Mirror Bound

He clearly didn't want to discuss it any further, he had trouble looking at me but also couldn't keep his eyes off me. He nearly whispered: 'I didn't realize you were so beautiful.' There had been way too much talk already, and this wasn't helping. I said: 'I'll respect it if you don't want to become intimate with me, but don't expect me to start acting like a stranger.'

And I took him in my arms and leaned against him, resting my head on his chest. It was so good to smell him again, and feel his strong body. I felt him tense at first, then give himself over to me, allowing himself to enjoy this little bit of intimacy.

We stood there, with me imagining him on top of me, stark naked, thrusting his manhood deep inside me, the thought giving me an instant thrill of intense lust. What he felt I don't know, but the way he clung to me proved it was not indifference. He even dared running his hands through my hair, saying: 'I've tried polishing copper to this sheen, but I couldn't do it.'

When Lukas came in, Paul released me instantly. But Lukas of course did not claim me, and he was very happy to see me where I desperately wanted to be. Still, his entrance was the end of our little bit of intimacy, but it had been enough.

Lukas and I sat down at the table with a cup of tea, and Paul busied himself with food, listening to Lukas' praise of his workmanship and taste whilst he prepared a meal in the same way as yesterday, only with Greek style cheese instead of meat, and a lot more oil. Apparently Paul thought Lukas needed to eat some fat to gain weight.

Lukas did understand without being told that Paul had made all of this, every little detail, with his own hands, and he was clearly very much impressed. He said: 'You are clearly a gifted craftsman, even an artist, as well as a highly ranking magician. No wonder you have little time to spend on women.'

Of course this was meant as an allusion to Paul's rejection of my blatant attempts to get him to bed me, but Paul reacted quite embarrassedly, apparently understanding it the wrong way, and thereby revealing more than he would have wanted. I filed that new knowledge away for future use, and waited to hear what Paul would reply, of course depending on his own translation of what he said: 'Thank you, I think.'

Lukas had more observations about the house, having compared it to my apartment as well, and seen the differences in spaces. He also professed a great interest in seeing Paul's workshop, where all those beautiful things had been designed and crafted. Of course, Paul was happy to offer him a tour of the workshop tomorrow, during my working hours.

I worked mornings on the sites of the buildings I inspected, then usually spent some more hours calculating and drawing at home, in preparation for the next day. It was a great job, giving me plenty of freedom and quite an adequate salary. It also would enable me to study magic with Paul for a few hours each day.

Then, dinner was ready and we sat and ate, talking about Lukas' people and their customs, and about our Victorian customs. Paul said everything in two languages, Lukas and I both spoke our own.

Lukas enjoyed the meal very much, after being starved he had much more use for a light meal like this, even though he looked as if he could use the calories of something like those sausages on the market. But rich food could still make him very sick. Still, Paul dared to offer him a slice of home-made pie as dessert, with cream on top. It was delicious, and Lukas dared to eat all of his generous slice. He was clearly doing really well.

After dinner and the washing up, we sat in the living-room for a little while, checking out the books Paul had fished out of his enormous collection to help Lukas learn the language. And Paul took the time to answer all the questions I had accumulated whilst reading his books on magic.

I learned I could expect to discover magical abilities that I would develop spontaneously. And by practising discipline and meditation I would be able to direct the abilities more accurately, and control them in acute situations. I was really curious what abilities I would get.

Lukas listened with interest as well, his people also knew magic he said. In fact, it was widespread, his people knew little technology, using magic for most utilities that we were improving with steam and electricity, like lighting and heating our houses, and heating water for cooking and bathing. This interested Paul immensely, and I was certain they would discuss the differences between both societies a lot in the near future.

Lukas was clearly intrigued by the technology that Paul used, even invented. Paul asked if Lukas had any magic of his own, and Lukas replied that he had some experience with its use, instinctively, but that he had no magic he could use consciously. His father apparently was a high-ranking magician in his country, and all his siblings followed in his footsteps.

