Goddess Marquesa examined the enormous oaken door before her. It was stained a deep, lustrous auburn and carved with interlocking geometric designs. There was no doorbell, only a huge knocker in the shape of Heracles receiving the girdle of Hippolyta, with Heracles\u2019s club serving as the mallet. This portal, as far as Goddess Marquesa could see, fit perfectly with the facade and vast grounds of the mansion to which it gave entry. It was as eccentric as the invitation that brought her here to Las Vegas.<\/p>\n
The envelope had arrived the day before. It contained a small folded card of fine bone-white stationary stock, stamped on the outside with the monogram \u201cJFW3\u201d in elaborate cursive letters. Inside was a brief note scrawled in a careless hand: \u201cCome to this address tomorrow at 8 PM. The rewards may be great.\u201d At the bottom of the card had been printed \u201cJFW3\u201d again, followed by the street and number of the hulking manor before which Goddess Marquesa now stood. There was a phone number as well. Along with the card the envelope had contained a plane ticket and a voucher for a private limo that had met her at the airport.<\/p>\n
The crisp white stationary, the limo, the massive gardens and walls, the finely polished door- they were all rather transparent mechanisms of intimidation. As a practiced manipulatrix Goddess Marquesa could read all the signs. Smiling to herself, she reached up and worked the knocker.<\/p>\n
A butler wearing traditional livery answered the door. \u201cGoddess Marquesa?\u201d he asked in a polite monotone.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d she replied.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are expected. Please come in.\u201d<\/p>\n
The doorway entered into a surprisingly small foyer lined with mahogany and black marble. A mirror and a half-scale replica of the Venus de Milo were its only decor. After taking the Goddess\u2019s jacket, the butler led her wordlessly down a long corridor, passing many doors and dimly lit rooms. Finally they passed through an oak door into a brightly lit study. Book-lined shelves covered the walls, richly upholstered leather couches and reading lamps were situated strategically about the room. In one corner the shelves were interrupted by a small buffet cabinet on which was arrayed a selection of liquors and cut-crystal glasses. A door to the right opened onto a small room in which a double bed was plainly visible.<\/p>\n
\u201cMay I offer you something to drink?\u201d asked the butler in his same detached tone.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease make yourself at home, then. The Master will be in directly.\u201d With a short bow, he withdrew, closing the door behind him.<\/p>\n
Left alone in the room, Goddess Marquesa began to peruse its contents. The books on the shelves reflected a person of education and reasonably good, if somewhat conventional tastes. A few selections deviated intriguingly from the norm, however. Leather-bound editions of Ana\u00efs Nin and Justine<\/em> caught the Goddess\u2019s eye. An image hung over the buffet cabinet likewise spoke of her host\u2019s more exotic inclinations: a brightly painted mandala of Hevajra coupling with his consort Nair\u0101tmy\u0101.<\/p>\n \u201cI see you appreciate tantric art.\u201d<\/p>\n The Goddess had not heard the man enter, but she turned to meet his gaze serenely despite being taken unawares. He was tall and good-looking, in his late thirties or early forties, with a full head of brown hair touched at the sides with gray and a pencil-thin mustache. He was dressed in a long, red silk smoking jacket and slippers. In his hand was a snifter filled with amber liquid.<\/p>\n \u201cPlease forgive my stealthy entrance,\u201d the man said, extending his hand, \u201cMy name is John Fitzroy Wainright III.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThere is nothing to forgive, Mr. Wainright,\u201d replied Goddess Marquesa. As she took the offered hand she noticed a heavy gold ring engraved with the same JFW3 monogram that had embossed her invitation. \u201cA man of your means can come and go as he pleases.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou know who I am?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDid you think I would come to a strange house in Nevada in the middle of the night without making some inquiries?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy, no\u2026yes\u2026I mean\u2026most call the number on the invitation\u2026\u201d Wainright grimaced, embarrassed by his unintended candor. \u201cThat is to say\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo need to explain,\u201d Marquesa said with a breezy laugh, \u201cI was under no illusion that I was the first recipient of such an invitation.