Priestess's Tale

She lay on the carpeted floor, tied hand and foot. The thick blindfold prevented her from seeing any sort of light. She had no idea where she was, or who brought her here. Yet again she fought against the panic that was rising in her like a sick tide; before she could stop herself she struggled yet again against the hard leather and rope that bound her until she could get her breathing under control and relax again. Flashes of memory crossed her mind...of leaving work and going to the grocery, the darkness of midwinter blanketing the buildings and road in shadows. Being slightly annoyed at the black SUV that was following too closely and blinding her with its halogen headlights in her rearview mirror. Getting even more annoyed when another SUV cut in front of her. Wondering idly why the annoyances decided they needed groceries too. Stepping out of her car and feeling hands grab her from behind...whirling around in time to get a glimpse of several figures before the sting of the needle slid into her arm and everything went black...

Why me, she thought. She didn't work for the government or any top-secret corporation; she was just a low-level assistant at a small accounting firm that handled retirees' pensions and trust funds. Her mind raced as to what these faceless men wanted with her and came up with nothing. A dry, cynical part of her brain laughed as the thought of rape came to mind; her middle-aged body was not likely to inspire this level of planning and execution for simple sex. As she struggled involuntarily again, more from frustration at the unsolved mystery than out of fear, she heard the first sound in the room since she woke up from her drugged sleep.

A soft footfall coming closer to her...a whisper of cloth and then a faint smell of well-kept leather. She immediately froze; the first thought in her head was to pretend to still be asleep. A masculine chuckle rang out, very close to her ear. Whoever it was was kneeling down next to her. The next second, she felt a hand on her shoulder, rolling her over from her side to her back.

"Here now, sit up. You need some water." The same hand scooped her up under her shoulder blades and lifted her so that she could sit with her bound ankles tucked up under her. The anonymous man made a clucking sound, then she froze as she heard the unmistakable snick of a knife blade being opened. Before she could stop herself she started to shake and cry...she didn't want to die this way, for some unknown reason in an unknown place, never to be found again. He didn't say a word but she felt his hands holding her ankles steady, and the knife blade working through the knotted ropes to part them and let her sit more comfortably.

"There there...no need for the dramatics, girl. You aren't going to be hurt....much...," the cool, dry voice murmured as a bottle was pressed against her lips and she was urged to drink. Cold, clean water flooded her mouth, and she drank greedily for a few seconds before the bottle was pulled away. "Not too much at first, or you'll get sick. And I don't think you'd want that, now would you? Try to stand up, we need to get you cleaned and ready." The strong hands gently pulled her upright and steadied her as initial vertigo took hold of her. When she stopped wobbling, the hands led her firmly and surely for many steps. She thought she went through a doorway and down a hall but the echoes were playing tricks with her perception. Then she went through another door and into a larger room. Her shoes clicked on the tile floor. The snick of the knife blade sounded again, and she froze as she felt the cold steel press against the skin of her throat, parting the material of her shirt and ripping down. The unknown man methodically cut her clothes away, bending to remove her shoes before he pushed the remnants of her skirt, panties and hose down and off.

He gently pushed her backwards, and she could feel the large grilled drain under her bare feet as he lifted her still bound hands over her head to fasten them to some sort of hook. She could hear the clink of chain as she swayed, slightly off balance. Suddenly, sprays of warm water coursed over her body, coming from many different directions. The warmth felt so good that she let out a small mew of appreciation as her body started to relax. The man started scrubbing her down with a soft cloth and delicately scented soap, and she actually started to purr as she felt clean again. His fingers grazed against the bottom of her breasts as he washed her, then traced down her belly to coax her legs farther apart and wash her there. He made a clucking noise again when his fingers ran through her thick pubic hair, and she reflexively tried to shut her legs to preserve her dignity. A sharp slap on her bottom made her squeal with shock as he murmured, "No no, none of that...accept and obey girl..." His fingers slid deeper, opening her body to his inspection. She started to cry as his finger slipped inside her. The touch was so impersonal that it made her feel even more violated. As quickly as the finger intruded, it withdrew, and the man kept washing the rest of her body. When he was done and the water was turned off, he roughly towelled her dry and then rubbed a strange-smelling oil into her skin. It made her want to sneeze and shiver at the same time; she was sure she had smelled something like it before, but she couldn't place the scent.

