Rising Tides

I came back to myself before the my sweat had dried. I was still bound, and I was dripping a variety of fluids - semen, sweat, tears, my own fluids, saliva - onto the leather seat. It made me oddly happy to ruin the custom leather interior of this royally screwed up SUV. I moaned a little, then realized that the gag was gone. I opened my eyes, and met his subtly shifting green and blue ones. He was sitting in a chair (which should not have fit in the back) watching me and smiling with genuine pleasure. I groaned. I'm not exactly sure what I was trying to convey.

"I hope you liked that little one. Many, many, more times will you experience such sensation at my hands." I groaned again, emphatically. "I suppose I shall take you to your home now."

"Driving?" I whispered. He nodded. I glanced down at myself, then at my tied up wrists and legs. "I'm not buckled in." He laughed.

"Why should that matter to me? Your body is mine to do with as I please." Then, for a split second in among the shifting blue and green tattoos on his chest there was a flash of red and silver. He frowned. "Although, I suppose it would be tiresome to heal your injuries if the coach crashed. I'd much rather spend the time having revenge for such carelessness on the driver." He flicked his fingers, and a web of silky green ropes secured me to the seat. I glared at him, even as I wondered about that flash of red and silver. Magic? Given all that had happened I suppose maybe I should accept that it was possible.

"Driver. Go." The car began to move. The man shifted calmly across the back of the vehicle, and it shrunk as I watched. He began to delicately run his hands over my limbs, and more threads of blue, green, and occasionally silver-grey took form. As his hands trailed over my flesh I felt them relax utterly. No more pain, although they were still very tired.

"I thought you already bound me."

He frowned, then looked quizzically at me. "I have. Your body was not meant to experience such an intense climax, especially not more than once in such a short time. I'm healing you. Why do you ask?"

"The little lights. You're doing magic or somethin'." I said tiredly. He stiffened, as though he was actually surprised.

"What do you see?"

"Green. Blue. Grey or silver." I yawned. "Pretty patterns, words I can't read." He raised an eyebrow.

"Can your parents see these things?"

"Dunno. Mom tol' Gramma met my father one night only, an' she was dead 'for I was in school. Gramma raised me." Another yawn, a huge one.

The man frowned, then waved a hand. I was looking at a wave made of tiny green and blue threads, the spray at the tip silvery. I smiled. "An ocean wave." He flicked his fingers at my wrists, and the ropes dissolved. He slashed a finger through the air in front of me, leaving a simple, rather thick thread of dark green in the air.

"Tie it in a knot." I rather tiredly reached for the strand of light. Somehow I grabbed both ends. Then with a hiss drew back.

"It stings." He sighed, and frowned at me. "Ok. I just didn't like the little static charges." I concentrated, then managed to loop the thread into a slip knot. I looked defiantly at him. He was smiling, and he looked very pleased.

"Well. Well, well, well. That explains why you were able to resist me so well. An untrained, just awakened mage of considerable power. Bound to me before you could learn enough to fully defend yourself and awakened by my own power. My, my. This was a much better evening than I thought."

"Uh?" I said. Given how tired I was that seemed like the height of wit. The SUV stopped moving.

"We are at your home now. You will do exactly as I say - walk up to your apartment. Shower. Sleep, and meet your foolish little mortal friend for a meal tomorrow. You will see me in the afternoon."

"Not wearing clothes, 'n I need my keys."

He laughed, and his smile was again naughty teenaged boy. "I don't care. Besides, it pleases me to demonstrate my power over your body right now. To remind you who you have sworn owns it." However, he did pass me my purse.

I managed to assemble rally my brain for one last question, "what do I call you?"

He raised a single light brown brow, partly in surprise, partly in approval. "You may call me Dylan. Dylan Aegirson." His features shifted subtly from perfect symmetry to a more normal (though still gorgeous) face. Then he opened the vehicle door and let me out. He casually caressed my bare butt as I passed.

As he commanded I walked into my apartment building, rode the elevator (as promised no one saw me), showered, and went to bed. Before I passed out I looked at the clock. Mel had left me at the bar less than 6 hours ago, and in that time my life had utterly changed.