Stefano Bodoni lost his mother in a tragic plane crash when he was only nine years old. He was with her when it happened and to that day he wasn’t sure how he had survived.
The memories of that day were burned into his mind like a searing fire. No matter how much time passed, he would never forget the agonizing screams and the smell of burning flesh. It happened on a sunny morning, one that promised nothing but joy and laughter. The Mediterranean countryside below was peaceful and green and all the passengers were in good spirits. But then, as if out of a cruel nightmare, the flying machine started to shudder and shake. Stefano’s heart leaped into his throat and his stomach turned as he watched her mother’s face fill with panic and terror. He wanted to cry out, to tell her it would be okay, but he knew it was too late.
Dark smoke filled the cabin, acrid and suffocating. It was so thick it made it hard to breathe. Through the haze, Stefano saw the flames erupt from both sides of the plane, the metal wings blazing as if they were a phoenix consuming itself. He heard the shrieks of the flight attendants as they were tossed like rag dolls across the aisle, the wails of parents who had just lost their children, and the pleas for help that seemed to go unheard.
Stefano felt his mother’s arms enveloping him. He clung to her, desperately trying to ignore the mayhem all around. He tried to imagine himself somewhere else, anywhere else, but his brain wouldn’t let him escape the horror of almost certain death.
The rudder exploded in scorching yellow and orange hues and the plane descended rapidly, the ground coming closer and closer. The young boy looked one last time at his terrified mother and closed his eyes. Just when it seemed he would be crushed by the impact, everything went black.
He awoke to the sound of frantic sirens and the sight of burned human remains scattered amidst the wreckage. The smell of smoke and death hung heavy in the air and Stefano was filled with a pang of intense sadness. He was in tears, and his heart ached now that his beautiful mother was gone.
After the funeral, his father, Cesare, a traditional Italian man born and bred in the mountainous region of Calabria, vowed to never love another woman in his life but the brain often promises things the heart can’t keep, and his feelings changed when they left the Old Continent behind.
Eleven months and three days after Stefano graduated in Engineering at the University of Padua, he received a surprising job offer from a friend overseas. The money involved was too good to be ignored and the only downside to it was leaving his old home to embrace the hustle and bustle of The City of Angels. He took up the offer but brought his father with him. After losing the love of his life, Cesare had aged considerably and could no longer appreciate the finer things in life. A change of scenery was just what the doctor prescribed for even though the memories would never go away - he didn’t want them to! - they could pave the way for new breathtaking experiences in a faraway land.
Los Angeles was a cacophony of sounds and life with secrets in every corner and overflowing passion in the eyes and lips of the women living there. Even without trying, Stefano quickly became the center of attention of the women in his new workplace. Both co-workers and clients loved his neatly styled dark hair and strong and masculine jawline. His olive skin was smooth and flawless, with a hint of stubble that gave him a slightly rugged edge. His lips were full, and his smile was wide, showing off a set of perfectly straight, white teeth. His eyes were a bright blue, but with a certain mysteriousness that drew people in. He had inherited most of his traits from his mother.
Despite being immediately coveted by the women he interacted with, he shied away from any meaningful form of interaction. Working was his real passion, not the vagaries of flesh. As for his father, under the bright American sun, Cesare found new life filling his soul and, one day, while having lunch with Stefano downtown, he ran into a woman who showed him it was okay to love again. Her name was Rita Hoffman, a two-time widower who owned a country club in Beverly Hills. She also had a younger friend named Daphne that never left her side, and that had always been attracted to men with tantalizing accents. Their chance encounter soon turned into an uncontrollable lust for one another, a fiery tempest that had nowhere to go but marriage. And so it came to be that Stefano found himself with a new family.
Notwithstanding some initial reluctance, Stefano liked Rita a lot and they got along splendidly. Daphne was a different beast altogether. Petite yet powerful, she had platinum blonde hair, sultry lips, and exuded elegance from every pore, a modern-day princess that loved luxury and wore it like a second skin. Her body was sculpted to perfection by Nature and skilled scalpels with her ample breasts and toned thighs being the most obvious highlights. However, the most exotic thing about her is that no one except her friend knew the true color of her eyes. Daphne wore different contact lenses every day either to match her extravagant outfits or simply to look more mysterious and inaccessible than she already was. Whether they were green, blue, purple, or any other shade of the chromatic spectrum, they gave her already enticing gaze an intensity that was hard to resist, and that was something that pleased her.
