The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Gemma Chapman positively loved her summer job. The bookshop was a treasure trove of information that kept her mind alive in the boredom and isolation of the little country village in which she lived. It had just about everything with sections from popular pulp fiction to classics to reference to art and it even had a section for rare and valuable books both new and second hand, many of which were limited editions and quite rare. The shop was hidden away down an alley off the High Street near the village green, and was a bit like the old curiosity shop with its rows of tiny oblong windows and a door that sounded a bell out back every time a customer came by.

At school, which she had left only a few weeks before, she was always reading about history, politics and current events; a fact which had made her very popular with the staff at St Augustine’s School for Girls, but not so much with her fellow pupils. Even if they were in ignorance of the fact that to supplement her academic reading, Gemma often found refuge under her duvet at night in the pages of bonkbuster chick novels, trashy horror and the Black Lace range of erotica for girls.

At just eighteen years of age Gemma was extremely pretty. At 5′9″ in her bare feet she was slim with longish brown hair and a winning smile. When she looked at herself in the mirror she was generally quite pleased with herself, slim long legs gave way gracefully to a ballet dancers bottom, flat stomach and a pair of breasts which were not all too big but neither were they all too small. Their cute, dark rose tips were still youthfully upturned and many a time she had closed her eyes and imagined that her nipples were this way because they just begging to be kissed. Between her legs she hadn’t yet gone all the way to smooth, yet, but instead she kept a neatly trimmed landing strip that curved down and round over her lush, prominent mound that as yet had never been fully explored by anyone, male at least.

She still however carefully cultivated a very prim and proper exterior. St Augustine’s had been very strict on such matters and insisted on the wearing of uniform at all times and a close adherence to the school rule book. Consequently the hot summer afternoon saw her still unconsciously keeping to the old regime and her work outfit was made up of a smart white shirt and knee length black skirt, with blue woolen tights and flat court shoes, although underneath nothing but a tiny scrap of delicate white raw silk covered her well concealed modesty.

Most of her customers were regulars from the village and business was mostly pretty quiet during the summer months which gave her the chance to expand her literary horizons pretty much every time she wished. This afternoon was no different and today’s entertainment was a novel called The Unbearable Lightness of Being by a Czech author called Milan Kundera. The story was basically a story about existentialist philosophy and the love between a doctor and a young girl in Prague set around the time of the Russian invasion, and it was fascinating.

Gemma was deep into the story when it suddenly occurred to her that the door bell hadn’t sounded in quite a long time, yet she had the strangest feeling that she wasn’t alone in the shop. She looked up, glanced around and as she expected she was alone. The feeling however didn’t disappear, and when she looked up a second time and turned her head towards the shop window there was still nobody there. Just for a split second though she thought she saw movement out of the corner of her eye and though she had not actually seen anybody, she could have sworn that a tall dark haired man in along black coat had just passed the shop window. And she had the distinct impression that somebody had been looking at her through the window as she read.

Just why this thought occurred to her she couldn’t say. Who could it have been? Certainly nobody from the village who looked like that came to mind. She eased herself off the stool behind the counter, put down her book and walked over to the window. Only a few seconds had passed since she the feeling of being watched had come over her. There was nobody there. Shrugging her shoulders she went back to the ongoing relationship between the philandering big city doctor Tomaz and his small town naïve beauty Tereza and thought nothing more of it.

An hour or so went by, and the couple in the novel were now trying to preserve both themselves, and their love, from the dark vagaries of communist occupation and oppression by heading for life in the sticks. All at once the feeling of being watched returned and this time Gemma looked up immediately. She was absolutely certain that the same dark figure had been outside the window only to turn on his heel the second Gemma had looked up and she was absolutely convinced it was the same guy in the long dark overcoat. She practically ran to the door and went outside but in the alley once again the only movement to be seen was an old paper bag rustling along the pavement in the slight breeze created by the narrow confines of the alley in the summer afternoon heat.

It was hot in the shop. The late summer afternoon was heat was becoming oppressive and looking up from her book once again Gemma wondered whether she should nip out to the loo in the back of the shop and take off her tights to cool down a little. She shifted a little on her stool and opened her legs a little. Still, not long until 5.30 she thought and I can close up, maybe I should just open the front door. The pages of the book however continued to hold her attention, which was becoming increasingly drowsy as the afternoon wore on.

Suddenly the bell in the back of the shop jangled alarmingly in the quietness, breaking the almost stifling tranquility and the door swept open, making Gemma almost jump out of her skin and her heart race in her chest. She looked up almost expecting to find a man in front of her, but instead she found herself confronted by a woman. A very beautiful woman.

The lady at the counter in front of her was probably just shy of six feet tall. Dressed in a dark formal suit of a short skirt and well cut jacket, under which she wore an open necked white blouse with an unusual wrought gold chain just visible around her throat as it wended its down into the lady’s obviously delicious cleavage. Her outfit was properly completed by a pair of obviously hand made Italian mid-heeled knee high leather boots that encased the lower half of her long dark stocking clad legs. Her extremely chic shoulder length hair of thick red curls and waves was complimented by that beautiful pale, clear and open complexion with high cheekbones and full, wide lips that only true red headed people possess. Her limpid, large deep green eyes looking out from beneath amazingly archy well maintained eyebrows. She took in Gemma for a moment, carefully appraising her perched on her stool behind the counter. In her arms she held a bundle of three or four large books.

A little intimidated Gemma put on her best smile and said brightly,

“Good afternoon, is there anything I can help you with?”

Still looking at her intently the woman gently placed her books on the counter.

“I do believe there is you know.” She replied with a smile, her eyes never leaving Gemma’s for a second. “I wonder if Mr Fortescue is available? I have some volumes here that my boss wishes to have valued and subsequently perhaps put on sale. They are from his private collection and being comparatively new to this area a friend of ours recommended we pay your shop a visit and ask for his opinion.”

The words positively purred from her mouth. The bright blue of Gemma’s eyes felt as if they were melting into the deep green steady gaze of those of her customer. Mr Fortescue was the owner of the bookshop; but with Gemma to mind the counter he was hardly ever around when she was working. In an effort to reply with any kind of professionalism Gemma tipped her head for a second and managed to reply.

“I’m so sorry. My name is Gemma.” She introduced herself. “When I’m here working he’s hardly ever around. I can however take a look at anything you wish to have valued and if you cared to leave them with me I will bring them to Mr Fortescue’s attention as soon as he comes in again. I can of course give you a receipt to acknowledge our possession of the books if you may require one. We should be able to have the books back to you by closing time tomorrow if that’s ok. I can call Mr Fortescue and let him know that that you need a valuation. Would that be ok?” Gemma stammered, she was trying to be as helpful as possible but the woman’s eyes on hers were very disconcerting.

“I think that would be entirely appropriate. However I would stress that they are of great personal consideration to my employer and as such should be treated with the utmost respect and kept secure at all times. My name is Isis by the way.”

Gemma was now concentrating on the shapes that Isis’ lips were forming as she explained that the books were volumes dealing with ancient history. Her boss was a powerful but somewhat reclusive businessman who had not long moved to the area and was a collector books and ephemera related to ancient history. The sound of her speech was becoming ever more indistinct and as Gemma looked, and became more bewildered, the shape of each syllable leaving her mouth seemed to form an ongoing series of enigmatic invitations.

What she was saying seemed to be of less and less importance, the sounds floating towards her like musical notes muffled by their passage through water. It was hot in the shop and Gemma now felt that heat. In front of her the tall red-haired lady’s hands moved breaking Gemma’s trance like state for a second, as Isis unbuttoned and slid her jacket from her shoulders.

Her eyes continued to fascinate Gemma, they seemed to be in touch with her in a way that moved her to the very core of her being. As she stared deep into the woman’s eyes the deep green seemed to begin to move, to change colour, becoming flecked with dancing gold, forming a pattern very much like a whirlpool of resonant dancing sparkles around her retinas with the dark core of her pupils at the centre.

Gemma began to shift on her chair, everything seemed different now. It was so hot in the shop that she even began to feel hot between her legs and unconsciously moved her thighs apart, one of her hands drifting down to rest on her thighs. She breathed deeply, inhaling the hot air and the scent of the woman in front of her, feeling her skin tingle and goosepimple as she did so, her nipples popping into sensitivity against the restriction of her bra. So lost was Gemma in the interior reality of the heightened sensation rippling through her body that she only gradually became aware that Isis had stopped talking and was smiling at her. Isis blinked and Gemma jumped.

“As I was saying Gemma, we’ll leave the books with you until tomorrow and hopefully we’ll be able to go from there, for now I have to leave.” With that Isis turned to go, sweeping her jacket around her shoulders once again and as Gemma’s eyes dropped down, finally released from their hold, she noticed with surprise and just for a second that Isis was not wearing anything under her shirt and that the dark circles of her erect nipples were visible and prominent, brushing against the sheer cotton. Then the bell jangled as the shop door closed and she was gone.

A little breathless and out of sorts from the effect that Isis presence had exerted on her, Gemma looked around and saw from the clock that it was nearly five thirty and definitely time to close up shop. The books were still on the counter in front of her. Quickly she dialed Mr Fortescue’s number from the shop phone and left a message with his answering service hoping he would pick it up in time to come in and give his opinion on the bundle in the morning. In the meantime she could take them home with her, where they would definitely be safe, have a good look though them overnight, and maybe do some research on what she found online in the morning when she returned to the shop. But for now, the walk home was beckoning in what was left of this beautiful summer afternoon.