\u201d Turning from her host and walking around his tastefully appointed library, she continued, \u201cJohn Fitzroy Wainright III. Harvard B.A., Wharton MBA. You inherited a large fortune from your father and grandfather, who made their money in aluminum. You served briefly as CEO of the family business after your father\u2019s retirement in 2001, but you grew bored and sold out to a large international conglomerate. Now you are what would traditionally be called a playboy.\u201d Finishing her dissertation, the Goddess turned to face her host again; her face cheerful. \u201cGoogle does wonders for those enterprising enough to tap a few keys.\u201d<\/p>\n Wainright raised his glass. \u201cTouch\u00e9!\u201d he exclaimed with an appreciative smile. Draining his brandy, he set the snifter on an end table. \u201cWe live in the information age, as you say. Still, I\u2019m impressed with your acumen and initiative.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you for your compliments,\u201d remarked Marquesa drily, \u201cbut I would prefer that you draw back the veil on your cryptic invitation.\u201d<\/p>\n Waintright laughed. \u201cYes- cut to the chase. Well, as my invitation suggests, I am interested in engaging your services tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou may have mistaken my calling. I am not a \u2018lady of the evening.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, of course not,\u201d coughed Wainright apologetically. \u201cThat is not what I\u2019m proposing\u2026not exactly. You see, Ms. Marquesa\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI would prefer \u2018Goddess Marquesa.\u2019 \u2018Mistress\u2019 is also acceptable.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMistress Marquesa, then,\u201d conceded Wainright with an abashed grin. \u201cYou see, your research was basically right about me. I am a playboy, though I\u2019ve been one for much longer than you suggested. I\u2019ve indulged in the lifestyle of the idle rich since I first entered my teens, with predictable results. I\u2019ve grown jaded, malaised. You used the word \u2018bored,\u2019 but my pathology goes beyond that. In recent years a deep, existential ennui has settled over me, and I find myself longing for some revitalizing fulfillment. I have had all sorts of romantic and sexual adventures, but I finally reached a point where nothing could excite or intrigue me any more.\u201d<\/p>\n Here Wainright paused to gauge Goddess Marquesa\u2019s reaction to his confession. She sensed that he was expecting some expression of surprise or disapproval, but she refused to play along, merely crossing her arms and favoring him with a tolerant smile. \u201cContinue,\u201d she suggested.<\/p>\n A bit flustered, Wainright spoke on. \u201cI tried spiritual disciplines for a while. A Zen monastery in Kyoto. A Tibetan ashram in Nepal. But helpful as some of what I learned in those places was on a personal level, it was no real cure. I am a sensualist to the core. Abstinence was not going to work for me. That was when I conceived the idea for the game. A kind of contest, really. Eroticism no longer holds any appeal for me without an element of danger, competition. I yearn to be challenged. That is why I have begun offering a few select women a wager.\u201d<\/p>\n At these words Marquesa couldn\u2019t help registering some curiosity. Her eyebrow raised, she asked, \u201cWhat sort of wager?\u201d<\/p>\n Wainright pulled a small paging device from the pocket of his smoking jacket and pressed a button. Picking up his empty snifter, he went over to the liquor on the side buffet and poured himself another brandy. \u201cYou are sure I can\u2019t offer you anything?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d replied Marquesa. \u201cIf there is to be a competition I will keep training rules.\u201d<\/p>\n Wainright laughed. \u201cWell said.\u201d<\/p>\n The butler entered the room, holding two documents and a notary seal. Wainright took one of the papers and passed it to Goddess Marquesa. \u201cYou can read the terms of the wager here,\u201d he explained. \u201cYou will have from the moment we execute this agreement until dawn the next day. If in that time you can cause me to orgasm I will pay you one million dollars. If not I will ask you to accept some nice farewell gifts and we will part friends.\u201d<\/p>\n Goddess Marquesa scanned the page, reading the text with an experienced eye. \u201cCan this be legal?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n \u201cIncredible, I know\u2026but that is the reason for building this house in Las Vegas. My attorneys assure me that in Nevada this type of wager is possible, given the proper licenses and permits, which I have of course procured. I promise you that this document is both legal and binding.