****** A Goth Grrrl's Power by darkness ******
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A Goth Grrrl's Power


Syreena Blacque was in a foul mood. That in itself was fairly normal. Those who
knew her best could have told you that she had been in a bad mood most of the
time since her twelfth birthday. Now, she was traipsing through the woods in
the middle of the night, following Cobweb, some damn wiccan fruitcake, to the
"glade of spirits." "O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o, scary," she thought sarcastically.
Syreena had no place in her heart for wiccans. All the damn "true believer"
nutjobs lumped in with the goth community detracted from what she saw as the
essence of the gothic subculture: The clothes and the make-up made Syreena look
hot, and the clubs were always fabulous.

As she trudged wearily behind the spiritualist she detested, she focused on the
one thing that had led her to this place. A few steps ahead, bounding like a
puppy at the chance to be part of the evening's ceremony, was Ivano. Ivano
(pronounced I-vonn-oh, with the emphasis on the second syllable) was often
slyly referred to by the girls as "I-vonn-him." He was the object of Syreena's
desire, and she was not about to let Cobweb haul him off to some moonlit glade
in the middle of the night. No, it wouldn't do for him to wind up "worshipping
the goddess" with this kooky little nympho all night. Syreena was convinced
that all wiccans were nymphos, and she shared that conviction with everyone she
knew. So, to protect own self-interest, Syreena Blaque, the tall, vinyl-clad
goth clubber, found herself ruining her tights while she walked, high-heeled
boots in hand, down a path broken by gnarled tree roots and thorny bushes.

Life hadn't always been so thorny for Syreena. She was born Kathleen Jane
Blohawyczyk. The lengthy last name was not an affliction for the first twelve
years of her life. Blohawyczyk Steel was one of the largest foundries in Ohio,
and she had grown up exceptionally wealthy. Throughout elementary school, she
had the best toys, the best clothes, the best birthday parties and the biggest
pool in town. Girls at school envied her and sucked up to her, trying to get
invited to share in her good fortune. Whatever Katie J wanted, Katie J got.
That all changed eight years ago, when she turned twelve. What Katie J wanted
then was to be the girlfriend of Ricky Monroe. She made her affection for him
obvious and expected that he would soon come to heel as had the girls when she
desired their company. Ricky Monroe wasn't interested. Ricky had his eyes set
on Jocelyn Rivers, the little girl who had grown up across the street from him.
It seemed that Jocelyn was "cuter" than Katie J. She was also sweet and smart
and liked to play baseball with the boys.

Katie J was heartbroken. She hadn't been refused before, and she didn't take it
well at all. She grew sullen and moody, and began to hate the way she looked.
Pale, raven-haired, tall and gangly with no discernible bosom, Katie J was
convinced that she was ugly. In fact, her appearance was far from ugly, but her
demeanor was growing more and more ugly everyday. Throughout middle school, she
used her wealth and the tight gaggle of girls whom had always been at her
disposal to play all kinds of awful adolescent social games. She was just plain
mean most of the time, but most kids that age are a bit on the cruel side at
times, and no one paid any special notice. Unfortunately, what Katie J now
wanted most of all was special notice. By high school, most of her friends had
grown tired of her increasingly unpleasant personality. By the end of her
sophomore year, she was a loner.

Then she spotted a few goth grrrl's in a magazine. One was tall and slender
with pale skin and raven hair. She looked a lot like Katie J. But she also
looked fabulous! Goth hadn't really come to Katie J's school, yet. So, that
summer she got her mother to send her to stay in New York with her cousins.
There, Katie J assembled the wardrobe and the background in goth style and
music. Syreena was born, and Katie J never came back to that little town in
Ohio. Syreena got special notice from the start, and when nature finally
provided her with a bosom, she once again became a potent force in the social
fabric of her school. Sexual teases became her forte, and she loved to watch
the boys fall for her Siren spell and crash against the rocks. She lived up to
her chosen appellation.

College found her in a different mindset. The tease had grown tiresome, and she
had come to crave the consummation of sexual desires. She was pursued by nearly
every goth boi on campus. She found herself drawn to some, and was more than
willing to wrap her long limbs around them and draw them to her heart. It had
become a heart of ice however. Old wounds did not heal well for Syreena, and
she became a black widow, draining her mates of their emotions and energy after
brief passionate encounters. Her long legs would hold him tightly in place as
he strove to meet her carnal desires. Her arms would wrap tightly around his
neck. Her mouth whispered sweet promises whose venom was only revealed when
they went unfulfilled. A week or a month was as long as any male survived in
her web.

By the time she entered the fall of her junior year of college, she had nearly
depleted the supply of potential mates. There were plenty of goth bois around,
but many had felt her sting. Also, she was not fond of slender men, and they
seemed so common among the young bois at the clubs. She wanted some muscle on
her lovers, and there were precious few muscular candidates left. She had run
through the population in her social circle, and the beefy bodies she desired
generally belonged to jocks. They were either afraid of her or only interested
in "banging some crazy goth bitch." It was not her desire to be on the
receiving end of that type of degradation. She began to despair.

That's when Ivano showed up. He was definitely goth, clad and shod in black
leather and trimmed with dark eyeliner and scarlet streaks in his hair. He was
very spiritual-oh well, minor flaw. But he was definitely "beefy." He had broad
shoulders and--Syreena noted most desirously-powerful haunches. There was more
than physical desire to her attraction, she decided. Ivano was her ideal man.
Smart, sexy, stylish and desired by every girl she knew. He was her true
heart's desire. As she sat and watched him walk away after a long conversation
one night, Syreena felt her heart warm for a moment, and she knew that this was
a person who made her vulnerable to feelings she had closed off years ago. Time
and time again she gave him clear signals of what she wanted, but he was
noncommittal. Still, she had to have him. That is why she found herself walking
behind Cobweb in the middle of the night.

Cobweb finally stopped them as they reached a glade in the middle of the wood.
It was populated by a few erratic boulders and one gnarled cherry tree. It was
everything a wiccan would look for. Syreena, of course, hated it. Even though
she thought spirituality was a fool's opiate, this place scared the breath from
her. Cobweb, who had seemed slightly dumpy before, cast aside her old cloak to
reveal a very robust figure. She had an ample bosom and very curvy hips. Her
dress was not what Syreena expected to be hidden under the earth-tone cloak.
The dress was black and tight. It was even somewhat shiny. It was not terribly
dissimilar to the vinyl Syreena wore.

"Sit." Cobweb ordered Ivano as the three approached the tree. He quickly sat on
the ground. "You, beautiful one, must not put yourself upon the earth this
night. Sit upon the boulder, here, and be witness for a time." Syreena didn't
like being told what to do, but she was going along with the whole thing to
show Ivano how open she was to these things. So, she sat on the boulder and
followed Cobweb's orders.

