Page 16 of Enslaved By Magic

Chapter 7

(Amari)

Amari sat curled up on the couch lost in thought for a long time after Luke went to bed. She hadn’t intended to sit there for so long. It was much more pleasant in her bottle. Anything she could want was in there, waiting for her; all the comforts of home, which was something Luke’s house lacked.

He didn’t pay much attention to his surroundings and it showed. Everything he owned was utilitarian. There was nothing decorative or pretty, and some might say it lacked a woman’s touch. She’d been tempted to spend some of his money on flowers to brighten up the place, but the moment the idea popped into her head she dismissed it.

She wasn’t his woman. Not his girlfriend or wife—she was his slave and that was that. There was a purpose to seducing him. Anything that would give her some kind of power over him so she could finally put an end to her eternal captivity was worth trying, but there wasn’t a chance that some pretty throw pillows or a table runner would do anything to pull him under her sway.

It was disturbing how often the idea of making things a little homier returned, though. It was actually upsetting she kept thinking about him at all. With the others, she would return to her bottle the moment she was allowed, and there she would luxuriate in the beauty it created for her. She was never bored inside her own little world. It was endlessly entertaining, and when mindless fun palled, there were other ways to pass the time.

With so many years at her disposal, she’d learned to keep herself occupied by studying as well as mastering dozens of skills with whatever materials she needed being dispensed by the bottle. Where talent was lacking, time could provide the endless practice needed to at least become competent, so she could make his house a home. Of course, bottle materials didn’t transfer outside easily; she suspected they were mostly made of illusion, but she could knit a blanket for the couch for just the price of yarn. With some inexpensive paints she could decorate the walls—but why would she want to.

That was what she didn’t understand. Why did she care if his empty little box of a house looked nice? Men were ruled by their hunger. So, home-cooked meals, yes, those could win a man over. Cleaning, so he didn’t have to? Certainly, saving him work would put him in a good mood, but decorating wouldn’t benefit either of them—yet the desire was there.

There were other kinds of cravings that had been affecting her too. Sexual heat was best kept inside her bottle where she could be provided with dream lovers who satisfied her exactly the way she wanted. But since meeting Luke, she’d felt a stirring when she looked at him. He was handsome, with that adorable dimple at the side of his mouth, but it wasn’t that. She’d learned a handsome face could hide an evil soul and wasn’t fooled by beauty anymore.

It was his eyes maybe—they were deep brown, framed by thick sooty lashes that any woman would be jealous of, and they looked kind. They hadn’t seemed cold even when he’d been annoyed at her. Even when he’d grabbed her…

She felt her cheeks heating with embarrassment as she thought about the scene in the kitchen. That more than anything should have turned her away from her new master and allowed her to put up a wall, but instead it had done the opposite, and she didn’t really understand why. It made no sense to her. She wasn’t even angry or resentful about it, but she felt like she should be.

She’d suffered before, accepting physical torment at the hands of people who had owned her bottle because she had no choice. There were those who treated her like an appliance, making their wishes and passing her on without ever even considering using her in other ways. But then there were those who wanted to take advantage of her subjugation, and she couldn’t say no because she’d consented to it when she was bound to the bottle, and she’d known exactly what she was signing up for.

She knew things had changed. In this modern world women had more choices and husbands were no longer picked for them. They were free to love who they liked and the idea of that was a novelty to her. She suspected a woman of this age wouldn’t have been able to handle the things she’d been through quite as easily as she had, but then they had different expectations for their lives.

She’d never enjoyed any of it obviously. She’d simply endured. Her submission to save her family; that was the price. She couldn’t regret it, not when she knew he’d kept his word and given them a good life. But despite the glimpses the bottle had given her, allowing her to watch her family thrive until the natural end of their lives, she would never stop being bitterly resentful that she’d been tricked into lifetimes of servitude.

Each twist of fate, each new hand that brought her to heel was just another step in the path she had to travel to her freedom, but now she’d hit a bump in the road and was in danger of stumbling. This man, Luke, was different from the others. She didn’t trust him not to change once the greed kicked in, they always did, but for now he treated her with respect, like a woman and not a tool to be used. It was frustrating to find herself liking him so much when it would only make it harder later when he turned out like the others.

She should have been angry he’d spanked her, but she wasn’t even though it was partly his own fault she’d been able to trick him. Usually, she wasn’t given enough freedom to enact any kind of revenge, and she couldn’t help but take advantage of the latitude he’d given her. But to be fair, she had played a mean trick on him, and she didn’t blame him for being angry over it, especially when it had been so obvious it had been done on purpose. Fair was fair; she burned his mouth; he burned her backside. Fine, then they were even.

