Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Thrall
   by Nysidra
   Occult Fantasy (MF, magic, netherworld)
   <->
   She was just a toddler the first time I saw her.  I opened my eyes as
the basement door opened and looked up to see the tiny human girl taking
the steps carefully.  She would pause to look up the stairs, listen. 
Confident she had not been missed, she continued her descent.
   I had sat up by then, watching with interest.  I did not get the chance
to see human young often, and this one seemed particularly curious.
   I was curious to know what she would see.
   She walked around the basement, looking around the room at my master's
items.  She slowed when she noticed me.  There was not the yelp of fear I
expected.  She had an awe about her, an awareness.
   She walked right up to the door of my cage and peered at me.  We stared
at each other in silence.
   "Why you in a puppy suit?" She questioned boldly.
   A suit?  Interesting.
   "I see you hiding in there," she sang as she tossed her shoulders and
hips about.  "Hiding in that puppy suit!"
   She reached into the cage, fitting her arm in to the shoulder, and
reached up to touch me.  I sat still, allowing her fingers to graze my
shoulder.
   I licked her arm and got a taste of the little girl.  She saw through my
illusion of an animal.  Insightful little human.
   Grinning and swaying, her fingers caressed my face while she sang her
'puppy suit' song.  "I see you hiding in that puppy suit, looking cute. 
Come on puppy, play with me."
   "Kiera!" a woman's voice, a mother's call.
   The girl stilled and snatched her hand back.  "Bye bye," she whispered
fretfully.
   She crawled up the stairs with an agility and grace beyond her years. 
She was at the landing on the other side of the door before anyone found
her.
   "Where do you think you're going?" The mother admonished.  "I told you
to stay outside.  I hope you have that door locked."
   "Of course," my master said soothingly.  Several seconds later I heard
the click of the basement door as the lock slid in place.
   I settled down onto my bed.  The day had not turned out to be so boring.
I rolled the taste of her around on my tongue.  In a different
circumstance, I would have shed my suit and catapulted her life from one of
normalcy to regency, from the mundane to the enchanted.  From my cage, I
only had the brief meeting, the fleeting taste.  I was bought and traded
and told what duties to fill.
   I needed to see her again.  Perhaps one day when I have shed my captors,
my chains, and my 'puppy suit.'
   One day I would find my little Kiera.
   ***
   Kiera pulled the shawl tight around her shoulders.  "Why is it so cold
in here?" When the shawl didn't help, she got up to check the thermostat.
   Blood curdling screams rose from the basement, made worse by the fact
they were a chorus of male screams.  Several loud thumps, heavy enough that
glass and other loose items in the house rattled.  Wood groaned, something
shattered.  The lights hummed, faded, then flickered, but they remained on.
   She walked over to the basement door, her breaths just short of
panicked. The commotion downstairs had stopped, but she didn't hear anyone
crying out, calling her name.
   Her ears strained for information.  She had been David's assistant for
three years.  Her goal was to be down there, working as his apprentice,
learning about sorcery and the world beyond the veil.  Each time, he chose
another for that distinction, always one of his other assistants, always
another male.  Two of them were down there now, possibly injured or dead.
   They could have used her.  When it came to esoteric knowledge, Kiera was
a voracious learner.  She even tutored David's apprentices in secret.  One
day, David was going to reward her for her patience and loyal service. 
He'd teach her the secrets of the netherworld.
   He couldn't do that if he ended up dead.
   Kiera tapped on the door.  "David?  Jason?  Leonard?  Is everything okay
down there?"
   Small sounds: hollow rolling, crackling, wood groaned, movement.  Heavy
respiration.
   Something big was on the other side of that door, listening, waiting. 
She could feel its impression: imposing, powerful, dangerous.  Neither
David, nor Jason, nor Leonard.
   Deep breath in, long breath out.  It must have been massive.
   Kiera took a step back.  David's protection wards were most powerful at
the base of the stairs.  If this thing was on the other side of the door,
upstairs, then she was already in trouble.  The door didn't mean anything.
She had already called out, given her position.  Running would not help
her.
   She wiped her sweating palms on her skirt.  She turned the knob and
opened the cellar door.
   Dark.  Tall.  Male.  Naked.  His right arm was covered in pitch black
tattoos.  Rust red rivulets of drying blood marked his chest.  Some of it
had dried and flaked around the curls of thick black hair between his
pectorals.  As for the hair on his head it dripped with dark liquid. 
Probably more blood.  His large eyes glowed with a brownish yellow cast. 
