One Night with the Magician

Returning to the fire, I noticed that most of the children and a few of the adults had left the circle. Several people had brought out hand drums, and together they were pounding out a fast paced, mesmerizing beat. Dhara sat down next to Dorren, I sat on the other side of her a few feet away from a bare-chested young man with a drum. Looking him over, I noticed that his arms and torso, at least, were free of tattoos. I stared into the fire and listened to the drums, and nearly jumped when I felt a hand land on my shoulder.

I whirled around to see none other than Sahir staring down at me. "Sorry to startle you," he said. "I just thought I'd come over and say hello." He nodded at the space between the bare-chested man and me. "May I?"

I nodded and moved over slightly, and he settled next to me. We were both silent as we looked one another over. Dhara wasn't lying about his age, looking at him I guessed him to be no older than thirty. His skin was darker than my own but lighter than Dorren's, and his dark brown hair was wildly curly; his eyes, in contrast, were a bright, almost translucent blue. He wore a loose-fitting shirt of a dark, rough material, open in front, and what looked like part of a tattoo of a star was visible through the opening. He gave me a wide smile. "I'm Sahir."

"So she told me," I replied, gesturing at Dhara. "You're the leader of... this group?"

"I'm the founder," he said, nodding. "And any are welcome to join, so long as you don't mind living a life of moving from place to place and sleeping in a wagon." He gestured to the caravans.

I laughed lightly. "Well, Dhara seems to think it's wonderful."

"Many do, after the lives they've lived," he replied. "Do you come from around here originally?"

I shook my head. "I grew up in a village on the coast. No idea how to get back there, though it's probably better that I don't try. It might be awkward for my family if I were to show up all these years later."

He cocked an eyebrow. "And why's that?"

I frowned. "Well, you see, my parents sold me as a slave when I was only twelve."

His eyes widened, and he sat back slowly. "Tell me what happened."

I stared at him for a moment, debating his trustworthiness, and then I opened my mouth and began to talk. The words came more easily than I expected as I told Sahir about my blissful but poverty-stricken childhood, the two wealthy looking men who showed up at my parents' home one day to make them an offer, and how my father handed me over to them without batting an eye, only asking me to be good for the men. I told him about the horrors that followed, the beatings and the man at the temple who took me time and time again in an attempt to subdue me. By the time I reached the present day part of my story, I was choking back tears.

Sahir had listened wordlessly to my story, nodding occasionally; now he reached over and gave my shoulders a squeeze. "It's over now, Rosette," he whispered. "That part of your life, it's finished. You're free."

I bit my lip and nodded as I stared into the fire, then beyond it. It seemed that in the time it had taken for me to tell Sahir my story, everyone else had wandered off to bed.

"And that means you can do whatever you desire with your life," he continued, his blue eyes boring into me. "You can stay with us or go your own way, you can find work that you love, you can marry and have a family of your own..." He gave me a small, wry smile. "The possibilities are endless."

I nodded, my head spinning at his suggestions. "I... I haven't really thought about it," I admitted. "I just assumed I'd always be stuck in the temple. But another job, well, that would be lovely. Though I don't think I'm interested in getting married."

"No?" He cocked his head to the side. "You don't wish to find love?"

"It's not that," I replied, turning to look into the fire again. "It's that, well, I've spent so many years letting men do whatever they like to me, being at the mercy of their desires. If I were to be married, I'd have to return to that, only it would be with just one man instead of many."

"You think that's what marriage would be like? Letting a man take advantage of you without any care for your desires?"

"My desires?" I frowned.

He sighed. "Clearly you've no idea how these things are meant to be, Rosette. Sex is meant to be enjoyable for all parties involved."

I turned and stared at him. "It... is?"

"Absolutely." He sat back and eyed me for a few seconds, seeming to be pondering something, then straightened up and met my gaze. "I could show you, if you wanted."

"Show me?" My eyes narrowed. "You mean... take me to bed with you?"

He nodded, his gaze not leaving mine.

"But... that doesn't make sense." I felt heat rising in my cheeks. "I mean, I assume you don't believe in the Goddess. And I doubt you wish to take me as your wife, having just met me and all."

"Some people don't do it for those reasons," he explained. "Some do it not as an act of worship, or as a bond between a husband and wife, but simply because it feels good."

I felt the blush in my cheeks deepen. "But it doesn't feel good."