Cobweb knelt in front of Ivano and had him put his hands and forehead on the
ground. She began a low chant, which he picked up. After a moment, she left him
and approached Syreena. "That will keep him still." Cobweb stood in front of
Syreena and delicately stroked Syreena's raven hair.

"What?" Syreena did not like this busty little wiccan touching her. "Look, I'm
not into any three way stuff. I knew this would be some kind of sex thing.
Wiccans are all nymphos. Ivano, let's go. She's just trying to seduce you."

"Wiccan? Wiccan? Wiccans are children. They seek to forge partnerships with the
forces of nature. They worship Gaia and other such minor deities. Nature is not
something with which you commune. Deities are not to be worshipped. They are to
be commanded!"

"Ivano, let's go!"

"He can't hear you, child. He is in thrall. If I don't release him, he will
stay there until he molders into the ground. I do not want him. It is you I've
come for."

"I don't do girls. Leave me alone, you little skank!"

"Syreena...My mind is not so closed as to whose flesh I fancy, but I do not
want you for that-tonight. I desire your partnership. I sense in you some power
over men. You can often lure them whichever way you desire them to go. You've
done it for some time, now. But, I can grant you the power to hold any human
under your sway, completely."

"You're nuts!"

"Look at your boi, there. Did he answer when you called his name? No, because I
hold him. Thrall, remove your clothes and return to your position." Cobweb
didn't even glance at Ivano, but he followed her directions completely. "I
could make him strangle himself to death if I wished, but that would be a waste
of a commodity you desire. Do you want him?"

Syreena moved slowly past Cobweb toward the beautiful naked man on the ground.
Dumbly, she nodded her answer to the question Cobweb had posed. Cobweb put her
hand on Syreena's shoulder for a moment, and Syreena felt a thrumming surge of
energy pass through her long limbs. Cobweb released her, and she moved to
Ivano. He rose, and faced her. Upon gazing into her face, he fell to his knees
and cast his eyes upon the ground. "Look at me!" Syreena whispered urgently.
Ivano gazed up at her. There was a longing and a plea in his eyes. His hands
struggled to touch her, but could not until she said that it was to be. She
reached her long slender fingers out to touch his face. He was in despair,
being touched by the being he desired, but unable to take her. She willed that
he should kiss her fingers and her wrists, and he did so. He was fevered, taken
by a dementia that demanded her and nothing else.

She desired him to stand and bury his face in her bosom. He did so, unzipping
her vinyl dress because she willed it to be done. He hungrily kissed her
breasts, kneading them with his trembling hands. She struggled to free herself
from the clinging black dress. He ceased what he was doing and immediately saw
to it that her wish to disrobe was granted. She wished her black panties to be
removed, and they were. Soon, they were naked together. He kissed her shoulders
as her long slender fingers traced the length of his back to his powerful
haunches. "You may," she whispered, sensing his desires. He gently laid her
down on the grass and placed his face at her vagina. With the same fevered
possession of his soul, he ministered to her warm nether regions. He seemed to
be inside of her and then outside of her all at the same time. Each sensitive
feature of her womanhood received extended attention. She felt the rush of her
nectar to greet his needy mouth, and she felt the great inner spring beginning
to coil. This is not where she wished him to be when the spring released,
however. As soon as that thought reached her own mind, he acted upon it. He
withdrew from his ministrations and rolled onto his back, bending his knees.

She placed herself over him and held his hands to the ground. With a fury
prompted by his having made her pursue him, but going all the way back to Ricky
Monroe, she took him. Whispering sweet promises in his ear, she ground herself
into him. He shuddered in ecstasy. She changed positions and angles many times.
Regardless of the position, however, she threw herself onto him. A less
muscular man might have been hurt by her unrestrained passions, but he did more
than just endure. Every time she pushed herself down to meet her, he slammed
his backside into the ground because that was what she pictured in her head. It
was like he was trapped beneath her, and only she could distribute ecstasy or
suffering. When her body was finally overcome with carnal pleasure, the great
spring inside her released. She was spent and limp, desiring nothing more for
the time being. He had not finished, but he tried to bury his desire to do so.
He did not want to bother his mistress for it. She lay motionless on top of
him, but he did not thrust at all.

"Do you believe that you hold him, yet?" The voice of the near-forgotten Cobweb
broke into the moment.

"Yes."

"You don't need to satisfy him. He'll just want you all the more next time."

"That would be cruel."

"You've been cruel before. And wasn't it cruel of him to talk to you all those
times when he knew you desired him? All those times he walked away? Do as you
see fit."

Syreena rose up slowly from Ivano, and left him lying there, shattered, but yet
honored to have served his mistress. Syreena stood before Cobweb. "Who are
you?"

"A name will not satisfy your need to know, but we will begin with one. Amamal.
I am one who commands the forces of nature and the deities of the supernatural.
I am a collector of wills and a conduit of ambitions."

"I'm not much of a poet, Amamal. Use plain words."

"You do lack a sense of drama, don't you? So be it, my beauty. In the time that
has come before us, the world has been inhabited by many souls who desire as we
do to possess and command everything we encounter. We need to be the one who
has the best of everything, and the prettiest of everything. We need to have
everything."

"I want to be the girl with the most cake," Syreena said with a greater portion
of sarcasm than she intended. She had long ago formed the habit of trying to
cut tension with humor, but in recent years the barbs had taken on an
unpleasant edge, ironically heightening the tension she sought to abate. Cobweb
didn't seem to notice that edge, however.

"Oh, Syreena, I love that song. I used to think Courtney Love was one of us,
but she's become something of a softhearted sentimentalist. Anyway we are not
here to discuss such things tonight. Your point is well-taken. The spirits of
those who are so desirous are doomed to be restless. Some of us possess the
ability to contact the souls of those ambitious persons who have come before us
and use their souls to command the forces of nature and the supernatural. There
are millions of souls who wish to vicariously experience our domination over
all that we desire. I am a conduit for spirits who desire the devotion and
sexual submission of as many people as possible. Thus, I am able to enthrall
any human, and use them for my pleasure. And I am quite certain that you now
have developed a taste for that power." Syreena nodded. "Would you like to have
that power at your command, day and night?" Again, the tall goth grrrl nodded.
"I have sway over a large region, and I am willing to share my domain. It can
be taxing to keep other forces from encroaching upon your territory. I need an
accomplice, a partner, to help me channel the power of more spirits in order to
supress a demon who wishes to take over our domain. You have the desire, and
you have the talent to be a conduit. Will you join me?"

Syreena looked at the previously unattainable Ivano, lying naked and praying
for her return. "Yes, Amamal. I will."