Full lips.  Large muscles.  Over a foot taller and easily a hundred pounds
heavier than her.
   Sorcerers, especially the best, met their end when hubris out paced
skill.  Was that was happened to David?  Where in the netherworld had this
creature come from?  What was she going to do?  Kiera had read her fair
share of books, but she lacked the practical knowledge and experience to
deal with a creature face to face.
   Weirdest of all, she didn't feel afraid.  He smelled of violence, but
she felt oddly calm in his presence.
   Kiera cleared her throat.  She used the weird state to her advantage. 
Easier to show deference and respect if she weren't sputtering and
screaming in fear.
   "Is there anyone left alive down there?"
   "They all live." His gravelly and deep voice was thick with disgust.
   Good.  Okay.  They could speak and understand each other.  That helped.
   "Is there..." Kiera clenched her jaw.  Regardless of her state of shock,
the last thing she should be doing was questioning the man.  "My apologies.
I should not question you."
   Kiera's attention darted to the darkness of the cellar.  Whether or not
they lived, her future as a sorcerer was over before it ever began.
   All she could hope to do was get out of this place alive.
   He sniffed the air and looked around the room behind her.  His chest
expanded as he drew a lungful of air.
   Since he wasn't looking at her, she looked down.  Holy shit, she needed
to get that thing in a cage.
   A cage.
   Her brows pinched in memory, but no further images came to mind.
   "You are Kiera."
   She broke into goosebumps.  "I am." How did he know her name?  Was she
supposed to use some kind of title with him?  Did she dare ask for his
name?
   He took another deep breath and stepped onto the landing.
   Kiera backed away, giving him ample room to pass.  Light from the
kitchen glistened off the sweat, blood, and the dark markings down his
back, standing out against the deep reddish brown cast of his skin.  Even
from the rear, she could see his sex organ dangling between his thighs. 
My, what a big boy.
   "I have been looking for you." He stalked into the kitchen.  "Once I
found you, I requested your presence often." He grabbed a dishtowel and
wiped blood from his arm and face.
   Light headedness, confusion.  What was he talking about?
   "Me?" She held her hand out for the towel.
   He handed her the towel, but kept looking around as if waiting for
someone else to walk into the kitchen.
   "I met you once a long time ago.  Your power called out to me like a
song, leading me back to you.  They made the deal for you, but did not
deliver on our bargain."
   Kiera rinsed the towel, wrung it out, wiped down his back.  Her whole
body shook, adrenaline, nerves, fear, but she kept to the task.
   "What do you mean?" Everything she'd read warned against questioning an
unbound creature, but she had to know.  He'd met her before?  Her power?
   He looked over his shoulder with a smirk.  "I am pleased to have found
you, Kiera.  I know I look much different without my puppy suit."
   The floor must have turned to jelly.  The world beneath her shifted and
Kiera collapsed onto the floor.  She put both hands out to keep the room
from spinning.  That day in the basement had changed her life.  She'd
wanted to be a sorceress so that she could have a powerful creature under
her control, secrets she'd kept from the world.  Her whole body chilled as
dread iced her veins.
   Did David know?  Is that why he refused to teach her?  Was there
something she'd done wrong?  Had she called this creature on them?
   As if she were light as a child, he picked her up from the floor and
held her in his arms.  "I wanted to meet you, sorceress.  He lied to me. 
He said you were not trained, that you could not answer my summons.  He
said you refused my invitation."
   Kiera shook her head emphatically.  What?  No!  "I'm...I am not trained.
I never heard about any summons.  I am not a sorceress.  He said I wasn't
ready.  I can't."
   "He lies.  I will not be lied to any more.  I remember you little one,
and your power has only grown since that day.  Take me to your home."
   Kiera stared at him.  The large wolf in that cage had a man's eyes, not
those of a canine.  That's why she never believed the illusion.  Like a
naive little girl she had reached into the cage to pet him.
   "You ...  do you wish to harm me?" She needed to ask, no matter how
ridiculous the question, and she needed to hear his answer.
   "I want to be away from this place before I kill them."
   There were other ridiculous questions in the queue.  Why did he want to
meet her in the first place?  Did she do something wrong by sneaking down
in the basement?  What kind of power was he talking about?  How in the
world did he find her?  Her stomach churned as he set her on her feet.
   The sorceress he wanted to meet.  What would happen after his bitter
disappointment?  Who would take her on as an assistant now?  She'd never
make apprentice, never mind sorcerer.  What kind of life would she have? 
