Some Ind of Spell

Angela woke up slowly with sensations she had never felt before. Her mind was still foggy with sleep, and yet on a sensory level her body was aware of movement, smells, sensations, and him. Pierre. Her Master. He was speaking softly and her mind had not yet translated the words for her. It sounded like a lot of noise and mumbling but on another level she knew he was speaking to her, intimately. Her limbs felt heavy as if she was not able to move them, and she was very reluctant to open her eyes, she simply wanted to float on the sensations she was feeling or at least have this dream, if that is what it was, continue.

Pierre knew from his close examination of her that she was likely quite tender in a few places. When she first fell asleep, he had applied special balm, salve to her slightly bruised and tender vagina to help heal and soothe away any pain she might feel. He had actually taken quite tender care of her, arousing her and bringing her to orgasm, even not knowing at first that she was a virgin. Aftercare was very important to do for a submissive. This too, was part of his responsibilities to her as her Master.

His mind still could not take in her innocence. He had assumed she was more of the world, than she was. But now that he knew, he would take more caution with his handling of her. She was so smart, brave, beautiful and had been through so much. He was sure there was more to her story than he knew and he was going to make it his mission in life to know everything he could about her. She was going to fight and him, of that he was sure. She had a lot of spirit and spunk. While he admired that in her, it also made him remember what she had been through and what was ahead. He was still getting information and reports. Each one showing him more of her past and what she had already seen and experienced. A sobering thought.

He had plugged in his cell phone to recharge it. Emails and messages kept coming in from various sources. Her phone was still put away. No new messages had come in.

While she was still sleeping he watched her. His eyes taking in every detail. He wanted her again, and his mind and body reacted strongly to the sight, touch and scent of her. Many hours passed and then the idea of how to wake her came to him and he slipped out of the bed, grabbed four lengths of soft, nylon cording rope and affixed each one to the bed's 4 different posts. Then he slipped them one at a time around each of her wrists and ankles. Snug but not tight, and slowly pulled her legs and arms open as she slept. It was well after sunrise before she began to show signs of waking.

With this done, he began a very slow journey of exploration starting at her dainty toes. He sucked on each one, watching her reaction, then licked and kissed and sucked his way up her legs, particularly paying attention to her inner thighs and moving between her legs as he worked his way up. He let his fingers begin a gentle probing, opening her soft sex, and putting his finger on her clit, keeping her love petal lips open, he then began to lick and probe her inner folds, deeper with his long agile tongue. Her taste was addictive.

He murmured sweet words to her, calling her his delicate rose, his rare lovely gem, "ma petite" and many other endearments mostly in French as his seduction of her continued. He was extremely thorough.

She began to moan, move, and show him that his actions were both pleasurable and wanted. Her hips began to thrust up and move side to side slowly as his tongue and fingers worked their erotic magic on her. She tossed her head, her nipples now pert, hardened little jewels of flesh, puckered and rosy waiting for his attention. He let his tongue then move to her clit as one finger then probed inside her slick hot sheath. She was already wet and dripping juices. She bucked upwards pushing her pussy up and moaned. He continued to tempt, tease, entice and arouse her. He sucked her clit slowly into his mouth, enjoying the reactions she expressed. She groaned and whimpered clearly very aroused, the sensations rising in her body. Her movements became more frantic and now she spoke and begged him to continue.

"Call me by my title and name, ma petite. Who am I?"

"Master, ....... my....... Master." She replied in breathy halting speech.

"Yes, my girl. I am your Master. What do you want? Tell me."

"I want ..... you to help..... I want you to take me... take me as you did last night.... I want that tidal wave..... again" she whimpered and bucked and writhed. She did not even complain about being bound at the wrists and ankles. He was pleased.

As he continued to probe and arouse he asked her "Whose pussy is this ma petite?"

"Yours,....... Its Yours Master."

"Louder my rose bud, whose pussy is this?"

"YOURS MASTER!" she shouted now. "Please, Master ....please, take me. Fuck me! I beg you please."