Only no one had ever done that to her. Not in all the years she’d been chained to her bottle had anyone pulled her across their lap and punished her like that, and she didn’t know quite what to think of it. His hand slapping down across the seat of her jeans had felt like such a personal thing. It was oddly invasive and the memory of it kept popping back into her head.

It had been childish, and yet, somehow not. She was still embarrassed, but her body was reacting in unexpected ways to what was meant to be punishment. There was an interesting itchy sensation centered on each ass cheek, and every time she squirmed, it seemed to spread in a direct line to her core in a way that was almost pleasurable. Was it just because it was the first time he’d deliberately touched her? Admittedly, there had been some lustful thoughts about her new master, so maybe it was only that, but it lingered long after he went to bed.

Could it be that it was the spanking itself? She’d never considered herself a masochist before, and it certainly would have come in handy over the years, but she’d never had these kinds of feelings before either. Not for someone who held power over her. Not for someone who controlled her life.

She glanced over at the bottle and considered pouring herself inside so it could heal her. Maybe if the burning heat was soothed away, she could stop thinking about it. But she stayed where she was. For some reason she couldn’t decipher, she was in no rush to have the effects of the spanking removed.

When she did finally retire to her bottle, she didn’t ask for relief, even though he’d given her permission. Maybe specifically because he’d given permission. She did tend to be stubborn like that, but she had a feeling it was different this time. The throbbing sting was already fading anyway, and for a wonder, she was half-sad it hadn’t lasted longer until she realized it wasn’t leaving, it was just shifting, changing into something else. A liquid heat suffused her body, waking her nerve endings and causing her nipples to tighten. She knew her panties were damp; they had been for a while and she’d ignored it because she didn’t understand it.

But there was no point in continuing to do that now. Instead, she called a fantasy lover to her bed to satisfy the ardor Luke had inadvertently raised in her body. It helped, in a purely physical way, but somehow it didn’t ease the lust that had built. The handsome spirit man did everything she requested as he attempted to bring her to climax, but for the first time, his attentiveness didn’t seem like enough. She did come, eventually, but felt no better afterward, and she dismissed him with an irritated wave of her hand. It was rare that her bottle failed her.

It was Luke she wanted, not a pretty fantasy. She wanted him to grab her like he had in the kitchen but for a reason other than punishment. Or maybe the spanking part was okay too, as long as there was more when it was over. The bottle provided her with sexy illusions who doted on her almost to the point of groveling because that’s what she needed to wipe away the bitter taste of her forced submission—but now, suddenly, she could picture kneeling for a man voluntarily.

For this one man—if.

If he was as kind as he seemed to be. If he didn’t change when he finally believed the nearly unlimited power he could control with his wishes. If he kept his promise and freed her with the last wish, proving that he deserved her willing submission.

Amari rarely changed her mind once her course was set in motion. That stubbornness had kept her on the path through every change that had rocked her world, but now she wavered. She could be a good girl and wait to see what happened, but only an idiot would just sit there and wait for a man to keep his promises. After being betrayed so many times, she was no longer that naïve girl so easily lied to. She needed to be smart about this, and she needed to control the situation.

Instead of putting aside her plan to seduce and wrap him around her little finger, she would redouble her efforts—one way or another she was going to see an end to her bondage. Secretly, in the deepest part of her heart, she held on to the hope that Luke would be the one to stay true to himself and keep his word without needing a push, but the more practical part of her would be in control until she knew.

Sleep wasn’t necessary for her anymore, but it was a good way for her to wind down and get out of her thoughts for a while, so she slept. When she woke up the next morning, there were no residual effects of the spanking, and when she checked in the mirror, there wasn’t even the slightest bit of pink left. It was oddly disappointing.

Luke had already left when she finally emerged from the bottle. The house was quiet, and she turned on the television to provide some background noise. She thought it was ridiculous the number of channels people had to choose from these days, but she did enjoy the music channels in all their variety. They provided the soundtrack for the daily chores she’d assigned herself to keep busy.

First, she cleaned; an easy task since Luke didn’t make much of a mess. Then she went on the computer to learn new things for a couple of hours. She enjoyed the research and it never ceased to amaze her how much the world had changed in the nearly thirty years she’d been locked away. She was limited on how far from the house she could go, but with the Internet, she could see things all over the world, and she often lost track of time as she explored. It took a lot of willpower to shut it down when she realized the morning was passing quickly.

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