She had wanted to be a sorcerer for as long as she could remember.  She'd
gone down into that basement following a crazy idea that she'd find
something important down there.
   What she should have done was banish him, send him back over the veil,
but if her mentor couldn't manage it, she would have been a fool to try. 
She needed to work on surviving the night.
   ***
   "Is there a name I can call you by?" Kiera asked as she ushered him into
her car.
   "Xavier." He held the sheet around his waist by one hand.  It was the
best she could do in such short time.
   "Handsome name."
   Her stomach knotted as she counted all the rules she broke by driving
off with him.  Kiera felt sick, knowing what punishments lay in her future.
Stealing away with an entity she did not conjure, transporting a
demonstrably dangerous netherworld being without proper wards.
   The fact that she'd met him once before when she was a child.  How did
she survive that?
   "You are fearful." Xavier sounded confused.
   "I will be punished for helping you."
   He grinned as if bemused by her answer.  "Fear me before you think to
fear any human."
   Yes.  She needed to be more afraid of him.  Kiera escorted the six and a
half foot tall creature into her thousand square foot home.
   He turned in a slow circle, looking around, clearly upset with the
accommodations.  "You live here?"
   "I do." She locked the door and turned on the lights.
   Xavier grumbled as he checked the other rooms.  It didn't take him long.
   She stood frozen near the door.  Was there something wrong with her
place?
   He turned toward her.  "Remove your covering."
   Kiera didn't need to ask what he meant.  Did she have the ability to
refuse?  Was it that big a deal?
   No.  Not even.  She was in no position to refuse him.
   She shrugged out of her clothes, carried them to the hamper.
   Xavier shadowed her, his iridescent eyes scoured her body like they had
her home, seeing everything, every flaw, every disappointment.  Her
undergarments went last.  He took her hand, looked at her fingers, turned
her hand over in his.  He looked over her arm and touch an old scar on her
shoulder.  He inspected her like a piece of clothing in a bargain bin.  His
finger grazed each scar, wound, ache, and old break she'd known her whole
life.  What was the purpose of this?  She shivered as he sank to his knees,
looked at her legs.
   "Sit." He paused while she sat on the chest at the foot of her bed.  He
took her foot in his hand.
   Kiera closed her eyes.  She needed to remember her knowledge of the
netherworld.  While she had been foolishly taken in by her fantasies of
meeting such creatures, she couldn't let that foolishness rule her at the
moment.  What were they doing here?
   Her eyes fluttered as he withdrew.  He unwrapped the sheet and extended
his hand.
   Kiera took the massive hand in hers.  He allowed her the same
inspection. For all she knew this was customary.
   No.  She tried to imagine David, naked, physically inspecting a Zorient.
No way.  No how.
   If this was the custom then there would be far better descriptions in
the books.  Kiera took to the task with earnest, memorizing each detail,
noting each difference.  She touched each raised bone on his back, traced
the contours of his tattoo.
   She initially considered it a tattoo though it appeared to be more like
a natural birthmark.  His skin was a ruddy bronze, the designs a coal
black. His hair had a loose curl, thick and heavy to the touch.  His eyes,
still glowing, were enchanting.  She brushed her lips to his and her
stomach fluttered.
   Was she insane?
   Kiera pulled away and continued her inspection.  When she reached his
groin her hands trembled.  She touched just long enough to confirm her
sight, very substantive and human like.  She placed her nervous hands to
his massive thighs.
   "Thank you.  I'm not sure why, but I get the notion that I should be
thankful."
   "We learn that a human's greatest fear is that of the unknown." Xavier
brushed his lips to hers as she'd done moments before.  "I have heard the
female of your species are the worse, and yet, you show a remarkable
mastery of your fears.  You have grown into a beautiful human.  I will
teach you."
   "And in return?"
   "In return, you will be mine: my sorceress, my oracle, as I wanted from
the moment I tasted your flesh, heard your child-like call to play.  When I
found you, you were promised to me and then denied."
   David had become increasingly irritable in the past year.  He didn't
approve any of her requests to move forward with her studies, to gain some
practical knowledge in the field.  He outright refused her access to the
cellar.  Now she knew why: a creature from the Netherworld had requested
her presence by name.
   "What were you doing for him?  What was I worth?" Was that too rude to
ask?  She sucked in her bottom lip and bit down on it.
   Xavier brushed a finger along her lip.  "I will show you how to ward
this place, to keep our meeting secret." He stood and took her by the hand.
   "Do I have to stay naked?"
   "Why not?  You are in your lair, and I will show you how to secure it."