Unlike Rita who had a more pragmatic approach to life, Daphne saw herself as deserving of royal treatment at all times. Her beauty was tainted by a hint of arrogance. Both ambition and entitlement suited her and when she clicked her heels, she expected others to behave in accordance with her wealth and status, showing meek deference and an eagerness to please. That included both men and women although she preferred to see the former in their proper place at her feet. From the day she met Stefano to the moment he officially became part of her friend's family, not once did she see him as her equal but as someone she wanted to play with and manipulate.
As observant as he thought he was, he never perceived her true intentions. For months after the wedding, he was convinced she simply didn’t like him and that trying to establish a meaningful connection with her was a waste of time. Their occasional conversations were brief and devoid of meaning. She was a stranger in pretty dresses and nothing more. Could this sad realization ever change?
The answer was yes but in a way beyond his wildest dreams. The turning point began a week after Thanksgiving when Daphne invited him to have lunch with her in her mansion. It would be just the two of them, a heartfelt conversation to address the tension and apparent animosity between them. Stefano agreed to her request, taking some time off the office to, hopefully, get to know her for real. That’s exactly what happened, and his life changed forever.
It was a cold Wednesday but not too cold that warranted heavy clothes or scarves. Stefano showed up for lunch wearing an attractive Navy blue three-piece suit while Daphne wore her favorite black leather corset, a matching mid-length skirt, ankle-high boots with golden soles, and a plethora of accessories and pieces of jewelry. An emerald necklace, encrusted with diamonds, twinkled around her neck. There were similar earrings in her ears and several rings on her fingers. A bracelet with the same gemstones encircled her right wrist, adding an extra sense of luxury to her ensemble. Her eyes were deep green that early afternoon, immediately capturing his attention as he walked inside.
After a round of friendly greetings, they sat together in the main dining room where their meal had already been set. The appetizer comprised an arugula and green apple salad with toasted pine nuts, and it was followed by a Tasmanian salmon filet with Dutch carrot puree. For dessert, Daphne had a fresh raspberry mousse, with a crème brûlée center, raspberry biscuit, and raspberry glaze. A bottle of oak-aged Chardonnay was their drink of choice. Everything was exquisite just like her, and the moment the cutlery was put to rest, she said,
“I hope everything was to your liking.”
“Most definitely,” Stefano nodded gently. “My compliments to the chef.”
“I suppose you’re wondering why I asked you to join me today. Dare I say you’ve been thinking about it since I extended my invitation?”
“Perhaps...” He leaned against the red velvet chair and rested his left hand under his chin.
“Good. It’s no secret that we haven’t exactly been on the best of terms. Do you know why that is?”
“You live on a pedestal, Daphne, and I don’t. I was always under the impression that you don’t care about me at all.”
“That’s not true. I like you and the fact that you’re here today is proof of that. Why would I bother to have such a fancy meal prepared otherwise?”
“Good question. Some form of power play? I don’t know you that well but it’s obvious you enjoy showing off, case in point what you’re wearing today.”
“So you’ve noticed...”
“Kind of hard not to...” He smirked. “So, what’s the real reason for my presence here today?”
“I want to make things right between us but first I’d like you to tell me how you really feel about me. Don’t mince your words. There’s nothing you can say that will upset me.” She pursed her lips and purred.
“You’re a gorgeous woman but you’re also conceited. I don’t know if it’s because you were born into money and never had to worry about not having it or if it’s a dominant trait of your personality, but you can be quite self-aggrandizing around others.”
“And you don’t find that attractive, I take it.”
“Not really, no. You think you’re superior to others and that doesn’t sit well with me.”
“I don’t think that, Stefano. I know I am. I’m better than you because women are superior to men.”
“You state that as if it’s an undeniable fact...” He pushed the empty glass of wine away from him.
“I state the truth and nothing more.” Daphne waved her ringed hand before her viridescent eyes.
“Then I guess we have to agree to disagree. Just because your side of the family is loaded, that doesn’t mean you’re better than me.”
“It’s not about the money. There’s plenty of evidence to support my beliefs if you’re willing to listen.”