"That's exactly the point I'm trying to make," Sahir said, his voice becoming gentler. "It doesn't feel good for you because you've never experienced what it's supposed to be like."

"And you think you could show me what it's supposed to be like?"

"I could," he replied, nodding. "I don't want you to fear falling in love one day, and so long as you believe that this cannot be enjoyable for you, you will likely continue to be afraid. But I'll only do it if you want me to. You've had enough men force themselves on you, I don't want to be another."

I stared at him uncertainly for a few long moments. "I... I don't know," I finally said, biting my lip.

"That's fine," he replied, nodding. "In that case I'll show you to your wagon. But the offer stands should you change your mind."

He stood up and motioned that I should follow him, and led me to a small wagon hitched to a much larger one. "I'm next door if you need anything," he said, nodding at the large wagon. He gave me a parting smile and walked away, leaving me at the door to my new abode.

A single lantern was lit inside the wagon, illuminating its furniture and patterned walls. This wagon seemed plainer than Dhara's but it was still colourful, and the blankets were warm and inviting as I slipped underneath them. I extinguished the lantern and lay back in the bed, closed my eyes. The bed felt massive to me, and the quiet was almost stifling.

Back at the temple, I'd slept on a lumpy cot in a room with a dozen other priestesses. There was always noise, either the din of the city outside our walls or the snoring and murmuring of other girls. On cold night we would climb into each other's beds and sleep huddled together for warmth. Here, I had none of these things.

Here I was utterly alone. And utterly free.

The words Sahir had said earlier echoed about in my mind. From here, I could go anywhere. But where? I had no idea who I was, what I wanted. My newfound freedom, while exciting, was also terrifying.

I shifted restlessly in bed so I was facing the small window that looked at the entrance to Sahir's wagon, the moonlight glinting off its door handle, and I found myself wishing I could sneak into his wagon and crawl into bed with him to ease my loneliness.

I probably could, I suddenly realized, recalling his strange offer.

It only took me a minute to make my decision. I hastily re-lit my lantern, pushed aside the blankets, put on my shoes and walked back outside.

The fire had been banked in the short time I'd been in bed, the camp was dark save for the moonlight and a few lights in wagon windows. Sahir's light was still on, even so my heart began to pound nervously as I knocked on his door.

He answered a moment later, his eyes widening when he saw me. He had removed his shirt, and a sweeping pattern of stars and suns and planets arced its way around his muscular torso. "Are you all right, Rosette?"

I nodded shakily. "It's just that... I've changed my mind. I'll let you take me to bed like you offered. But only if I can stay with you tonight. And only if you have some bitter leaf tea."

He stared at me for a moment, and then a wry smile worked its way onto his face. "I think that could be arranged," he said. "And of course I have the tea. I wouldn't make my offer without it."

I chuckled, relaxing slightly. "Do you make this offer to every newcomer?"

"Certainly not," he replied, his eyebrows arching in mock horror. "But it's not the first time I've made it, either." A mischievous grin flickered across his face, then faded as his eyes became solemn. "I should warn you though, Rosette, that I am a magician. And giving yourself over to a magician can have unexpected consequences."

I frowned. "Are they bad consequences?"

"Generally, no," he assured me. He extended a hand. "Come in. You must be getting chilly."

I nodded, then swallowed the lump in my throat, took Sahir's hand, and stepped inside.

***

The inside of Sahir's wagon was much like the others I'd seen, decorated with brightly coloured fabrics and elegant wooden furniture. But it was more spacious, and boasted a couple of plush armchairs as well as the standard caravan seating; and the bed at the end of the room was larger than the others I'd seen. Sahir was busying himself at the stove as I took a seat in one of the armchairs, scooping what I assumed to be bitter leaf tea into a silver pot. I watched as he filled the pot with water from a nearby barrel and placed his hand on the side. Seconds later I could hear the soft rumble of the water boiling. My eyes widened. "Did you just..."

"I told you I was a magician," he replied, shooting an amused glance over his shoulder. He poured two cups of tea and brought one to me, then settled in the other armchair with his own.

The tea was the perfect temperature for drinking despite being recently boiled, no doubt due to more of Sahir's magic. I sipped the bitter, familiar tasting liquid, noticing the lights in the wagon slowly dimming and taking on an almost bluish shade as I drank. "Now you're just showing off," I mumbled.