   "I'm cold.  Clothes provide warmth."
   "I like the look of your body," he said, rummaging through her kitchen.
He found a mixing bowl and stared at the sink.  "How does your fountain
work?"
   Kiera stood at the counter, stunned.  As far as bodies went, hers got a
fair share of attention, but from humans.  Surely his own kind had taller,
stronger, more suitable females.  She lifted the lever.
   "This way for warmer, this way cooler." Kiera stepped back.  "We also
wear clothes to decorate a body.  I would feel more comfortable."
   "Go," he said.  "Hurry back."
   Kiera dashed to her room and pulled a bag from the top shelf of her
closet, the bag of things rarely worn.  She chose the dark red and black
gown.  She often imagined herself as a newly appointed sorcerer, milling
about in her stately home, with an assistant at her beck and call.  If he
really liked the look of her body, then this would prove her point about
decoration.
   She returned to the kitchen.  She'd read about wards in Leonard's lesson
book only last week.  She stopped at his side, browsing the items he'd set
out.  Impossible to ignore was the hunk of meat hovering between his legs.
He had a hell of an erection.  Kiera turned her attention to the bowl of
water and stared at it, focused on the ripples of light from above.
   "Are you warm now?"
   Kiera covered her mouth and giggled behind her hand.  "Um, Yes."
   "As am I," he whispered.  Xavier launched into the lesson which was
nothing like Leonard's notes or David's preparation.
   She didn't bother rephrasing her own knowledge.  Whatever a Zorient had
to say about warding trumped anything else.
   "Use the blood as a gate check.  You can also create wards that deny
entry."
   "Really?"
   He put a finger to her lips.  "Not a word of this to another.  My
lessons are for you alone."
   "Not a word."
   "Cut yourself first.  First blood establishes you as the owner.  Use the
incantation, then add my own."
   "You want me to cut you?"
   Xavier put the knife in her hand.  "You first."
   Kiera followed his instruction, adding the ingredients to the water, her
blood, and then she took his hand.  His blood was far darker, thicker, like
crude oil.  Last was the thickening agent.
   "Corner of each wall, of each door frame, each window.  Just a touch."
He shadowed her as she moved through each room, half erection bobbing
along. Those glowing eyes appraised her body more than her job applying the
wards.
   She was in so much trouble.
   ***
   David woke in a panic, surrounded by blood, destroyed furniture, and
broken wards.  He and his assistants were alive, if injured.  He raced up
the stairs in a panic.  "Kiera!" he called out, "Kiera!" He searched every
room, but found no trace of her.  Her car was gone.  Hopefully she left
before the commotion.
   What if the Zorient followed her?
   David called her house.  The phone rang, but she never answered.  On his
second call he left a message.  "Kiera, call me.  I need to speak with you.
Your life may be in grave danger.  Call me immediately."
   David pressed a hand to his wound.  With any luck, the creature returned
to the netherworld, but David doubted it would return empty handed.
   He had pressed his luck, stringing such a powerful creature along for so
long.  Now his own assistant may pay the price.
   ***
   David's message arrived as she was putting the warding materials away.
   Grave danger, according to David.  Her situation hardly seemed grave. 
Did David think Xavier wanted to kill her?  Or would she be killed if
anyone knew she'd helped him escape?  As if she had to ask.  Her crime was
punishable by death.
   Xavier's jaw muscle twitched as he listened to the message.
   "I should call him back, tell him I'm all right."
   He eyes settled on her.  "Go on."
   Kiera picked up her phone and dialed David.
   He was frantic, asking if she was okay.  "If you hadn't called me by
morning, I was going to call the council."
   "I don't want any part of what went on."
   He sounded hurt by that answer, but recovered.  "Have you heard or seen
anything since you left?"
   "No, and I'd prefer to keep it that way.  I can find other employment."
   "Kiera.  Don't be rash.  I know you want an apprenticeship, but think
about your future."
   "I'm thinking all right.  I wanted an apprenticeship, but you've made it
clear that can't be with you, and after tonight ...  Good night, David."
   Kiera set down the phone with a trembling hand.  She'd never said
something so strongly to him.
   Xavier took her hand and led her to her bedroom.  "This is where you
sleep?"
   "Yes.  What about you?  I could get you something."
   Xavier released her hand and pulled the covers back.  "Sleep.  We have
much to do."
   Kiera got onto the bed and held her breath as he lay down beside her. 
He pulled the covers up over that body and pulled her tight against him. 
Thank goodness for the gown, a thin layer of sanity between her body and
his.