After the man combed and dried her hair, he led her back out, this time without her clothes. She felt the thick pile of the carpet beneath her feet, interspersed every now and then with cold, slick tiles of what seemed to be marble. He stopped her on one such section and unfastened the leather cuffs from each other. The kiss of thick velvet brushed against her thigh as he drew the heavy robe up to her shoulders, helping her hands find the sleeves on either side. He refastened her hands in front of her. She felt him move past her, and then heard doors creak on their hinges as they opened. A firm hand on the small of her back propelled her forward, and the doors clicked shut behind her.

She stood there in silence, trying to figure out where the man had gone. She hadn't felt him move past her through the doorway, so she concluded that she was alone in this new room. She stood stock-still for a heartbeat, then swiftly raised her hands and yanked off the blindfold. Her eyes immediately teared up from the sudden light that hit them; as she blinked rapidly, she tried to take in her surroundings to get her bearings. Thoughts of flight raced through her head...she could get out of this. As her vision cleared, she started looking for another door out of the room. She was certain that the man who brought her here was still out in the hallway; she couldn't run that way. She was brought up short in her search, however, by the utter strangeness of the room.

It was a perfectly square room. No windows opened on the walls. Long, low benches, covered with cushions, lined the sides of the room. Clusters of candelabras were placed here and there around the room. All the candles were lit, casting dancing shadows around the edges. Straight ahead, at the far side of the room from her, was what could only be called a throne, sitting upon a low dais. But instead of the normal red velvet and gold gilt, this chair was of black and silver, and instead of lion's heads for armrests, there were snarling demons. Alarm bells started going off in her head...and then she saw the altar.

What she had dismissed as a large table before now took on a whole different and sinister meaning. The altar was exactly square, just as the room was, and was fitted with black and white support columns at each corner. She slowly walked closer to get a better look at the inscriptions graven into the marble altar top. She couldn't decipher what was written but she recognized the language. It was Enochian, supposed "language of angels", and commonly used by ceremonial magicians for less than angelic purposes. Shocked and sickened, she noticed all the other sigils and seals around the room...the marks of a sanctum sanctorum, a Magician's lair.

"I'm glad you find my altar attractive...want to see it up close?" The voice, deep and rich, spoke from behind her. She spun around to face the newcomer, and her eyes widened in shocked recognition. She knew this man, she had met him countless times. He seemed to always be in the small metaphysical bookstore she shopped at, conversing with patrons and debating esoterica with the store owner. He had seemed relatively harmless, always dressing in casual shirts and jeans that were worn enough to make him look vaguely blue-collar. Yet here he was, dressed in robes with symbols that she had seen only in the more unsavory magickal texts embroidered on the sleeves and hem. Other figures, clad in deep scarlet, streamed in through the open doors before they were shut again from the outside. Incense started to thicken in the air and low rhythmic chanting set her teeth vaguely on edge. She knew she should try to make a break for it, but when she tried to move her legs would only sluggishly shuffle forward.

"Seems the herbs I infused the body oil with are working. They have another interesting side effect, did you know? They serve to heighten sensation. You will feel everything magnified a dozen-fold." He started walking towards her.

"Why...why me..." She croaked, her throat closing with fear. She stumbled backwards as she tried to move away from his approach. Her head reeled from the drugs and the thick incense and she tottered over, falling to her knees as he closed the distance between them. Looking up with eyes that were becoming more and more unfocused, she could see him holding something out for her inspection. She blinked rapidly and finally focused on the shining object...it was her amulet, her Goddess symbol, that they had taken from her when she was unconscious.