Her parents lived on a farm about half an hours walk away and Gemma was fortunate enough to have her own space in a converted barn annex. Her parents were currently away on holiday at their villa in the Dordogne, so the farm would pretty much deserted this evening. She put the books from the counter in a bag and headed off for the evening. Her walk home took her out of the village and through some field footpaths.

You could reach her home by taking the bus from the village, but as her walk took her past a beautiful lake hidden in the countryside on a neighbour’s land she usually preferred to walk. It was her habit to stop off at the lake during the summer months and simply enjoy the peace and tranquility sometimes with a book to read, sometimes with a towel and her bikini. The water was a deep cool green and was bordered by trees on its far side shielding it from view and preserving knowledge of its existence from all but a very few local people.

In fact Gemma had only once shown it to few of her friends when she had taken them swimming there, and had only ever seen one other person walking their dog past its edges in all the time she had known of its existence. She sank down by the waters edge and took off her shoes, trying to make sense of the afternoons events. Strangely the memory of the effect of that Isis presence had on her had already faded from her mind, and she wondered what the books would contain when she got home. She stared dreamily at the water rippling in front of her and lost herself in the patterns of the water. It was still pretty hot. Gemma stood up still looking at the water. Her hands slid her skirt up and hooked into waistband of her tights, shucking them down over her hips with a quick wiggle of her hips.

She should have done this earlier in the shop she thought and a smile played over her lips for a second. It was definitely cooler without them. The tights lay on the grass in front of her and it took only a second before she started to unbutton her shirt. The water looked inviting, and the breeze was very pleasing against the skin of her now naked thighs. Looking around for reassurance that she was alone she dropped her blouse to the ground, reached behind her and undid the clasp of her bra. Finally her skirt followed the rest of her clothes to the grass beneath her feet and she stood naked except for her tiny panties. The warm sunshine played over her body which seemed to be more alive to sensation than it had ever, her breasts felt heavy and full, her nipples swollen. She cupped her breasts in her hands enjoying the weight of them in her hands for a second. Her belly trembled and under the tiny scrap of silk between her legs the lips of her pussy also felt engorged and the her lower lips seemed to stroke each other as she moved her weight from one leg to the other. She raised her arms and spread them out wide, stretching them outwards and upwards as she inhaled deeply while closing her eyes, almost in worship of the sun and the water and the beautiful late afternoon.

As the seconds passed she concentrated on her breathing, keeping it deep and regular, with each outward breath she almost shuddered with pleasure. Opening her eyes she stared at the lake, the colour of the water picking up the golden reflections of the sun low in the sky. It was hypnotic in its beauty. Deep green tinged with flecks of gold, she felt as if it would only take a couple of steps and she would be immersed in the vibrant cool richness of the colour. Just for a second it reminded Gemma of the colour of Isis’ eyes and the way she had felt earlier, although the thought barely registered on her consciousness. She pressed her palms against her belly and slid them downwards, separating them as she did, so that one hand slid down the back of her knickers over her bottom, the other down dreamily over her mound, letting her fingers slide between her lips as she did so, pushing her knickers off and down round her ankles.

She wasn’t at all surprised to find her fingers dripping and remained still for a second feeling the silky wet smoothness between her pussy lips almost absent mindedly, her clit so sensitive that it felt as if she might cum on the spot if she just so much as brushed her fingers against it. Stepping forward out of her panties, she stood on the edge of the water and raised her arms a second time before taking a deep breath and walking into the gorgeous fresh water.

It felt amazing as she waded in to thigh depth, the water felt somehow light, refreshing, it seemed to lap hungrily at her as she took another step forward, asking her to submerge herself in it entirely. She took another step forward and as the water rose over her mound she felt an amazing contrast of temperatures as the inner heat of her obvious arousal was bathed in the cool of the pool. She shuddered once again and dived forward in to the momentary silence beneath the waters surface, swimming a few strokes forward before breaking the surface with a gasp of breath from the sharp change in temperature. With a steady fluid breast stroke she propelled herself through the surface ripples, dipping her face between breaths as she headed for the centre of the lake a hundred yards or so distant. She reached forward with each long stroke of her arms and spreading her legs wide to follow each stroke with a kick as the water enveloped her, it felt as if it were caressing her passage through it with each movement of her body.

As she stopped, looking round from the centre of the lake, treading water to keep herself afloat, her mind seemed to clear. It felt as if here and now she was in the centre of a massive circle of existence pivoting around her; as if she was some kind of axis for the sun, sky, water and landscape, all of which were revolving around her. Pausing for a moment to take in the sheer beauty of it all, she giggled at the enormity of the thought, and struck out once again for the bank. As she emerged dripping and breathless from the lake she realized that she hadn’t even thought of not having a towel, shrugging to herself, she shook herself off and used her hands to wipe as much water from her limbs as possible, before resigning herself to walking the rest of the way home in just her skirt and shirt still damp underneath. So with the bag containing Isis books over one shoulder, her knickers and tights in the other hand, and a curious grin on her face she set off back to her barn.

Her body felt entirely refreshed from her impromptu skinny dip in the lake, and it didn’t take long before she was unhooking the gate that led into the yard of her parent’s farm and familiar security of her converted barn annex. She loved her barn, having her own space and her things around her, and dumping the bag of books on her table she pottered around for a bit, putting the kettle on for a nice cup of tea, leaving her work clothes in a pile on the bathroom floor before heading briefly into the shower and changing into a loose, floaty cotton print dress that felt good after the hot day spent in the confines of her work uniform.

The barn was the perfect space for Gemma and the envy of all of her friends, although it was only rarely that she invited people over. It was a large, airy oblong in shape with original thick stone walls. The kitchen and bathroom were next to each other at one end on the ground floor with a wooden set of steps which led to a mezzanine floor above, which was her bedroom and refuge from the world. The kitchen was separated by a breakfast bar from the main living space of the barn which held a large TV, a couple of big comfy chairs, a sofa big enough for three, a long, low coffee table, and an antique range style wood burner for warmth that you could even cook on if ever there was a power cut. There was a desk and some bookcases lining the walls on one side, but the opposing wall had the feature that Gem liked best about the barn and it was one which had been Gemma’s idea when her parents had been converting it. It was a huge window which turned the barn into a kind of great studio apartment. They had dismantled the wall leaving a huge v-shaped, floor to ceiling gap and replaced the missing stone with big paned, wooden framed glass windows that looked out over the open fields which surrounded the farm.

Sometimes on clear evenings Gemma would turn off all the interior lights and just sit and stare at the huge night sky, losing herself in its twinkling immensity. It had occurred to her though that if she could see out then people; however unlikely it might be that they were in her parents fields during the hours of darkness, could also see in. Sometimes she enjoyed this thought and consciously paraded around naked in her home, fantasizing about being secretly watched by some romantic admirer who came to gaze on her from afar, but sometimes she loved nothing better than drawing its heavy velvet drapes across the window, lighting the wood burner and curling up on the sofa in pure lucky comfort with nobody to disturb her, and as the sun had now given way to dusk, that was exactly what she intended to do.

Just like any other normal day Gemma checked her messages and her email, made herself something to eat and had a brief look at was what on TV for the evening ahead before deciding the music was probably going to be a better option. Clicking on her stereo she scrolled though the playlists on her iPod and decided on a soothing aria by Mozart that she loved as background entertainment to a peaceful evening at home. Isis books were still on the side in their bag. Gemma tipped them out and had a quick flick through their pages. Three out of the four were not really very interesting to her at least she decided. They were, she supposed, roughly 1920’s accounts of Greek and Mediterranean ancient history by gentleman explorers of the time. There were accounts of the Palace at Knossos where the Minotaur had been supposed to live in ancient times; of how Greek culture had spread to Africa and Egypt via the establishment of Carthage and Alexandria on the North African coast in the land of the Pharaohs, and depictions of the great pyramids at Giza that must have been of great interest to people back then, with the comparatively recent discovery of the Tomb of Tutankhamun in the Valley of the Kings by Howard Carter.

The last however was different. Bound in supple red leather its pages seemed far older than the others, looser bound and being more of a parchment appearance than the factory made paper of the others. Indeed she noted this book was pretty much hand lettered and painted, and although there was a brief introduction in old English on the frontispiece in beautiful gothic calligraphy the pages soon gave way to ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics that at first glance were entirely undecipherable.

Gemma concentrated on the gothic letterforms of the introduction and was gradually able to understand that the book is a hand made record of the designs found in an ancient Egyptian temple dedicated to a goddess called Nephthys. There was no clue as to the actual author but whoever he, she or they had been, it was obvious that great talent had gone into making the volume.

Wow! Gemma looked up from the book. This has got to be valuable, the thought seemed to race though her mind, Mr Fortescue is going to love this one. She looked down once again, her interest now drawn intently to the pages in front of her. As she read the text almost seemed to lift from the parchment towards her. Nephthys. Gemma had never heard of her before. Nephthys. The sound of the word was a gentle whisper on her lips. The word seemed to be calling her. Lady of the Body of the Gods she apparently was, Mighty One of the Words of Power, Sister of Darkness to Isis her Sister of Light, Lover of Osiris and Mother to Anubis, the God of the Dead. Gemma seemed to hear the words rather than read them, and they seemed echo, ringing out over and over again in her head, her eyes glazing over as she stared at the book in front of her as the repetitive intonation became a hypnotic chant inside her head.

