Bound by Love

Maybe the love potion could still help me. Theoretically, I knew that the magic would help the affected person understand their love object better, and that from understanding would bloom love. The feeling of affection would be overpowering in the first days, but then the magic would fade away. Any understanding gained while under the influence would remain and any love left would be genuine. I was already halfway to loving this girl, I decided, I may as well use the magic my mother had given me to my advantage.

"If you aren't thirsty, mind if I have your water?" I asked, figuring that understanding Ceri better would help me achieve my goal.

Ceri flushed and pushed the glass toward me, saying softly, "Not at all."

I gulped down half the glass and felt the power swirl through me. It came to me, suddenly, that Ceri's flush was one of guilty embarrassment. She felt bad for mistrusting me, even though she'd been right that I'd drugged her water. I felt the first tingles of love for the kind and caring girl in front of me on the heels of that insight.

"Actually, I am a bit thirsty," Ceri said, taking the glass of water and swallowing other half of it.

Well, that was certainly going to make my job easier, I thought happily. I watched as Ceri's pupils dilated and her expression softened. I wondered what she'd just realized about me, what new understanding fueled her love. I knew the potion would affect her more strongly than me, since she wasn't a witch. I wondered how strong the feeling of love she felt really was, and I wondered if that love would last. Right now, I hoped it would last forever.

"Will you marry me?" I asked, driven by my desire for Ceri and an overwhelming need to protect her from my mother's machinations. My mother had wanted this girl married to an ugly man, and I was going to give her exactly what she wanted.

"Of course," Ceri replied dreamily, wholly under the love potion's power.

We laughed together, drunk on endorphins. I reached across the table and took my fiancée's hand, feeling her soft, cool, skin in mine sent shivers through me. I examined her thin fingers and realized that she had ordered a salad, not because that was what she wanted or was worried about price, but because she was trying to maintain a certain appearance for her sister's videography. Well, now that she was mine, there would be no need for that anymore, I vowed. I'd simply give the sister enough money to satisfy her and free Ceri from that burden. I smiled, happy to be able to solve a problem for my love.

"What secret schemes of love does your smile hide, I wonder?" Ceri mused.

"Only sweet dreams for your happiness," I replied, knowing that Ceri didn't really want me to solve the riddle for her, she enjoyed the mystery.

My mother's love potions really were a wonder, even at half-strength.

(Ceri)

It seemed the most natural thing in the world to go straight from Denny's to the nearest store that sold rings, a Primark. We held hands as we made our way to the jewelry section. My ring finger was too small for all the stock rings and Dafydd's finger was too big.

In the end, he got a black silicone band, and I got a toy child's ring with a butterfly inlaid with plastic that was meant to look like gems. After checking out, Dafydd pulled me out of the way of the other shoppers and right there, in the middle of Primark, he knelt and took my hands in his.

"Ceri," he frowned, "What's your last name?"

"Moore," I supplied.

Dafydd grinned, "Ceri Moore, you are beauty free of vanity, innocence tempered by wisdom, faithful and kind. I can imagine nothing better in this world than spending my life in your service. Will you marry me?"

I looked down at Dafydd, the angle giving me a perfect view of the lonely long strands of hair scraped across his gleaming scalp. It seemed to me, in that moment, that his combover was an ironic statement, a giant middle finger to a world that valued beauty over substance.

My heart filling with love, I answered, "Dafydd..." I paused, uncertain

"Wynne," he supplied.

I smiled at him happily, "Dafydd Wynne, you are the calm in the eye of the storm. You are mysterious and patient and humble. I can think of no better way to spend my life than discovering more to love about you."

Dafydd slipped the ring on my finger, standing there next to the cash registers. Standing up, he kissed me gently. I longed to press my body into his, to feel his warmth envelope me, but he kept me at a distance. I would have felt hurt, but somehow, I understood that he wanted me close to him as much as I wanted it, but there was some other reason he couldn't allow it, a reason that frustrated him just as much as it did me.

I smiled, letting him keep his secret. All I needed was his love, and I had that. So, what did his little mysteries matter? They only made him more interesting.

Dafydd looked at his phone, "It's too late to go to the registrar office today. I guess we'll have to get officially married tomorrow, dearest heart."

