"The only thing we can do is get letter and the ring back from DuLaque," Flynn said mournfully. He and his Companion had moved back into the front room after hours of brainstorming over cup after desultory cup of warmed, spiced cider in the kitchen, trying to find another—non-magical—way to help Cassandra and themselves out of this mess. Now they had to decide what the next step should be. As he and Eve now sat at the dining table in the front room of the Parsonage, he went on. "But I have no idea how we do that without resorting to the use of magic."

"Then we must use magic!" Eve said confidently, "What is the worry?"

"He is a witch-finder, Eve. If I am caught it will give him irrefutable proof that I am also a witch," Flynn answered her dourly. He shook his head and a look of disgust settled on his face. "Besides that, it is not a permanent solution. At best, it will only buy us some time. Even though Samuel's letter does not openly state that I am a witch, DuLaque has likely made the connection by now. He will eventually find a way to bring charges of witchcraft against us and have us executed for it."

"Then we must leave New England, all of us—you, me, Cassandra and Jenkins," Eve said firmly, as if the matter was finally settled. "If we can buy ourselves just enough time to do that, then it will be well worth the effort. We shall go to Europe, back to our own kind; it is the only way that Cassandra can be safe. And you know as well as I that it is the only place where she can be properly taught to be a sorceress."

Flynn gave her a look as though he might argue the point, but in the end he kicked his chair back from the table in angry disgust. "What a vile creature DuLaque is!"

"He is that," Eve agreed grimly. She reached across the table to lay her hand on Flynn's. "But do not fear, all will be well, DuLaque will not triumph. You have me and Cassandra has Jenkins!"

As if on cue, there was a loud, sharp pounding on the Parsonage door. Both the witch and his Companion jumped up from the table, but before either of them could get to the door it swung open and Jenkins, barely supported by the much smaller Cassandra, nearly fell inside. He managed to keep his feet long enough to close the door behind them before he fell back against it and slid against it to the floor. His eyes closed in near unconsciousness before he could speak a single word. Cassandra, her blue eyes round with alarm, threw herself onto the floor next to him.

"Jenkins!" she cried, her hands cradling his face. His skin was cool and clammy to the touch and his face was nearly as white as snow. "Jenkins!" Eve and Flynn were kneeling on the other side by now, and the minister gently laid the back of his hand on the Companion's forehead.

"He feels cold," Flynn said curtly, then glanced at Eve. "Help me to lay him out on the floor." Eve took the older Companion's shoulders, and in his barely-conscious state, Jenkins grunted in pain as Eve pulled him up from the door while Flynn grabbed his legs. After they had turned the heavy man and gently laid him out on the floor, Eve stood and looked down at her hands. She was shocked to see that her left hand was stained red from the blood that had soaked through the man's cloak.

"Flynn!" she barked. She held up her hand. Flynn's eyes widened.

"He is injured," Cassandra quickly cut in, "He has lost a great deal of blood. I tried to tell him that he needed to rest, but he said that we needed to come here at once!"

"Help me," Flynn responded in a tight voice, ignoring Eve as he began removing the semiconscious Companion's black woolen cloak. As soon as the garment was pulled back from his shoulders there was a collective gasp from the Carsens. In his haste to be on their way, Jenkins had only thrown on the bloodied shirt, not even bothering to close it properly. His movements in getting redressed and staggering through the village streets had caused his wounds to open and begin bleeding again, albeit much more slowly than before. The linen over his left shoulder and chest was near sopping with blood, plastering the fabric to his skin. Flynn and Eve quickly set to work stripping off the rest of Jenkins's clothes above his waist.

"Cassandra, what has happened?" Eve asked as she helped Flynn. Cassandra told them about what they found at the Grimstead farm, the attack by the pack of wolves, and how a large white wolf came to their rescue. At the mention of the white wolf, Eve and Flynn both froze mid-movement and exchanged alarmed glances.

"Jenkins told me that all Companions can change into an animal," the Cassandra said, seeing their discomfiture. Flynn said nothing as he carefully peeled the sodden shirt away from the old man's shoulder, revealing the four oozing, nasty-looking puncture wounds—two in the front, two in the back.

"Is that…a bite-mark?" Eve asked aloud, wonderingly.

"Indeed," Flynn grunted with a small shake of his head. He leaned closer and examined the injuries. "It looks as though his opponent got a good hold on him!"

"W-will he be all right?" Cassandra asked fearfully. Flynn gave her a somber look.

"The punctures are deep, and he has lost too much blood. He needs to rest and give his body a chance to replenish itself," he replied, his eyes going to Jenkins, and he shook his head. "If he can rest for just a few hours, though, he will recover fairly quickly."

"Can we get him upstairs?" Eve asked.