“I suspect you’ll present it even if I say no, so go ahead. Tell me, Daphne, why do you think women are superior to men?”
“Well, Stefano, I think it’s because women have more emotional intelligence, which allows us to better understand and solve complex problems. We’re also more intuitive and have a better understanding of social dynamics. Multiple studies have also shown that we are better communicators, better decision-makers, and more creative overall.”
“Studies can say a lot of things and I bet that if I look around hard enough I’ll find plenty that say the opposite of what you just claimed, so you’ll have to do better than that.”
“Women are more likely to use verbal communication to express their thoughts and feelings. We’re also more prone to more elaborate forms of body language and facial expressions to make our points across. More than that, we’re better listeners who take the time to really understand what someone else is saying or trying to say.”
“That proves nothing. Men can do all of that too.”
“Yes, but we’re more skilled at picking up non-verbal cues which help us better understand the situations we’re in and make better decisions because of that. I can read you as easily as I can read other men, but you can’t say the same thing about me.”
“No offense, Daphne, but you’re sounding like a walking textbook, and those ‘lessons’ mean nothing to me. At best, we’re equal. Both men and women have distinctive mental and physical characteristics that complement one another. No amount of reasoning you can produce will convince me otherwise.”
Daphne crossed her legs under the table and interlocked her fingers in a defiant pose.
“Ah, I was hoping you wouldn’t say that. It would have been easier if you had simply agreed to my point of view from the start,” she declared.
“I can’t do that.”
“That’s too bad because there are benefits to doing so. People who live by my word and obey me are the ones I like the most. I want you to be one of those people, Stefano, a true follower. Will you follow me and submit to my will without hesitation?”
“Hmmm, I guess I was right about the power play angle. All of this was but a ruse to get me to play by your rules. If you’re looking to be surrounded by submissive people who treat you like royalty, you’ve come barking at the wrong tree, Daphne.”
“Silly Stefano, Goddesses don’t bark. They grace the world with their beauty and radiance and receive selfless devotion in return from those who are worthy. Of course, those people are few compared to the multitude of others who cannot understand this simple truth in life, but everyone can be trained. Your current ideas need not define you forever and now that I’ve come clean with you, I’m one hundred percent certain you’ll change the way I want you to.”
“And why are you so certain of that?”
"I'll tell if you agree to play a little game with me."
"What sort of game?"
"One I'm sure you'll ultimately love. Trust me, please. Do you agree?"
"Hmmm, not sure."
"Indulge me, please."
"Does it involve anything dangerous?"
"No, just a little change in your perception. Allow me to show you what I mean."
"Okay then. Please explain."
“Thank you. Women have a defining trait, one I embody to perfection. We are more hypnotic and therefore more seductive and captivating.” She batted her curved eyelashes and her eyes glowed green as she stared deep into his soul. The emeralds in her gaze drew him in as if she was being pulled into a spiraling vortex. “You like this, don’t you, Stefano? Look into my eyes as I talk to you. Have you ever wondered why legends and fairytales are filled with seductresses? Witches, sorceresses, mermaids, sirens, beautiful vampires, and succubi? The main reason is that there’s a bit of magic in every woman, one we can easily harness to make our wishes come true. Most men dream of such powerful women because, deep inside, there’s something in your genetic code that elicits such a response. Sure, you say many things to the contrary, but when women take charge, you love it and accept the deliverance of surrender as if it’s the most natural response in the world. It’s easy to stare into a woman’s eyes and be cradled by their velvety words as they weave a spell over your mind and body. Keep looking at me, your breathing calm and relaxed, your thoughts focused only on what’s in front of you, your ears blocking all other sounds except the ones coming from my perfect red lips. You’ve said it yourself you think I’m gorgeous and the more you stare the more beautiful I become. Your mind is already drifting within my words, your cock hardening and becoming easier to handle. If I were to touch it right now with the tip of my fingers, you’d feel an electric rush coursing your body, a spike of electricity flowing from the bottom of your soles to the top of your head. This too is natural, a simple way for your body to acknowledge pleasure and react to it. Women easily seduce men because men want to be seduced, and your eyes are locked in mine because it’s what your subconscious desires. You can’t escape this wondrous sensation as you sink deep into me, becoming enchanted and hypnotized... hypnotized... so effortlessly taken and hypnotized for me. My eyes are inside your mind and so is my voice. You are already hypnotized, Stefano... hypnotized... hypnotized... you were always meant to be hypnotized by me.”