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd even if I won this wager, what proof would there be to allow me to collect my winnings?\u201d<\/p>\n Wainright looked at her with mounting respect. \u201cGood question. As a gentleman I of course will honor any debt that should arise, but my word is vouchsafed by an independent and very discreet security service that records what transpires in the house over the course of our contest.\u201d Wainright pointed to a subtly concealed camera mounted over the Tibetan mandala. \u201cIf, by some odd chance, you should wish to contest the outcome of our competition, you could subpoena their record of the event. The details of their services and their guarantees of our privacy are outlined in the wager contract.\u201d<\/p>\n Goddess Marquesa handed the document back to the butler. \u201cThis is fascinating,\u201d she said. \u201cI have encountered every manner of sexual fetish, but I must hand it to you, Mr. Wainright, you demonstrate a level of imagination and ingenuity in the pursuit of your cravings that I have never seen.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you,\u201d he said, without a trace of irony.<\/p>\n \u201cThat being said,\u201d continued Marquesa, \u201cI don\u2019t feel right in accepting this wager. It would not be fair for me to take so much of your family\u2019s hard-earned cash.\u201d<\/p>\n Wainright laughed again. \u201cYour confidence is very bracing, Mistress Marquesa! I must protest, however, that this contest is not so one-sided as you seem to think. I will actively resist any attempts to arouse or seduce me, and I am quite good at it. My tantric training has given me a great deal of control, which has been honed through long experience. I have executed this wager more than thirty times, and have never lost.\u201d<\/p>\n Goddess Marquesa smiled enigmatically. \u201cThat is all very nice for you, Johnnie. But you don\u2019t stand a chance of holding out against me.\u201d<\/p>\n Wainright\u2019s eyes widened. \u201cDid I say confidence? Hubris more like. You are very alluring, Mistress. But, as reluctant as I am to say it, I have won this game facing women far younger and more beautiful than you.\u201d<\/p>\n Goddess Marquesa threw her head back and laughed loudly. \u201cWhatever models or actresses you have had here to your playpen don\u2019t have a fraction of my power. They are like everything else in Las Vegas or Hollywood- shiny and appealing on the surface, but hollow at the core.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll tell Beyonce and Scarlett you said so.\u201d<\/p>\n Goddess Marquesa showed no amusement. \u201cI\u2019m trying to do the right thing, Mr. Wainright,\u201d she said. \u201cYou are a little boy who wants to play with fire. Stop now before it is too late.\u201d<\/p>\n Wainright laughed derisively. \u201cAt first it was charming, but your act has now become tiresome. If you insist on declining my offer I will bid you good night.\u201d With this he set down his brandy and turned toward the door.<\/p>\n \u201cWait,\u201d ordered the Goddess, compelling her host to turn and fixing him with a hard look from her emerald eyes. \u201cSince you refuse to see reason, I will accept your wager,\u201d she declared icily. \u201cThe stakes need to be higher, however. You say you feel jaded, you need risk. Why not put some real loss on the line? Make the wager ten million dollars and I will play your game.\u201d<\/p>\n Wainright paused, his face showing both surprise and interest. \u201cYou are a novel experience, I will grant you that,\u201d he replied. Lowering his head in thought, he finally said, \u201cI am a wealthy man, it\u2019s true, but ten million dollars would put a dent in my inheritance. If we are to raise the stakes so high, you must assume some risk as well. What are you willing to gamble?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cName your price,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n Again Wainright registered surprise. Thinking for a moment, he responded, \u201cIf you lose the wager you agree to join my household staff as a maid of all work for one year, without salary. Are you game?\u201d<\/p>\n Goddess Marquesa nodded without hesitation. \u201cAgreed. Draw up the wager.\u201d<\/p>\n Wainright clapped his hands together, grinning broadly. \u201cThis is going to be fun! You will look very fetching in a black maid\u2019s uniform.\u201d<\/p>\n Goddess Marquesa did not favor this with a reply, merely rolling her eyes and turning her back on Wainright as he and the butler made handwritten amendments to the wager contract. When the document was in order, she turned and took the pen offered by Wainright\u2019s butler.