"I guess, we'll have to wait, right?" I remembered my sister complaining of the near month-long wait required to get married in Wales.

"Well, we'll see about that tomorrow," Dafydd replied.

I frowned, "I don't want to be apart from you, even for a night."

"You don't have to be. Come and live with me," Dafydd said.

"Oh, how wonderful!" I exclaimed happily.

I had never felt so connected with another human being in my life. Some little niggling worry in the back of my head called for my attention, but I ignored it. Too soon! The worry said, but how could it be too soon to marry your soul mate? Where did these feelings come from? The worry said, but where did love ever come from? You've been drugged! The worry exclaimed, but if I had been, then surely so had Dafydd. And that was fine then, of course, because Dafydd knew exactly what he was doing, and I could trust him.

We stopped at Awen's house on our way home. I pulled Dafydd into the house behind me, not yet able to relinquish his hand. The few moments separation that was required to get out of the car was painful enough.

"You're finally back!" Awen exclaimed, hurrying towards the front of the house as she heard the door.

"We're getting married!" I said happily, waving my ring.

My sister's face drained of blood, "Married? Why?"

"We're in love, of course!" I laughed.

"You just met!" Awen screeched.

"Don't worry, sis. Dafydd will take care of me now. Your job is done," I smiled at her.

Awen's jaw dropped open, and she stared at me for ten long seconds before snapping, "And what about my YouTube channel? You can't abandon it!"

"No, it's fine," Dafydd cut in, "here, I can give you the money you need."

I watched with pride as my husband wrote a check and handed it to her. He was so generous, I sighed happily. Awen glanced at the check, then stared at Dafydd in shock.

"This is ridiculous," she hissed.

"It is quite genuine, if that's your concern," Dafydd assured her.

Awen glanced at me, guilt, fear, and relief warring on her face. And then, she stuffed the check in her pocket and bolted out of the room. She came back just as Dafydd, and I were about to leave for good.

"I googled you, and I guess you might be rich enough that this check is legit," Awen commented to Dafydd with wonder.

"It's important to my wife that you are ok, financially," Dafydd explained with a shrug. "Come on Ceri, let's have one last video for Awen's channel, a video of Ceri and her fiancé, saying goodbye to social media, forever!"

"Ok, sure," Awen acceded quickly, leading the way to the basement studio where we did most of the indoor videos.

Dafydd and I sat on the loveseat together, where I'd spent many afternoons talking about products my sister provided me, to try or to people she found, or playing with random animals she'd borrowed. She was always full of ideas for things I should do, and how I should do them. But today, this was my husband's idea, and I deferred to him alone.

"It would please me if you told your followers about your love for me, and your decision to get married and end your YouTube career," Dafydd suggested to me quietly. "But please, don't say my name, I don't want any jealous followers to track us down."

I beamed at him and nodded, ready to do anything he asked of me.

I stared into Awen's camera and spoke, "The most amazing thing happened! I can't wait to tell you all about it..."

(Dafydd)

Watching my fiancée talk animatedly about our short romance, I was again overwhelmed with love for her. The way she told the story it sounded as if weeks had passed in our courtship, and not a single day. She was giving my mother everything she'd wanted and freeing herself in the process. I couldn't have been more proud.

Throughout the announcement, I kept one of her hands in mine. My other arm was draped across her shoulders. I imagined we looked like a frumpier version of Danny DeVito and a more striking light-eyed twin of Bella Hadid, a completely mismatched couple. I hope it would satisfy my mother's aesthetic vision and she would soon forget about Ceri.

After completing the post that was designed to ruin Ceri in the eyes of her admirers, and save her from my mother, I took her home with me. All this time, I had been careful that she not touch me, other than my hands. My glamour of short, fat, and bald, was visual only. If she had reached out to touch my belly, she would have found nothing there, if she'd tried to tousle my stringy combover, she'd feel a thick head of hair instead.

I craved to feel her touch, though, and I knew she craved to feel mine. The tension built as we drove home, as we brought her bags inside, as I showed her every facet of her new home.

"Change anything you like to suit you, my love," I told her, "I'll get you a credit card tomorrow."

"The only thing I want to change right now, is out of these clothes, my husband," Ceri breathed, eyes full of desire.

"My love, I must ask of you to do something for me. Will you?" I said.

"Anything," she replied.