It seemed as if our Lukas was a bit of a black sheep in the family, not amounting to much in the eyes of his father. Paul told him that in our world, magic often took some time to break through, especially at a more profound level. This intrigued Lukas, for apparently he was only a half-sibling to his more talented sisters and brothers, his mother having been of his own kind, the people with horns we generally called satyrs, and his father human. 'My mother had no magic,' he said, 'and I had only a tiny, unconscious bit, and that was before my captors shaved off my hair.'

'Wait a second, ' I exclaimed, 'you have hair?' Lukas laughed at my surprise: 'I'll have you know I have curly hair to rival Paul here. Those demons shaved it off after I pulled a trick on them, nearly getting them to fight each other.

They shaved me, and not gently, just before I escaped. The welts on my back were the result of my feeble attempts at resistance.' That was quite a revelation, I thought he was naturally hairless. I couldn't resist, I had to feel his head, and indeed, there was a little stubble there. There were also the cuts I noticed yesterday, reminding me of the welts on his back.

I asked Paul: 'Do you by any chance know anything of healing?' Paul answered: 'I'm not a doctor, but I can treat wounds when they're not infected. Comes with the job of guardian, it's a bit of a high risk job, and some of the people I come into contact with distrust doctors. In really bad cases I can sometimes use magic, but not always.'

That was good enough for me, and I asked Lukas: 'Would you mind showing Paul those welts, I'd like to have his opinion on their condition.' Lukas answered cheekily: 'Any excuse to take my clothes off,' and he stripped himself of his shirt.

Seeing his mottled skin with the angry red marks reminded me of yesterday night, when I had held him in my arms, still sticky with blood. It caused me to feel a surge of love for this young man, looking so different, but feeling so familiar already. Paul was clearly a bit shocked at the extent of the damage, he hadn't realized Lukas was hurt as well as emaciated.

He sat next to Lukas and probed the welts, noticing that the skin around them was not swollen and that they were clean and scabbed over. 'They must hurt quite a bit, but they are not infected and are healing well,' Paul said.

'Melissa cleaned them yesterday night. It hurt like hell, but apparently it worked, ' Lukas explained. Paul looked at his head as well: 'And this is from the shaving? The cuts are deeper but narrower, and also clean and on their way to healing. I can feel your stubble too,' Paul said, stroking Lukas's head to enjoy the feel of the tiny hairs. Lukas was undergoing the attention with his eyes closed like a cat, so predictable and yet so endearing.

I was actually looking forward to tonight, before going to sleep we would probably make love again, my hands on his horns, his hands on me. But tomorrow was an early day, and I needed my hours of sleep. So I proposed to Lukas to go back to our own apartment, which he agreed to.

Paul asked Lukas: 'Will come to me tomorrow? I can help you with your English, and you can help me in the workshop. No-one will see you there, and you'll be safe and not feel lonely.' I was really grateful, for I didn't look forward to leaving him all alone for a whole day.

And Lukas told him: 'Yes, please. Such a stroke of good luck that you speak Greek.' At this, Paul said cryptically: 'That may not be a coincidence. I'll have to look into that.' As we climbed the beautiful stairs to the front door, Paul seemed to be a lot less sure suddenly, which I took as a sign that he wanted to be intimate in his goodbye to me, but didn't know how to start. No longer hindered by doubt and insecurity towards him, I embraced and kissed him, and he not only returned it, but also leaned into me and dared to touch my hair again.

I'd rather have had him run his hand over my breasts, but with patience that moment might still come. With Lukas looking his encouragement to me I kept Paul in my arms until he started to get restless, then I released him and Lukas and I went upstairs.

Chapter 7

Once in my apartment, Lukas had a night snack, and I asked him: 'I suppose that not accepting an offer of intimacy from someone you love would be very rude where you come from?' Lukas confirmed: 'Very rude indeed, I have a lot to learn if I ever want to fit in here. What Paul did tonight, just kissing your hand instead of showing you some real affection, when you had clearly dressed up especially for him, would have meant the end of his chances with you. It would have been an insult.'

I nodded, observing: 'And here it is a sign of self-control, of manliness even, and it shows great respect to the lady in question. He actually accepted quite a high level of intimacy from me. That doesn't mean I wasn't disappointed.'