"There's my princess," Amamal smiled as she spoke. She took Syreena by the hand
and led her to the tree. "Cherry trees would never grow wild in this spot,
Syreena. This is Fondal, a demon who craves to dominate this region. I captured
him last year, and placed him here, in this form. But time is running short. He
will soon escape if we do not bind him here again. I will cast the spells, but
you must allow the spirits of our forebears to pass through you and aid in the
binding. Without their help, I cannot hold him." Amamal watched Syreena as she
in turn gazed apprehensively at the gnarled cherry tree. "Do not fear, my pet.
We can tap into the power of thousands of spirits. He poses no threat to the
two of us together. Now, stand here. Bring your hands up to shoulder high.
That's good. Now just focus your thoughts on me, and I will guide the energy
you receive. Are you ready?" Syreena, still naked and trembling from fear and
cold, quietly nodded.

Amamal knelt and then cupped her hands around her mouth. She bent to the ground
and whispered a short command. She then rose without putting her hands on the
ground. She touched her fingers to her temples for a moment and then extended
her hands, palms up toward Fondal. She cried out in a harsh voice, "Eisen arbol
kaught dunaght!" Her body lurched as a flood of energy surged through her.
Fondal was raised from his slumber and began to alter the energy to cast his
own spell, one that would free him. Syreena could see his bark-like skin became
smooth, like a highly polished wood. The two largest limbs began to transmute
into long arms ending in mighty fists. She gasped for a moment, but then
remembered to shift her focus to Amamal. Her recent power over Ivano had left
her with a sense of confidence and focus. A jolt of energy shot through her
body. Inside the energy, she could hear cries of pain and the snickering
laughter of selfish desires fulfilled. She gasped in surprise, but maintained
her focus on her partner.

Soon, Amamal seemed to grow in stature, and Fondal began to wane. There was a
sickening sound akin to a huge fallen tree breaking off the limbs of its
neighbors as it descended to the forest floor. Fondal's smooth surface became
rough bark again. Then, after less than a minute had lapsed, it was over.
Fondal was fully bound, and Amamal was panting heavily, but smiling. "Well
done, my princess! Well done!" She called out.

Syreena stood silently. "I heard. I heard cries and screams."

"Oh my poor dear," Amamal rushed to her like a mother would to a child with a
skinned knee. "I should have warned you. Some of the spirits we channel are too
ambitious for their own good. They will try to play tricks on you. They might
speak to you and try to convince you that they are in pain and need to be
freed. What they want is for you to be careless and give them control of your
powers."

"You're damn right you should have told me!"

"Oh, sweet one. They are no danger to us. All you need to do is to snuff one
out, and the others will fall in line. It's easy. When you hear a voice, just
mentally picture your will constricting around it, as if your hands were
crushing a piece of burnt paper. It will be forced to leave you and return to
the nether world. The rest will fall in line because they desire to be a part
of your experience."

"Oh, that sounds simple enough," she cracked before she could think better of
it. Again Amamal seemed not to notice the edginess; a fact for which Syreena
was deeply grateful. Common sense told her that Amamal was someone she did not
wish to anger.

"These things will soon become child's play for you, goddess."

Goddess. Syreena liked that. It suited her just fine. Now, she was in a good
mood, and wanted to celebrate. She turned to where Ivano lay on the ground. His
penis was still erect, still hoping for just one more touch from its new
mistress. He needed to release what had built up inside of him during his
encounter.

Syreena stood over him. She bent to his erection and traced a fingernail up the
delicate underside. He shuddered and gasped in ecstasy. She rose again and her
lanky frame towered over him. She reached to her nipple and slowly traced a
long slender finger around it, then traced the curve of her stomach down past
the neatly trimmed pubis and into her warmth. She stroked herself slowly as
Ivano arched his back in a supreme effort to restrain his own desires. Syreena
smiled at him as she pleasured herself. He was in agony from longing. Syreena
was in a generous mood and decided to grant him his relief. "Now," she
whispered and stepped back. Immediately, a fountain of white translucent fluid
burst from the tip of his aching member. Syreena laughed as she saw his body
collapse momentarily onto the ground. Then, she giggled as his first bit of
regained strength was used to crawl to her feet and kiss them.

"Nice puppy," she giggled and turned to Amamal who was laughing as well.
Syreena got dressed and left hand in hand with her new partner, leaving Ivano
to walk, naked and stained with his own juices, several steps behind them. As
the grrrl's laughed and made plans, he reflected upon how fortunate he was to
be in the company of these two goddesses who had decided to spend a night on
earth. As per Syreena's orders, he would awake in the morning remembering only
that Syreena was his one true love and that he would obey her every whim.
Syreena retired to make plans of a most depraved nature.

It was actually a few days before Syreena really went to work with her newfound
power. There were so many candidates, and so many unique opportunities. None of
the old boundaries existed. She amazed herself with her first choice. Maria
Rios sat in front of Syreena in her Victorian literature class. Maria was the
point guard and captain of the women's basketball team and also one of the most
well-loved students on campus. She was president of the Latin Students
association, and strong voice for harmony amongst all the student on campus.
She was a beautiful little waif whose slightly boyish charm and confident and
relaxed smile buoyed everyone around her.

Everyone except Syreena. Maria always offered a friendly hello to Syreena even
though many others in Maria's social circle shunned the goths. Syreena had
always wanted to return the gesture and capitalize on the possibility of
friendship with such a beloved campus figure. Making inroads with Maria might
lead to meeting some of those beefy jock boys in social situations that Syreena
might be able to turn to her favor. But Syreena found she was unable to warm to
Maria at all. Syreena had known Maria for two years before it finally dawned on
her why she held an inexplicable animosity toward the sweet little Latina:
Jocelyn Rivers!

Maria reminded Syreena of Jocelyn Rivers, the little twelve year old "jock
chick" that had stolen her first love! She was cute and athletic and incredibly
sweet. From that moment forward, Syreena hated Maria. That is how it came to
pass that Maria found herself the next to fall into Syreena's thrall.

Syreena knew that her newfound powers would allow her to take care of all her
grades at a time of her own choosing. So, she did not even bother sitting
through the lit class before making her move on Maria. Syreena walked through
the classroom door and straight up to the precious dark-haired beauty. "We're
leaving," she said flatly, not even bothering to look at Maria. "Bring your
stuff. You're not coming back today." Maria smiled sweetly and bounced out of
her seat, deftly snatching her book bag on the way up. Maria was normally
talkative, but she didn't speak a word as she followed Syreena across campus.
With her dark hair and diminutive stature she looked like a little sister
following her cherished tall, glamorous older sister, grateful to be included.

