Enter of Your Own Free Will

"Then watch this," I say, and I gesture theatrically towards the fireplace. The flames instantly roar into life.

"Woah!" she cries, leaping off the sofa and rushing to kneel by the fire. She leans over and examines it carefully, being somewhat less careful about the hem of her dress. As she tries to comprehend the trick, I try to apprehend what lies beneath the triangle of red material that is visible below her smooth, pale buttocks.

"It's not a gas fire, is it?" she says.

"No, it is just a normal wood fire."

"So how did you ... shit, that's so cool! How did you do it?!"

"Do you not enjoy performing tricks on All Hallow's Eve?"

She laughs and turns around to face me. "Well, yeah, sometimes, but I didn't see this one in Poundland! Are you a magician?"

"I have many skills," I reply modestly.

"Show me another trick", she says enthusiastically.

"What kind of trick would you like to see?"

"Anything, surprise me!" she says, smiling.

"You wish to be surprised? I can certainly oblige you with that," I say, and I stand and walk over to the fire, sitting down beside her on the rug.

"Turn to me," I say.

She turns away from the fire, her thighs opening as she steps around with her knees. The scarlet triangle of her thong appears again, wider where it spans upwards over her pubis. Her knees come together again but she leaves her dress ridden up, so the red is still visible. She glances up at me quickly, to ensure that I have noticed.

"Now, what did you say about my eyes?" I ask.

She looks into them, deeply.

"They're just gorgeous. They're so blue, and so deep, and I can see ... lightning ..."

Her eyelids flutter for a second like a candle in the wind.

"You will do everything I tell you to, without question," I tell her.

"I will do everything you tell me to, without question."

"Pull the strap of your dress down."

Her eyes remain fixed to mine as she shrugs the strap off her shoulder, leaving the dress held up only by her bosom. I can see the edge of her brassiere where the fabric has folded over. It is a modern strapless type, and the material does seem to match the red between her legs.

"Good. Now pull your dress down to your waist."

She pulls her ribboned arm out of the strap, and then she grips the sides of her dress and pulls downwards, slowly sliding it over her breasts and allowing the material to fall into a puddle in her lap. I glance down, admiring her navel, which shows a hint of musculature beneath her receding puppy fat.

"Now reach back and unfasten your bra."

She does as I tell her without hesitation, and the brassiere falls away, revealing her pale breasts to my hungry gaze. They are young and pert, and hold themselves afloat against gravity even without the assistance of the underwire. Her brown aureole contrast sharply against her white skin. I cannot resist reaching out and touching them for a moment. She gasps as my fingertips graze her bare flesh, her eyes looking down at my fingers calmly as I gently stroke them across her nipple.

"Now pull your dress back up," I command.

She straps the dress over her shoulder once more, stretching it around her breasts and then running her fingers inside the edges to increase her comfort.

I pick the brassiere up and examine it. It looks quite expensive: it is modern machine-produced lace, of course, but it is not the cheapest item on sale by any means. I throw it onto the fire, where it burns down to the metal in less than a minute. She watches the flames consume it, without any reaction to the loss.

"Now, look into my eyes once more," I say.

She does so, and her face is completely relaxed for a moment. Then, a look of sudden puzzlement crosses it. Her hands fly to her breasts.

"Where's my ... did you ... oh my God!" she squeals in delight.

"What is wrong?" I ask, feigning innocence, and ignoring her blasphemy once more.

She grins at me excitedly. "How on Earth did you do that?!"

"I am sorry, I have no idea what you are talking about."

"My bra!"

"Are you wearing a bra? I cannot see any bra straps. Girls your age usually show bra straps, do they not?"

"It's a strapless bra, so ... well, no, I'm not wearing a bra, that's the point!"

"Should a girl your age not be wearing a bra? Is this not the normal standard of decency?" I ask, teasing her.

"I was wearing a bra! You made it disappear!"

"Oh, I think you will find that I did nothing at all," I say, modestly, but truthfully.

A look of worry suddenly crosses her face. She stands up slowly, pulling her dress down carefully so she doesn't display her thong to me. At least, not any more than she has done already.

"Well, look, I guess I'd better be going. Thanks for the hot chocolate and everything. It's been fun."

I stand before she does, like a perfect gentleman.

"Is there anything wrong?" I ask, taking her hand so she can rise more easily.