   Kiera lay wide eyed in the dark, wrapped in the solid arms of a creature
many spent years of studying, learning, and training to conjure and
control.
   And yet she has done neither.
   Control.  She couldn't lose something she never had.
   Once Kiera fell asleep, her worries did not translate to her dreams. 
Those were always feverish, illicit.  Now her lover now had a face, a
strong jaw, thick hair, iridescent eyes, broad shoulders, a massive cock.
Kiera awoke with a jolt, covered in sweat.  It was barely morning,
   Xavier lay next to her, his eyes open.
   Embarrassed, Kiera slid out of bed and scurried to the bathroom.  She
splashed cold water on her face, brushed her teeth.  How long had he been
awake?  Did she talk in her sleep?  She shrugged out of her gown, now
sticky and cold with her sweat.  Her up thighs were slick with arousal. 
She had to wipe herself dry.
   He was still there when she returned, lying on his back, his hands
folded behind his head.  Naked and glorious from head to toe.
   She walked back to the bed and sat on the edge.  Maybe she needed to get
some clothes on.
   "You are a different female than the one you present in your mind."
   Kiera froze.  Different?  Did she say something?  Do something?  They
could see dreams?
   "That's what makes a dream, a dream.  I apologize if I've offended you
in some way with what you saw."
   Xavier sat up and tapped the bed.  "Here.  Sit with your back against
me."
   She moved back and sat near him.  He pulled her shoulders back,
straightened her posture.  She crossed her legs as his hands caressed and
massaged the muscles of her back.
   "Are you listening?"
   "Yes." She hung on his every word.  Her mind focused on every place
where his hand touched her.
   He lectured her on the stages of energy raising, storing, draining, and
channeling.  Each word accented with a different stroke, press, and caress.
He'd question her; she'd answer.  When she lost track, he'd take all the
affection and closeness away until she remembered.  She went from sitting
up between his legs to lying on her back under him, basking under his warm
body.  His manipulation of her muscles made her feel tingly and floaty. 
His lesson ended and she squirmed against his body, wallowing in a divine
ecstasy.  His thigh, wedged between hers, she wantonly pressed into him.
   "Like now," she purred.
   "Exactly like now."
   She moaned as the euphoria bounced through her.  Storing.  After raised,
it must be stored.  Wind it around a spindle in her mind.  Maintain, don't
waste it.  Kiera stopped squirming, pulled herself from under his body. 
Don't give in.  Breathe.  Reel it in.  Like a glowing coal it folded in
upon itself, in her womb, a vacant space for nether energy to hide.  And
she just knew it was nether energy, filtered through her human body.  No
one ever told her any other way.
   A chill rose the hair on her arms.
   Xavier leaned forward and embraced her.  "You should eat after.  It will
help.  Rest.  I will call you."
   Kiera nodded impassively as he lay her down and covered her body.  "Like
water and air," she muttered softly.  "Flowing all around, hard to grasp,
easier to contain.  Once contained, lying in wait for direction.  It must
be rested before it can be harnessed."
   Xavier returned minutes later and walked her to the kitchen, set her
down at the counter.
   "This is good," she said halfway through the meet, eggs, glass of water.
"I was going to go to the store, after I got paid, but since I quit--" She
put her fork down and looked to Xavier.  "Did I do what you wanted?"
   "You did more.  I would have guided you to that conclusion, but you
truly want to learn, and conquered your primal nature to achieve that
result."
   Kiera smiled.  She'd done more than he wanted, was a good student.  She
swelled with pride and finished her breakfast.  "It was fun," she smiled at
him.  Her primal nature had been subverted and hidden for years now.  It
was tougher in his presence, but not alien to her.
   "When did you learn to use a stove?"
   "I didn't use a stove."
   Kiera looked up and over at the stove then at her pot.  "Neat trick."
She finished all the food, and he was right, the disconnected sensation
disappeared.
   ***
   David paced the room as he cradled the phone to his ear.
   "I'm not sure it returned.  In fact, I'm sure he's out there looking for
her.
   "No, none of my tracers have been effective.
   "Yes, I understand the repercussions, but my punishment will be worse if
it finds her.
   "The laws are clear on single binds.  Death.  My death."
   David wore a tread in the floor with his pacing.
   "She won't answer my calls anymore.  I've scared her.  I need someone to
watch her, check in on her.  I can't do that if she doesn't trust me.
   "I'm well aware of that, but you know it was a deal I had to make.
   "Yes.  Of course.
   "Keep me apprised of the situation.  I'll try and clean this up on my
end."