Syreena did not even look back as she led Maria home. Syreena had a spacious
two-bedroom apartment in the "Orleans," a building far out of the price range
of most students. No other students were able to afford an Orleans apartment on
their own, but Syreena had told her daddy she needed the privacy to "get away
from all the noisy parties and distractions from studying." Daddy wrote her a
check to pay for three years in advance. Once they entered the apartment,
Syreena plopped herself into a large and comfortable recliner and used the
remote to turn on the stereo in the entertainment center which occupied an
entire wall of the apartment. Siouxsie and the Banshees "Suburban Relapse"
pulsed through the room. "Draw the shades and flip the light switch on the
left," she ordered, still not looking at the fly snared in her web. Maria did
not hesitate to follow the orders. The room was nearly pitch black for a moment
as Maria fumbled for the switch. Then, the room took on an eerie blue glow.
Syreena had replaced most of the regular lighting in the room with "black"
lights.

Satisfied with the atmosphere, she finally cast her eyes on her new thrall.
Maria stood in the center of the room. She was wearing a snug white t-shirt and
a short black skirt. In the light, the shirt glowed, and the sweat on Maria's
forehead shone brightly. She was not smiling anymore. Syreena no longer wished
Maria to be a happy little kitten. "You are a pretty little thing, and always
so pleasant. What are you like when the world isn't bowing and scraping before
you?"

Maria answered, having been queried by her new mistress. "I don't know exactly
what you mean, but I do know that I am confused. I don't understand what is
happening to me."

"Confused... a start I suppose. Aren't you frightened?"

"A little. I could be terrified if you wish me to, but right now I am more
curious."

"No, I don't think I'm going to tell you what to feel, at least for now. I'm
interested in what makes girls like you tick. I don't want you to resist or cry
out, but I want you to tell me what you really feel; it might amuse me. What
are you curious about?"

"How are you controlling me? Why did you bring me here? Are you going to hurt
me? Are you going to rape me? How long are you going to keep me here? Are you a
vampi-no that's stupid. You go out in daylight all the time. How much did that
stereo cost? Do you like me or hate me? Do I have..."

"Enough!" Syreena was both amused and annoyed. This one was a more difficult
thrall than Ivano. She obeyed, but everything wasn't as precisely controlled as
it had been with Ivano. Syreena had given her some leeway, but Maria also
obviously had a very strong will. She needed to humiliate her and see if that
broke her down. "Take your clothes off." Maria stripped immediately. Syreena
was somewhat surprised to find herself aroused by the sight of the naked girl
before her. She had expected a thrill at controlling the athletic little
beauty, but she was not prepared for the strictly sexual thrill which came with
seeing Maria naked. Maria was muscular and taut. It was obvious that the
natural quickness and uncanny body control that made a five-foot tall girl a
star basketball player had been augmented by countless hours of weight training
and a disciplined lifestyle. She wasn't all about work, though. Maria had
shaved her thick black pubic hair into a universally recognized symbol, a tiny
Nike Swoosh. The light-colored skin around the swoosh was incandescent in the
black light. "Hoping for an endorsement deal?" Syreena said. This time her
sarcasm was intentional.

Maria blushed and laughed gently. "I just like to be playful."

Syreena was taken off guard by Maria's relaxed response. "You seem comfortable
standing naked in front of another woman. Are you a lesbian?"

"I'm bisexual, but I usually prefer men."

"Another dyke athlete?"

"I hate stereotypes, but I hate unnecessary barriers even more."

"So, all those times you were nice to me, you wanted to fuck me?"

"I never thought you were a lesbian, so I never gave it much thought. You are
beautiful, but I was nice to you because I try to be nice to everybody." This
was exactly what Syreena disliked about Maria. She was so decent. Even her
perversions were enforced by noble ideas. "Have you ever been raped or sexually
abused, Maria?"

"No."

"On your knees."

Maria obeyed.

"Do you want to have sex with me now, bitch?"

"Not like this." There was a quaver in her voice.

"Good. Call me Mistress."

"Yes, Mistress."

"On all fours." Maria leaned forward and placed her palms on the floor. She
began to shake and quiver. "Crawl around the room." Maria crawled around the
room. Syreena watched with great interest. She rose up out of the chair and
stood over the frightened girl. She willed her to stop crawling and turn her
backside to Syreena. It was done. Syreena smacked Maria hard on the ass. Maria
cried softly. Syreena felt her own insides tighten to the thrill of absolute
sexual control, and the ability to dominate someone she despised. She knelt
beside Maria and smacked her several more times, each a little harder than the
last. Years of anger toward Jocelyn Rivers, all the other sweet little
princesses Syreena had known, and Maria herself were welling to the surface.
She continued to smack the taut little buttocks in front of her, "You perfect
little bitch!" she screamed. "You're always exactly what everyone wants, aren't
you? Everyone loves you! Not everyone, because I hate you! I hate all of you!
You're a whore!" Syreena stopped striking her; her hand was getting the worst
of the exchange with the muscular bottom it was striking. She reached around
and grabbed Maria's wrists and flipped her onto her back. Syreena straddled her
chest like a schoolyard bully. "You gave up your ability to feel anger and hate
just to have the boys all like you! You played their games!" Maria was weeping
in pain and terror. Syreena smiled cruelly. "Am I right?"

"Sometimes, Mistress, but I honestly just like people."

Syreena slapped her across the face, but was surprised to find that she pulled
up a little at the last second to take some of the sting off of the blow. There
was a flicker in Maria's eyes. She was as perceptive as anyone Syreena had ever
known, and she recognized the waning of Syreena's savage temper. "Thank you,
Mistress." Syreena's edge was gone. This girl didn't really deserve this, even
if she was the type Syreena hated most. Syreena rolled off of her. She walked
into the kitchen and brought Maria two cloths with ice. One Maria applied to
the tiny welt on her cheek. Syreena used the other to minister to the numerous
welts on Maria's backside. "You are trouble, little one," Syreena whispered.
"Tell me what you feel."

"I'm angry at your cruelty and at my own helplessness. I'm ashamed of myself
for not pitying you, but I feel like most of your anger and cruelty is because
of your own actions, not because of what others have done to you. And I'm
frustrated with myself for being aroused by the beauty of such a hateful little
bitch."

"H-m-m-ff," Syreena snorted and continued tending Maria's wounds.

"Mistress?"

"What?"

"May I leave?"

"No."

"How long do I have to stay?"

"Until I say so."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Mistress?"

"What?"

"May I bathe. I feel like I need to be clean."

