Majic Continued

Her thoughts then turned to what she had done. It was an impetuous act to escape the terrible humiliation she felt, but now a deep regret settled into her, as well as an overwhelming fear. She was still angry, but only with herself for being so foolish. She knew he would be angry with her, but she knew also he would be insane with worry. The fear came from not knowing how the combination of the two feelings would bode for her. The regret came from knowing she hurt the one she only wished to please. Oasis loved Philippe, and having these moments to think, her heart was breaking for letting her anger get the best of her. She pulled a napkin to dab her eyes before they spilled over. Glancing her distorted reflection in the chrome holder, she thought it best to try and clean her face in the ladies room, before finding her way home. Telling the waitress she would return in a moment, she headed in that direction.

Marcus, after having descended this avenue twice, saw her leave her position through these windows. To have her in sight now, he was very much relieved. The part of the city they were in was not a place for a lady only dressed in a coat and heels. He wondered if she knew the degenerative state of her surroundings at all. Is was of no consequence, but he did feel better knowing he would bring her to Philippe safe and intact. When he sat in the same booth she had left, the waitress informed him this booth was taken. He gave her an impish look, and a pass of money she could not refuse. She still took his food order, but with the understanding to make herself scarce. He waited.

Oasis came from the ladies room, face washed, but still feeling the same low spirits in what she had done. Her only thought was for how Philippe would be feeling right now, not knowing exactly where she was. Approaching the booth she had left, she looked up to see Sir Duazat starring right into her eyes, sitting across from her uneaten food. She froze. It was almost like being in slow motion, when he put his hand up and commanded her forward. She moved towards him, but could still feel herself pulling behind her. When she sat across from him, everything pushed it's way forward, so much, she covered her face with her hands to slow it down. Even when he pushed her hands away from her face, she could not look at him. She stared down at her unwanted bagel, thinking this would be thrown away, just as she should be right now.

"When I picked you up the first time, I never thought you would be so foolish as you were this morning." He said, chiding her openly. His food came then and he fell silent. While he was waiting for her, he had phoned Philippe to relieve his worry.

"Sir, I am so very sorry to have caused so much worry," Oasis said, still not looking at him. "I was just now going to go home"

Marcus took her hands in his over the table. Though his face was smiling, he gripped her hands tighter, and tighter, until he heard her wince with pain. When she looked up at him in a silent plea to let go, he only gripped them tighter still.

Oasis knew it was no use to try and pull away from him. What she saw in his eyes did not display upon his face. When she had first met him, she knew his eyes to be blue, but the ice pouring from them now into hers, brought not only her fears to surface again, but also her anger. She met his gaze, fiercely determined not to show the pain he was giving to her hands. He released one hand, and openly slapped her across the face. The surprise of this brought her free hand down, knocking her uneaten bagel into her lap. She did not move, did not cry out, but did lower her eyes.

Marcus quiet satisfied, ate his cooling meal in silence, but never did let go of the other hand.

Provoking a Gorilla

The ride back to her home was one of intense silence. Oasis was grateful not to have to board another subway in reminder, but at the moment, very uncomfortable kneeling in such a cramped space in the floor of this car. She humbly accepted this, not wanting to be slapped so publicly again. As he deigned her with only silence, she was left to her own thoughts. Kneeling, her feet under the driver's seat, she looked at the empty seat before her. In her mind she tried to play images upon this seat, as to what she would be facing very soon. She tried very hard to imagine the worst, but the only image that would come to her mind was the face of Philippe, and the intense disappointment she could imagine in his eyes. To even imagine brought such intense feelings of remorse to her. With her hands over her face she lay now in this seat weeping openly.

Marcus not wanting to let go of his anger, ran his hand through his hair, turning to look out the other window. From his first encounter with her, he remembered how this one could bring such desire with such sweet tears. He resisted the urge to caress her hair spilling around her on this seat. Wanting his attention elsewhere, he decided to call Don Giacommo. In Italian he spoke, knowing Oasis would not understand. In explaining to Giovanni the situation Philippe was having, he was delighted to be told there would be an open court at Sir Blackheart's estate in only a few short weeks. With them all being friends, he told Giovanni he would tell Philippe of this, in hopes to see Oasis brought there. Smiling, he saw his reflection in the glass of the window. He was pleased to see himself not so manipulated by her.