"All in good time, ma petite. All in good time." And he pushed another finger into her wet heat, curving his fingers upward and rubbing her G-spot with each thrusting movement of his fingers. She was soaking wet now. Juices dripping and seeping out all over her lips, his mouth and fingers and to the bedding below. He didn't care. Soon her body orgasmed, hard, and long, she was screaming out for him. His shaft was so hard and throbbing he could barely contain himself. Watching her, tasting her, feeling her orgasm and then hearing her was his undoing. He had to have her now.

"MASTTTEEEEERRRRRRRR! Oh God........Oh God!"

He reached out and snatched a condom from the bedside stand where they were stock piled and quickly tore it open, sheathing himself in it. He did that with quick practiced movements and returned to stimulating and kissing her.

She kept cuming, one orgasm and then another orgasm and finally he pushed up, positioned his cock at her entrance rubbed her juices on the tip and length and thrust in with it, his cock replacing his fingers movements. He sucked one of her beautiful ripe nipples into his mouth and kept sucking it as he fucked her. His lust was so intense he could not stop had he wanted to. He took her body, then moved his mouth upwards in hungry erotic kisses to her mouth where he took her mouth passionately and with deep need. With his shaft plunging in deep and hard each time, she moaned and screamed and begged for more. The beads of sweat formed on his skin as he plundered and took and made her scream for more.

He thrust in fast and hard, setting a pace to make them both cum, her for another and him for one hard and long one that drained them both of all their energy. At least temporarily. They were both drenched in sweat and fluids from their sexual exploit, the scent of their sex filling the air around them. The air was heavy with it. He found it deeply intoxicating and he wanted her again.

He moved her slightly, unbinding her wrists and ankles and rubbing them gently. She immediately curved her body into his as he tucked and pulled her into his body entwining his legs with hers as he turned her to face him, both on their sides now and pulled her tight against him. He never wanted to let her go. His fierce gleam of ownership and possessiveness showed on his face, in his eyes and by his body language. He had never felt quite this way about any other woman. She drew out his protective nature and the drive to claim her and convince her that she was indeed, his. All his and his alone.

"Mine." he whispered fiercely into her ear.

"Yours." she whispered as she began to drift and float. Her body still throbbed intensely yet she was drained and felt the need to sleep again.

She closed her eyes... her breathing still harsh and labored as if she had run a long distance.

"Sleep, ma petite. You are safe in my arms." Pierre's soothing tone and words assured her, her breathing slowed, became steady and she promptly dropped off to sleep as did he shortly after.

Two hours later there was a soft knocking sound on their door. It was Zac letting Pierre know that food was being prepared and was to be delivered in about 10 minutes. As much as he hated to do it, Pierre woke Angela. He wrapped her up, bundled her into the bathroom and cleaned her using a soft sponge, with liquid soap smelling of honeysuckle. Pierre soaped it up well, then helped clean her gently with it also assisting her with washing her hair. He then focused on himself using a different liquid soap with a musky outdoorsy, male scent, scrubbing and washing himself as well. Then they both toweled off and hastily dressed in robes that had been hung inside the bathroom for their convenience, sometime in the night by either Zac or a staff member.

The food was arriving just as they both walked back to the bedroom. She had insisted on walking by herself though Pierre really wanted to lift and carry her.

She protested "I am not a bag of potatoes to be carried. Nor am I a piece of delicate china that will break so easily. I can walk all by myself. I have been doing this many years now and I can manage the trip to the bedroom, thank you very much!" she said with spunk and a saucy tone in her voice.

"Watch yourself ma petite." Her reminded her. "You are mine. And if I want to carry you I shall. Remember that." And he swatted her bottom firmly with his hand as he spoke.

She yelped. "Ouch!" when she felt the sting of his hand through the robe. She turned as if she was going to protest, and he simply grabbed her in his arms and kissed her hard and deeply. She could not speak but yielded to his lips. Her body became pliant in his arms. His mouth ravishing hers completely. "What do you say to me when I give you a command" he asked her now as he gazed down into her bemused face.