<\/p>\n \u201cWe will each sign and date two copies of the contract, so that each of us may retain one. The surveillance video,\u201d said Waingright, looking up at the camera over the mandala, \u201cwill serve as a further record of our agreement.\u201d<\/p>\n The contestants signed and dated both copies of the contract, which were then signed and sealed by the butler as witness and notary. Once these formalities were done, the butler withdrew, leaving Goddess Marquesa and Wainright alone in the study. Wainright tapped the pocket of his smoking jacket in which rested his copy of the wager. \u201cBefore I sold the company I had thousands of employees, many of whom I hired myself,\u201d he said, \u201cbut this is the by far the employment agreement I shall cherish most. I can\u2019t wait until dawn so that I can see what you will look like in a black ruffled skirt with a lace apron and tiara.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow original,\u201d intoned Marquesa sarcastically. \u201cOne would think your wealth and education would purchase a bit more imagination. So many men have fantasized about me that way that I find it rather clich\u00e9.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBe that as it may,\u201d quipped Wainright, \u201cyou have until dawn to overcome me, or my fantasy will have you cleaning up my cat\u2019s litter box\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Before Wainright finished his jibe, the Goddess deftly closed the distance between them, invading his space with practiced speed. He was caught off guard as she pressed her body against his, sliding her silky thigh into the depression formed by his crotch and thrusting her magnificent breasts against his ribcage so that their bountiful flesh began to spill over the top of her low-cut dress. Before he was aware of what was happening he was looking down into her deep green eyes, his lips inches from hers. His gaze traveled involuntarily over the contours of her face- her full mouth, her teeth, the inviting slope of her jaw- flitting back repeatedly to drink deeply from the emerald pools of her eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2026\u201d he began to protest.<\/p>\n \u201cSssshhh, darling\u2026\u201d she cooed, her voice so low that it was only audible in the narrow space between them, \u201cRelax. Breathe. Everything\u2019s all right. All right\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n He felt each word against his face. The aroma of her breath combined with her perfume filled his head. As he inhaled, she took his hands and placed them around her waist, drawing them more tightly together.<\/p>\n \u201cThere is an aura of power around me,\u201d she whispered, her voice seeming to originate from inside his head, \u201cthat is not immediately visible to the naked eye, but you can feel it now.\u201d<\/p>\n He could. Her hand reached up to stroke his face, slender fingers tracing a gentle line down his cheek and chin. He felt a dizzy sensation, a blurring almost like the image produced by a film that has begun to melt in the projector. Suddenly he was kissing her\u2026or she him. Her tongue probed his mouth, which opened yieldingly. The taste of her was exquisite. It seemed to seep into his throat and permeate his body like some kind of enchanted elixir, warming and thrilling all at once.<\/p>\n Her free hand had somehow slid between her thigh and his groin, expertly bypassing his silk pajamas and boxers to take hold of his cock. As her fingers closed around his shaft he could feel its heft and distension, the veins and arteries so swollen and pulsating that they seemed bent to etch their pattern into the Goddess\u2019s palm. He could not remember beginning to want her, but he yearned for her now with a longing he had not felt since high school. Every pore of his skin seemed to cry out for her, every corner of his mind craved her taste, her touch, her essence.<\/p>\n She pulled back from the kiss so that he could see her eyes alight with triumph. Both of them knew that he was at her mercy. Somehow she had effortlessly slipped past all of his defenses. A few slight pumps of her hand and he would explode. More than physical control, she had seized hold of his awareness and emotions. He had a dim sense that he should resist the inevitable, but could not summon the will to remember why. He opened his lips to form a \u201cYes\u201d of surrender when she cut him off.<\/p>\n \u201cTen\u2026million\u2026.dollars\u2026,\u201d she whispered gleefully.