Then his eye fell on the mirror, and he jumped up and seem to panic. A string of flowing words came out of him, and realizing I couldn't understand them he gestured that I should wrap the mirror up in cloth and put it away face down. I quickly fetched some fabric, but that was clearly not good enough.
He pointed at several objects in the room, but it took me a while to deduce that the cloth needed to be black. So I checked my clothes and found a black skirt, which I used to wrap the mirror in, and I put it away face down in the farthest corner.
Now he sat down and ate, carefully, apparently knowing he'd be sick if he ate too much or too fast. All too soon he stopped, gesturing he shouldn't eat more. I put the stuff on the cupboard, available to him at all times. He needed to eat small meals often to get used to food again. I also put out some clean
water and a glass, of which he made good use.
Then I pointed at his back, and went into the kitchen to fetch a bowl of water and a clean cloth. With it, I carefully cleaned out the welts, sorry for the grimace of pain my treatment caused him. He had some cuts on his head as well, which I also cleaned carefully. When I was done I gave him an old shirt to wear, much too large but nice and warm, and it would protect the welts from getting dirty.
Now his three main needs were met, I showed him the sanitary facilities, which he gladly used right in front of me. It was clear he had no body modesty at all, something I was going to get used to really quickly, though I didn't know that yet. Now I looked at him questioningly to see what else he might want, and he looked so forlorn, so emaciated, abused and well, lonely, I decided to take him to bed with me.
I went to the bedroom, pointed at the bed and got in, covering myself with the blanket. With a look to make sure I approved, he crawled in beside me, snuggled up to me with his whole body and wrapped his skinny arms around me. He clearly enjoyed the feel of my soft warm body very much. And to be honest, I felt really good as well, feeling him relax against me, giving in to his weariness and falling into a deep, deep sleep at my side.
I started to realize that Paul had known this would happen as soon as he saw the work of art, and that this might be part of one of those tests he mentioned.
Well, I was not going to put a helpless creature out in the state this guy was in. It was clear he was a thinking, feeling being, and I was going to help him either to go home or to find a place in our world. And with that thought I fell asleep myself, and this time I didn't dream.
The next morning, it was already light outside, I woke up disoriented. Did that really happen, did I really find a goat-like man behind my hearth, or was it a weird dream? Feeling arms still around me, and a body pressed close to mine, smelling his musky scent, I realized it was all real.
And I felt something else, and though still a virgin I immediately understood what it meant: Lukas was carefully trying to penetrate me with his rather large penis, and he was almost successful! To be honest, it felt very exciting, a hotness sprang up between my legs and all my nerves screamed to let him continue.
But I was also a virgin and my own person, and no-one was going to deflower me so casually, without even asking my consent. So I turned on him
in an instant, shouting: 'Just what do you think you're doing!' right in his face, still set in a blissful sleepy expression. I saw him wake up, register my sudden move, my intense anger.
And then I saw him cringe as if I'd hit him, and he rolled out of the bed and under it in an instant, the instinctive reaction of someone used to maltreatment. Though I felt justified in my reaction, I was also sorry to have scared him so badly that he fled, he was very sleepy after all, and had clearly been abused. For a moment I didn't know what to do.
But the thought of that vulnerable, maltreated young creature shaking in fear under my bed just wrung my heart. So I got out, sat down on the floor and looked under the bed. He was there, curled up in protective ball, a pitiful sight, his back towards me. I noticed he had a cute perky tail.
Soothingly I said: 'Lukas, I'm sorry I reacted so strongly, I've just never done that before, I'm still a virgin. In my culture you can't just insert yourself into a woman, you have to ask first. Please Lukas, stop shaking, come to me.' Those words seemed to have a magical effect again, for within a second he was in my lap again, curled up, head on my shoulder.
'Lukas, look at me' I said. And he did, his anxiety still clear in every feature of his face, looking at me in desperation. 'You have no idea what made me mad, do you?' I asked him. He understood from my soothing tone I was not really angry anymore, but how to make it clear that I was not an object, to be used at will?
Of course he must have had an idea what made me mad, he was obviously an intelligent man. He now looked at me questioningly, and said something in a beautiful language that I didn't understand a single word of. But it sounded apologetic, which was good. We had to rely on gesturing again to communicate. I tried to gesture that he had to ask before he did that. And it seemed he understood.
Apparently his need was enormous, for where a man would have taken my actions as an absolute refusal, he proceeded to gesture his request to me, to be allowed to make love to me. Or maybe he just wanted to penetrate me, I couldn't know, the gestures weren't that specific, and I certainly had no experience with lovemaking, I was a virgin after all.
His need must have been very great to go from shivering in fear to politely asking if he could take me within a few minutes. I remembered Paul's comment on the randiness of goats, and decided he probably needed sex as
we need food. And the strange thing was, I wanted him to do it. I was twenty years old and I had never had a man, and it felt so good, and so careful when he tried. Besides, Paul had made it clear that was not going to risk getting involved for some time yet. So I gestured my consent, and we sat back on the bed.