"You must never touch me, and when we are in bed, you must never look at me," I said gravely.

Ceri's painful sigh was reminiscent of when she'd decided to order a salad, it was filled with self-denial, "As you wish."

I yearned to pull her to me right then, to hug her body against mine and feel her flesh press into mine, but I couldn't. Not if I wanted to keep her safe from my mother. For that, she could never know how I really looked, who I really was.

So, instead of giving in to passion immediately, I led Ceri to my room and asked her to undress, shower, and lay in my bed. I took each of her slender wrists and tied them to the bed frame as she watched me, full of trust and curiosity. And then I slipped a soft sleeping mask over her eyes, blocking her vision from mine.

She bent her knees, feet sliding across the sheets, and rubbed her thighs together. I watched her, admiring the smooth unblemished lines of her young body. Her skin glowed golden in the rays of the sun that bounced through the windows, and her hair glistened like bronze. Her breasts were nearly flattened as she lay, just two dark wrinkled peaks marking her nipples. From there her waist narrowed, ribs showing lightly beneath her skin, then her hips flared out wider, pulling her thighs apart to leave the most welcoming gap for me.

For the first time in countless decades, I let my penis stir to life of its own accord, through genuine arousal and lust. Blood coursed through my ears, pounding like the waves that beat the beach just outside my home. I bent to worship my Ceri's perfect body, through careful, slow exploration of her with my fingers and tongue, millimeter by millimeter. I was prepared to spend all night learning her, and all of the next as well, and for as many nights as it took to know her body as well as I knew my own.

(Ceri)

In the darkness, I waited. Would my husband take me roughly? Or would he be gentle? Whatever he did, I knew it would be the right thing, because I could see the love in Dafydd's eyes, in the gentle touch of his hands, in his voice. Everything of me, I gave to him, however he wanted.

It began with a light touch on the sole of my foot. I twitched, but held still, gasping at the unexpected contact. A huff of air blew and tingled, revealing that the touch had been wet. He'd tasted me with his tongue, I realized.

A longer, more recognizable, lick followed, from my heel to my toes. I shivered and held my foot still, despite the urge to pull it away from the tickling tongue. Soft, strong, hands grabbed my ankle and held it still, teeth nipped at my pinky toe gently. I sucked in a breath of surprise with a mild squeal.

Dafydd's breath flowed over me cooling and warming my skin as he paused to lick, nibble, and kiss me. I was lost to the sensations dripped on my skin. Each touch causing me to alternately tense and relax, tremble and sigh. Dafydd didn't explore my body in any predictable path but darted from toes to hip to knee to elbow to fingers to breast to pelvis, without any sense of rhythm or consistency. Each new sensation was a surprise, pleasant but unexpected. Arousal built, swelling, peaking, falling, and rising again.

When I felt hands spread my thighs open, I expect the lash of tongue against my slit, as he'd done three times before. But this time, Dafydd pierced me. My vagina burned with the sudden intrusion, and then my fluids flooded, easing his thrusts. Strong hands held my knees firmly against my stomach, pinning me to the bed. I thought that if they were not so well restrained, I would hot have been able to resist wrapping my legs around Dafydd's hips and pull him to me, despite my promise to not touch. So, I was glad that my husband had taken so many precautions to help me keep my promise to him.

"I want to fill you with my child," Dafydd said huskily.

"Yes!" I agreed, overcome with feelings of joy and love and total surrender.

Completely forgotten in this moment was the little voice of worry pointing out I'd only just met Dafydd. This same day, just a few hours ago I'd met him, and already I yearned to have his child and bind myself to him forever through marriage.

With a last thrust, Dafydd stilled, and I felt as his shaft jerked inside me. His sperm felt warm and hot, and a tingle spread through me wherever it touched, kindling my own orgasm. I felt my muscles spasm, my cervix contracting in and out of my vagina collecting my lover's sperm and depositing it deeper inside. I sank into the bed with satisfaction, imagining the fertilization battle that might even now be waged in my womb.

Dafydd unbuckled the belts that he had used to bind my arms but left the sleeping mask in place. He gently lifted me and slid me to one side of the bed, then covered me with a soft comforter. I felt the bed dip as he climbed in on the other side. I longed to turn and caress him, to lay my head on him and feel his warm skin on my cheek, but I resisted the urge, remembering my promise.