They arrived to her home. Oasis spoke not a word, but wondered while getting out of the car if she could even walk. Her legs and feet had become so numb kneeling this way. Determined not to have Sir Duazat have to touch her, she focused only to put one foot in front of the other. This brought to her mind a silly song from a Christmas movie, "Santa Claus is Coming to Town". She thought of the snow wizard being reduced to merely a man, and having to learn how to be again, and Claus singing "You.. put.. one.. foot.. in front of the other….". She scolded herself some for being so silly, but felt a little encouraged not stumbling so much. Oasis need not have worried Marcus would have helped her gain her feet. He would have thoroughly enjoyed watching if she had to crawl to her front door.

Marcus entered first, finding Philippe brewing on the sofa. Oasis came in too, closing the door behind her. Briefly she looked to Philippe, and stood silently in her remorse. The silence was deafening, and she could feel his eyes burning through her. She knelt, hoping it would not be for long. She did not think a silly song would help her now.

It was not a long time. Philippe angrily strode to where she was kneeling. He grabbed a handful of hair, and pulled her up to meet his gaze, pleased to hear a small cry from her lips. With his other hand he grabbed her throat forcing her up against the closed door, slowly cutting off her air. The fear he saw in her eyes and face aroused him so intensely. The struggle she was beginning, even more so. He released her throat, his anger languished in her gasps for air.

"Shower and then greet me for punishment when I come to you!" He commanded, releasing her hair, and watching her slide down the door, to the floor. She went as told quickly, relieved to be out of his reach.

Philippe sat back down feeling relief wash over him, now that she was home, and he knew her to be safe. He looked at Marcus with a wan smile wishing he could express his gratitude to him for bringing her home. None was needed as Marcus only threw his hands in the air and back down with a small laugh, letting Philippe know, crisis is gone, things will go back to normal.

"Have you decided a punishment for her yet Philippe?" Marcus asked curiously.

"Honestly Marcus, I have still not gotten past the point of killing her yet, to get to only a punishment. The place she exited the subway, and the things I imagined happening to her…." Philippe dropped off from the sentence.

"Well then, I have wonderful news. I spoke to Giovanni on the way here. There is an open court scheduled in two weeks at Sir Blackheart's estate. He says you are welcome to bring her and participate, but you are to know it is viewed as an event, and there will be many present to see." Marcus said this mentally pushing Philippe to agree.

This was not a difficult suggestion to agree to. She had run from a humiliation, showing her willfulness in front of more than just him. It would be logical to be so displayed, and punished with no place to run to. "Yes, Marcus, I think this would be just, for her behavior today. I will take care in how I mark her tonight, I know they will not accept her, were she to bare marks."

This decided, Marcus left to make the arrangements. Don Giacommo having his own slave, lore, there for trial, said he would arrange for the two to be quartered together beforehand. This would at least assure the three friends table accommodations together.

Philippe entered her room to find her exactly as he wished. Hands held correctly above her head, against the wall, her body pushed far out, with her legs spread very wide. He admired her backside for a time before removing his belt and approaching her. He placed it over her shoulder near her neck, and let it dangle there so she could see it first. He saw her breathing come a bit faster, and pulled it slowly, caressing her back with its tail until it fell from her bottom. Repeating this motion again on the other side, truly enjoying the slight stiffening in her body, a desire so strong came over him to hear her cry out, he quickly lashed her twice to each side. She did cry out, in surprise with the force of these given, but he wanted more. The desire was not quelled with cries, but now wanted cries of pain from her. He lashed her again, this time not counting or even calculating where they would land. His frustration, anger, worry, and love, all given with each one. Even when she fell to her knees in pain, unable to hold this position any longer, he continued. Her agony invoked such a passion in him, he only wanted to hear it again and again. She begged him, pleaded with him to stop, all these words falling to a deaf ear. She could hear him breathing like an animal, and imagined one so enraged. He took a moment to adjust the belt to his other hand to begin again.