In the light of her small desktop light Gemma began to scan the pages of the book…its pages were obviously handpainted by master craftsman in deep red, blues, green and gold leaf. Despite her ignorance of the true meanings of the symbols they begin to dance in front of her eyes. Amidst the pyramids and animals and gods there were clues to a bold and uninhibited sensuality of lust and power; of women and men, of gods and goddesses all held in thrall to desire and the whims of the powerful and sometimes cruel god of all gods who presided over those times. There were women spread open, offered to the god as sacrificial offerings bound and tied for his pleasure; their expectant and wanton ecstasy self evident in their expressions. One symbol seemed to be everywhere, almost like the famous ankh, but different. All seemed to wear not a cross with a circle at its top, but from golden chains around their necks hung an icon, a beautifully crafted thick gold shaft tipped with a deep red plum shaped multi faceted jewel.

There were scenes of unbridled lust everywhere amongst the hieroglyphs; handsome young men rampantly erect and virile offering themsleves to the goddess, virgins awaiting defloration as a mark of respect to their master and overlord. It was endless. Without even realizing it herself, Gemma’s hand had slipped between her legs. Her belly trembling as she read, she pressed her hand between her thighs, squeezing them together at each new ancient and erotic episode that her eyes were now scanning hungrily. Her other hand trailed her the ends of her hair absent mindedly only pausing less and less occasionally to flip the pages of the book in front of her. Her eyes closing now each time she recognized the shape of the amulet. The more she closed her eyes the more the shape of the amulet seemed to stay with her; its’ golden shaft and deep red tip glistening and burning against the darkness of her dreamily closed eyelids. In her ears she could vaguely hear wanton groaning. Her fingers had slipped aside the leg of her panties and as they touched the dripping wetness inside her she could no longer stand it, as she slipped inside herself a huge burst of feeling swept thru her. Her hand between her legs making her gasp and tremble more forcefully, two fingers deep inside, while her palm was cupped tight over her mound as Gemma ground her clit against her palm, riding her own hand frantically, wracking her with orgasm and intense relief, stars bursting in the darkness of her tightly closed eyes as spasm after spasm clenched her drenched vagina. Her last waking thought was of the icon shining brightly, slippery with golden reflection erect and shining, just asking her to grasp it.

Abruptly she awoke, how long she had been there she didn’t know but the barn was cold now as the wood burner had obviously burnt itself out. What had she been doing? It was still dark outside and nothing was stirring. The books were in front of her still, their pages closed neatly. Groggily she dragged herself off to bed just about managing to undress and as her head hit the pillow she fell deep once again into a dreamless sleep.

Gemma seemed to surface rather than wake, as if she was still swimming in the deep green waters of the lake; sleep seemed to be a liquid through which she was gently floating. Her eyes flicked open and took in her alarm clock that she had forgotten to set…nearly 8.30! Damn! Gemma went into overdrive. She had to get the shop open by 9.30 which left her just about an hour to get ready and get into the village to work. Quickly she showered, did her hair, pulled on her work clothes and swept out of the barn slamming the door behind her.

It was only when she had let herself into the shop and was sipping on a mug of newly made tea that she remembered with an inward groan of trepidation that she had forgotten the books belonging to the lady from yesterday. It was obvious that Mr Fortescue had not picked up his messages, because as the morning wore on, he had neither telephoned Gemma at the shop, nor had he made an appearance there, all of which was pretty strange. It was another warm and sunny day outside as Gemma sat in the shop, trying to work out just what she was going to say to Isis when she came back for her bosses property. She could not believe how forgetful she had been.

Thankfully it was a slightly busier day than the day before, with a few people coming in out of the shop scarcely acknowledging Gemma’s presence behind the counter, their arrival and departure signaled only by the tingling of the shop doorbell. Inside Gemma was squirming at the thought of the ordeal that she was going to have to go through later. To cover herself later Gemma got online on the shops computer as soon as she got in and tried to recall enough detail about the books to some research on their possible value, although such details from the night before were quite simply very sketchy and vague in her mind and every time she tried to concentrate she simply got this fluttering in her tummy followed by a distinct feeling of heat emanating from the point at which her thighs met.

“Excuse me Miss?” It was just after 11am, and a girl had appeared in the shop. Gemma looked up and smiled at her.

“How can I help?” She replied with her normally genial demeanour. The girl was about about 15. She had shoulder length blonde hair and a very pretty face with a cute, gappy smile. She was wearing faded blue skinny jeans and a short vest top that was high enough up to show off a belly button ring from which sparkled a pink diamante gemstone.

The girl stayed silent for a moment longer than was comfortable, just looking at Gemma, smiling all the while, kind of lost in herself, as if her thoughts had strayed, until Gemma who was a bit confused by the girls lack of response, asked once again.

“How may I help you Miss? Is there something specific you were looking for?”

The girl in front of her jumped as if startled.

“I…I was wondering if you had any books on…tattoos. Actually. Yes. That’s what I was wondering.” The girl looked away shyly, sounding almost as if she was convincing herself that tattoos were what she actually wanted to read about. Then looking straight at Gemma once more she smiled again.

“I was thinking of getting one and I’m looking for a bit of inspiration. I’m not sure quite where I want one or even what kind so I thought if I looked at some books I might get some ideas. All my friends have been getting them and reckon they’re well cool and that boys just love them.”

It all came out in a bit of a rush and the girl looked thoroughly discomfited, probably Gemma assumed, because she was underage and did not have the approval of her parents. As the girl continued to look at her behind the counter, shifting nervously on her feet, Gemma noticed that her hand had drifted over her tummy button and that her fingers were now unconsciously playing with her belly button ring. Her cheeks had flushed slightly while standing before Gemma; and as the girl looked away once again, her small pink tongue darted from her mouth and moistened her lips before holding it gently between her teeth, her mouth now open pensively, lips glistening slightly from her own saliva.

“If you try the second aisle on the right towards the rear of the shop I think you might find something that will help you” Gemma replied gently.

She couldn’t help but wonder just how the girl would look with a tattoo, and just where she might decide to have it. The girl almost seemed to have to drag her attention away from Gemma at the counter. As she turned to head off into the rear of the shop Gemma took in her small waist flaring down to a very cute rear tightly encased in her hip hugging jeans, and couldn’t help but imagine that perhaps a cute little decorative humming bird peeking out from just where her panties would half conceal it would look positively delicious on the cheek of the girls derriere.

Now it was Gemma’s turn to blush and feel a tightening of her tummy as the image of the girls panties coming down to reveal her prospective tattoo flashed though her thoughts; especially as Gemma imagined herself as the one kneeling behind her sliding down the girls knickers. Quickly she tried to distract herself and dismissed the all too naughty thought from her mind, but as she busied herself categorizing some new stock for the shops shelves she caught herself once again imagining what the girl’s cute pink tongue darting over her lips had looked like.

Maybe she should go over and give the girl a hand. Gemma caught the thought the very moment it ran through her head. She couldn’t, could she? She was at work. Just as Gemma was fighting the inclination to throw caution to the wind, she looked up to find the girl in front of her once again, a large coffee table book in her hand.

“This one is certainly interesting! I think I’ll take it of that’s ok? Do you take cards?

“Yes of course hunni, did you find one that you liked inside? Gemma replied brightly, holding the girls eyes, blushing delightedly at the unintentional innuendo that had just left her lips. Just what was wrong with her today?

“Let me just run your card through the machine and I’ll put it in a bag for you.” Gemma took the book, placed it on the counter and bent to get a carrier from the hook beneath the counter.

“This should only take a couple of seconds.”

She pushed the card into the slot of the card machine and held it out for the girl to confirm the amount and enter her pin. As they waited for confirmation of the transaction Gemma couldn’t help but looking at the absolute cutie in front of her.

“So which one took your fancy?”

She said as she opened the book on the counter, flipping its pages open to reveal a collection of beautifully lit artful nude photographs of men and women some of whom were positively bristling with both piercings and tattoos. Just leafing though the pages with the girl in front of her was making Gemma drip and squirm.

The girl smiled came closer, leant over the counter and took over from Gemma, turning the pages until she stopped at one semi close up of a beautifully smooth heart shaped girls bottom. The photograph was tonally dark, the girl’s legs were just apart, the angle perfectly judged to give just a hint of the lips curving between them, teasing the viewer as they disappeared into shadow. Gemma’s heart jumped as she took in the beautifully delicate and tiny rendering of a bright blue hummingbird with outstretched wings and a long curving beak.

The coincidence between Gemma’s earlier thoughts and the girls unconscious choice was simply too much. The girl was leaning very close as Gemma looked up from the book in amazement. She could smell her scent and the view down the girls vest was positively sensational; her nipples were obviously erect and Gemma could just glimpse the darker skin of the girl’s aureola peeking from inside the confines of her bra as her boobs rested on the counter as she leant close over the pages of the book. The girl was smiling at Gemma, obviously aware of their close proximity and the direction of Gemma’s gaze. Her lips were sooo kissable, she thought, and breathed in deeply, looking into her customers twinkling eyes only inches from her own. She was sure that she saw an open invitation in them.

The beep from the card machine sounded abruptly, and it was Gemma’s turn to jump at the noise, breaking the moment of near intimacy between the two. Quickly she closed the book, placed it inside the bag and handed it to the smiling girl in front of her, along with a receipt and her card.

“If there’s ever anything else we can help you with…” Gemma’s words hung in the air as the girl turned to leave flashing Gemma another cute smile as she did so, and sashayed out of the shop door book in bag in hand, leaving Gemma with only the jangle of the door bell for company in place of the unexpected hotness of only moments before.

Gemma turned back to the computer on the counter top and was about to resume her research when the door bell sounded again. This time it was a middle aged man dressed smart and casually in a pair of dark green cords and v-necked jumper over a country looking checked shirt. Gemma estimated his age at about forty. He had a kind, slightly lived in sort of face with just the hint of a double chin to come, short dark hair and eyebrows that Gemma thought could definitely do with a bit of grooming.