It wasn't long before the real world dropped away, and dreams consumed me.

(Dafydd)

Filled with love for my sweet Ceri, I dreaded returning to work for my mother. The thought of making my cock perform for her sickened me as it never had before. Not even wanting to risk her hearing the love in my voice, I sent my mother a text telling her that I was taking vacation time. She'd be unhappy, which was always dangerous, but I just didn't care,

Instead of going to work, Ceri and I went to the registrar office and got married. The government official raised his eyebrows at our cheap rings but didn't comment. Which was good for him because I was feeling particularly protective of my new wife's feelings. I passed him a couple thousand pounds and a touch of compulsion, and he waived the waiting period. I didn't care what sort of forgery he had to do, I wanted Ceri bound to me.

The magic of the love potion thundered hard in my heart. I knew it was affecting me deeply, yet that did nothing to dull the love I felt for Ceri. It wasn't a love born of false perfection, which brought only a shallow kind of lust. No, my mother never did anything in half measures.

The rational part of me knew that this love could fade away, I just didn't think it would, though. So, that only left her love for me. This knowledge of limited time drove me into a sort of frenzy of devotion. I wanted to overwhelm Ceri with magic and romance so that as the potion faded, her heart would be filled with genuine love for me.

Thus motivated, I took her to a small local airport after we'd handled the paperwork. I had a 1956 Cessna 172 stored in a hangar there. I still remembered the day I'd bought it, brand new. The salesman had been just as impressed with the size of the check I'd handed over as my new sister-in-law had been.

Ceri laughed when she saw it, "Do you know how to fly that thing?"

"Of course, and after today, so will you."

"I can't fly a plane!"

"Sure, you can, it's not hard," I assured her.

I went through the pre-flight inspection, showing her what I was looking at and why. I paid one of the airport pilots to keep my plane maintained and fly it a bit if I hadn't been by in a while, so I wasn't concerned about safety.

Completing my examination, I helped Ceri into the front and climbed in beside her. Turning on the radio, I asked for clearance to take off as I navigated out of the hangar and onto the tarmac.

"When we're on the ground we use pedals to steer. You have them on your side too. You push the left to go left and the right to go right. Don't use the joystick, that's only for when we're in the air. This lever is the throttle and controls our speed, got it?"

Ceri looked around skeptically, "I guess."

"All right, see if you can get us down to that spot over there," I pointed to the turn that would take us onto the runway; this airport had only one.

Ceri bit her lip and concentrated on the task, gamely ready to try. I appreciated the heaving of her chest as she breathed carefully. I entertained a vision of finding some unpopular air space, fixing the joystick in place, and setting Ceri on my lap to fuck her as we flew.

I sighed, there were just a few problems with that fantasy. First, it would completely betray my lack of a belly if she sat on my lap. Second, it would unsafe, and I wouldn't risk my wife's mortal life that way. The fantasy was nice, though.

When we got to the runway, I took over. As we left the ground behind, Ceri gasped.

"I've never actually flown before," she admitted with quiet wonder.

"I'm glad I get to share your first flight, then."

I flew over the city, pointing out landmarks before going out over the ocean. While the water glistening under the sun was beautiful, I was after a much rarer sighting. I showed Ceri how to steer and maintain steady altitude (so simple a child could do it), while I scanned the water for the telltale spouts of water that would indicate my target.

The plane dipped and jerked as Ceri got used to the controls and then our flight smoothed out. I occasionally glanced at her, appreciating her ecstatic grin. After about an hour, I figured I wouldn't find what I was looking for and I took back the controls, heading for the airport. As I made a wide sweeping turn back to shore, I caught sight of a suspicious glint near the horizon.

Eagerly, I head towards it, full throttle. Ceri glanced at me, sensing my anticipation. I winked at her and kept going. As we swept over the ocean, I spotted what I'd been looking for.

"There!" I shouted triumphantly.

Ceri followed the line of my pointing finger and gasped, "Oh, wow!"

There, below us, was the torpedo shape of a whale. As we watched, it surfaced, blowing water out of its back. Ceri pressed her face to the window. Feeling quite proud of myself, I turned the plane, tipping her side so she could get a better view. She gasped, then laughed.