"Oh, I should have prevented you from ever speaking," she said offhandedly. The
remark came out with scarcely a trace of unpleasantness. Syreena laughed
softly. She traced the curve of Maria's hips with the ice. "Bathe." The tiny
girl got up from her hands and knees and walked purposefully through the door
at the adjacent to the entertainment center and then stood perplexed in the
doorway. Syreena laughed gently. "The bathroom is through the bedroom, baby."
Maria turned, startled to be addressed so fondly, and then nodded quietly. She
went into the room and closed the door behind her. Syreena sent out a strong
thought through the door, commanding Maria that she was not to do anything
harmful to herself while she was away. "I never would, Mistress. Not
willingly," she called back through the door.

Syreena walked purposefully over to the well-stocked bar in the corner opposite
the entertainment center. She took a key from beneath the bust of Edgar Allan
Poe at the end of the bar and used it to open a locked drawer beneath the bar.
The CD changer had rotated discs and Fiona Apple was purring "Slow Like Honey."
Syreena sang along softly with the music, "Shall I release you, must I release,
as I rise to meet my glory, My big secret, gonna hover over your life, gonna
keep you reachin'..."

She used the key to open the drawer and withdrew one of her most prized
possessions, a bottle of a greenish fluid. The precious, dangerous and
forbidden nectar she had obtained at a very dear price. She feared its power
and rarely consumed it, but when she was at her lowest she would use it as a
refuge, escaping into an intoxicating absinthe embrace. She placed a sugar cube
in a teaspoon and dripped the bitter liquor over the sugar and into a small
glass of ice cold water. The mixture gradually turned a cloudy white. A strong
scent of anise rose from the concoction. Syreena locked the bottle back in the
drawer and replaced the key beneath the bust of Poe. She slowly sipped the
potent elixir as she waited for Maria to return. It was a long wait, and
Syreena, having emptied her glass, slid deep into her recliner and drifted off
to sleep. It was late afternoon before she awoke. Maria was sitting next to the
chair with her head on the arm when Syreena opened her eyes. She gently stroked
her thrall's beautiful black hair. Her mind was clear, now. "I am going to make
love to you, sweet thing, but I will be gentle."

"Yes. Mistress."

"Teach me how. I've never been with a woman."

Maria compliantly led Syreena to the bedroom and onto the giant, firm waterbed
which dominated the room. The shades were open in this room, and the bright
light reflected in Maria's dark eyes. There was both desire and loathing there.
Syreena understood, and her newfound tenderness almost won out, but her sexual
desire and her lust to exercise her power was too great. Maria's sweetness was
not yet enough to completely soften Syreena's dark side. She removed the t-
shirt, skirt and panties that her plaything had put back on after her shower.
She shuddered in anticipation as her tiny lover unzipped the back of her black
dress. Maria traced the long line of Syreena's spine with gentle fingertips and
then removed the black panties covering Syreena's slender buttocks.

"Women are not like men," Maria whispered. "When making love to a woman, you
focus on her entire body." She ran the back of her hand over Syreena's slender
buttocks and onto the backs of her legs. Gently urging Syreena onto the bed,
Maria crawled alongside her and kissed her tenderly on the lips. She stroked
Syreena's hair and then pulled it back from her swan's neck. Time and time
again, Maria kissed Syreena on the lips, down the neck and toward Syreena's
anxious breasts, but pulled back up to the lips again. Finally, Syreena parted
her lips and slid her tongue between Maria's lips. With a desperate longing,
Syreena crushed her lover to her mouth. She soon began fervently kissing
Maria's neck. Syreena no longer desired to be taught, she wanted to take over.

She rolled over on top of the tiny girl and began to grind her hips into
Maria's hips as her mouth roamed all over the smooth skin of her precious body.
Maria bucked with pleasure and began to frantically slide her hands all over
Syreena's slender body. Soon, her hands found Syreena's breasts and began to
knead them gently, but firmly. There was a deftness to Maria's touch that
Syreena had never experienced before. Whether it was simply the skill of a
woman pleasing a woman or another blessing of the amazing body of a
particularly gifted athlete, Syreena didn't know. She was certain, however,
that it was magnificent.

As their passion grew, Syreena caught the scent of Maria's womanhood. Without
the hesitation she had feared might come at this moment, Syreena lowered
herself past the design in her lover's pubic hair and placed her mouth into the
opening she found below. Maria clenched her hands tightly onto Syreena's hair
and began to writhe in ecstasy. There was a wildness in both of them, now. So
much had passed between them in their brief intimacy that there could be no
boundaries, no holding back, no self-consciousness. After a few minutes of
kissing and nipping, Syreena took Maria's clitoris into her mouth and sucked at
it desperately. Maria opened her mouth to scream, but her breath was taken
away. Her orgasm was powerful but silent, and it did not subside for a very
long time.

When it did, Maria was quick to recover control of her body. She pulled Syreena
forward onto the bed and positioned herself behind her. She reached around from
behind and began to stroke Syreena's moist labia. Syreena rocked back and
forth, trying to work Maria's hand up inside of herself. Maria slid her hand
back around and forced three tiny fingers into Syreena's vagina. Syreena
groaned in ecstasy and rocked harder than ever before. Maria then reached
around with the other hand and began to massage Syreena's clitoris. Skillfully,
she delayed Syreena's orgasm twice before she finally allowed her mistress to
finish. As Syreena collapsed onto the bed, waves of pleasure passed through her
body. She struggled to catch her breath for several seconds and thought for a
moment that she might pass out. It was at least a minute before she had the
power of speech.

"You're moving in tomorrow."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Can you forgive me?"

"Not until I am released."

"Even then?"

"I don't know."

"I will be kind, but I must possess you."

"Yes, Mistress."

It was morning before they left the bedroom again and Syreena had learned a
great deal more about making love to a woman before they drifted off to sleep
in each other's arms. The next few weeks of each of their lives was devoted to
giving one another absolute pleasure, but for different reasons. Finally,
Syreena began to tend to other matters, ensuring that both she and Maria had
straight A's for the semester and tending to Ivano.

It was a simple matter for her to release Ivano from his complete thrall. After
a delightful morning of lovemaking, she altered the way he felt about her. He
simply knew that he desired her and that he was to be at her disposal should
she ever need him. It was equally easy for Syreena to abandon her obsession
with Ivano. He had been an unobtainable prize. Now that there was no such thing
for her, her infatuation with him was over. She realized, of course, that her
physical attraction to him would not so easily wane. That was a matter easily
dealt with, however. He was never more than a thought away.

Maria was a more difficult possession to manage, however. Syreena was not going
to become a lesbian. She was now bisexual, obviously, but she was not about to
swear off men. Then there was the greater problem. She was very fond of Maria.
Very fond. She continually tried to gain Maria's trust and affection. She
desired Maria to make love to her of her own volition, but she was not about to
release her from thrall, because that might mean that Maria would leave
altogether, and that Syreena could not bear. For the time being, she would take
Maria however she could get her, and that meant commanding her presence.
Everyday it became more and more painful for her to treat Maria as less than an
equal, but she would not give in to what she considered a "weakness."