“Hello. I’m ahh looking for a book ahh on…for my wife’s birthday…on…reflexology. She’s interested in that kind of thing.” He intoned in a very plummy stutter.

“Of course Sir.”

This time Gemma, slipped off her stool and walked out from behind the counter.

“If you’d just like to come this way, Sir, our section on alternative therapies is just over here. If you’d just like to come with me…” The gentleman followed Gemma to a section a couple of aisles over and as she gestured with her hand at a couple of shelves in front of them she smiled at him and said,

“I’m afraid it’s not too comprehensive but we do have an online ordering facility if you wanted to obtain a copy of something we don’t have in stock”

With that she grinned and turned to leave him to it, as he nodded his thanks and began to look at the books in front of him. It didn’t take long before he was back at the counter. He placed a book in front of her face down on the counter as though he was trying to direct her attention away from its cover. Gemma was amused mightily to see it wasn’t at all about reflexology but a book on sensual massage for couples. A big grin spread across her lips as she looked at the man. He was obviously discomfited, and fiddling in the back pocket he produced a wallet, from which he took his card before handing it over to Gemma without a word.

Gemma took the card and turned the book over. She just couldn’t help herself and keeping on eye on the guy in front of her she began to read the title information aloud, slowly, almost as if she was talking to herself, in the best breathless voice she could muster without breaking into a giggle.

“The Art of Sensual Massage. Every couples guide to the erotic potential of personal touch. That will be…thirty nine ninety nine…sir.”

She almost added,

“That’s definitely not the same as reflexology, is it sir?”

But stopped herself quickly, as she knew she wouldn’t be able to contain the laughter at the man’s evident subterfuge over his preferred choice of reading matter that was welling up in her chest. Instead she gave him a broad smile and looked at him conspiratorily, knowingly this time moistening her own lips just as the girl had done before her some minutes before, saying,

“I’m sure your wife will be only too pleased with your choice of birthday present, sir”

And just as before; as his card was doing its thing in the machine, she opened the book on the counter and took a quick leaf through its pages revealing yet more photographs of a very gorgeous looking, completely naked couple, both giving and receiving massage of a very personal nature in a very interesting variety of positions. Gemma quivered inside as she came across a page showing the girl caressing the stomach of the guy with one hand, looking adoringly into his eyes, while in the other she held the guys very obviously tumescent cock.

She left the page open on the counter positively shaking with suppressed amusement at her own temerity as she turned to remove the gentleman’s card from the beeping machine. As she turned back, the man’s face was now a violent shade of pink, and enjoying his embarrassment, Gemma let her hand brush slowly over the image of the guy’s erection, giving it her full attention for a moment, before closing the book and placing in the bag. The atmosphere between customer and shop girl was now positively pregnant with unspoken emotion. The man looked as if he just didn’t know where to put himself and Gemma was loving the momentary power that she was wielding over him, both highly amused and somewhat shocked that she had stroked a picture of a mans erect penis in front of him. What was worse was that she had definitely felt a little internal electricity as she had done so and was now tingling in her panties.

Gemma purposefully and coyly let one of her hands lightly rest across the white cotton of the shirt covering her chest. With the other she handed him the bag, his card and receipt over the counter and was thrilled to catch, just before he turned to hurry away to leave with a muttered, “Thank you miss.” That there was a definite bulge in the man’s cord covered crutch that had not been there when he arrived.

Once again alone in the shop, Gemma was now feeling distinctly horny. She had never, ever, not even in her wildest dreams, thought about a day in the shop producing such a sexual charge with her customers. She wondered whether the man who had just left would think about her in the shop as he and wife went though her new book on massage. She imagined him sat on his wife naked underneath him, languidly stroking her breasts with exotic aromatic fragrant oil. Gemma breathed in deeply; cupping her own through her shirt, pressing her palms against her nipples, pushing her chest forward, sitting up and curving her spine while shivering, closing her eyes to concentrate on the lushness she felt within.

This time the bell really made her jump. In a flash she composed herself, not daring to look at who had come in this time in case they had noticed what she had been up to. Being lost in feeling up her own boobs was scarcely appropriate behaviour for a girl who worked in a village bookshop after all. Was it?

“Alright Gemma? It is Gemma Chapman isn’t it? You went to St Augustines didn’t you?” Inwardly Gemma groaned. How typical. It was a boy. He was quite tall with a spot on his forehead and another on his chin, and out of the corner of her eye she recognized him as the younger brother of one the girls in the year below her at school. She hoped he hadn’t seen her; please let him not have caught her. She looked around careful to remain calm and act as if nothing was out of the usual.

“Hiya, it’s Nick isn’t it? You’re Michelle’s brother aren’t you?

He was just about the same height as Gemma, with light, sandy coloured hair parted foppishly on one side of his forehead, long on top but short at the back and sides. He was brown and athletic looking with broad well defined shoulders and pecs under his tight T-shirt and Gem seemed to recall that he was a tennis player on one of the teams at St Christopher’s; the local boys school; who also was a bit of a local star because he played for the county adults at only 15.

His baggy jeans were nearly hanging off, artfully caught half way down over his butt encased in tight cotton Calvins with a webbing belt. She knew that because the name proudly proclaimed itself from the branding on the waistband. One tug and they’d be off; was what immediately went though her mind. She still hadn’t been able to ascertain whether he had actually been aware of what Gemma had been doing a few moments before, but he did have a very broad smile playing over a very cute pair of lips.

“Shelle gave me some book tokens for my birthday, got any books on comic book art? I’ve been collecting for years, but she’s a bit dumb an didn’t have the sense to look though my stuff to see what I like and actually buy me some. Duh. But that’s girls for you innit?”

Gemma couldn’t be sure if he was actually asking for help or whether he was laying down a bit of an impudent challenge. Maybe that’s just me being paranoid, she thought and returned his cheeky grin just for good measure. His accent was really quite delightful, a public schoolboy drawl with a bit of street slang chucked in for good credibility with his mates. She was sure that despite his attitude, Michelle had said he was a bit of hit with the girls in his year, when they were all sat round gossiping in the girls changing after gym. In fact on second thoughts she was sure that Michelle had relished telling them how she had caught him in their bathroom having a wank in the shower. And that he was certainly not under endowed in the one eyed trouser snake department.

”We do have a bit, as a matter of fact, Nick.” She came back, wanting to thoroughly counter the cockiness of the young man in front of her, using his first name familiarly to let him know she knew exactly who he was. She looked him up and down, obviously appraising him with a cool inquisitive stare before continuing,

“Have a look over there,” she said, gesturing with her hand as if waving him away dismissively. “We don’t have what you might call a wide selection, because we’re not a comic shop, but there’s some DC annuals, some fantasy art books, and we usually have a bit of manga and anime somewhere on the shelves too.”

She pretended to ignore him and went back to the computer screen, wondering just what he would choose for his birthday present from his sister. She was trying to concentrate on getting some handle on Isis’ book collection and the thought that she would soon be returning both excited and made Gemma a bit nervous. She hoped there wouldn’t be a scene when she had to tell Isis her bosses books were back at hers, and had to ask that she return the day after to pick them up instead. It would make it so much easier if she hadn’t forgotten them, at least then she might have had some kind of real estimate as to their nature and worth.

For a while she was totally caught up in trying to work out what to say to Isis until it dawned on her that Nick had been in the back of the shop for a while now and hadn’t come back with any kind of reading material. She looked over and couldn’t see him behind the shelves, so she stood herself up and quietly came out once again from behind the counter. Turning the corner of one of the aisles towards the section which held all of the comic related stuff they had, she could see Michelle’s brother leaning back against the shelves at the far end of the aisle opposite absolutely rapt in a large colourful annual that he held in one hand resting against the shelf in front of him. It only took her a second or so to see that his right hand was buried in the pocket of his jeans and that there was a distinct movement going on inside them.

His lips were apart and she could see the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. He took his hand out of his pocket to flip the page only replace it there immediately afterwards. Only he didn’t just put his hand in his pocket, he kind of pushed it down and inside with a subtle forward motion of his hips. He never noticed Gemma watching him through the books at the top of the aisle, and for the third time that day she felt the tiny shocks between her legs that made the entire core of her being feel like it was turning to jelly. As she watched she could see the muscles in his upper arms moving under his skin as he stroked himself inside his jeans. His movements looked unhurried, graceful and sensuous, almost delicate; a far cry from the dirty old man jerking that so often seemed to go with images of men stimulating themselves.

Unbuttoning one of the top buttons of her shirt Gemma made sure the end of the aisle was still concealing her from view and slipped her finger inside her bra and gently slid her finger over the nipple concealed inside. Her own movements were not a far cry from those of Nick, still engrossed in his book. She felt herself grow under the feel of her finger in her bra, becoming more sensitive by the second. She glanced nervously toward the door in case anyone should pass by outside or come in but almost immediately was riveted again to the sight of the boy at the end of the aisle. She imagined his hard cock inside his jeans, she could almost feel the veins running though it pulsing with iron hard warmth in her own hand.

Her breathing was becoming jerky and irregular and she could no longer resist the temptation to slip her other hand under her skirt and run its fingers against her lips under her tights. She silently begged him to give into to the need to free himself from his jeans so she could actually see his hand on his cock. She had no doubt that if he did then she would just have to step into the aisle and walk down to kneel before him and take him into her willing mouth. It was either that or simply pull down her knickers and tights, brace herself against the shelf, and push herself backward onto the jutting monster and finally lose her cherry right then and there.

Nick once again took his hand from his pocket with the slightest of shudders and reached up to turn the page. As he did so he paused, and that was enough for Gemma, she moved like lightening, whipping her hands back into the open and taking half a pace back almost in one movement, obscuring herself once again from any chance of being seen.

