Sorcerer’s Captive ©2003 by Reeva Days The copious rain was the only natural sound she’d heard in days. The constant drone of the hard drive was the background sound of her everyday life. Dessa pushed herself back from the computer. The mouse cord entangled her wrist and pulled her back, reclaiming its hold on her. Walking towards the large living room window, she marveled at the beauty of the outside world. The birds heralded (or so it seemed) her return to the real world as they serenaded her. She talked to one of the blue jays perched on the feeder nearest the window, eyeing her sideways with a reproachful stare. “I know, Blue, I look a fright. The computer, you know, it demands more and more of my time.” Looking down at herself, she could not believe it was already past noon and still, she had on the same thing she was wearing the night before. I don’t feel very sexy at all. I need to change! Gray sweatpants and a white spaghetti strap top were standard issue for her work-at-home attire. Hell, stay at home was all she did. Working as a freelance internet researcher had practically turned her into a machine herself. Last week she dreamt there were computer cables coming out of her scalp. Kind of ironic considering how disconnected she felt from the world since the breakup with her boyfriend a few months back. The third steaming cup of coffee and the sound of the rain kept her plugging away at the computer, which she’d nicknamed Sorcerer. Not a very creative name, but then again, her entire existence was not a very creative one. Not knowing much about the machinations of the computer made her marvel at its technology, thus the name. It was all magic to her. The rain increased along with the sound of encroaching thunder. Counting after the flash of lightning clued her to the storm’s proximity. “One thousand one, one thousand two . . .” She had to get her quota in for the morning before joining the early afternoon chat room break she usually took on the Internet. There were other home computer workers out there reaching out via their computers just like her, taking breaks from their monotonous computer jobs. She quickly pushed her chair away from the computer as a clap of thunder and flash of light scared her. Her hands were temporarily suspended midair over the keyboard. She waited for another clap. Nothing. After a few seconds she gingerly reclaimed the keyboard with nimble fingers. She chatted with Wolf, an on-line buddy she’d made friends with four months earlier in a chat room, right at the time of her breakup. Over the past few months, she’d confided in him now and then about the pain of the breakup. She confided in him freely what she withheld from her girlfriends. It was easier sometimes unloading to a person who couldn’t see your face, didn’t judge you or burden you with unsolicited advice. Her online identity was Red, for her mounds of unruly red hair. “Red, when u gonna be mine? Aooooooooooo! ” “what’s up, wolf” “why do u always answer my questions with another?” “why don’t u ask me a different question?” “there u go again! come on, we’ve been meeting online for over six months andstill u won’t give me the time of day. when we gonna meet for coffee? when?” “at least get the time frame right. four months. and just ‘cause we live in the same zip code doesn’t mean we have to meet. pretend I live somewhere else. “thank God for chat profiles, otherwise i’d have no clue about you. At least I know your zip code, my sweet! hey, for all u know, I could be a woman coming on to you.” “gross! wolf, really. u’r grossing me out big time . . .” “so put me to the test. I want to meet u.” Not wanting to get serious with him . . . “I’m an ugly woman with a unibrow and a few missing teeth. I look young for my age, though.” “a unibrow, huh? sexy! ok, that does it, let’s meet!” “LOL. u almost had me convinced!” “whenwhenwhenwhenwhenwhen?” “stop! okay, okay!” The beauty about computer jobs was that they both could key at remarkable speeds and carry on normal “conversations”. “ Aooooooooooooo!” “listen, gotta go. it’s lightning fierce over here and i’m afraid to stay online any longer.” “just say when and where and I’ll show up with red roses for my online lady . . .” “I told you wolf, i’m not like most women. i don’t like red roses, i like yellow roses.” “that speaks volumes about you, red. i like talking to u, getting to know u better . . .” Dessa’s smile turned into a painful grimace. “What the . . .” Excruciating pain shot through her arms and legs. An ice pick pierced her brain, slicing through it with incisor-like precision. She collapsed on top of Sorcerer. After a couple of minutes, electricity powered back on and the eerie glow from the terminal magnified her pallor as she slumped over the keyboard. * * * * * Gotta stop going online