   David checked his wound in the mirror, it was darkening, turning an
angry purple color.  The others had it as well.  The creature had withheld
the killing blow.  He could not repair his wards, call circles, or speak
into the void with this scar.  As long as the creature was free it would
feed off him, off all of them.
   Betrayer.  Liar.  Deceiver.  The Zorient had castrated him and David
needed it gone.
   ***
   Xavier heard music and a few minutes later, a hum filled the air.  She
had explained she needed to go shopping, but what did she bring with her?
   He found her in the middle of her main room dancing, eyes closed,
movements intentional, but unrefined.  After burns of light drifted from
her finger tips, bleeding out the energy he'd been training her to store.
   "Where did you learn that?"
   "I saw a sorceress doing it when I was a child." She chuckled.  "You
know how I like to stick my hand where it doesn't belong."
   He smiled.  "The Sorceress, why didn't she teach you?"
   "She was executed." She lifted her hand, flicked her wrist.  "I thought
I was safe since my home is warded."
   "You are safe, but do you know why she was put to death?"
   "I assume the dance had something to do with it since I've never read
anything that mentions it, though it was probably more to her crime than
that."
   He walked over to her, unable to watch her butcher the steps further. 
"This is something you wish to learn?"
   She stared at him in wide eyed silence.  "I don't know what 'this' is."
   "And yet you have committed the movements to memory."
   "It feels like the right thing to do.  Like smelling a food and wanting
it before you've tasted it."
   "You memorized the wrong parts.  The incantation is a series of stances,
postures.  You weave these statements with movement."
   "Like our ceremony of light?"
   "Your summer dance, yes, but with greater purpose and potency." He moved
his hands along her body, posing her.  "Memorize this.  Always return to
this, like a breath between statements.  When you do, breathe in, reel in.
You breathe out from this stance into the next one, pull on the reserve
then."
   "This will get me killed."
   "Perhaps.  They have to catch you first."
   They spent the day at it, like a dance class of military discipline,
position after position, until she could not bear another moment on her
feet.
   Xavier had pushed her long after he suspected she could use a break, but
the sight of her pushing herself, truly hungry for knowledge, stirred deep
feelings of pride and admiration.
   She dropped to the couch, but the postures and changes danced in her
mind.  She made the most of every situation, swallowed fear, learned
voraciously, and managed desires with the cool veil of modesty.  It was
David's loss and his gain that all others overlooked her passivity,
dismissed her wolfish eyes, reduced her to an invisible worker ant.
   "You're staring at me again."
   "You learn quickly."
   "Will I survive whatever you're using me for?"
   "If you don't survive, then you won't be of any use." He waved her over
to him.
   She moved stiffly, but rose and walked over to him.
   "You are not fresh game to butter and stuff for some future feast," he
confided as he lifted her into his arms.  "Though it is safer that others
draw this conclusion.  I want you as my sorceress, not my sacrifice."
   "A chef, not a main course," she offered.
   "Yes," he kissed her softly, slowly, allowing enough time to pass for
her to swallow enough of his saliva, but not so urgently as to set off her
self-preservation reflex, the trigger that urged the body to slow down,
save itself.
   She had taken enough to assist her muscles in healing, but Xavier did
not want to stop.  She did nothing to push him forward either, no excessive
groping, pleading moans, only her lips moved, willing and languid.  She
waited, open, passive, cautious, though he knew she dreamed of this and
more with greater frequency.  The kiss tapered off and Xavier breathed in
the pungent scent of her arousal.
   She rolled out of his arms and smoothed the fabric covering her body. 
"I'll get dinner on and start working on the portal."
   Xavier stalked off to the bedroom.  She was correct.  They had work to
do, but the taste of her lips stayed with him.  He was both proud of her
constraint and disappointed in it.  With each moment that passed, he wanted
to know what it would be like to have her come undone.
   Kiera's hand trembled as she layered the ingredients to bake.  It was
hard to believe Xavier had only a professional interest in her when he let
a kiss linger on like that.  She'd never kissed with such steeled restraint
and burning passion.
   He didn't want to kill her.  She was his apprentice.
   Creatures of the netherworld don't take apprentices.  They were not
sorcerers.  There's no ruling body to be accepted into.  When those wards
came down, a death sentence would be all that waited.
   Kiera closed the oven and scowled.  That wasn't true.  There were cases
of such things.  The first sorcerers were taught by someone.
   She couldn't remember why it was banned.  Safety reasons, she figured.