“Gemma?” Nicks voice floated down the aisle, questioning and soft, and that was enough for Gemma to realize he knew she was there even if he hadn’t seen her watching him.

“Are you there Nick?” She replied without stepping out into view. “Did you find anything you liked?” She said, thinking her words sounded hollow and transparent. Did she have to be such a total giveaway? She stepped back to where he could see her and he was stood with the annual in his hand. She purposely kept her eyes on his face.

“I think you must have found something of interest because you’ve been quiet back here for a good twenty minutes. I almost thought you’d left without me seeing you.” She grinned at him broadly as he gestured with the annual in his hand.

“I had a good browse through a couple before I found this one,” he explained. “I nearly decided on the new edition of Watchman but then I came across this.”

Almost guiltily he once again waved the book at her and began to come back up the aisle. Too right you’re feeling guilty, she thought with a gush of warm pleasure, and was amused to notice that he was using the annual very unsubtly to cover his crutch as he headed up towards her and the open section of the shop in front of the counter. Gemma was almost shaking as she reached out to take the book from her friend’s brother and she was trying very hard to conceal it at the same time. Still looking him straight in the eye she reached to take the book from him and only then let herself look down for an instant, taking in the very prominent lump in the jeans of the boy in front of her, that she just knew would be there, before turning away and looking at the cover. Michelle had certainly not been exaggerating when she’d described what she had seen in the shower.

She was so close to him that if she had taken a step back her bottom would have brushed up against Nicks hard on, and she nearly gave in to temptation. She could feel his breath on her shoulder so acutely was she conscious of the delicious effect he was having on her body. The book was by Boris Vallejo, a fantasy artist renowned for the erotic content of his depictions of women, warrior queens and fantasy heroines, all of whom had high large breasts, succulent nipples, long legs, almost impossible cameltoes, and who very often wielded ornate swords and scimitars with which they vanquished both each other and the muscle bound men who were their foes.

“Wow!” She exhaled. “They’re all so Amazonian, so powerful and sexy.”

“He did an amazing version of Conan The Barbarian if you have ever seen it. I’m sure Sir Arthur Conan Doyle never quite imagined Red Sonja in the way Vallejo drew her. In fact without him I bet Arnie would never have come even close to getting the role in the film without Vallejo’s visuals to clue him in!” Nick grinned. “They just take your breath away don’t they? Have you never imagined yourself as a powerful Amazonian Goddess Gemma?

At that precise moment Gemma actually felt that she could, especially if it meant being thoroughly ravaged by Nick’s monster cock, despite the fact that he was her friends younger brother and only fifteen years of age. She knew that however much she was tempted by the thought right here and now though, it must be getting close to Isis arrival, and that it would just not do to let herself be found in such a compromising position with a minor in a village bookshop. If he only knew how much of a state her knickers were in he would probably only cum on the spot anyway leaving Gemma breathless and in need of so much more.

Instead she walked away with the annual, accepted Nick’s tokens in payment, and tried to remain professional while he stood in front of her still hard in his jeans, although to his credit, he did try to conceal the fact by standing close to the counter. While Gemma had her back to him though she was convinced he was staring straight at her arse. She could literally feel his gaze on her bottom, almost hearing his desire to fuck her as he imagined her in the role of a superheroine goddess of love straight from the pages of his comic book.

“Say hello to Michelle for me,” she said as Nick turned to leave the shop with his purchase.

“ I hope she enjoys your birthday present as much as you.”

Gemma left her words hanging in the air for a moment before fixing Nick with a cute little cheeky grin.

“We’ll all have to get together sometime soon, I haven’t really hung out with her since school finished , if I come over maybe you could show me the rest of your collection, ‘Shelle actually told me is was pretty extensive…”

“Yah, cool Gemm…that would be wicked…see you soon.” And with that Nick grinned back broadly and with a slight wave of his hand turned to leave. Just as he was nearly out the shop he stopped for a second in the doorway, looked back and said,

“Hope the rest of your day is as fun as it looked when I came in…”

And with that he was gone. Gemma sat open mouthed, speechless and absolutely mortified. He had seen her. Maybe he had been thinking of her as a goddess from the book while he’d been touching himself. All she could hope is that he wouldn’t gossip to Michelle because news traveled pretty fast around the younger community in the village. And thank god she wasn’t at school anymore where there was absolutely no escape when it came to explaining juicy gossip. Gemma consoled herself with the thought that if it came to it, there were no witnesses, and if anything did come out she could always say she’d caught him wanking too, and that he’d made the whole thing up to cover himself.

Absolutely full to the brim with unrequited raw need after a day in the shop that quite defied any rational explanation Gemma was once again alone in the shop. All the erotic energy that had charged the atmosphere in the shop that day had positively worn her out. She gazed at the computer screen in a daze, her pussy throbbing under her skirt. She longed to touch herself, needing to cum was now such a strong imperative that she just couldn’t concentrate on any more research, but oh how she needed a distraction. Maybe if she took off all her clothes and draped herself legs apart over the counter somehow Nick would come back and ravish her? It was a comforting thought but highly unlikely.

She had absolutely no idea of just how long she had been daydreaming in front of the screen, when that peculiar feeling of being watched from the other day made her quietly sit up. It didn’t come upon her suddenly but kind of crept through her consciousness. It was however no longer alarming. It felt in fact as if whoever was observing her could simply do so. Gradually she sat up straight, straightened her shirt, lifted her bottom and pulled down her skirt where it had ridden up slightly and began to feel better.

The bell on the shop door rang suddenly and as she turned round there was Isis in front of her looking equally as beautiful and as entrancing as she had the day before. It was only a day too…To Gemma it felt as if a whole lifetime had passed since Isis had come in with books yesterday afternoon.

“Good afternoon Gemma.”

It was a simple greeting but Isis words hung in the air with musical lyricism that made her syllables float towards Gemma, who was already losing herself in the deep green of the flame haired woman’s eyes before her.

“Have we made any progress?” Isis smiled at her and raised one questioning eyebrow waiting for Gemma to collect herself and make a reply.

“I…I…have a small confession to make. I took the books home with me last night and left them there. I am sooo sorry Isis. I don’t know what’s come over me. I do hope your boss won’t be offended. Mr Fortescue hasn’t answered his messages yet or come into the shop and all my own efforts at establishing the nature and the value of the books has been hindered because they weren’t here to refer to. I do hope that your boss won’t be angry with me.”

The words came tumbling out all at once and it felt good to Gemma to finally confess her complete incompetence to the truly elegant woman in front of her.

“I see.” Was the only reply that Isis made for a moment. She was looking directly at Gemma and continued to do so as if expecting a reply. Just as Gemma was convinced that the earth was going to open up and swallow her whole, Isis spoke the words again.

“I see. In that case we have a bit of a situation on our hands. I definitely need to return the items to my boss this evening. I trust you had an opportunity to examine them thoroughly after work last night?

Gemma felt herself blush and all she could do was look away for a second and nod her assent. Once again Isis’ carefully measured words, the way the came from her lips and the way her eyes looked at Gemma were all combining to make nothing else but pleasing this woman of any importance.

“I have an idea Gemma.” Isis was now smiling at her gently and Gemma immediately felt better.

“You don’t live far away.” It was a statement of fact rather than a question, and Gemma once again nodded her assent.

“In that case,” Isis continued, “here is a solution for you. It is nearly 5.30, so you may close the shop. I’ll drive you to your home where we can retrieve the books and then I would appreciate it if you might accompany me to my employer’s residence in order that you may convey to him in person all that you have discovered about their nature, value and origin. If Mr Fortescue has let you down it is not your fault, but I am certain that my employer will not be happy to have left his property with you for no good reason at all and that he would really appreciate your personal professional expertise on the volumes concerned in Mr Fortescue’s absence. I can always drop you home after we have concluded our business, if that concerns you”

Isis hand moved up to the chain around her neck as she spoke and Gemma’s eyes were drawn to the movement, aware of the soft golden glints that reflected from the chain as Isis idly toyed with it as she spoke. The reflections were so similar to the golden flecks that Gemma had noticed in the woman’s eyes during their conversation of the day before, so pretty too.

There was no questioning this woman’s softly spoken authority, and once again all Gemma could do was feel as if she were disappearing into the woman’s hypnotic green eyes. She felt warm, comfortable and somewhat disassociated as she heard rather than spoke the words of her reply fall from her lips.

“Yes. Yes of course. I’d be only too pleased to come and be of service to you. Let me just lock up and collect my things and I’ll come with you.” Gemma was breathing deep, slow breaths now. Curiously the feeling of not being alone in the shop, even though she wasn’t actually alone anymore now Isis was here, had returned stronger than ever. As she stood to and began to gather herself she simply surrendered to it thinking that if somebody was watching then simply let them. She turned to look though the window to confront whoever it was brazenly pushing out her chest and standing tall, but there was nothing there, except for again the fleeting impression of darkness out of the corner of one of her eyes.

Isis extended her hand to Gemma who thought nothing of taking it in her own and followed the woman out of the shop and out into the alley. Blinking in the bright sunlight and feeling fresh air on her face made Gemma a little more aware, and as she turned the keys in the lock to shut up shop for the day, just a glimmer of trepidation shot through her, but passing as quickly as it had arrived, she turned and accompanied Isis up the alley to a beautiful black Bentley parked on the road at its end.

A chauffeur got out from the front and went to the rear door of the vehicle as they approached and holding it open for the two passengers. Inside the seats and fittings were a deep red leather and the spacious interior was mostly of walnut as was the dashboard. It smelt simply gorgeous. Isis reached forward to open the window separating them from the chauffeur and spoke to him.