I tried to convey that I had never done this before, and I think he understood for he became even more loving and more careful. It never occurred to me that our wordless communication was too perfect, too easy to be just gestures. But that is something I would find out later. For now, I let a total stranger with horns give me my first experience with lovemaking.
He did immediately penetrate me, but really carefully so it wouldn't hurt me.
And it didn't, it was glorious! I became so hot inside, it felt so good I wanted him to move, to thrust deeper and deeper inside me, moving along with him to stimulate him. The musk of his scent enveloped me totally, adding to the experience. He clearly enjoyed my enthusiasm, kissing me on the mouth, also my first time.
My passion rose still further, and after what seemed a long time of increasing elation I felt a wave of little shocks taking over my body, a blissful release.
Suddenly they were gone, but the heat wasn't gone at all, I wanted this to last forever.
Realising again how frightfully thin my lover was, I was suddenly afraid this exercise would be too much for him, but instead of draining him it seemed to give him energy. All this time, he had been keeping contact with me, with a look, a kiss, but now his thrusting increased, and his expression became focussed inward.
It was glorious how he managed to reach some nearly electric places inside me, and I had one of those high points again. Then he collapsed on top of me, which scared me at first. But when I saw him smile at me cheekily I realized this was supposed to happen. His shape on top of me felt good, though I couldn't help wondering how someone so emaciated could have so much energy.
I enclosed him in my arms, wanting to to stay connected, touching him wherever I could. For a few moments, he was lying still, happy but totally out of breath. Then he looked up at me again, his cute face already familiar, even with the horns.
Having no experience with making love, I was not surprised that as soon as he had caught his breath again, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, then moved down to kneel between my legs. He made a bit more space for himself by spreading them with his hands, a very exciting gesture in itself.
Then he c
aressed my ruddy pubic hair and carefully took hold of my labia, then spread them as well.
This flared up the heat in me again, and I wanted him to do everything all over again, but he had other plans. Instead of entering me, he applied a very nimble tongue to a very sensitive spot, which was even more stimulating than anything he had done before. Taking his time, he brought me to another of those highs, but this one felt different, lingering. As soon as he had felt me reaching that high, he was on top of me again in a second, penetrating me but not at all carefully this time.
The combination of that climax with this relatively forceful entrance was ecstatic. He kept me in a constant state of passion now, again pumping away but less frantically, and with more force. I couldn't imagine how a man could keep a woman in such a state of ecstasy for what seemed to be such a long time.
He looked as if he was the same passionate state, still moving slowly and deeply, constantly watching me, talking to me with his eyes and his facial expression. When he started to show signs of rising tension again, I invited him to kiss me again, and doubly connected he reached another high, with me sharing his intense feeling through our kiss. This time, he really was spent, again collapsing on top of me and staying in my arms for a long time. I was totally relaxed by now, feeling a strong bond with the strange creature heaving on my chest, totally enveloped by my arms.
He was nearly asleep, no longer out of breath, looking almost like a child with his rakish narrow face. I stroked his hairless head, and his body with its mottled skin. He had removed the shirt at some point, so I pulled the blanket over both of us to prevent him from getting cold.
The welts on his back were no longer sticky, so I had good hope they had closed up during the night. Instead of thinking about the weirdness of all this, I let myself drift off to sleep again too until I realized I had an appointment for magic instruction from Paul at eleven. And then it struck me. This is what he had been afraid of all along.
He knew what would come out of that mirror, and he knew what it would do
to or with me. I felt a flash of guilt and loathed myself for forgetting about him so easily, after dreaming of him for weeks, and holding him so intensely only the previous night.
But when I thought of his curly hair, of his muscled body and his exciting smell, I immediately saw myself doing the things I had discovered today with him. It was confusing and encouraging at the same time. I did still love him, wanted to try out lovemaking with him as well. But what if he would stick to his plan of waiting until I had mastered magic, he seemed someone who'd do that once his mind was made up.
Having discovered physical love I knew I'd want more soon, and I realized it was almost inevitable that Lukas and I would become lovers, but what would that do to Paul? I couldn't find a solution, so I decided to see what happened.
Chapter 4
I carefully eased myself from under Lukas, washed, dressed and prepared a nice suitable breakfast for a starving young man. Then I woke him by softly caressing him again, noticing to my incredible surprise that he had hoofs instead of feet. How come I hadn't seen that before? I took hold of one and carefully examined it.
It was elegantly shaped, of solid horn, but slightly too long. It needed trimming, small wonder with his other signs of neglect and abuse. I wondered where he had come from, and why he had been treated so badly there. It would be long before we could communicate well enough to find out. But by now my creature had woken up, and the smell of food clearly enticed him.
I gave him the t-shirt back, and he put it on. He ate more than the evening before, but he was clearly still limiting his intake to prevent getting sick.
Apparently not used to drinking hot black tea, he carefully sipped his and seemed to like it. I checked the clock and found I had an hour left until my lesson and facing Paul after what I'd done.