She smiles lopsidedly. "Well look, no offence mister, but if you can make my bra vanish what's to stop you making my panties vanish too? I'm really not that kind of girl."

She is not stupid, but she is inexperienced.

"You would like me to make the rest of your underwear vanish too?" I ask slyly.

"No!" she giggles.

"But the thought has crossed your mind?"

She smirks at me. "Well, maybe it has, but only because I thought you might do it without asking, and then ... take advantage of the situation," she says.

"I am not that kind of magician," I say.

"I'm not saying you are, it's just ..."

"It is just that you do not trust me," I say sadly.

She looks up into my eyes again. Deep into my eyes.

"I trust you completely," she says.

"Repeat."

"I trust you completely."

"And you will do everything I command?"

"I will do everything you command."

"You are becoming sexually aroused," I say.

"I am becoming sexually aroused."

"Your nipples are starting to harden. Feel how hard they are."

She reaches up with her hand and grips her breast tightly through her dress, kneading it between her fingers while she stares listlessly into my eyes. Her nipple quickly becomes erect. It pushes against the taut material, and I can see it almost as well as if she were naked.

"Play with them for a while. Both of them."

Her other hand comes up to her other breast and she stands there in front of me, massaging her own breasts and nipples, and moaning quietly.

"Tell me how it feels."

"It feels lovely. My boobs are very sensitive and I enjoy playing with them. My pussy is beginning to tingle as a result."

"Have you done this before?"

"Yes, many times."

"What would you usually do next?"

"I would remove my panties next, and then masturbate until I came. Sometimes I would not bother removing my panties first."

"What fantasy would you imagine while doing this?"

"I would imagine a man on top of me, pressing his penis inside me," she says, and then she squeezes her nipples tightly between her fingers and thumbs and moans softly.

"How does your fantasy end?"

"He holds me tight while he cums deep inside me, and I have the biggest orgasm of my life."

"Let your arms fall to your sides," I tell her, and she obeys once more, her gaze never leaving mine.

"Good," I say, admiring her facial features. She is a truly beautiful young lady.

Then she inhales sharply, her mouth opening wide in sudden shock. Her hand flies up half way to her breast, but she brings it down again before it makes contact. She is trembling slightly.

"Are you all right?" I ask.

She gulps. "Yeah, I'm just suddenly ... oh, fuck."

"What's wrong?" I ask, glancing down at the two small lumps at the bosom of her dress.

"I don't know what just came over me. I was just going to say ... and then ... fuck, I'm sorry. I really must go."

"Do you need me to call you an ambulance?"

She laughs, and touches her breast lightly for a moment. "Oh, no, it's nothing like that. It's just that ..."

"It's just that sometimes you can't understand the feelings that your body creates inside you. Sometimes you feel you have no control over them. Sometimes you worry that they will overtake you and make you do things you should not do."

Her eyes widen. "Yes!" she breathes. "How did you know?"

"I know many things. Are you ready to admit, perhaps, that it is not that you don't trust me, it's that ..."

"I don't trust myself," she says, then she clamps her hand over her mouth, shocked at what she has just said.

I smile at her. "But one should always trust one's heart. Often the things that frighten our minds are the things that our hearts need the most."

"You have so much wisdom," she says, gazing into my eyes in wonderment. Her mouth gently falls open once more.

"Will you answer a question for me?"

"Yes I will answer a question for you," she says, monotonously.

"What is your innermost secret desire?" I ask.

"To be fucked, hard. To feel a man thrusting inside me. To be filled with his seed."

"How long have you harboured this desire?"

"Since I was sixteen."

"Are you thinking about this desire now, in relation to me?"

"Yes."

"Then act upon it."

I turn away from her and start walking towards the door. A moment passes.

"Wait!" she suddenly cries behind me. Her voice is desperate.

I turn back. "What is it? I thought you wanted to leave. I was about to open the door for you."

"Please ... let me stay a while longer."

"For what reason?" I ask.

She looks at the ground, not yet ready to confess her desire. Then she looks up again and grins.

"You could show me another trick," she says.

"What kind of trick?" I ask.

"Anything you like!"

"Anything?"

She bites her lip and shudders gently while she smooths her dress down over her thighs.

"Yes ... anything," she says submissively, twisting her leg on the ball of her foot, unable to look me in the eye.

"Good," I say, sitting down by the fire, "then sit down here with your back to me."