"No, I'm setting the mood." He drained his cup of tea as the lights turned a deep, brilliant blue. "Want to see something else I can do?"

I raised an eyebrow as I finished my own tea, and he motioned that I should stand. As I got to my feet I noticed the top button of my dress pop open, and I glanced down, surprised. Then I met his eyes, and felt the next button undo itself.

"Shall I continue?" he asked, winking.

I hesitated only briefly before nodding, and watched, wide-eyed, as my dress unbuttoned itself and slid off my body, coming to rest on the chair behind me. Then Sahir glanced down at himself and his pants vanished completely, reappearing neatly folded on the same chair. I stared at our clothes, then at his naked form, then down at my own, and let out a self-conscious laugh.

"I've heard that you don't believe yourself to be beautiful because you have no tattoos," Sahir said. He eyes travelled down my body, his expression clearly one of enjoyment, but not leering like so many other men. "You're wrong, you know."

I shifted, uncertain what to say in response. I noticed an incense burner sitting on a windowsill, and motioned at it. "Shall I light some incense?"

He shook his head. "We don't want to make this too similar to what you're accustomed to," he replied. "Tonight, Rosette, is not about ritual. We are not here to pay homage to any goddess- except, of course, yourself."

My eyes narrowed. "Me? A goddess?"

"Of course." He took a step forward and knelt before me, his piercing blue eyes not leaving my own. "I will show you that you are worthy of pleasure, and you, I hope, will grant me your brilliance as I commune with you."

My mouth fell open at his use of the catechism. It felt blasphemous and wrong, yet also somehow liberating. Dhara's right, I found myself thinking. No true goddess would command her daughters to endure what I have.

"Do you invite me into your communion?" Sahir asked, his gaze still on me.

I nodded slowly, then reached out and placed a hand on his head, watching it disappear into his mass of curls. "I do."

"Then let us be one." He smiled as he stood, then extended a hand to me and pulled me to my feet. "Lie down on the bed, on your stomach for now, and get comfortable."

"My stomach?" My eyes narrowed. "What are you going to do with me on my stomach?"

"Nothing shocking, don't worry." His grin widened, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "You're clearly tense, and I want to help you relax."

I gave him a slow, uncertain nod, then climbed onto the bed and lay face down, as he'd requested. The lights shifted from blue to violet as I relaxed into the quilt. I felt Sahir's weight settle onto the bed a moment later, glancing down I saw that he was positioned near my feet. "Close your eyes," he told me, "and breathe deeply."

I did as I was told, my heart thrumming in my chest, every sense on edge. For what felt like a good minute there was no sensation, then I felt his strong hand slip under my right foot. Slowly he began to massage the sole of my foot, his thumbs pressing firmly into the arch, then the heel, then the ball. I giggled softly as he pulled on my toes one by one, then rotated my ankle. After a few minutes he switched to the other foot, giving it the same treatment.

His hands moved upwards, pressing firmly into my calves, his fingers moving in circles against my flesh. My skin tingled under his touch. He was gentler with the backs of my knees, only softly touching them with his thumbs before carrying on to my thighs.

When he reached the point where my hands rested against my thighs he moved outwards, massaging each hand in a manner similar to the feet, then tracing patterns up my arms, his touch gentle but firm. I felt my body beginning to relax, but my mind remained alert, tense. What he was doing certainly felt nice, but I was still not sure what it had to do with sex.

His hands worked their way into my hair next, and I was surprised to feel him undoing my braid and running his fingers through my locks. He had positioned himself so he was sitting on my lower back, his knees pressed firmly against my hips. I felt him begin to harden against me as he worked, but he made no move to satisfy his desire.

I let out an audible groan as he began to massage my neck and shoulders; I hadn't realized until now just how tense I was. "Relax," he whispered, letting out a soft chuckle.

"I... I'm trying," I gasped. I breathed in deeply, willing my body to surrender, to allow his strong hands to slowly work out the knots in my shoulder muscles. He moved down my back, pressing intricate patterns into the muscles of my back with his fingertips. Then he ventured lower, his hands tracing the outsides of my spine, then caressing my buttocks and upper thighs. He let his hand slip between my legs a few times as he worked, and a shiver went through me. I could feel my insides beginning to tingle, I was starting to understand what this had to do with sex.