Meanwhile, the voices of the spirits she channeled became more and more
restless. Several of them seemed to be trying to trick her into yielding
control. It was exactly as Amamal had told her. One particularly troublesome
pair of spirits pretended to be a mother and child. The small child would plead
to the mother to make him stop having to do bad things. The mother would soothe
the child and then beg Syreena to release them all. Syreena called on Amamal,
who had taken an old house on the edge of town. Amamal smiled kindly and
soothed Syreena, ensuring her that she had gone through many similar
experiences and that when she released one spirit that had been disguising
itself as a child, it had taken over all the other spirits and nearly destroyed
her. "These are ambitious and deceitful personalities, whose spirits we
channel. They are grateful to have us to allow them to live in this world at
all, but they will also turn on you in an instant if they think that they can
gain control over your power. Until you send one back to the nether world, they
will vie for control. Once you have proven yourself to be stern enough to
dominate them, they will cease trying to betray you."

"So, I just focus on one spirit and picture myself strangling it?"

"Crushing like a piece of burnt paper would be more like it. Their existence
here is very fragile. They know that they experience this plane only at your
sufferance." Amamal smiled. "Child, I know you can do it. You are very
powerful. Now, I have someone waiting in the other room, a very special young
man I met recently. And to be truthful, I never get tired of young men,
although I hear you have somewhat."

"No, no. I've just rid myself of an old prejudice regarding certain practices.
Now, the world is filled with interesting possibilities."

"That's my goddess."

Syreena left Amamal feeling invigorated. Amamal's calm certainty about wielding
the power they possessed put her at ease and reminded her of the thrills and
pleasures it had brought her. On the walk home, Syreena began to draw up a new
list of people she would like to enthrall if she ever returned to her hometown
at all. She thought of Maria and wondered if Jocelyn Rivers was still as cute
as ever. Syreena passed the trail leading to the glade where she had first
become empowered. She felt a sharp longing to return there and relive the
genesis of her power.

She strode confidently down the path. It did not seem so treacherous in the
daylight. It was a perfect late autumn afternoon. The air was crisp and cool.
Syreena could scarcely believe the feeling of well-being that permeated her
being. She was nearing the home base of her power. The glade seemed friendly
and inviting as she spotted its edge just around the bend of the trail. Just as
she was enjoying this rare moment of spiritual bliss, the voice of the child
intruded upon her thoughts.

"Mother, please, can we go home now?"

The mother always hesitated before answering, as if she loathed soothing the
child with lies. As she began to speak, Syreena pictured her own spirit
crushing that of the disembodied voice of the mother. Amamal was right. It was
easy to locate and grasp the spirit. Syreena began to squeeze.

Suddenly, a sickening wail emanated from the glade ahead. It did not sound
quite human, but it was clearly calling out, "No!" Syreena's use of her powers
so near the glade had awakened something.

Syreena stopped crushing the troublesome spirit and looked toward the glade.
She walked slowly forward, unable to flee until she knew what was there. As she
found herself standing at the edge of the glade, she was horrified to see that
the cherry tree was no longer there. Fondal had taken his true form.

He was nearly seven feet tall, but he was not the disfigured monster she had
expected to see. He was stunningly beautiful. She had caught a glimpse of his
true "skin" when he tried to transform the first time Syreena had come to this
place. It was like a highly polished wood, smooth and shiny with a reddish
brown hue. His shape was that of a muscular man--something like a classical
Greek statue--and he was naked. Syreena had never seen such a beautifully
proportioned man. His eyes were as green as leaves; his face was expressive and
amazingly close to human. Syreena noticed all this fleetingly before her eyes
fell on his mighty hands. Large, powerful and certainly lethal. She knew she
had to go get Amamal; Syreena was no match for this kind of power.

"Don't flee!" Fondal's voice was clear and resonant, almost like a musical
instrument. "Please, child, I need to speak to you."

"Please, don't hurt me!" she squeaked, her voice seeming tiny next to his.

"I won't. I won't, unless I have to defend myself."

"Defend himself?" she thought. That meant she must pose a threat to him. She
strode into the glade and focused all her energy on him. She commanded him to
return to the form of the tree. Even if it only worked for a bit, she could get
away and get help from Amamal. Fondal shook his head slightly and raised his
mighty arms up over his head, as if someone had tried to bind him with a single
thread and he was simply shrugging it off. "I'm sorry!" She shouted. "I just
wanted to get away."

"With much training you could perhaps learn to wield enough force to bind me,
child. But you are far from ready for that. I am Fondal, and I have vanquished
many powerful foes in the millennia I have walked upon this earth. But I have
no wish to vanquish one who has been used as ill as you have been."

"Used?" Syreena was waiting for any opportunity to bolt.

"By Amamal. She is nearly as ancient as I, and our power is balanced. She
needed you to maintain her hold on me. Over the years, she has found many
powerful young sorcerers and sorceresses to tip the scales in her favor. When
they are of no use to her, she will destroy them, lest they become a rival."

"She has done nothing but help me."

"Yes and no. She has showed you your power, but given you no wisdom as to how
to wield it. Already you have been self-destructive. I can hear the souls of
those you have enthralled. The pain. Pain inflicted upon those whom you desire,
even upon one whom you wish to be your true friend and lover."

"Maria?"

"She is in pain, child. And you know it. And you nearly murdered a spirit who
wanted nothing more than freedom for herself and her child."

"Wow! Your head really is made out of wood. Those voices were deceiving me!"

"Amamal is deceiving you!"

"You're just trying to divide us so that you can gain control and destroy us
separately!"

Fondal's massive hand rose so quickly that Syreena did not even see it. It
clenched around Syreena's delicate neck and applied significant pressure.
"Release the woman and child, now!" his voice boomed. Syreena knew that she had
no choice. She willed that the spirit of the woman and child be released. It
felt to her as if a wind flew out of her chest. She heard the voices speaking
excitedly for a moment, but they quickly diminished into the distance. Fondal
released her. "I could destroy you in an instant, and set free all the souls
you have captured, but I do not desire to do you any harm. If you don't believe
what I am saying, ask yourself this question, 'What happened to the apprentice
who helped Amamal bind me here the first time?'"

Syreena had instinctively known all along that he was telling the truth, but
she had tried to convince herself otherwise. She now had to admit to herself
that she had abetted the wrong person. "Those voices?" She said at last. "That
really was a mother and child?"

"Yes."

"But Amamal..."