She sits down as I instructed. "What now?" she asks.

"Lie down backwards, and cradle your head in my lap. Yes, like this. Straighten your legs. Move your knees slightly apart. Yes, that's good."

"What are you going to do?"

"Quiet. Try to relax. Be as relaxed as you can. Focus on your breathing. Inhale, then exhale, then inhale."

"Mmmm, OK," she says, shuffling on the floor to get more comfortable.

"I am just going to place my fingers on your temples, like this."

"OK."

"Now tell me: do you trust me?"

She looks deeply into my eyes and loses herself once more.

"I trust you completely," she says tonelessly.

"You will do anything I say?"

"I will do anything you say."

"Pull your dress up."

She grabs the hem in both hands and pulls upwards. Now I can see her tiny thong in its entirety. It is the same red lace as her bra.

"Your sexual arousal is increasing. You are getting very wet. Feel how wet you are."

She reaches down and places a finger alongside the narrow string of her thong.

"Ohhhh!" she moans.

"Does this feel good?"

"Yes, it feels very good."

"How wet are you?"

"Quite wet."

"Put your finger inside yourself."

I hear a squelching sound. This is what she describes as quite wet. Interesting.

"Now you will masturbate for me."

She slides her finger out, and up inside her thong, then starts moving it around slowly.

"Explain your technique."

"Right now I am teasing my clitoris, to make it hard and sensitive. Soon I will rub it firmly and rapidly, until I cum."

"You will continue to rub your clitoris as slowly and gently as you possibly can. You will masturbate like this until you are ready to cum, but you will not cum. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she nods obediently.

I watch her tenderly masturbate, slowly teasing herself, for over thirty minutes. Her finger slides everywhere under her thong, so slowly that I almost cannot bear to watch it myself. Her frustration is palpable, but she cannot help herself. She must obey. After five minutes she is moaning constantly. After thirty, it is more like little cries for help, as if each touch makes her die a little more inside. Her whole body is wracked with it. She cannot stop shuddering.

"I can feel my orgasm approaching. I will stop now," she says calmly, and her hand falls to her side and she stops, her eyes still fastened to mine after all this time, her body still shuttering intensely.

"How wet are you?"

"I have never been so wet before. My thong is soaked through."

"Good. Now pull your thong and dress back into place."

She adjusts her thong and pulls her dress back down, covering herself up once more. Visually, it is as if nothing has happened. I make sure my fingers are on her temples, exactly as they were half an hour ago.

I can see it leave her this time. Her whole body contracts, every muscle tensing up at once.

"Ohhhhhh!" she cries out, her arms and legs flailing helplessly for a moment. She sits up quickly. "Oh my God!" she says, turning to face me with wide eyes.

"Did you feel that too?" I ask.

She nods violently. "Yes! Yes I did!"

"When I touched you I felt a small spark of electricity between us."

"A spark?" she cries in amazement. "I'd say it was more than just a spark!"

"How did it feel for you?" I ask curiously.

She opens her mouth and pauses, unsure of whether she can tell me.

"It ... it felt like nothing I've ever felt before," she says, her eyes filled with awe.

Then she lies down again and puts her head back into my lap.

"Will you do it again?" she asks.

"Of course," I say, and I return my fingers to her temples.

She fidgets on the floor, rubbing her thighs together in frustration

"Nothing's happening," she says. Her voice is laden with disappointment.

"You wish for the same feeling again?"

"Yes," she sighs.

"Then you must close your eyes and describe to me exactly what you felt. Perhaps we can recreate that somehow."

Her eyes flicker shut. Her lips are trembling as she speaks.

"I put my head in your lap, and you put your fingers on my head, and then you asked me something. I can't remember what."

Her hand moves unconsciously onto her thigh.

"Suddenly my whole body was tingling, all over, top to bottom, but particularly ... in one place."

I watch as her fingertips slip underneath the hem of her dress, seeking that place out.

"And my underwear was suddenly ... uncomfortable," she says.

Her dress slides up beneath her fingers, revealing her red underwear to me once again. The lacy thong is dark where it touches her virgin flower. Her fingertips slide across her thigh, slowly approaching it.

"But most of all I had this massive urge to ... well, to ..."

Her fingertip slips inside her thong for the briefest of moments before she remembers where she is. Her eyes open again, wide, and she pulls her hand quickly away from between her legs.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! You must think I'm such a slut!"