“Gemma will direct you Stephens. After which we shall return home for dinner”

“Very good Madam” came back the minimal reply, and with that they were off. Gemma was intensely aware of Isis thigh touching the length of hers as they sat together on the back seat of the Bentley. Directions to her home seemed to simply elicit themselves from her mouth with any conscious effort on her part, the outside world on the other side of the darkened windows blurring into itself as they headed into the country towards Gemma’s home. Isis remained mostly silent, gently smiling at Gemma from time to time during the journey, the heat from their touching legs seeming to blossom in Gemma’s trembling belly. She so hoped that Isis wouldn’t notice.

At last the car’s tires crunched on the gravel of the yard outside Gemma’s barn. The chauffeur once again opened the door for the women, first Isis, then Gemma, who thought nothing of allowing the woman to accompany her into her home. Please let the books be exactly where she had left them was the main and pretty much only thought that was going through Gemma’s mind. Please…

And there they were, sat in their bag on the breakfast bar in the barn, neatly awaiting the arrival of the woman and the girl as Gemma let them both into her home. She shivered monetarily in the cool of the barns interior and took the books from the bag to show Isis that here indeed was her bosses property undamaged and harm free. Isis walked slowly round to the opposite side of the bar and picked up the red leather bound volume that so excited Gemma’s attention on the previous evening. She opened the front cover of the volume carefully leaning forward as she did so. As she dipped toward the book the chain around her neck slipped forward and falling from the gap in the neck of her blouse Gemma finally saw the pendant that was hanging from it previously concealed in Isis gorgeous cleavage.

It was tiny and fragile, no more than an inch long. A slim finely contoured gold shaft tipped with a bulb of a ruby red gem. As Gemma fixed her gaze upon it, it glittered, sending out finely iridescent red streaks of the purest pigment brilliance into the air surrounding it. In her head Gemma began to hear a gradual moaning rising in the silence of her thoughts, clouding her mind with its subtle implication of ecstacy. The glittering of the gem fascinating her, dimly she remembered the orgiastic symbols from the book as she had succumbed to its effects the previous evening.

Isis now had the pendant by its base and was holding it up before her between her eyes and Gemma’s. As she moved the pendant from side to side in front of her eyes Gemma blankly moved her head following its progress first one way then the other. When Isis spoke her attention moved back to Isis eyes. With the pendant sparking colour moving in front of the deep green gold flecked pools of her retinas, the red of the pendants glitter caught the gold in her eyes and caused Gemma’s rapidly developing tunnel vision to focus entirely on the interaction between Isis eyes and the pendant. Feeling and clamour taking her over, her body felt on fire, entirely full of sensation yet serene and free from any kind of anxiety.

Isis finally spoke softly and mellifluously.

“You have been chosen Gemma; and you have chosen in your turn. You have felt the secrets of the Ancient Mistress and turned the pages of her Life and Death, just as you have turned a new page in yours.

You have felt the ecstasy and the reward of serving the ancient sensuality hidden within all. You have felt its power as she has felt yours. That I know. That you know. For now, and ever more; even if you are not conscious of it for the immediate present.

You are Sister, Lover, Mistress to be of the Words of Power, just as you are Sibling, Loved One and Subject to Power. Always. And you are the Unmarried Virgin.

Nephthys calls and you answer. Call Nephthys and hear yourself reply.”

Gemma’s lips parted and echoed in reply,

“Nephthys…Nephthys…I am here….I am she…She is me…” Gemma murmured, at which a great shudder ran through her compliant body, completely taken over by Isis power and the pendant flashing from her neck. Gemmas hands were all over her own body in front of Isis now, every touch a narcotic delight to her bodily senses made acute, her neck turning and twisting but locked by her eyes into Isis control.

“Now sleep my Mistress, Sister and my Subject…Sleep and Awake for your Time…Follow me…Follow…”

With that she held out her hand and caressed Gemma’s cheek, letting it fall down over her breasts and stomach until gently she took Gemma’s hand in hers, picked up the books from the bar and lead Gemma back to the car. Stephens opened the door and gently helped duck Gemma’s head into the rear passenger door until she was safe on the seat. Isis slid in next to the oblivious girl and took her hand in hers once again, whispering gently into her ear

“Where you go now…you may never know…yet know you will…always and forever.”

Gemma came too in a large darkened airy room with honey coloured walls. She was on a broad double bed suspended from the ceiling of the room by beautiful fine but heavy duty copper chains which were anchored to each of the four corners, on a soft white coverlet; still in her office clothes minus her shoes.

There was not much in the way of furniture, except for a few large plain wooden chests, made extraordinary by the panels of intricate carving embellished with gold leaf, and what looked like jade, that stretched down their sides. The wall in front of her was obscured by thick red velvet floor to ceiling drapes, parted in the center revealing a doorway and a door similar in appearance to the carvings on the chests again embellished with gold leaf and jade. The closed door had a heavy iron handle in the center.

It was this handle that started to turn as Gemma looked upon it. It had not occurred to her to feel at all frightened, indeed she felt remarkable safe since she hadn’t a clue where she was or how she had got there, so the turning of the door handle did not alarm her, it actually intrigued her. She continued watching the wrought iron handle as it slowly rotated, the door was heavy and as the handle came to a gentle stop, it swung open without a sound.

Through the void behind it came Isis, regal and resplendent in a long flowing green robe that hung from her shoulders flowing down over her body to drape elegantly across the floor with each of her steps. The robe had a high collar which framed her beautiful red hair and perfect pale complexion immaculately, around her neck hung the chain and amulet that Gemma dimly remembered from earlier.

“Hello again Gemma. I trust you have rested well after your journey. I welcome you here. Welcome to our home and residence.” She intoned in her marvelous musical voice with that curious smile playing across her lips.

Gemma just looked at her, not at all certain of what her reaction should be. She still felt immensely serene laying supine upon the huge divan. Playing across her vision as she considered Isis was the amulet in a disembodied mirage that dominated her sight even though it still hung tiny and fragile around Isis aquiline neck, causing her to have to squint to try and see the beautiful woman before her with any kind of clarity. Yet in the background of her feelings there was a slight notion of disquiet.

“Hello.” Was all she could manage, her voice seeming to tremble and echo in her own ears, gradually sitting up and tucking her legs underneath her.

Isis walked over to one of the trunks, opened its top and from within its confines produced a plain green glass bottle of what looked like wine and a couple of glasses.

“Please. I apologise Gemma. You require an explanation and I am amiss with hospitality for you my sister.” She poured a generous measure into one of the glasses and handed it to Gemma.

“Please, drink and I will make all clear, you must be exhausted. You are here now and in a short time your future is about to be fulfilled.”

Gemma took a deep draft of her wine and felt the ruby redness of it warm its way down into her stomach as she listened to Isis.

“Your future is with me, your sister in reincarnation for our next age together. You have been chosen and have witnessed the ancient influence of The Words Of Power contained in the book I gave you. Only those whose very destiny is such can feel and perceive the gift contained within those pages. We have sought you long over the passage of time and now it is your turn to take your place by my side as my equal and opposite for the coming generation. Your gift will both enslave you and free you, and people everywhere will know your power in their very core, and yet they will know it not. ”

Gemma took another compliant sip on her wine while she tried to fathom the meaning within Isis words. Sister? She had a family and was an only child, it just didn’t compute.

Isis continued.

“You remember yesterday, in the shop? Isis queried. Gemma nodded her assent. Again the memory of yesterday was fuzzy, becoming more so as she sipped again on her wine. Her limbs were becoming delightfully languid.

“The girl who looked at you with desire in her eyes. The man who your very presence excited, the boy…?” Isis words trailed off for a second the question in them implicit.

Gemma nodded aquiescently, as the memories came tumbling back triggered by Isis words. She heard once again the chanting in her ears as she read the book from the other evening, she felt the pull of the sexual abandon as she had experienced while taking in the symbols from the pages of the book. The amulet seemed to glow brighter at her from its place nestled between Isis breasts with every word that she uttered.

“They felt your power my beautiful, as did you. After your being had been unlocked by the symbols of the book they could not help it as neither can and will you. Your transformation began that night and will be completed on this one. Soon you will take your place by my side as one of three in the Great Triumvirate of our Order alongside me your sister, and our Master; your initiation complete alongside your womanhood. Just as it always has been and just as it always will.

You will be both mistress and slave to the power of your body and the Goddess contained within you. Your function is by destiny to bring unbridled sensuality to this world by your very presence within it, to provide a subconscious reminder and a catalyst for the basic, urgent and raw need which governs the existence of all humanity upon this planet.”

“It is through you, and your impending union with our Master and High Priest Radan Sul, that your sacrifice and gift will ensure both order and ecstasy remain in balance and that the Goddess will live on through you and with you for this age and the next. Your brief pain and loss in sacrifice giving way to a future of power and joy undreamt of by any except those of the here and now. We have witnessed you and watched you, and now it is time. You are now to meet your future and our Master.”

Isis took a step forward and outstretched her hand towards Gemma. The other she dipped into a pocket in her robe. Gemma opened her mouth and tried to speak but words just would not come. Questions were flooding through her mind but vocalizing them was proving difficult with the maelstrom of sensation whirling through Gemma’s body that Isis words and the amulet had caused. She tried her best to muster her consciousness and resist but her body was betraying her, her breathing heavy. She watched as if disembodied as her hand stretched out towards Isis as if of its own accord. As she offered Isis her hand Gemma uncoiled her legs from beneath her and slid from the bed to stand before her, her outstretched fingers now delicately held in Isis hand.