"Such a quaint little trinket. I'm sure you'll want it back after I'm finished with you. For now, however, I have a much better adornment for my fallen Goddess..." From the folds of his robes he drew forth a wide black band. It looked to be made of supple leather, and was embossed and engraved with eldritch symbols along with a large silver buckle. She tried to move and dodge him as he reached forward and wrapped the thing around her throat, but he simply chuckled and moved with her, encircling her neck with the collar and swiftly buckling it at the back of her neck. Her skin crawled as she instinctively opened herself to the energies of the collar; she could feel the alien, dark magics stealing her will to resist. The full magnitude of her predicament came upon her and she started to gather the remnants of her focus to try and ward off any further intrusion upon her inner magical barriers.

He stepped away from her and watched, his eyes gleaming, as she struggled. He started to smile as she murmured chants and incantations for calling her Goddess avatar to come to her aid. When she paused, gasping and sagging down onto her heels on the floor, he actually laughed.

"Good try, priestess. Keep that up, the energy you are raising will be of use later in the ritual....but not any use for you I'm afraid." He motioned, and two of the other robed figures picked her up off the floor and lifted her effortlessly onto the altar top, carefully arranging her robe before moving to stand at her head and foot. The Magician came around to the throne side of the altar and started chanting in a language that she didn't understand. It must have been a type of liturgy, because every so often the red-robed acolytes would chant a response before the man would continue.

Then, from his belt, the man drew a short, broad-bladed and double-edged dagger. At that same instant, the acolytes at her head and foot grabbed her hands and feet and held her completely immobile. The drugs had taken hold of her fully and she didn't think she could flee even if she wasn't being held down. All she could do was silently cry as the fear crested, full and hot, in her chest. She fully expected to feel the cold steel of the blade plunge into her heart and end her life. All the blade did at the moment was slice down the front of her robe, parting the velvet like it was made of spiderwebs and exposing her naked flesh. He continued cutting as the acolytes pulled bits of the robe away from her, until she was lying with her bare skin against the cold marble of the altar top. She started to shiver with the cold and realized that he had told her the truth, that the drugs were heightening all that she felt. As her teeth started to chatter, she kept her mind from envisioning how much worse her ordeal was going to get.

When she next focused on what was going on around her, she saw that the Magician had a large silver goblet that he was chanting over. He brought it close to her face; she could smell the fumes of strong wine and herbs that the chalice held. The dagger flashed again and a snippet of her hair was dropped into the goblet. His fingers reached out and stroked across her cheek before coming to rest on her lips. "Open your mouth Goddess..." She tried with all her might to keep her lips shut, but the slightest pressure of his fingertips and her jaws relaxed, and then he was dipping his finger in the chalice after wetting it with her saliva.

He set the chalice aside and brought forward a bowl made of obsidian that was filled with a truly noxious-smelling mixture. "Now to anoint you as you deserve, so that you will be a fitting sacrifice.." His fingers again traced over her skin, trailing the cold red fluid over her skin in swirls and patterns. Across her forehead, down the sides of her neck, tracing between her breasts to slither over her belly, then down her legs and the tops of her feet. She was covered in symbols that made her skin crawl with the dark energy they exuded. He turned away from her then, and she entertained a fleeting hope that this was it, he was done with her defilement and had harvested enough of her fear and pain to fuel whatever heretical working he was attempting. But when he turned back and she saw what he had for her, she realized just how wrong she was.

On both hands he had fitted what looked to be silver claws. They sparkled in the candlelight, the razor-sharp edges of each claw glittering. "Now, let's see if this Goddess bleeds..." He murmured as he reached out for her. She let out a weak cry as the first nail traced a straight line down her upper arm. He was careful, only parting the top layer of skin and letting out a thin red line of blood rather than cutting too deeply. The pain was excruciating; she felt like each cut was being licked by a fiery tongue. The pain actually started taking on a life and pulse of its own, linked to her own heartbeat. As he traced and swirled down her body, across her breasts and belly as he followed the patterns he had drawn on her before, the pain pushed her into uncharted territory in her own psyche. She could feel herself succumbing to the siren-song of pain, letting it into her very core as a power all on its own. As he drew symbols into her very flesh, she let out the first moan and was shocked to find that her body was writhing not in pain, but in need.