"...Lied to you! You captured all the restless spirits your magnificent gift
enabled you to ensnare. The innocent, the evil, the old and the young. Most are
willing to be held in your power. Amamal speaks truth when she tells you that
it is a thrill for most spirits to experience this world through a human host.
It enables them to feel things they had forgotten. For some, it will enable
them to find peace at last. That is my role on this plane. I am there to
protect the innocent restless spirits and help them find bliss, and to capture
the evil spirits and send them to their place in the nether world. With no
training and no wisdom of experience you are liable to crush the innocent and
succumb to the evil."

"What if I just set them all free?"

"In another time and place that would be the proper thing, but it is dangerous
to yield any power today. Amamal will already know that you are here." He
stopped for a moment and seemed to be searching his mind for something. "She is
on her way. If you assist her she will ensnare me and you will remain her
accomplice until she feels you are a threat. If you yield your powers or do
nothing, she will see it as a betrayal and destroy you instantly."

"So what do I do?" Syreena felt like she might cry.

"Join me in destroying her."

"Kill her?"

"The person whose body you see would have died long ago; she was just like you,
but she let an evil spirit dominate her. Not even a human spirit, but a nature
spirit like myself. It has kept her alive. You will not be killing a person,
but releasing her."

Syreena wished that she were anywhere else in the world. She had no desire to
do battle with Amamal. Whatever else she may be, Amamal was certainly deadly.
Yet, Syreena saw with equal certainty that Fondal was being truthful. And for
the first time in her life, Syreena faced another certainty. She had grown
weary of her own amorality.

She knew then that she needed Fondal's friendship and guidance through the
difficult times she would face in crossing the quagmire her life was surely
going to become when she accepted the moral responsibilities of her power. She
knew also that she must now either stand or fall with the beautiful creature
before her.

He sensed her fear. Gently he stroked her hair with his massive hand, "It will
be all be made right if you are brave, little beauty," he said softly and
stared deeply into her eyes. For the first time, Syreena sensed the loneliness
in this elegant creature. Perhaps, he had other human feelings as well.

Suddenly, he looked up toward the path. "Make ready," he whispered. Amamal
appeared at the edge of the glade. She wasn't walking or running, but actually
flew in an upright position. She landed and paused for a moment, sensing every
spirit in her surroundings. Syreena felt an icy finger probe into her mind.
Amamal was determining her allegiance. Without a word, Amamal then cast her
cold eyes upon Syreena. It was truthfully Amamal's only hope to destroy Syreena
in one stroke and then battle Fondal to a standstill and eventually escape to
seek a new accomplice. An ice-cold grip squeezed around Syreena's heart and she
could not breathe. She was about to die. She tried to counter Amamal, but could
not focus her thoughts due to the extreme pain and fear.

Fondal had not anticipated this direct attack on Syreena, but he did not sit
idle as Amamal murdered her. He launched himself like a missile into Amamal,
knocking her backwards and breaking her grip on Syreena. He stood over Amamal
and attempted to pound her with his massive fists, but it was obvious that
Amamal had some kind of aura which would not allow his blows to land on her
person. Syreena now saw her role in the battle. She was to break through the
aura. She regained her breath and focused all of her essence on Amamal, sending
her countless thrall commands. It was her hope that one or two would take and
distract her long enough for Fondal to land a killing blow. None of them had
any effect. Syreena attempted to focus on a single command, "Drop the aura!" It
was equally useless.

Suddenly Syreena remembered the night she helped Amamal capture Fondal. Syreena
had not focused her energy on Fondal. She had lent her power to Amamal.
Summoning her remaining strength, she channeled all of her energy into Fondal.
His fists began to move with incredible speed and power. From twenty feet away,
she could feel the wind and the vibrations as they cut the air. After a few
seconds there was a sickening wet crunch, followed by two more wet sounds.
There was a moment of silence and then a cacophony of screams of both joy and
anger, followed by a long cry of anguish and defeat. The evil spirit that had
dominated all the others passed into the nether world to dwell among the
horrors that abode there.

The glade was filled with a mass of spirits, some of whom had been freed from
captivity and others whom had been unwillingly banished from their human host.
Syreena stood in the middle of the glade and released every spirit held in her
sway. She even pushed out those who wished to remain. She had voluntarily
yielded her powers until she knew how to avoid channeling both those who were
unwilling and those who were evil. Fondal looked up from cleaning his hands on
the grass and smiled as he realized what she had done. "Liberan thronge! Mal
avanten! Bon lingaren! Pliante dwelanum!" he cried to the spirits. "I have
banished the evil spirits for the time being. Invite, do not compel, others to
join you now," he said to Syreena.

"Come if you wish to be friends," she said. She threw her arms open and felt a
rush of power enter her body. There were many spirits immediately present,
having just been released from both herself and Amamal. Syreena felt the power
continue to grow inside her. Her part in their rescue led the spirits to look
favorably on her, and Syreena soon was host to many times more spirits than she
had been in the past. And these spirits were willing guests, eager to help her
in her endeavors, and willing to share the immense store of magics and lore
that they had learned under Amamal. "Well done," said Fondal when the joining
was finished. "Well done, beautiful sorceress."

Syreena smiled as she looked at her newfound partner. The spirits within her
had answered her questions about Fondal. He did indeed have human emotions and
needs; nature spirits were quite lusty. The spirit which had dominated Amamal
provided ample evidence of that. Syreena did not speak, but went straight to
Fondal. He was warm to the touch, and as deft as any human. He smelled slightly
of cherries. His lips were not soft, but rather supple and strong, and they
tasted slightly like cherries. The power of his limbs was unquestionable, lusty
thoughts began to take her over her mind, but suddenly something she had
forgotten came rushing back into her mind. "What about Maria?" she whispered
and gazed up into his green eyes. "A difficult question, my beauty."

"You don't think she will do anything to hurt herself or to reveal my secret,
do you?"

"Not immediately. For all but the strongest of beings, thrall tends to take
weeks or even months to wear off. And for those strong enough to shake it off
the instant that the spell is no longer upon them, self-injury is never a
consideration. It will be difficult for her, but it becomes easier if the
master or mistress is there to gently guide them out of it, reassuring them
that they will be staying forever free."

"She won't ever be my friend again, will she?"

"Not likely, dear one."

"She was-she could have been my friend. She would have been my first real
friend," Syreena began to cry. She wept for several minutes, collapsing on the
grass. He knelt beside her and supported her.

"Now I am," Fondal said when she had finished weeping.

"You are what?" she said, not understanding his meaning.

"Your first real friend."

Syreena smiled and kissed him. She felt the amazing strength as his arms
encircled her, and the lusty thoughts began to return to her mind. It seemed as
if he was made to be her ideal lover, yet her sharp wit could not let the
strangeness of their coupling pass without mention. "That's um-quite a woody-
you have there."