"There is no need to apologize. It is clear to me that you are not a slut. In fact, you are a very special girl indeed."

She chuckles. "Well, you're not so bad yourself," she says, smiling up into my eyes.

"Thank you," I say, smiling back down at her.

"Am I embarrassing myself?"

"No, not at all," I say.

"I don't know what's come over me tonight. I seem to have lost all my self-control. I'm not normally like this at all."

"Could there be any explanation that you know of?" I ask.

"I don't know ... I guess ..." she says, trailing off.

"What is it?" I prompt.

She looks torn for a second, as if she's not sure whether or not she can tell me. But then a look of resolve crosses her face.

"Well I've kind of wanted to do it for a while, I guess, but I had no idea how badly I wanted it until tonight," she says.

"Wanted what?" I ask.

"To get laid," she smirks, with a sparkle in her eyes.

I smile down kindly at her and stroke the hair off her forehead.

"Then, you need only await the man whom you can trust, who will treat your maidenhood as a gift, and not as a conquest."

Her face softens and she looks up at me lovingly.

"Someone like you, you mean," she says.

I smile down at her.

"What are you trying to say?"

"I don't even know any more," she says, shaking her head in amazement. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Have you ever, you know, popped a girl's cherry?"

"Yes, many years ago."

She looks up at me bashfully. "And did you make her cum?"

I smile down at her.

"She had many orgasms that night, yes."

"How many?" she says, smiling up at me mischievously.

"Too many to count," I say. "Why do you ask?"

She looks deeply into my eyes. I allow her mind to remain her own. It must be her decision.

"I want to give you something. Maybe it will make up for the window I broke."

"What would you like to give me?"

Her smile deepens. "My virginity," she says, looking up into my eyes.

I gaze through her pupils, directly into her soul.

"Masturbate for me again," I say.

Her fingers slip under her dress, and she begins rubbing herself vigourously. She moans loudly and rapidly approaches an orgasmic state.

"Stop." I tell her. "You may not come. You must rub yourself so slowly that you cannot bear it."

She whimpers softly, but obeys. Her vigourous action transforms into a gentle stroking so slow that one could be forgiven for not discerning the motion at all.

This time, only five minutes pass before she stops and silently withdraws her hand.

"Why did you stop?" I ask her. The pain in her eyes is intense.

"I was about to cum. You forbade it, so I stopped."

"Good."

I release her. She looks up at me and inhales deeply, her eyes wide with shock and desire.

"Are you certain?" I ask. "This would indeed be a great privilege, although I consider it far more valuable than a mere window."

She is shivering. Her whole body is trembling with desire. Her hand slides underneath her dress again, but this time she does not stop herself.

"I almost came just now when I asked you. I don't know what's come over me, but I do know one thing: I want you to make love to me, tonight, here by the fire. Please say you will," she breathes passionately.

"Indeed, this would be a great honour, and I am happy to accept," I say.

She smiles relief and gratitude up at me, then she lifts up the edge of her dress and raises her eyebrows.

"You can make my panties vanish now if you like," she says, grinning.

I smile widely at her. "See if you can spot how I do it this time," I say.

She nods gently, still trembling, as I enter her mind once more.

"Remove your panties and give them to me."

She brings her knees up to her chest, while her head lays in my lap and her eyes remain affixed to mine. She raises her buttocks from the ground, reaches under her skirt with two hands and pulls out the tiny red undergarment. She slides it past her knees and over her feet.

"Here," she says, still gazing into my eyes as she holds them up for me. As I take them from her she unfolds her legs again and smooths her dress down over her thighs.

I hold her wet thong up to my face and inhale the sweet aroma she has deposited there, then I throw it onto the fire. It sends thick white smoke up the chimney for a few seconds before bursting into rapid flames, which consume it in an instant.

She laughs when her own mind returns to her.

"How did you do that?" she asks with incredulity as she runs her hands over her dress, feeling for the telltale lines that are no longer there.

"Ah, a magician must have his secrets," I reply, leaning down and kissing her tenderly on the lips.

"Mmmmm," she moans. Her mouth opens slightly and I take her bottom lip between my teeth. She moans again as I nibble her; it is a soft yet desperate sound. Soon I release her and lift my head away. Her head rises to follow me but I grasp it firmly in my hands, setting it down onto the rug as I slide myself backwards.