“Bow before the power before you Gemma, Nephthys awaits and we must make ready.”

Gemma slowly lowered her head in supplication, powerless now to resist any further, and she did as she was commanded. When her gaze rose once again Isis withdrew her hand from the pocket of her robe and raised it up in front of Gemma’s eyes. In it she held another representation of the amulet that was much larger.

This one was some eight inches in length, the golden shaft subtly veined with ridges entertwining upwards towards the large ruby head that crowned its tip. Deep inside it flickered with light, and Gemma breathed deeply as she felt its power. The light became flickers of current that sparked from its head, just as the amulet hand done earlier in the barn, curling outwards and upwards and toward her, as if she were a magnet for its energy, and in turn she was attracted to it.

Isis held it up toward her and dropped Gemma’s hand. Once again she spoke.

“As you were born, please.”

Gemma knew in spite of herself exactly what was required. Her fingers with a mind of their own, reached for the buttons of her blouse at her neck and began to slowly unbutton them. Isis moved closer to her and began to move the icon around slowly in circles inches from Gemma’s body, as if she were mapping its contours with the device. As Gemma reached to slide her shirt from her shoulders her belly was trembling uncontrollably. The shirt fluttered to the floor and she reached behind her to unclip her bra. As she freed her breasts Isis motioned quickly before them with the icon and Gemma nearly moaned as her nipples popped into hardness, feeling literally as though there lips around them sucking them forward where in fact there were none.

Her fingers went next to the waistband of her skirt undoing the poppers, letting it fall to the floor around her ankles. Isis once again motioned with icon, this time in front of her belly, and Gemma felt as if kisses were tickling there way around her stomach and hips making her jump and shake uncontrollably. Her breathing much more rapid, Gemma’s fingers hooked into the waistband of her tights, and as she pushed them down she felt a flood of moisture between her legs. As she stood only in her tiny white panties helpless before the will of this woman Gemma concentrated on the icon, feeling its power invade her completely, and once more took a deep breath before letting the now sopping piece of silk fall from her crutch baring herself completely in front of Isis.

“Turn around that I might survey your beauty fully.” Came the words from Isis.

She knew not why, but Gemma raised her hands above her head and began to slowly pivot on the balls of her feet until she was facing away from Isis and stood as if in worship and waiting, her beautiful figure pale in the lowlight of the room lit up by the red reflections of the currents issuing from the wand.

Isis stepped toward her once more and held the wand just over the base of Gemma’s neck. Her eyes took in the figure of the girl before her whose back arched gracefully under the power of the wand, her head falling forward as if massaged and relaxed before rotating itself up back and around. Isis moved the wand once again following the line of Gemmas spine downwards towards the small of her back noting how prettily her waist flared into the firm round globes of her buttocks. Gemma moaned slightly as the bulb as Isis hovered the tip of the wand at the base of her spine, tiny jerks raking her hips making her bottom quiver ever so slightly in front of Isis’ eyes. She kept the wand just where it was and the spasms increased, Gemma shifted her weight involuntarily and moved her legs slightly more apart. Isis let the wand move down following the line of the cleft between Gemma’s butt cheeks just about an inch away from her skin almost imperceptibly slowly. The wand was now almost at the juncture of her bottom and her thighs just centimetres away from the entrance to her vagina.

Gemma’s breathing immediately became harsher, almost panting at the proximity of the wand to her womanhood. She was dimly conscious of wanting to simply bend forward and drive herself back upon it as she had fantasized about Nicks cock the day before in the shop but somehow she was held, hips shaking in anticipation, she could feel its currents curling between her legs and up between her buttocks making her twitch inside as she was filled with a desperate longing.

Suddenly it was gone and for a few seconds she was uncertain of what to do. Once again face Isis and as she did so Isis dropped the wand for just a second and laughed her beautiful musical laugh before shrugging off her robe to face Gemma, standing naked in front of her except for the wand. Gemma looked at her and simply understood.

In the flesh Isis was statuesque and absolutely beautiful. With her pale clear skin and beautiful complexion she high full breasts tipped with large dark nipples, a narrow waist and long elegant legs, between which was a fiery red cluster of tight pubic curls which seemed to shine out under the glow from the wand and the paleness of her thighs.

Isis stepped close to Gemma, placed her hand in the hair on the back of Gemma’s head and drew her forward until their lips were inches from each other and their bodies were touching from breasts to thighs. Isis opened her mouth and gently pushed her tongue forward into Gemma’s mouth as their lips met for the first time, probing softly for Gemmas own tongue, pushing her chest forward against Gemma’s, feeling their breasts rub against each other.

Gemma groaned deep in the back of her throat and felt her mouth begin to work against Isis amazing lips, eating her back, shameless with enthusiasm, sucking her tongue deep into her mouth.

Abruptly Isis drew back. She placed one hand in the centre of Gemma’s chest and pushed her firmly backwards. As her the backs of her knees came up against the bed she crumpled helplessly backwards onto it as Isis stood over her with the wand outstretched. Isis let the wand stop just over Gemmas mound and she felt her hips begin to surge forward. Chanting filled her head and she was almost delirious with the sensation its currents were causing in her clit. Her hands of their own accord began to caress her own breasts, squeezing her own nipples, before reaching up towards Isis who simply stood her ground for a moment towering naked over Gemma’s helplessly horny form on the bed, whose legs were now wide apart. She touched Gemma’s mons with the wand and let it rest against her clit, its glow making Gemma’s landing strip of hair glow as red as that of Isis.

Gemma urged her hips forward against it, grinding against its tip as Isis slowly increased the pressure against her clit letting the deep red jewel sink into Gemma’s lower lips parting them just enough to let the wand nestle between them. The jewel now glittered with Gemma’s moisture as it lay against her most sensitive point, its currents snaking across her pubic region and lower stomach. Isis increased its pressure yet again and moved it down to the entrance to Gemmas body where she let it sit once again, just on the point of penetrating the all to willing girl’s body. Gemma was pushing against it, trying to drive it into her body but Isis resisted and simply let it rest at that point and allowed it no further inside her.

Instead she lent forward and hovered her nipple over Gemma’s mouth letting it drag over her passion swollen lips. Gemma eagerly took it into her mouth, hips bucking, sucking upon it in a way that caused Isis now to groan. Gemma took her whole aureola into her mouth feeling as if her entire sensuality was being nourished by Isis. Her hands reached out and slid between Isis legs caressing the lips between them, now slippery with Isis own juices. Isis tipped her head back and moaned pulling her nipple from Gemma’s mouth and finally took the wand from between her legs. She straddled Gemma’s chest and dropped forward over her head gradually edging forward until her spread pussy was inches from Gemma’s mouth.

The scent of her womanhood drove Gemma wild and she let her tongue part Isis lips to lick the wet pink centre of her sister to be, tasting the musky moisture of her sex. Reaching down and behind her Isis let the wand once again play over Gemma’s pussy and thighs as she felt her tongue working on her own now engorged sex; her own breath now rattling in her throat. She worked her thighs against Gemma’s willing mouth, feeling her clit and lips being taken entirely into the mouth of the girl between her legs, fucking her mouth with her pussy, seeking her own orgasm before she sent Gemma to her destiny.

She knew her sister to be had to know her own sexuality fully in order for her to achieve her all knowing sensuality with the High Priest of Nephthys, Radan Sul, in completion of the ritual, and driving her wild without allowing her fulfillment would make her ready and accepting for their union. Radan’s mouth would taste both Isis and Gemma as he achieved her transformation.

Throwing her head back and moaning now Isis pushed down on the sucking mouth underneath her hard and felt the waves of her orgasm approaching. Gemma’s hands were stroking her thighs and cupping her bottom spreading her wide so that Gemma could push her tongue still deeper inside her and finally it hit her; making her shudder and fall forward off Gemma whose mouth was still working, eyes still closed in pleasure, fingers now between her own legs shamelessly working her clit between them.

Still shaking slightly Isis stood and clapped her hands. The door to the room opened immediately and two forms appeared. Bare-chested and huge the two men clad only in short kilts with ornate belts walked toward the still naked Isis and stood heads bowed before her awaiting her obvious instruction.

“We are ready.” Was all that she said and the two huge men lifted Gemma naked from the bed and held her horizontal using their shoulders and hands to support her weight between them. Isis held the wand before her and walked slowly toward the door, the two men carrying Gemma behind her.

Gemma lolled in their arms, completely accepting her role as submissive plaything for these people gladly, not quite realizing anything except for a deep and intense longing which had taken her over completely. The wand had left her pussy like a raw wound needing healing and she was filled only by the need for penetration. Her normal personality seemed to have left her over the course of the last couple of hours in the company of Isis and her hallucinatory wand and presence. She wished Isis had fucked her with it and the thought made her groan as she was being carried along. She could still taste Isis on her lips and groaned again at the thought of the beautiful woman’s juices in her mouth as Gemma had made her cum, writhing in the arms of her bearers as they carried her down a short dark corridor.

Abrubtly they turned a corner and a vautled archway appeared spilling light into their path. Gemma’s eyes were closed as they entered the chamber but as her party stopped and paused she opened them to see that she was now in what appeared to be some kind of temple. Ornate columns lined each side of the chamber once again decorated with jade and gold leaf, the roof above her covered in hieroglyphics that swam before her eyes moving and shifting as she tried to concentrate on their content. The now familiar sound of chanting was low in the background although Gemma could not actually see anyone it felt as if this time it was not only in her mind but for real as the sounds seemed to be coming from all around her instead of from within her.