"Yes, Master." She said softly. There was temporarily no more fight in her. She was under his spell at that moment. His kiss had opened a door again and she was slightly aroused judging by her ripe puckered nipples he could see poking at the thin robe's fabric, her musky scent and her eyes that were also dilated. He turned her then and with his hand cupping her elbow he led her without further protest to their shared bedroom where they dined on poached deviled eggs, smoked salmon on toast and fresh orange juice and hot coffee. There were also large glasses of water there for them both. Angela was so hungry her stomach had been growling. Now she ate and drank with a real appetite.

Pierre finished his food and then watched her eat. It seemed everything she did was something he didn't want to miss. When they finished eating he used his cell phone to make a call as she went to find her backpack pulling out clothing to dress. He ordered some specific things for later and then put in a call to his mother and reassured her he was fine and not to worry though he knew she always did. After his father had died two years before, she was much more prone to anxiety and bouts of depression so he tried not to be away too long but even that seemed better lately. Perhaps it was because she sensed things in his life were changing. She had no idea how much.

Pierre was finally ready to settle down. He had worked hard since he was 17 to help his father build their business and it had paid off but at a huge cost. He had a great childhood but as soon as his father saw his natural talent for leadership and managing money, he had pushed Pierre to work harder and directed him into business school and groomed him to join the family firm.

He had sent Pierre abroad, made sure he spent time in France, Italy, Greece, Germany, Australia, Canada, South America, Los Angeles, California and New York in the US. Pierre was pushed to learn languages and he did; Spanish, English, German, French (his native tongue) Italian, Chinese and Russian. They had been incredibly lucky and had invested in some very lucrative businesses and properties. It seemed that Pierre's genius was more than luck. He studied trends and could accurately predict the markets. That helped their family become wealthy. But Pierre was more than a rich man. He had a social conscience and did many things that helped communities with people who were far less fortunate, funding a dozen grants and full tuition scholarships in their area. He helped rebuild communities and make them a safer place. This did not allow him time to have personal relationships. At least not the kind that would grow and become anything more than social event companions.

This woman, this small but strong feminine creature stirred his loins and filled him with a strange over powering hunger to have her close. He wanted her to trust him, lean on him, let him take care of her. That first moment they met in the coffee shop, she had pretended not to notice him at all, and ever since then, she started turning him down for a date and acting like he was not interesting or attractive to her he just wanted her all the more for it. She was such a fraud. All that mock indifference drove him crazy.

Then they finally met for a meal... and kissed. That kiss almost knocked him off his feet! He trembled himself so aroused and so turned on he could barely think or speak. That was when he knew, that was when he sensed, she would become his woman, his obsession, his addiction. He did not want to admit it, but deep inside he knew. Her deep green eyes had pulled him in and he had become lost in her gaze. It was as they say, "Kismet." Who was he to fight fate? Not he, not when the prize was this beauty he had spent hours making love to. She was just quirky enough to be interesting, intelligent enough to hold his attention and spunky and strong enough to make him sit up and take note. She would never be "easy" but then if she was, he would not feel as he did in this moment.

Just then, Angela stood up and walked to him. She stood there silently watching him. Her eyes so green they looked like emerald gems and the sun coming through the one window in the room filtered through just right, highlighting her thick gorgeous red hair making it appear she had a sunshine halo over her head. He took her hand, and pulled her onto his lap, just to hold her. He watched her intently, seeing she did the same. Then with one hand he pushed her hair back and pulled her face to his, kissing her lips softly at first in exploration.

She resisted but only for a moment, then yielded and began to kiss him back, both of them seeking and exploring each others lips, and faces with kisses and touches. He was very aware of what this was doing to his body and judging from her scent and movements, it was doing the same thing to her. He wanted to take her back to bed right then. However, there were pressing things they needed to do and he was not going to allow things to get out of hand, yet.

"Ma petite, you need to hear me. Focus. Listen." He pushed her upright again and held her face in his hands, close but not too close to his own face. She whimpered in protest but his look told her to obey, so she did.