She sat with the notepad in her lap.  Time to practice portals, those
things, when constructed like the one in David's cellar, created a doorway
to the netherworld.
   Like any such door, this one would need better security.
   Xavier appeared hours later.  He looked at her sketches, answered her
questions, inquired as to her design changes.  It felt like a true learning
session.  "Take a break.  Eat."
   "What type are you?" She asked.
   "You call our kind Zorient."
   "You have another name as well."
   "You know of Zorient types?"
   "I think I've read about certain ones."
   "Do you think your education was accurate?"
   Kiera moved to prepare her plate, but Xavier had her sit in the living
room as he did the prep.  "It was one opinion.  I'd like to compare it with
my own." Kiera bit back the next thought.  Some names were banned to call
upon, deemed too dangerous, strong, malicious for civil dealings.
   Xavier carried a single plate and fork into the living room and sat
beside her.  She'd prepared the dish according to his instructions, but
wasn't sure what most of the items were or if they qualified as edible.  He
ate a mouthful and nodded earnestly.
   "Here," he offered a fork full to her.
   She chewed the casserole.  It was like a foreign food, differently
spiced, the meat pungent, bold.  She swallowed, agreeing with his
assessment.  It was delicious.
   "Why would David summon you?"
   "He never would, but it was a mistake he came to overlook."
   David?  Make a mistake?  Why didn't he immediately banish him if he
didn't mean to call him?  She stopped with the questions as they finished
eating from the same plate.  Kiera wondered why he chose to feed her, but
refused to ask.
   More than a few Zorients were on the the banned list, and though he
seemed friendly, David's warning of 'grave danger' rose from the depths of
her memory.
   ***
   Kiera needed a walk, but she ended up doing more sitting than walking.
Once she got to the park she sat on one of the swings and thought over the
past couple days.
   David didn't summon him.  Xavier must have been one of the banned
Zorient types.  Kiera knew she was to blame, because she had met him in her
youth.  She was to blame for what happened in David's house.
   Her fault.
   Kiera stood and watched as Leonard walked over to her.
   "Kiera, are you all right?"
   "Yes.  What are you doing out here?"
   "You should be careful.  Something is looking for you."
   "Really?" Kiera laughed, if a bit nervously.  "Well, I don't think that
will get you in my house." She started walking back home.
   "Listen.  I just want to have a look."
   "Check under my bed, my closets?"
   "Why are you mocking me?  You were there."
   "Bullshit.  I heard a scream.  I got out of there.  Now do me a favor
and leave.  I don't know what happened to you all and I don't want to
know."
   Leonard grabbed her by the arm before she could cross the street.  Kiera
turned and grabbed him by the throat, kicked him in the shin, and pulled
him to the cement.
   It happened so fast that she stood over his downed body stunned.  How?
   The forms ...  cthe dance she'd spent hours learning.
   Would Leonard know what she had done?
   Kiera ran for her house and locked the door behind her.
   The wards were strong.  He wouldn't get in unless she allowed it.  They
wouldn't find him.  She was safe.
   The house was dark, quiet.  She showered and found Xavier in her bed,
body relaxed, eyes closed.  She got into the bed, but when he did not stir,
she straddled him, leaned over his body, touching him as least as possible.
   Heat rose and brushed along her belly, breasts, between her open thighs.
Kiera closed her eyes and let her imagination run free, fancied a minor
daydream.  She could brush her body against his, just for a moment, know
him as a lover.
   What if he did this to her while she slept?  How would she feel about
that?
   Kiera got off him and took her place at his side, near him, but a
respectable distance away.  She couldn't do this another night.
   She pulled the covers back, but before she could get out the bed,
Xavier's vice grip pulled her back to him.  He wrapped another arm around
her.  "I want you back where you were."
   "Where I was?" Kiera turned to him.
   Xavier pulled her onto him, stretched her body out over his.
   "It certainly seems like you are attracted to me," she said as she
adjusted his erection, placing it along her belly.
   "You suspect I am not?"
   "Why would you?"
   He pulled her face down and kissed her, his hips arched and his hard on
rubbed between them.
   Kiera sat up, her moist folds connected with his hardness.  "Answer me."
   "Because I want you.  I have waited years to have you, and now I want
all I can get, all you will give."
   She leaned forward, sliding her pussy along his girth.  She slid against
him once, twice, then lay down.  She put a finger to his lips.
   "While I was out, walking, I thought about what you said.  David would
never call you on purpose, but he'd recognize your capabilities.  His
daughter was ill.  I had been staying there overnight.  He used the
leverage for you to heal her, didn't he?" She slid her finger away.