Now, Lukas looked at me in an intense way, and said: 'Will you allow me to make up for your disappointment by showing you my admiration for you?' And though I really needed my sleep to be able to get up early the next morning, I did want what he offered, so I nodded to show him my consent.

He took off his shirt and trousers, folding them neatly and laying them on a chair. Then he offered me his hand, and led me to the bedroom. There, he sat on the edge of the bed, and instead of watching how I undressed, he unbuttoned the whole front of my dress, then helped me out of it, laying it over the same bedroom chair as his own stuff.

Seeing him naked made me realize this was still his natural state to me, and to him as well, for he had no consciousness of being undressed at all. Soon I was totally naked too, and Lukas clearly showed his appreciation of my body. Starting with my feet, he held every part of my body, stroking it, kissing it, admiring it.

As he slowly moved upward, of course my excitement grew. He invited me to sit on the bed, and sat on the floor between my legs. Kissing my inner thighs, he came ever closer to a part of me that now wanted him intensely. But he kissed it, tasted it, and moved on to my buttocks, my belly, my breasts, my neck, and my mouth. His hands ran through my glorious hair, and he bent over me to kiss it, too. Then he went back to what he had only tasted before, and gave it his undivided attention. After that, our lovemaking turned a lot rougher, and it ended with Lukas totally out of breath, and me totally sated.

The last thing I did before falling asleep was warn him: 'If you want to make love tomorrow morning, you'll have to wake early, for I have to be up at first light.' Excitedly he asked: 'Can I wake you, you know, by entering you? Like this morning, only with you not scaring me?' Already half asleep I agreed: 'Yes you can. You are really something, you know.' And then I fell asleep, dreaming of an intensely blue sea, craggy rocks, and venerable old trees standing in dry tilled earth.

That morning I had a different dream, a very stimulating one. I was riding wave after wave of intense pleasure, a burning hot spot between my legs the centre of the blissful rolling movement. It was a very nice dream, probably brought on by the awakening of my sexual feeling by... waking a little bit I realized I was not just dreaming.

The movement I was riding was Lukas', and the stimulation was not just in my mind, for I now clearly felt him filling me up. He must have manoeuvred himself under and behind me in just the right spot to penetrate me without waking me up, and now he was moving us both in that slow, wave-like rhythm. He had an arm around me, his hand between my legs, stimulating me from the outside. How had he done that without waking me? He truly was a randy goat, but I loved him for it.

Soon, I couldn't think anymore, the pleasure was getting so intense it took over my whole being. A cry escaped me when I reached my high, after which he speeded up his pumping. I moved to my knees to give him more space, which stimulated him even more, holding on to my hips and thrusting at ever increasing pace.

Just when I thought he couldn't go any faster, his hands clenched at my hips and he came in a series of spasms. Panting like a dog, he fell back on the bed, totally spent once again.

I lay down on top of him, supporting myself on my arms so as not to squash him, and kissed him on his mouth. He couldn't return the kiss for lack of breath, but he did look at me with intense love. I said: 'You naughty horny billy-goat how did you manage to do that without waking me?' He laughed, getting his breath back reasonably fast, and said: 'Years of experience my dear, years and years of practice.' Then he admitted: 'Actually, you were sleeping quite deeply, it would have taken a lot of effort to wake you. But it was time anyway and this was more fun. Wasn't it?' I had to admit he had brought me to new heights of passion, and I could see he had totally spent himself again. I asked him: 'Do you have to go so deeply, spend yourself so totally each time?' He replied: 'How else will I get my stamina back? I can't go for a good run outside, or go swimming. Maybe helping Paul at the forge will make me a bit more fit.'

But now I had to go to work, so I kissed my bed-partner, thanked him for the ride, showered and dressed in one of my suits. My hair was put up again, and I had a good breakfast. 'Will you go to Paul straight away, or will you sleep some more first?' I asked.

