to get to sleep. Tomorrow night the same. You will try to stop fantasizing about Me, but that won’t work. By Tuesday you will break down and call Me. That night you’ll be on your knees, begging Me to put you under.” On finishing this short speech, she took a nonchalant sip of champagne.

            “And choice two?” I asked.

            “W/we skip all the preliminaries, you come home with Me now and surrender to My hypnotic control,” she declared, her face a mask of calm indifference. “Both choices lead to the same place, just along slightly different timelines. Either way you’ll be Mine.”

            “What about choice three?” I said, trying to sound defiant.

            “The one where you walk away without My card?” she asked, smiling broadly.

            “Yes,” I grumbled, back to monosyllables.

            “Go ahead,” she purred. “Try to do it.” A wicked smirk made her gorgeous face even more sexy.

            I looked at the card and then at her, trying to keep my heart from racing. Somehow my already steely cock had gotten even more stiff. Her perfume was overwhelming me. The curve of her breasts made me woozy. I could not take my eyes off of her mouth, except when I looked in her eyes, which felt like they might swallow me whole.

            “How can you be sure I won’t?” I whined, clinging to any scrap of hope.

            “Because,” she declared, “when I say that I will bring you to heights of sexual ecstasy you have never DREAMED of, you can feel deep in your balls that I’m not lying.”

           My mouth dropped open. A trickle of drool stained my shirt. I don’t know how long I sat transfixed like that. Finally she sighed, placed some cash on the bar to settle the tab, rose from her stool, and took me by the hand. “Come along, pet,” she said, “no time like the present.” I followed her meekly out of the pub and to her car.

            I woke up next morning on the floor at the foot of her bed. I could not remember what had happened after we left the bar. My anus felt a bit sore and stretched, and my mouth was suffused with a sweet taste that I knew somehow was that of her pussy. My whole body was warmly aglow, cradled in the delicious aftermath of what I knew had been the greatest sexual experience of my life.

            Since that night i have been Her pet, and life could not possibly be better. Though it was Her birthday, it was She who gave me the greatest gift possible. The gift of being Her love slave and sex puppet.

The End