Seeming satisfied with his work he stretched out and lay prone on top of me, his weight on top of me strangely comforting. He was firmly positioned between my legs now, pressing into me, but still he made no move to enter me. Instead he lay still, breathing deeply, occasionally planting a feathery kiss on the back of my shoulder. My heart was pounding again, but this time it was not from nervousness.

"Turn over," he whispered in my ear as he climbed off of me.

The lights seemed to have dimmed even further as I rolled over, faint purple-red light flickered off the contours of his face, the muscles of his torso, and his very obvious erection. He had moved down to my feet again and was repeating the technique he'd used before, massaging my feet, then working slowly up my legs. He carried on to my hands and arms once again, his fingers moving in delicate patterns against my skin, snaking upwards to my shoulders and neck. When he reached my face he ran his thumb gently across my cheekbone and down the side of my jaw, then bent down and kissed my forehead, then my cheek. Then, with his lips inches from mine, he paused and whispered, "May I?"

I nodded, suddenly breathless, and he pressed his lips to my own, first kissing me gently, then furiously. His hands worked their way into my hair again, his tongue traced circles on my lips. The shiver that had coursed through me earlier returned, more intense this time. I had never before been kissed on the lips; this was strictly forbidden in temple rituals. I felt my lower regions began to swell, I was certain that I was very wet between my legs by now.

And I was definitely beginning to understand how this could feel good.

After what felt like several minutes he pulled back and looked down at me, a smile playing on his lips. Then his lips grazed my neck, brushed against my collarbone. He was using his lips as much as his hands now, I noticed. His fingers drew spiralling patterns around my breasts as he planted a series of kisses diagonally across my torso, then his hands moved lower as his mouth found my breast, his tongue moving in gentle circles around the nipple. Then he shifted, planting feathery kisses on my bellybutton, my hips, my inner thighs.

I nearly jumped at the unexpected sensation as his mouth settled between my legs, his tongue making a quick, flicking motion. "What... what are you doing?" I gasped.

"Licking you," he replied, pulling away slightly. "Or did you not know about this?"

I shook my head. On occasion during my time in the temple I'd experienced moments of vague pleasure during my duties, but it had never been as direct, or intense, as this. He let out a low chuckle in response. "Well then lie back, my dear. You're in for a good time."

I obeyed and his mouth found its target again, his tongue first flicking against me, then making tiny circles. I let out a soft moan as small but definite waves of pleasure began to course through me. I had no idea my body could do this.

The feeling of something swelling inside of me increased, the ripples of pleasure intensified as he continued to work his magic with his tongue. It felt as if I were an instrument he was playing, and our song was growing, nearing its crescendo. Before we could reach it he pulled away though, and then was working his way back up my body, kissing my thighs, playing with my breasts, drawing patterns with his tongue on my neck. Then his lips were on mine again, his hands raking through my hair. I felt him settle between my legs, his hardness pressing against me once again, and I realized that I wanted him to enter me.

Desperately.

As if reading my mind, he pulled away and met my eyes, his face hardly visible in the faint purple light. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." My whisper was urgent, and he laughed softly at my tone. Then he arched his hips forward ever so slightly, and I moaned again as he slid effortlessly into me. I heard him let out a satisfied gasp of his own.

His arms made their way behind my head, cradling me as he slid in and out of me. His thrusts were gentle at first, almost hesitant, and after the first dozen or so I met his eyes and gasped out one word. "Harder."

He ceased his movement and raised his eyebrows. "Harder?" he whispered.

I nodded eagerly. "I'm not a china doll, you know. I can take it."

He let out a throaty laugh in response. Then his hands wound their way into my hair once more, his fists closing around the long locks, and he plunged into me hard, and deep. I let out a gasp that was part surprise, part pleasure.

He found a new, faster pace, and I found myself reciprocating his rhythm, moving my hips in sync with his as we slid together, then apart, then together again. I wrapped my arms around his frame, dug my fingernails into his back, let my hands wander into his wild hair. Thrills coursed through me with every thrust, and for a brief moment I found myself hoping that he would let me be with him again so that I could worship him; so that I could press my lips against his neck, draw circles on his thighs with my fingertips, take him into my mouth. Then the thought was lost to the intensity of the present, tucked away with all my other memories. All the years of pain were falling away; in fact it seemed that his touch was healing me, his light coursing through my body and breaking up the darkness I'd lived in for so long.