"We need to change your appearance. I want to have you dye your hair although to change such lovely hair is a crime. Perhaps a wig, or several wigs might suffice." He thought about that a second and nodded. "And you need clothing for this new role you are playing until the trial. We will leave in 20 minutes. We are headed to the next big city and it's just a little over a two hour drive. Get ready and when its time to go, we will be chauffeured by my regular driver who has just arrived."

Angela took in every word, she focused and allowed him to dictate what she would be doing. She realized there was wisdom in it and so her agreement and cooperation came easily. That was until she saw the clothing he wanted her to wear. Then her feelings and her actions showed him exactly what she thought of his wardrobe suggestions.

"There is very little left to the imagination in that ...... thing. My body is not even decently covered!" she protested some hours later when they were at an "adult clothing" specialty store. "I am not going to wear that, ever!"

She looked around the shop. She observed that there were all kinds of strip gear, leather, sexy almost non existent costumes, feminine lingerie made to make a man drool, feather boas, high heels so high she thought she might fall to her death the moment she tried to walk on them, garters and many types of hosiery and stockings, and skimpy panties and bras so sparse the cloth barely covered her nipples and pussy, the panties being "thongs" that showed fully her butt cheeks.

There was also ample "play gear" such as floggers, dildos, erotic clit stimulators, full sized vibrators and almost everything ever made for good times in a dungeon many would say.

She stood there looking at Pierre defiantly. He simply walked to a display case, took out a nice soft leather flogger and walked back to her, swatting her backside with it, which was bare, her butt cheeks fully exposed in the thong she had on, and told her "Oh yes, Rosa, you will wear it. I order you to obey me. I am Master, and if I tell you wear it, you shall, make no mistake." He had done this so quickly she had not even realized his intent to swat her until after he had done it!

He was much taller than her petite height of five feet 4 inches. He was well over six feet. He used this height difference to his advantage and looked at her with those eyes so steely blue all of a sudden. She pushed her chin out and stood there all determined looking. She was ready for a fight. He could see it in her eyes. While he admired her spunk and her determination, he was going to bend her to his will. He did not however want this to turn into a public confrontation. There was too much at stake. So he gently drew her close and kissed her very thoroughly, molding her body to him as he felt her resistance fade and her body become pliant.

"Ma petite" he whispered finally. "Do you trust me? Do you realize I want to protect you and keep you safe?" He lifted her face to him and waited for her to open her eyes. They were slightly dilated and glazed looking. She was definitely not indifferent to him. This was good.

She nodded and whispered back "Yes, I trust you" and she reluctantly added, "And I believe you want to keep me safe." A sigh whispered from her lips and she knew in that moment, he had won.

"Then ma petite, please cooperate and play your part. I know this is all foreign to you but its now the only way I can see to keep you safe. I never want to see you hurt again."

She looked at him then with a question in her eyes, but before she could ask, he bustled her off to the changing room and handed her a dozen more things to try on and model for him.

For the next few hours, they shopped for wardrobe, toys, play gear, wigs and make up. Pierre spent a small fortune, she knew because she saw price tags and was overwhelmed at the lengths he was willing to go to keep her "hidden in plain sight" so to speak. He payed to have everything delivered that they could not carry in the car and then finally he took her to eat wearing her new "look." She felt bizarrely like a movie star playing a part. This role would either make or break her literally as failure could mean her death. Throughout their meal he spoke to her in low tones, instructing her, answering her questions and giving her new things to think about. She now had blonde short bobbed hair, long black eyelashes, plenty of make up to contour and change even the shape of her eye, and contact lenses that were hazel in color. She did not even resemble her real self. It was pretty amazing when she went to the lady's rest room and glanced in the mirror. She did not even recognize herself!

She had become transformed and in that moment had another feeling of déjà vu. The hours ahead were demanding in many ways but this moment had her gaze at the mirrored image and find there was something about it that drew her, fascinated her and compelled her to want to please this man, Pierre whom she now called "Master."