“She is ready!” Isis voice rang out. “Her time is now. Nephthys is nigh and her sacrifice awaits you my Lord. Give your homage and your seed in pleasure now in acceptance of her offering, for she is the Umarried Virgin. With her sacrifice will come again the spirit of Nephthys reincarnated to this life and this Earth and its people. Pray welcome the Lady of the Body of the Gods, Mighty One of the Words of Power, Sister of Darkness to Isis her Sister of Light, Lover of Osiris and Mother to Anubis, the God of the Dead. Her destiny is here, let balance be restored!”

As she spoke the words the Wand in her hand seemed to glow brighter than ever it had before sending brilliant red illumination out all around it. Gemma felt the men begin to lower her gently to her feet, standing her upright and a sense of complete expectation began to fill her needy body. Naked as the day she was born she felt her feet touch the smooth surface of the ground beneath her and a hot tingle coursed upwards through her legs. As she was freed from the hands of her bearers she stood tall and raised her head as if to take in her surroundings. In front of her was Isis with the Wand its red currents of light and sensation sparking out towards Gemma. With each lick of its power Gemma felt lighter and more exalted, the light coursing over her body, its sparking tendrils snaking out to play over her breasts, her nipples, her belly, her thighs and her pussy. Gasping with pleasure Gemma closed her eyes for a second, when she opened them again her eyes widened at the figure all in black who stood now before her.

Tall and imposing in a long black cloak and hood he had at least a few inches on Isis who stood next to him. The hood kept his face in shadow making him a dark shape in the light of the wand. As Gemma’s eyes widened still further he lifted one arm palm outstretched and slowly and deliberately made a beckoning gesture. Behind her Gemma heard the rustling of movement and took a step forward as if compelled toward the dark Figure before her. Hands appeared from the darkness surrounding him slipping inside his cloak disappearing into its interior and moving across the body contained inside it, caressing it, worshipping it.

Gemma took in the scene in front of her and began to feel an intense longing. She wished her own hands were getting to move inside that cloak, she wanted to feel just who was inside it, her body on fire with lust. Her tongue moistened her lips as she saw the hands move in and out of the cloak, up and down. The power of the Wand was totally subjugating her sensuality to her immediate future. Nothing else mattered now, and as if in touch with her thoughts the hands snaking out from behind the cloaked figure began to slowly pull back the cloth of the cloak revealing the body of the man within it, starting from the ankles up, gradually revealing first a long pair of tightly muscled legs giving way to a hugely erect penis at the base of a belly whose muscles were also sharply contoured and a broad, smooth and powerful chest. His head still remaining hooded the hands finally swept the cloak full behind the shoulders of the man, leaving him naked but for his darkened hooded face.

The hands ran out of the darkness over his body in front of Gemma, caressing it, smoothing the length of his erection, his thighs, his belly, his chest; against which rested an identical amulet to the one worn by Isis. Gemma’s knees were trembling, her breath panting in her ears, her whole attention focused on the huge cock thrusting forward from the base of his belly. It was at least ten inches long, thick, veined, with the foreskin being pulled back and forth over the deep purple bulb of its head. Gemma could almost make out the infinitesimal throb of the man’s heart pulsing his blood through its length. It almost seemed to grow in front her. She felt an answering throb between her own legs insistent, steady, growing greater with each of her own heartbeats. The chanting was growing louder all around her, her eyes fixed on the immense phallus in front of her, Gemma knees began to buckle underneath her and she couldn’t help but sink forward onto them in supplication and worship. It brought her face to within inches of the mans’ engorged glans. Her mouth opened as she licked her lips, her head dropped slightly to one side, breathing heavily, inhaling the scent of the masculinity in front of her deeply as she could nothing else but touch the vertical eye on the end of his penis with her lips, mouthing its’ heat gently over them. Gemma pushed her head forward harder, sliding her lips over the bulb until it filled her mouth using her tongue to wrap itself around the gorgeously taut smooth skin, before gradually letting it slip from her lips, before plunging forward once again. She groaned with pleasure and began to buck her hips slowly mimicking the motion of fucking as she moved her head, all the time bathed and supported in the glow of the currents from the Wand.

Isis hand was between her own legs as she looked upon the scene of the beautiful naked girl kneeling before her High Priest, hooded and powerful before her pleasuring him before being pleasured herself, electrified in a deep red glow. The unseen congregation assembled for the ritual were loud now, all around them, urging the ongoing process towards its inevitable end. She slid two fingers slid inside herself and pushed down hard against her palm with her clit as she watched Gemma being taken over by the primal need about to be set free inside her, adding her own excitement to the tableau as both witness and participant. The wand shook in her hand for a moment as she shuddered from the sensation, orgasm rapidly building within her, the slick full red lips of her flame haired pussy pulled apart by the penetration of her fingers. As Isis came, the current from the wand intensified sending out searing tendrils of light that enveloped the couple before her.

Hands snaked out once again to slowly pull the cloak fully from the High Priest and as he slowly raised his arms out from his sides, the hood finally fell back from his face until Radan Sul stood naked, triumphant and revealed. He was a very handsome man, short dark hair framing a strong jaw and prominent cheekbones, green eyes heavily kohled and highlighted with gold, his nose straight and lips full, all bathed in deep red. Gemma felt herself being lifted slowly and surely, she still hadn’t touched the shaft of his penis with her hands and now she felt them being taken by others. She was no longer in contact with the ground but her mouth was still hungrily sucking the glans inside it. Feeling as if she were weightless and hovering, her hands held by others, she gradually had no choice but to let Radan Sul slip from the suction of her saliva dripping lips with the softest of pops, her legs unfolding into the space beneath her and spreading wide as she was cradled backwards by the unseen forces present in the crackling fluid currents of the Wand.

Taking just one pace forward, Radan Sul threw back his head and took a deep breath, his hands now holding Gemma’s ankles wide apart as she floated before him naked and defenceless in the red miasma. She felt her entire body aching for him inside her, every tiny molecule off her being asking for him to fuck her. Her nipples felt like pebbles on her breasts which were full and weighty and aching for the touch of his lips as her heart beat hammered inside them. His hands were sliding up along her calves, caressing her, past her knees to her thighs, stroking and kneeding the flesh he found there as Gemma heaved at his touch, her buttocks clenching and unclenching with unfulfilled tension. Radan Sul slid his hands beneath them and Gemma Chapman thought this was the moment when she might die from desire. The very tip of his penis came to rest lightly right upon the spread opening of her virgin body, she could feel him throbbing against the entrance to her velvet interior. Staying stock still against her, on the very point of impalation, he stroked her, hands moving up her sides, over her breasts, her stomach, squeezing her nipples, moving over her shoulders, her neck. He bent his torso over her and rained kisses on her belly, her breasts and he took her nipples whole into his mouth.

With her clit going absolutely wild between her legs he let his kisses touch her neck, her jawline, her cheek before leaving his lips only an inch from her own, achingly close yet in the erotic urgency of the moment it was tortuously far for Gemma. Her eyes opened wide as current began to issue from his lips as well as surrounding them entirely and she felt his hands on her shoulders suddenly tense; and as he ever so slowly put his mouth to Gemma’s so he increased the pressure between his cock and her virginity. Their lips touched lightly and she felt herself begin to tear, groaning suddenly from the pain and ecstacy as it grew in stature burning, burning, as the great bulb of his member pushed her lips aside and she slowly, ever so slowly was driven down onto and over his great penis, enveloping him gradually in her newfound femininity while his lips mashed against hers and hers against his. She felt as if she were dissolving in the light and the pain and the pleasure. Halfway inside her he paused once again for less than a moment before with one last sudden hard push with his hands on her shoulders while his hips thrust forward, burying the full length of him deep inside her banishing her virginity to a thing of the past. As at last he took his lips from hers she heard herself keening in abandon like a banshee on the wind while he took a huge breath into his lungs and from deep within his chest roared one single word.

“Goddesssssssss!!!”

The cry rang out around the chamber at a volume enough to wake the dead and he began to pump himself in and out of Gemma’s pussy slowly at first, holding her tightly against him, keeping his groin pressured against her clit, rolling his hips so his cock stayed deep inside her but moved in and out just the same, kissing her and caressing her hungrily. Gemma rode him eagerly, gradually becoming accustomed to his size within her, and bucked against him in absolute abandon as he slowly raised his torso from hers. More upright now with his hands on her hips began to really pick up the pace, pistoning in and out of her, withdrawing the full length of him from her for microseconds at a time before slamming back into her with a force that made a rhythmical slap slap slap as they came together each time and her buttocks cushioned his force.

She could feel his testicles as they swung against her again and again, faster and faster, and soon they were as one sychronized blur of sexual energy and power, giving and taking in absolute unity. His sweat covered her and it felt as if her legs were entirely dripping with her own juices so slippery was she with lust, orgasm after orgasm wracking her until at last she felt him grow once more within her, and felt his sack become tighter and tighter against his body, until with one last shuddering heave he exploded deep inside her flooding her insides with the sticky heat of his semen, jerking and pressing against her sending shocks through her the like of which she never even dreamt of.

Finally satiated he slumped against her and the light from the Wand diminished slowly becoming weaker in the half light, lowering them both gently to the floor as it finally became extinguished and the chanting died away all around them ending with one clearly defineable Name long drawn out with reverence ending with a whispered fading sibilance: Nephthys. It was the last thing of which Gemma was conscious.

When she awoke she was back in her barn in her bed, daylight flooding in from the undrawn curtains of the large window in its side. She turned to look at the fields through the glass and felt a movement against her neck. She looked down and raised her hand to look at and touch the thing suspended from her neck. It was a delicate golden chain from which was suspended a tiny ruby on the end of thin golden shaft. It was at that précise moment that her mobile began to ring.