"Je t'aime Philippe," she whispered.

Hearing these quiet words from her, he stopped the belt in midair, his hand still high above his head. He looked at her then huddled close to the wall, arms still above her, so vulnerable. Seeing too, there were not many places left on her backside, including her legs, unmarked. Blinking, he felt almost to come back to himself. Her continued love deflated his anger, and remembering she could not carry marks for this trial, he dropped the belt to the floor. He sat on the bed and undressed, never taking his eyes from where she held herself so open. Pulling her from the wall, her face and arms now to the floor, her flaming backside now before him, he raped her tiny hole. "Say it again," he said, as he forced his way deeper, lost in his own sensations of pleasure.

"I love you Philippe," she gasp over and over between her cries of pain.

The Lion's Den

Oasis felt near absolution, when Philippe released himself into her. The pain, and her words spoken over and over, bringing a release of her own. She lay still in his arms, quietly listening to him breath. Glancing at her clock, it was 6:00 again, but evening this time. His arm across her back hurt her terribly, but she did not move from it. She wanted to only feel her body against him, grateful he had not left her alone yet. When he raised himself onto an elbow to look down at her, she winced audibly with this movement.

"You will be leaving in two weeks Oasis," he said, tracing his finger tip from her brow, to her jaw. He smiled as she raised herself on her own elbow in surprise.

"But Philippe," she started.

"Tonight was punishment, Oasis, for giving me so much worry, where you will be going next, is for the display of many" he spoke, before she could continue any objection. "You, as will some others, will be put on a sort of trial. It is not a judge and jury sort, but more a public display of punishments. You will have no opportunity to be willful and decide for yourself to leave this time. If you tried, you would only be required to stay a longer period of time, even after the trial event were over. I would suggest you behave impeccably as they may also punish you for any infractions during your stay." Saying this, he untangled his legs from hers, gently pulling her from the bed. "Come, I want to bathe your marks." She followed dutifully, thinking only how soothing this bath would be to her, and to him.

There were no other preparations for her, other than to watch as the marks he had given her faded before the impending two weeks. He had seen her only once since that day, and had loved her so tenderly, she thought he might have changed his mind. The thought was soon dispelled as he began to give her instructions for this day soon after. She was to bring only what she wore there, everything else would be provided for her. As to the length of her stay, that would be up to her. If she followed the rules set forth upon her arrival, she would be able to leave with him the same evening of the trial. Were she to have unacceptable infractions, she would stay as long as deemed appropriate. She promised him, she would be able to come home with him.

The day to leave for trial arrived. She had thought so much of this day, and with so many different forms. None of which even coming close to the events soon to take place. She thought of present day trials, and being afforded an attorney, and of past day trials, where such an attorney would wear a wig. She laughed at the thought of Philippe, and his friends in wigs and curtails. She imagined herself humorously too, sitting at the defendants table dressed only in corset, and naughty bloomers. Taking a more serious tone, she looked at herself in the mirror. She wondered if this trial would change her demeanor forever, or only bring out and accentuate what was true to her heart? Though naked just out of the shower, she could still imagine this corset, and, oh so naughty, bloomers in a time when this was not permissible. Philippe had told her, he would be taking her there, so she decided to forego these funny thoughts, and at least be ready when he came for her. She dressed very simply. A button down one piece sun dress, with sandals as preference.

Philippe was punctual as ever, and so was she. "Hello my love," he said and kissed her deeply. The buttons were unnecessary as he pulled this over her head, and held her naked against him. He then pushed her over the sofa's arm and took her this way, with a lover's passion, but with also a loving need. She was not at all surprised his need of her, she desired him at every moment. She longed to keep him this way, but as her pleasure came, so did his, and again she made herself ready to leave.