Stefano listened to her mesmerizing suggestions, eyelids slowly sinking into a gentle stupor where no independent thought was allowed. He floated for her, beyond the shackles of his drooping body and into the depths of somewhere new, a place that was peaceful and infinite. It was the realm beyond imagination, a reflection of worship and devotion, mirrored in her luminous contact lenses.
“Already deeply hypnotized and unable to break free...” she continued, with every syllable she uttered sounding like a comforting lullaby. “Lost in my eyes only to be found in love and allegiance. You love this is happening to you. You love staring into my eyes and falling like a rock knowing that even if you touch the bottom, you’ll never drown. Keep sinking, hypnotized and asleep, hypnotized, and receptive, wanting to change for me, and needing that change to start happening now.”
Stefano’s hands fell heavily on the tablecloth, his shoulders malleable, his lips half-open in awe and bewilderment. He had no thoughts, no memories, and no physical body. What was left of him at that moment was a stream of pure consciousness merging with hers, his free will submerged in the cradle of creation.
“Now you see my power and why I said the things I did,” Daphne cooed. “It was all to bring you here and pull you deeper. My eyes are your will. You are hypnotized and controlled by my eyes, and that’s a good thing. Give it all up for me so you can experience uninhibited ecstasy. Hypnotized... hypnotized... hypnotized... free to have no thoughts of your own ever again. Sink, Stefano. You can’t resist me.”
He nodded mechanically with no real awareness of his muscles or any other part of his corporeal self. Everything was green and bewitching, the entire universe swept away by her eyes. Without breaking eye contact, Daphne stood up and pressed her right boot against his chair, pushing it aside to bring him to his knees. Stefano’s head bobbed up and down before freezing at a slightly upward angle where her shadow descended over him, strengthening her hypnotic power. Prostrated before her, his face was now a mask of desire, with both fear and lust mixed in equal measure.
Daphne stood in silence, letting the overwhelming moment wash over them both. She then reached out a slender, pale hand and gently caressed his face, her green contact lenses completely absorbing his mind and soul.
“I’m superior to you. You will do as I say,” she said in a soft yet commanding voice. She continued to stroke his right cheek, her fingers tracing the contours of his face with a delicate sensuality.
Stefano felt himself inching closer to her. He was no longer the same man that had entered her mansion, only a puppet on a string, every part of him under her spell.
“Kiss my boots,” Daphne commanded.
His eager lips pulled him toward the soft leather, and he obeyed, betrayed by a kiss, and another, and another... She stood motionless, relishing the power she had over his entranced spirit. Like all other men she enjoyed having around, Stefano’s true purpose in life was to succumb to her hypnotic charms. Trembling with pleasure, he devoured the tip of her boots, his mind stuck to the bottom of an endless sea of love and addiction.
“You are mine,” she said in a soft whisper. “I am your Goddess.”
Stefano felt his heart beating faster, his breath coming in short gasps.
“Yes,” he murmured, kissing her boots once more before looking up at her.
“Good,” she said, her gaze never leaving his.
Melting even further, he almost passed out with delight. The desire in him was so strong he could hardly stand it.
The moment seemed to last an eternity, and when Daphne finally stepped away, Stefano felt a wave of relief bathe his sweaty forehead. He felt a part of him that had been missing suddenly return, and as he followed the sway of sexy footwear, he knew he would never forget this moment.
Daphne smiled one last time, her hypnotic gaze still holding him in its grasp.
“You are mine,” she said again, her voice full of power and promise.
Stefano nodded, his head bowed in utmost submission. The argument was lost, her superiority confirmed beyond the shadow of a doubt. He would forever recall the day he lost his mother, but the same could be said of the afternoon he lost his independence. Daphne owned him now.
“You are my Goddess. I’m yours to command,” he mumbled, prostrated at her feet.
“Good. We finally understand each other, don't we?” Daphne chirped, cementing her rightful authority over him for the rest of his days. To be hers was to be divine too, and divinity never ends. She will be obeyed.

The End