   "Yes.  Do you regret it?" He slid his hand along her thigh, soft,
entrancing.
   "I don't.  I'm glad you found me." She put her lips to his ear.  "We are
meant to be with each other.  I want to give my body to you, and as
payment, you may use me however you wish."
   "However?" Xavier grinned.  "You don't have to have an apprenticeship to
know how dangerous an offering like that can be."
   "I find it liberating."
   "I accept." Xavier kissed her on the cheek.
   The soreness was profound, her bones, her muscles, her mind.  That was a
dangerous, stupid thing to do.
   And yet, it was done.  She enjoyed every moment, every pleasure, every
decadence.
   She stirred and felt a finger over her lips.  Her eyes opened and her
heart raced.  She wasn't home.  He held her cradled in his arms.
   ***
   Kiera woke with Xavier's tongue lapping at her labia.  Her hips rocked
without conscious direction.  She looked at the hulking form between her
legs, her hips raised by the pillow under them, massive hands around her
thighs.
   She'd slept through all that?
   His eyes glowed with lust moment before he closed them again.  There
wasn't much in the way of a thought.  Kiera was so close to an orgasm that
all she wanted to do was feel.  Her thighs trembled, tensed, and the
familiar tingle traveled up her spine.
   "Fuck!" She whined and growled as his strong tongue dipped inside her.
She screamed and her head tossed from side to side as the orgasm rocked
her.
   She remained sprawled and limp when he rose.  How long would this dream
continue?
   He got back into bed and cupped her breast.  He didn't pull the pillow
from under her or reposition her in any way.  Her nipples surrendered to
his patient teasing, hardening under his thumbs.
   She reached between his legs and stroked him.  She smeared her palm with
his wetness and circled the exposed tip.  Kiera pushed against him and he
gave, moved until he lay on his back.  She guided him inside and rode him
in long, smooth strokes.
   Xavier moan sounded wistful, vulnerable when she expect smug,
gluttonous.
   Would that ever change?  Could she trust a Zorient to keep his word? 
She settled, taking him inside her until her thighs rested on his hips.
   He groaned, his hands rounded her ass and he held her close.  Was his
kind so arrested by lust as to sustain an illusion?  He flexed his hips,
thrust inside her, taking his time, holding onto her like they were lovers,
savoring each moment together.
   "Each time," Xavier's words were soft, low, "I think it will be the last
time.  One last taste, one last touch.  Maybe if I could get your lips
around my cock again, I could regain my sanity.  Each time," he growled, "I
want you more, even when I feel your doubt and fear."
   "I doubt, and I fear, but I also choose to trust you."
   Xavier put his hands around her throat.  "The same.  I give you the same
trust though I am consumed with the need to be inside you."
   He wasn't cutting off her air.  She could breath easily, but the gesture
flipped a switch in her.  Could he feel the warm gush between her legs? 
Did he feel the pound of her heart under his fingers?
   She got off him and tried to shake away the dizziness.  She got on her
hands and knees and looked back at him.  Xavier grinned as he rose to his
knees.  He pressed on her shoulders until her chest met the bed.  He took
her forearms and folded them behind her back and held onto them,
effectively cuffing her.
   In that moment the fear and doubts melted away.  She gave in, opened to
him, and the tension disappeared.
   The first few strokes established a rhythm and then she got what she
wanted.  The screaming had nothing to do with an orgasm.  It just felt
good, crazy, like being an a thrill ride.  The slap of his flesh to hers,
the jolt through her body each time he slid into her.
   When Kiera finally came, it hurt.  She was sloppy and wet and nearly
fainted.  Sweat rolled up her spine to her neck, the sheets under her were
damp, cold.
   "Good morning, my sorceress."
   "Morning, Xavier."
   "Don't move." He let go of her arms and pulled out of her.  "I'll clean
you up." His tongue probed her, lapped the swell of her labia.
   "You're going to do more than clean me up."
   He hummed in affirmation.
   It was so easy to forget he wasn't really a man, so easy to convince
herself this wasn't the more perverse of pleasures.
   Kiera gasped as his tongue moved to her anus, circled the ring of
muscles.
   It was a while before she could get fully rested between orgasms.  "Are
you trying to keep me weak?"
   "Hardly.  My actions make you stronger.  When they come for you, you
will have the endurance to stick to your will."
   "I like the way you teach strength straining."
   Xavier chuckled and kissed her.
   <->
Written: March 2010
   Contact: nysidra at hot mail dot co
  
Thrall