<\/p>\n The words triggered a cascade of awareness. The stakes were too high. A million in cash was easily dispensed with, but ten million\u2026Assets would have to be liquidated, finances reassessed. Wainright stiffened, withdrawing from the Goddess\u2019s embrace.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not feeling well\u2026\u201d he coughed, \u201cwe will have to do this another time.\u201d<\/p>\n Goddess Marquesa laughed. Something strange had happened to the acoustics in the room. Again, though Wainright could see Goddess Marquesa\u2019s mouth move (her mouth\u2026so enticing\u2026so delicious), her voice seemed to come from elsewhere- a point behind him or inside him. \u201cThere is no escape, Johnnie,\u201d she declared.<\/p>\n The use of the diminutive made Wainright bridle. \u201cI don\u2019t have to stay here,\u201d he mewled, turning heel and heading to the door of the study. Something was wrong there as well, however. Try as he might, he could not make the door work. The air in the room grew close, he had trouble breathing. Turning to face Marquesa, he cried, \u201cWhat have you done?\u201d<\/p>\n Goddess Marquesa laughed again, making Wainright\u2019s cock throb and weep drops of pre-cum. She did not deign to answer his question, but merely pointed (that hand- so elegantly formed, so gently persuasive-oh to kiss it, to feel it against his face again, his cock\u2026) at the ground. Without knowing why, Wainright obeyed. From down on his knees he stared open-mouthed as Goddess Marquesa circled him, her gorgeous limbs moving gracefully as she surveyed her prey.<\/p>\n \u201cPeople have the wrong understanding of sex,\u201d she explained, moving deliberately so that Wainright\u2019s eyes could travel slowly over her exquisite form. \u201cThey imagine it is like hunger; a need that waxes and wanes as it is sated. But sex is as much spiritual as it is material,\u201d she continued, her tone calm and pedantic, as if she were teaching a class of young college students. \u201cErotic desire is the energy that animates us, it flows into and through us from the cosmos the way light spills through a projector, bringing images to life. If you can control the flow of that energy through a man, you control him. That is my power,\u201d she said, turning to look directly into Wainright\u2019s eyes. \u201cI am a prism that concentrates and focuses sexual energy. Once a man falls under my spell his life-force becomes oriented toward me. He feels most vital and fulfilled when worshipping me or being manipulated by me. I become the star of the movie emanating from his soul.\u201d<\/p>\n As Goddess Marquesa spoke, Wainright felt his control slipping away. His back arched, his hands stretched stiff at his sides as if tied. His cock and nipples were sorely erect, every inch of his body tingled in mixed fear, delight, and anticipation. Something was snapping inside him, he felt on the verge of a change that could never be reversed. Still, some slight remnant of his former self clung on, hoping for escape. \u201cPlease\u2026,\u201d he whimpered, his voice barely audible, \u201chave mercy\u2026.Please don\u2019t do this\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Goddess Marquesa ignored his begging. Raising her hand imperiously, she placed her forefinger against her thumb. \u201cCome for me,\u201d she commanded, and snapped her fingers.<\/p>\n Wainright had never felt anything like it. He bucked and spasmed, his eyes rolled back into his head as his entire body exploded in ecstasy. Every duct in his testicles seemed to open at once, semen erupted from his cock like water from a firehose. In his minds eye he could see what Goddess Marquesa had described- he was a conduit, a conductor of sexual energy. It did not grow within him, it flowed through him. Goddess Marquesa had opened up all of his sluice gates, and the energy was rushing through in a torrent- all toward her, all for Her\u2026.<\/p>\n The fluid seemed to flow for minutes\u2026how long he could not tell. Finally he passed out in mid-stream, his last feeling one of overwhelming love\u2026<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n *****************************************************************<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Wallace Carleton Simmons, Jr. examined the enormous oaken door with its distinctive d\u00e9cor. Particularly remarkable was the large knocker, carved in the shape of the Goddess Artemis turning Actaeon into a stag.\u00a0 The scene was caught in mid-transformation, with the bottom half of Actaeon already become the hind parts of a deer, but the terror yet visible in his still-human face. Simmons raised Actaeon\u2019s hind leg and brought it down against the sounding-plate to announce his arrival.