He looked up at her, his eyes locking onto hers as he paused. "And now we see that this Goddess has a dark side...welcome to the other side of magick little priestess..." One hand slid up the inside of her thigh. A twist of his finger and she actually screamed; he had driven the point of one claw into her vaginal opening, piercing her right at the mouth of her womanhood.

"It's not virgin's blood, but it will do..." He smiled coldly and reached again for the chalice, holding it up so she could see the cup and his finger, with a large drop of her dark blood taken from the root of her womanhood. He shook his finger and the droplet fell into the chalice. The acolytes chanted louder then fell silent as he motioned for them to withdraw. When the last acolyte had left the sanctum and the door was shut behind them, the Magician reached out and raised her off the altar, pulling her forward. She fell to her knees, the shallow cuts on her shins burning and throbbing as they rubbed on the floor. He reached out and grabbed her hair, pulling her head back so that she had to look up at him.

"Drink, Goddess....share this communion with me..." He pressed the rim of the chalice against her lips. Her stomach heaved as she thought of what was really in that cup, but her lips parted and the altered wine spilled into her mouth. She swallowed before she could stop herself. He let out a soft laugh and took a large sip himself before putting the chalice aside.

"You are now bound to me, priestess. You could be a thousand miles away, and if I called you would come to me. I hold your heart in my hand." He reached down and pulled her up hard against him, his mouth coming down to hers. His kiss was a violation, a taking of her breath and her remaining will to resist him. The wine burned in her belly. As drops of blood traced crimson trails down the insides of her thighs from where he pierced her, she shook as the fever of both drugs and dark magick took her and burned away the last of her will to resist. Her body pressed against his; even through the robe she could feel his heat warming her cold skin. She gasped once, then relaxed and almost collapsed into his embrace.

Her fingers scrambled to find the opening in his robes, so she could feel his naked skin against hers. He let out a low laugh of triumph and arrogant dominance and bent her back down onto the altar, his robe falling open to expose his hardness as he picked her legs up. He grabbed her ankles with one hand with a strength that surprised then terrorized her, and lifted her legs straight up from her body. She could feel him, his hardness pressing against the burning wound of her pierced lip. His eyes, glowing with pale fire, gazed down into hers as he paused, then thrust hard into her with one stroke. She screamed at the combination of pain and ecstasy that seared through her body. He held himself within her for a heartbeat, then started savagely taking her. His eyes never left hers, the psychic connection growing with each thrust into her body. She felt the swirling pleasure growing in her belly, spreading out to her limbs as the fire grew. She never blinked as he ravaged her body, even as her own orgasm grew and exploded through her consciousness, a dark star in full nova. At the height of it she heard his primal growl building to a roar as he spilled his hot seed deep within her.

She moved faster than she thought she could...one hand reached down and scooped up the fluids that had gathered at the junction of their bodies. Her blood, essence and his seed coated her fingers as she brought it up and touched his forehead, sealing the silent spell that she had been chanting since he first threw her on the altar. His eyes, that had been half-closed in sated lust, flew open in disbelief for just a second, before they filmed over as she took back all the magick he has raped from her. She contempuously pushed him off her and he crumpled to the floor. She stood slowly, reaching up and ripping the collar of her defilement off her neck. She leaned down and plucked her amulet from within his robes and hung it around her neck where it belonged. He looked up at her once, his eyes squinting and his body involuntarily flinching back from her. She knew what he saw, and he had every reason to be afraid.

"Little man, did you really think the Goddess had only one face....She is both the bright full moon and the dark of the moon, and nothing can take away Her power." The priestess, now clad in her magick, turned and slowly walked from the room.