Lukas answered: 'I'll sleep some more, then I'll go, he'll probably interrogate me again, about my country, about my family, maybe even in English, to see how much I have picked up already, but I will go. He can help me fit in, too, and I can help him with his work. I'm looking forward to seeing his workshop, where all those beautiful things are born.'

'Wear clothes, or at least ask him if he is fine with it before you go there naked,' I advised. But he said: 'No, I want to fit in, I'll wear clothes so I get used to them. As long as I can sleep naked and maybe sometimes walk around without trousers in your house, I'll manage.' That pleased me, though I kind of liked him being naked, it seemed fitting for him to walk around as nature intended. I had to go, and I kissed him once more then left.

On the last stairs I ran into Paul, again, which confused me quite a bit after last night. He seemed more comfortable with me in a suit and my hair put up, and I clearly felt that though he did 'see' me now, he hadn't forgotten how I looked in a dress.

Good, I wanted him to remember that, I wanted him to lose some inner peace or even sleep over that image.

I did please me that he wanted to say goodbye to me, for I had not a doubt that he had been waiting for me, listening to hear me on the stairs. I decided to allow myself a hug and a good sniff at him, so I wrapped my arms around him, resting my face against his throat where his shirt opened, and took a nice deep breath. It was wonderful.

He did feel a bit awkward and tense in my arms at first, but soon he started to lean into me a little. I even got a slightly more than chaste kiss out of him, which was enough for now, I would just have to allow him some time.

Then I said: 'Please take good care of my billy-goat for me, he's coming over after his beauty-sleep. I'm going on an inspection, I'll be back in the afternoon to do some calculations at home, and then I'm free to do some studying.'

Paul asked me: 'Lunch at my place?' I accepted gladly: 'Please, deliver me from my own cooking!' and off I was.

After a twenty minute walk I arrived on the construction site I was currently inspecting. The building was starting to look quite impressive, after the foundation had been laid the contractors were now putting up the frame of cast iron, fusing it together with huge bolts and some welds. The cast iron construction would be covered with glass panels, shaping an enormous glasshouse in the modern Victorian style.

My job was to monitor the whole building process for safety, the city council my employer. I would check the architect's calculations, run over his drawings minutely, measure every line put on the building plans and calculate it up to full-scale, then measure it in the field to see if it all added up. I had to check the building materials for quality, all for the good cause of safety.

It was a really responsible job, and a difficult one, not only because of the work itself, but mostly because I was a woman in a man's world. But the contractors knew me and no longer tried to get away with inferior materials or sloppy calculations. They knew I'd spot them and use my authority to stop the build until safety measures were met again.

I'd had to do that in the past, but no longer. Even new contractors were warned not to fool with me, and though the people whose work I inspected didn't like me, they did respect me, which was good enough. I suppose they didn't like my male colleagues either.

My superior in the council trusted me in everything, and even liked to talk shop with me, and the work itself was a continual challenge. I could more or less decide what hours to work, was allowed, even supposed, to do the calculations and measurements at home, and I had a lot of leisure time. And the pay was good.

As I passed the temporary gate put up around the building site, the workmen nodded or called 'good morning' to me. They mostly liked me, for inspecting safety measures was also my job, and they knew the risk of accidents was reduced to a minimum on the sites that I controlled, no matter what corners their bosses tried to cut to save a few pennies or hours of construction time.

In the two days I had been off work they had progressed a lot, the whole metal frame was standing up, and they would be ready to start applying the glass tomorrow. It would take at least a week to cover the building completely, provided the framework was stable enough to start glazing, and it was my responsibility to judge if it was.

So I went to the little cabin that served the architect and the contractors as office for a briefing. All three of them were present, the architect, the contractor that had built the frame and the one who was supplying the glass panelling.

Whilst we were drinking coffee and talking about the progress of the building and the weather forecasts, the owner came in as well. Now everyone was present, and I started off by telling I had checked every one of their calculations and had found not a single aberration. Today, I wanted to measure the frame against the drawings, to see if the measurements matched the drawings, ensuring it was strong enough to carry the weight of the glass.

The four men were very confident, and so was I. This lot had not made a single mistake yet, so I expected them to get the rest right as well, but of course I was going to check.