<\/p>\n A butler answered the door, and led Wallace down a long corridor to a book-lined study. A stunning blonde whom he recognized from her pictures was seated on a leather couch awaiting him. As he entered the study she rose and extended her hand in greeting.<\/p>\n \u201cWelcome,\u201d said Goddess Marquesa, \u201cI\u2019m so glad you were able to come, Mr. Simmons.\u201d<\/p>\n Simmons shook the Goddess\u2019s hand, giving a slight but courteous bow. \u201cOn reading your advertisement I could not resist, Mistress Marquesa: \u2018The Cure for Affluenza. Do you feel restless? Unfulfilled? Have former pleasures lost their luster?\u2019 Uncanny. I recognized myself in your description right away. Do you really think you can help?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, I am very confident. But first let me offer you some refreshment. Would you like something to drink?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, please. A scotch and soda.\u201d<\/p>\n Goddess Marquesa picked up a small bell from a side table and rang it. At the sound a maid entered wearing traditional continental livery that showed off her long legs and trim figure to good effect. \u201cPour our guest a scotch and soda, please,\u201d instructed Goddess Marquesa. The maid set to her task wordlessly.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you always based in Las Vegas?\u201d asked Simmons.<\/p>\n \u201cNo, I\u2019m a California girl,\u201d the Goddess replied. \u201cI meet my special patients in this little pied-\u00e0-terre. I acquired it from a client who had run out of funds to pay my fees and offered me this house by way of barter.\u201d<\/p>\n As she said this the maid handed Simmons his drink. Accepting it, Simmons noted the large size of the maid\u2019s hands, and the rather masculine ring engraved JFW3 adorning her middle finger. Looking up, he realized that the maid\u2019s face was covered in what could only be five-o\u2019clock shadow. Before he could investigate further the \u201cmaid\u201d got down on all fours and kissed Goddess Marquesa\u2019s feet.<\/p>\n \u201cThat will be all, Johnnie,\u201d said the Goddess to her prone servant. \u201cWe\u2019ll call again if we need you.\u201d As the \u201cmaid\u201d withdrew a sudden feeling of unease overtook Simmons.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m feeling a bit unwell…,\u201d coughed Simmons through fresh beads of sweat, \u201cI wonder if perhaps we might postpone this meeting\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSssshhh, darling\u2026\u201d cooed Goddess Marquesa. \u201cRelax. Breathe. Everything\u2019s all right. All right…\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Goddess Marquesa examined the enormous oaken door before her. It was stained a deep, lustrous auburn and carved with interlocking geometric designs. There was no doorbell, only a huge knocker in the shape of Heracles receiving the girdle of Hippolyta, with Heracles\u2019s club serving as the mallet. This portal, as far as Goddess Marquesa could […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":69,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[8,4],"tags":[704,708,271,703,701,39,71,706,702,707,705],"class_list":["post-2621","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-inspired-by-goddess-marquesa","category-stories","tag-competition","tag-contract","tag-control","tag-erotic-excitement","tag-erotica","tag-marquesa","tag-obedience","tag-orgasm-control","tag-personal-understanding","tag-surprise","tag-wager"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p2FCuA-Gh","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/hypno-erotica.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2621","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/hypno-erotica.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/hypno-erotica.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hypno-erotica.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/69"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hypno-erotica.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2621"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/hypno-erotica.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2621\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2622,"href":"https:\/\/hypno-erotica.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2621\/revisions\/2622"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/hypno-erotica.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2621"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hypno-erotica.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2621"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hypno-erotica.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2621"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}