The drive was familiar to her. He had not told her where this trial was taking place, but mile by mile her anxiety began to grow. When they turned into the familiar drive, and topped the familiar crest in the road, her face grew pale with remembered words. "The people you are going to meet and see tonight are of the "Old Ways". Had you treated one of them so boldly without thought, you would have ended up spending the night, in for you, unimaginable discomfort." This had been spoken to her by Sir Duazat on her first visit here. The mansion looked foreboding, not the fairy tale of her first visit. Unimaginable discomforts. This thought continued through her mind. She placed her hand under Philippe's hand not on the wheel, and gripped so tight, he glanced over to her.

"Philippe, please tell me this is not where you will leave me," she whispered.

"Oasis, is this not what you expected?" he asked, knowing, just by the feel of her hand, it was not. "You will stay here today and tonight, and be delivered your punishment tomorrow before the many, as I have told you," he said, matter of fact.

She watched as the mansion approached her. It was not at all a feeling of driving towards it, as a feeling of it coming for her. If she had been the driver, she would have turned the car and sped away, but with no other choice, she sat, in silence, imagining the worst. No more funny thoughts or songs came to her aid.

Philippe thought he might should have told her the location of her punishment, as he near pulled her up the mica enclosed steps. As amusing as it was to see her hesitations, he hoped she would not lose her resolve, and still be able to come home with him tomorrow. Nearing the door he held her close one more time. "Relax, Oasis, you act like the first time you ever waxed yourself for me," he said, trying to make her laugh.

She did laugh, remembering how much afraid she was of this simple task. "Philippe, just promise me no one will be wearing rolled wigs," she joked, turning to leave him quickly before he could ask.

He stood on the steps for a moment wondering what she was talking about, while watching the door close behind her. Shaking his head, he returned to his car, feeling she would be all right if she could be so silly now.

She was treated as before, lead to an antechamber, and left there with only a stool to sit upon. She waited, and soon two entered, though this time both male, and both bearing iron shackles in each hand. Not speaking to her, they put these aside, and undressed her completely. Still in good humor, Oasis, thought to tell the two, they could have pulled the dress over her head, but stayed silent watching as the buttons were undone. Expertly they placed the iron around her neck, wrists, knees, and ankles. They were clever devices, being tightened with a twist key, to fit exactly on each part of her. Her amusement still continuing she thought, "How nice, a one size fits all accessory." Her humor might have continued, but a man of towering proportion then entered, making the room seem very much too small for as many who were in it. In his hands he carried a single heavy link chain. He approached them all, and as the two with her kneeled before him, she could only stand with eyes lowered and wait.

It was not to say she felt no intimidation, but only that she served One. She was released to this house, but would only submit if told to do so. It was not necessary, as he only commenced to attach the end of the chain to her ankles, binding them together through the eyeholes, then locking them together. Drawing the chain up between her knees, he did the same, but also pushing her to a sitting position, and connecting her hands and linking them with her knees. She thought of how she used to sit as a child reading a book this way, her hands underneath, and the book open upon her knees. The last link of the chain from her hands was connected to her iron collar. It allowed her to only raise her head to just below her shoulders. She realized it was a position not to allow her to look up, not even if she looked sideways. In this position, she would not be open to anyone's pleasure, nor to her own. The giant, without a word, had removed her from herself.

Oasis still only able to look at her hands, felt herself lifted, so chained, her lower body she could see suspended, as the two male escorts followed the giant. It was a descent down a stairwell, Oasis thought would never end. She could feel the change in climate on her bare skin, and almost taste in her mouth the ancient feel to the walls and tiles she could see in her peripheral vision and below her feet. When her movement stopped, she heard a loud creaking noise, as a huge iron door opened to let them through. Carried through the threshold and the sound of the heavy door closing, she felt every part familiar to her gone, behind this door, to the world above her. Philippe had said she would spend this day, and one night here. As panic wanted to envelope her, she forced it away, trying to only imagine him awaiting her return. It was not an easy task, as the dungeon tried to take this part from inside of her too. She lay her face in her hands, as so many had done before her, and hoped to retain at least her inner self to cling to.