Strangely enough, I didn't feel ashamed, somehow I realized that what I had done with Lukas was a natural consequence of having bought the mirror. I didn't think I could have refused to have sex with Lukas, I was starting to comprehend it was as necessary as food to him. I also suspected he would just as easily have sex with another woman, also without asking first.
Maybe my test would be to teach him about the morals of our society, and finding a way to fit him into our society, though I doubted that would ever be possible. He was so different, how could one disguise a pair of horns that size, let alone hoofs and a tail?
Having finished his food, Lukas was still sipping his tea and he was looking at me. He didn't look forlorn anymore, maybe a bit of food and a bit of love was all he needed. But somehow I doubted that, he seemed too intelligent to live a life as simple as that.
Now I needed to find out what I was supposed to do with him. And I needed to explain to him that I was going away for an hour or two. For that, I needed
to be able to communicate with him, which wouldn't be easy.
But it turned out to be a lot easier than I thought it would be. As I had to leave him soon, I started with pointing at myself, then at the door, and at him, still where he was. At the same time, I told him in simple English. As he answered in his own flowing language, in my mind I got a clear reply: I was going away for a while, and he could stay here. And he was sorry he had tried make love with me still half asleep. And for not realizing I was still a virgin.
And love was indeed food to him, and he had been starved from it on purpose by someone, partly explaining the abominable condition his body was in. He felt much better now, and very grateful for the incredible gift of my pureness.
All right, this was weird. He spoke his own flowing language, but the meaning of his words came straight into my mind. So I said: 'You make me wish I didn't have to leave you, there is so much to speak of. But we can do that when I'm back. I'm still a bit disconcerted that you would have taken me without asking, but you sure made up for it, I still feel you inside me.'
He came towards me and knelt before me, laying his horned head in my lap, as if asking for forgiveness. This was such an engaging gesture that I couldn't resist him, I stroked his head, hoping he'd look up and kiss me. And he promptly did, sitting on my lap with his bare legs, his member still hanging free. The burning feeling inside me intensified, and I felt his excitement against me quite clearly, but I was not going to let Paul down on day one of my training already.
So I told him: 'You can eat as much of the food as you like, I'll get new stuff this afternoon. Let me know what you need to eat to gain strength. Do you want a pair of trousers?
His answer came swiftly: 'I will eat some more, and sleep some more. If you want me to wear clothes I will. And my hoofs need trimming, maybe you can get a tool somewhere? A file or a sharp knife?' I nodded, certain I could borrow both from Paul.
I had decided to be totally honest with Paul, I was going to need his help to see this through, and I wanted to be able to look him in the eye always, to be worthy of his love and respect. With this thought, I gave my mottled creature one last, lengthy hug, feeling his bony frame against mine, smelling his strong, musky scent. Then I told him: 'I'll be downstairs,' and I left.
Walking down the stairs I felt totally unsure what to do. In desperation, I decided to just go in and see what happened. I had some questions I would
love to ask Paul, but I'd have a lot to explain first, things he might not want to hear.
Reaching his door, I knocked on it quite loudly since he might be in his kitchen. But there was no answer. I considered using the key to open the door, but before I could act I heard his voice from downstairs, calling me:
'Melissa, I'm in the workshop, will you join me here?'
So I descended two more stairs and entered the basement. Paul was in his working clothes, polishing one of his current projects, nearly completed. It was a lovely elegant copper boiler, richly engraved with hunting scenes.
I had seen its development in the time I lived here, and it was amazing to see it now in its full glory. Paul was clearly very proud of it, and gl
ad to show it to me.
Let me picture his workshop, to me it was the best place to be on this world, even above my own apartment. It occupied the whole basement, one large space with stone columns to support the house above it.
The walls were red brick, and there were sturdy wooden cabinets against most of them. One really large cabinet held little drawers, to store his smaller tools and his spare parts. The larger tools were suspended on hooks on the wall, each in its own place.
There was a large brick furnace, built against the outer wall to allow easy venting. And there were creations in different stages of completion everywhere, on tables, on the ground, hanging from the ceiling, standing against the columns.
In this little corner of paradise Paul was totally himself. I fell in love with him all over again, seeing him in his sooty shirt, his old shabby pants and his leather apron covering both. He wore the same sturdy boots as yesterday, but an older, worn pair.
I couldn't help myself, I just had to stride towards him and give him a solid hug and a kiss on the mouth. I secretly breathed in deeply, catching the usual mixture of smoke, etching fluid and male sweat. It was just as exciting as ever. Paul returned my hug, and accepted my kiss in good grace.
He proudly listened to me praising his handiwork, then said confidentially: 'I thought you might prefer meeting me here.' I replied: 'I love this place, I'd like to stay here forever. Your house is beautiful, but it takes some getting used to. This is home.'
He clearly understood, and said: 'You will get used to it, and wait 'till you see
the bedroom!' I laughed at him: 'Is that an invitation?' At this cheeky remark, he looked at me appraisingly and said: 'In time, who knows....? What happened? You're different.'
Mirror Bound Page 3