when it´s lightening. Damn!Her head ached with a dull, throbbing pain, a headache so painful, she couldn’t open her eyes. “Awaken.” A male stalwart voice instructed her. Seeing her unresponsiveness, the next instruction was a command. “ Wake!” Dessa struggled to open her eyes but couldn’t. A sleep hangover claimed her lids. Oddly, although she heard the strange man’s voice, she wasn’t afraid. Peeking through hooded lids she thought herself in hell at first. The silhouette of the stranger was backlit by a huge bon fire. Opening her eyes, the dark, inscrutable face loomed just inches above hers. His head was backlit with a halo from the bonfire, not enabling her to make out his face. She moved her head from side to side, inspecting her disturbingly altered surroundings. It was not a bon fire at all, but a huge fireplace big enough for a grown man to stand in. “Am I dead?” “Almost. But then again, I can hardly say you were living.” “Who are you?” Intrigued, her surroundings took second place to the mystery of the man before her. She came up on one elbow on the huge bed. “Sorcerer.” A wry smile played on Dessa’s pale, full lips. “Funny. That’s my computer’s nickname. I know this must be some kind of a joke, except I just don’t get the punch line . . . Sorcerer.” “Who is Computer? Is that your male counterpart?” Oh God! The computer, the lightning! That’s it! I must be dead? “Are you God?” A voluptuous laugh erupted from Sorcerer, beautiful white teeth juxtaposed against dark skin. Darker eyes were infused with light, knowledge and mirth. “Some people call me God, but I’m not. That’s part of a sorcerer’s job, to fill people’s minds with the impossible illusions I put in their heads and which they believe are theirs entirely.” “Oh, so you’re in advertising.” “Quiet! I don’t understand your talk.” “Listen, Sorcerer, enchanté and all that, but I gotta figure out where I am and get back home.” “Not so fast my lady. A few questions first. What is your name and whom are you spying for?” Dessa laughed then immediately frowned at the pain that it caused her. “My name is Dessa and I’m not a spy! I don’t even know where I am, Sorcerer.” “You appeared out of nowhere, found drenched and collapsed in the woods nearby. Probably struck by lightening from the looks of you. And no matter how you got here, the fact is that you are here, you’re a spy, and now you belong to me.” “I belong to NO one.” Her curls shook in agreement as she spat the words. Sorcerer´s benevolent countenance darkened as he stood up to his full six-foot plus frame, so fast, the end of his cape snapped at her thigh. She caught a swirl of a purple silk lining. The briefest hint of incense and leather caught her off guard, intoxicating her senses. She was surprised at her response to his proximity. He turned on her in an instant, cupping her right breast in his hand through her thin top as he sat at the edge of the massive bed. A weak protest escaped her lips, but the gloved hand closed more firmly around her breast. He rendered her immobile in his grasp, her pupils quickly dilating. He chuckled as he towered over her. He quickly removed his glove. Hand under her top now, her nipple immediately went erect under his touch. A slow grin spread over his face, crinkling the corners of his green eyes. He was beautiful, powerful and ageless. “You’re a spy. Now you’re my captive, and soon, my slave. Those are our rules. You spy and you become a slave. And yes, I see you respond to me. Perhaps you knew of my reputation and got a wee bit curious, no? Maybe you wanted me to capture you and torture you in exquisite ways.” Dessa recoiled at his premature intimacy as he pulled her even closer to him. Still, she was overcome with unwelcome desire. “Your woman scent tells me what I need to know. You respond without so much as a struggle of consciousness. Your body gives you away. I like that. I wonder how far I could take it now if I had a mind to. You have just sealed your fate, lady, and it corresponds with mine. You are my captive slave for as long as you want.” They locked eyes as a look moved between them she didn’t quite comprehend. “As long as I want? Gee, I don’t know what part of your last statement to address first. The fact that you want me as your personal slave, or the option of letting me choose the length of time I’m to be your slave, as if there were no other option for me. How arrogant you are!” She removed his hand from her breast. Sorcerer chortled. “You don’t have a choice, lady. You’ve already turned over your power to me.” “How so?” “This is how, my lady.” Gazing into her eyes, he purposefully slid his hand back into her shirt and fondled her other breast. Her response was the immediate intake of air, more shocked by his a...
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