"I knew you would say that sooner or later," he said and smiled. "I sense that
you are a creature with rather a warped humor."

"Yet you took me in your arms anyway?"

"Oh yes. You are beautiful and powerful, and no being that walks on this earth
is perfect."

"That includes you?"

"Of course, beautiful one."

"And from what flaw does the mighty Fondal suffer?"

"Splinters!" He laughed and held her close to his warm body. She kissed him
again. She paused for a moment and opened her mouth to ask a question. He
replied before she could ask. "No, not really." They laughed again. Syreena
felt like a playful child. This was to be new territory for her.

Never before had she trusted a willing lover. Syreena smiled and lay back upon
the grass. Fondal's mighty hands were deft, and soon she was as naked as he. No
urge had she to take control. She allowed his warmth to encircle her and
protect her from the sting of the autumn chill. His mighty weight was upon her,
but he supported it masterfully. Tightly it pressed her to the ground and bound
her to her place, but never did it threaten to crush her. He nuzzled briefly at
her neck as he allowed her body to warm toward acceptance of his size and
power. But the frenzy of battle and the elation of his freedom were still newly
upon him, and he could not restrain himself for long.

Slowly he slid himself inside her, deeper than anyone or anything had ever gone
before. There was a sweet pain inside Syreena, but with it came even more
powerful sensations. Captured beneath her mighty wooden lover, she felt him
fill her insides again and again. Indestructible, he seemed, and she found that
her wildest movements could neither injure him nor disrupt his ministrations.
Many times Syreena had kicked, bit and clawed lovers, mostly as acts of cruelty
to smitten weaklings but occasionally as deterrents to overly aggressive man-
children. With Fondal these actions were merely the throes of ecstasy. No
damage could be done to her lover, and too steady was he to accidentally damage
her due to her own movements. Syreena knew where their actions would take her.
With consummate skill he brought her to her peak and then, after slowing to
allow her to catch her breath, he brought her to it again. Each time she
screamed and kicked with passion, but always he maintained control. Syreena was
no longer a selfish child, however, and the concern began to grow within her
that she did not know how to bring him to climax and if she did so, what that
climax would be like. It was with delight and wonder that she came to find the
answer.

Fondal's breathing took on a familiar ragged rhythm. Syreena knew now that
whatever was to pass would happen soon. Fondal's thrusts slowed and became
deeper and more powerful than ever before. His breathing changed to deep gasps
followed by long exhalations. During these exhalations, his entire body
vibrated like the reed of some great woodwind instrument. So intense was the
pleasure this created for Syreena the she hovered on the brink of
unconsciousness, yet she knew that she must remain lucid until the end. Slowly,
almost imperceptibly, Syreena felt her body leave the ground. Mighty was the
magic in her spirit lover, and in his ecstasy they took literal flight.
Spinning and writhing, free of earthly constraints, they finished their
lovemaking. For more than a minute, they hovered in the autumn air over the
glade until their moment was finished and they lightly put back down to earth.

Little else was said between them on that day. The time of their next meeting
was set, but it was to be months from now. Fondal had much to do in repairing
the damage done by Amamal. A few brief words of advice he gave her on dealing
with the guilt that she would come to feel for many of her actions, and with it
he gave her forgiveness. So, too, did the spirits now contained within her.
Better they knew even than Fondal, the lure of power to a mortal. This brought
Syreena much comfort, and she was at peace but for one thing. As she left the
glade she set straight home for the Orleans and the tiny dark-haired beauty
awaiting her there.

Syreena Blacque had been surprised many times since she had first come to the
Glade of Spirits what seemed like a lifetime ago. But no events were ever quite
as surprising as those that followed the moment she opened her apartment door.
Maria had not fled the apartment upon being released from Syreena's spell, but
she obviously was one of those "strongest beings" Fondal had mentioned, for no
trace of her thrall remained upon her. A black leather jacket she wore, along
with tight black jeans and heavy black boots. Even in the eerie blue glow of
the black lights, it was obvious to Syreena that Maria was adorned in heavy
black eyeliner and dark eye shadow. She held in her right hand a small cat-o-
nine-tails which she tapped menacingly against the glass of absinthe in her
left hand.

Syreena began to speak, but Maria gestured to stop her. "Close the door,
bitch!" Maria commanded. Syreena stepped inside and closed the door. Maria
looked at her for a moment. She spoke directly and firmly with a restrained
anger. "I can still feel your power, but I know what you want more than control
over me. You want my forgiveness and my friendship. True, bitch?"

Syreena nodded.

"I have learned alot in our time together, and I know myself better than I ever
did before. And I know you, Syreena, better than I've known anyone before. Too
much has happened between us for us to just be friends. We could only be
lovers."

Syreena's heart leapt.

"But before any of that happens, I have to forgive you, and god dammit, I'm not
ready to do that yet. I know you have dark desires. I've catered to every
damned one of them. But you have not proven to me that you can serve my dark
desires. You were right about some things. I have held back my own needs too
often. I need a lover who I can share my darkest desires with, and I think that
lover is you! But I can't trust you until I know that you want me badly enough
to serve me the exact same way I served you!" Syreena's eyes filled with tears.
"I will do anythi-" she began to say.

"Shut the fuck up and take your clothes off, bitch!" Maria's dark eyes were
hardly visible in the dim light, but Syreena could sense the lust and welled-up
anger in them. Syreena dropped to her knees and slipped out of her dress. Maria
pushed her roughly to all fours. Syreena remained there as Maria delivered a
few vicious blows with the cat to Syreena's pale slender backside. "How does it
feel, wench?"

"It is a pleasure to serve," she said and bowed her head.

"What?" Maria said sharply and delivered another blow to Syreena's tender
buttocks.

She knelt there considering the delicate balance of her life. Powerless, she
was to defy the will of the tiny Latin goddess whose affection she craved above
all things, even though she easily had the power to command that same creature
to kneel before her. Great and well-honed was Syreena's power to command and
demand; even before the Glade of Spirits, she had known the role of the spoiled
rich girl well. Newfound and in need of nurturing was Syreena's power to serve
and to please. But, oh, how she needed this new power to keep her other powers
in check. And, oh, how she needed this power to hold onto Maria.

Through the tears which now ran freely down her face, and through the sting of
her mistress's sharp whip and sharper tongue, Syreena smiled, marveling at the
cornucopia of powers she had already found within herself, and wondering what
other powers a goth grrrl could yet conceal.

"It is a pleasure to serve, Mistress," Syreena whispered and did not know
whether she dreaded or longed for the next painful kiss from her new mistress's
whip.


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