While Cassandra took his legs, Eve and Flynn took Jenkins's upper body and together they were able to half-carry, half-drag the heavy man up the narrow staircase. They took him to the closest room, the one Cassandra had been sleeping in, and got him into the bed. While Cassandra ran down to the kitchen to fetch hot water, clean cloths and bandaging, the Carsens removed the rest of the injured Companion's clothes and covered his lower half with the blankets. A few minutes later, Cassandra carefully carried a small bucket of steaming water up the stairs and set it down next to the bed. She plunged one the cloths she had brought along into the hot water, gingerly rang it out, and began to gently dab away the sluggish blood from Jenkins's wounds again. She didn't say anything, but Eve could see the look of misery mixed with intense concentration on the young woman's face, as well as the tears in her eyes as she tended to her Companion. Eve touched Flynn's arm to get his attention.

"We should go to the doctor's house and fetch some medicines, and more bandages," she said quietly, then more loudly for Cassandra's benefit, "He will recover without treatment, but it will help speed the process if we can stop the bleeding completely." Cassandra didn't seem to hear her, though, and she continued washing the blood from her Companion's body. The Carsens traded anxious glances, then turned and left the room together.


Just after midnight Cassandra awoke with a start, at first confused as to why she was sleeping in the chair and not in her bed. But the memory of earlier in the evening came back to her and she quickly sat up in the hard wooden armchair that she had fetched from Eve and Flynn's room. By the light of the single candle still burning on the small table next to her bed she could see Jenkins, his eyes closed, his breathing strong and regular.

She got up from the chair, her limbs stiff from slumping in the chair, unmoving, for so long in the cold room. She took a quick look at the cloth that she had used as a rough bandage and which now snugly wrapped his shoulder; to her relief she could see only tiny dark rust stains of blood seeping into its white surface: The bleeding had finally stopped. She sat down on her chair, one hand going to rub the back of her sore neck. She removed the stiff white coif from her head and set it on the table, then removed the pins holding her thick red hair up in a pile on her head. Proper women always had their hair pinned up and covered by the coif, a small bonnet, even at home. She'd been taught that it was a sign of modesty, but sometimes it just felt so good to let her hair fall loose. She wondered idly if sorceresses were required to cover their hair, too.

She closed her eyes and massaged her scalp with a sigh of relief. She had been so worried about Jenkins, despite Flynn and Eve's assurances that he couldn't die. That knowledge had been reassuring, but she still didn't like to see him hurt, see him suffering. To see him resting quietly now, the bleeding stopped, took a tremendous weight from her shoulders.

When she was finished with the massage, she opened her eyes and took a deep breath, then let her gaze sweep her Companion's entire body. He was far too tall for the bed, and his feet were dangling comically off the end of it, as well as half of his lower legs. She stood up and quietly moved to the foot of the bed to carefully tuck the blankets beneath him to keep his lower extremities warm in the chilly room.

She sat down again, the chair creaking softly beneath her weight. When they had returned from the Physician's House with ointments and proper bandages, Flynn and Eve had assured her that Jenkins would be fine. His injuries would heal much more rapidly than a mortal's would, he just needed rest. Even so, Cassandra refused to leave his side, and now her mind replayed the evening's events for her. How frightened she had been when saw his blood-soaked shirt! What would she have done if Jenkins had died? How would she be able live her life now after everything she had learned about herself, about the existence of magic? She could never go back to being the simple woman that she had been before her father died, nor did she want to. Especially not without Jenkins by her side.

She stayed with him after the Carsens had left for the night; she wanted to be there when he woke up, wanted to be the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes. As she watched him sleeping now, she was overcome by her feelings of love for him, and she marveled at the sensation even as she reveled in it at the same time. How had this happened so quickly? How had she fallen so deeply and completely in love with what amounted to a total stranger? She had only known him for a few weeks, really, actually knew very little about him—yet she knew that if she lost him now, her heart would shatter into a thousand pieces.

She scooted her chair closer to the side of the bed. She began adjusting the quilt around him, then remembered Eve telling her that she and Flynn had removed all of Jenkins's clothes while she was in the kitchen. With a soft gasp she realized that there only these blankets maintaining his modesty. And—even more concerning—they were alone!

Cassandra's heart began to beat more quickly. Remembering the bathing incident, she was suddenly overwhelmed with the wicked desire to see her Companion's naked body again. Surely a small peek beneath the quilt would do no harm? Especially since they were as good as betrothed in her eyes? She was less likely to make a fool of herself on the day of their Ritual of Binding if she already had a certain level of comfort with the sight of his..."physical attributes", after all.

The young sorceress unconsciously licked her lips as she slid forward on her chair, moving the candle to give the best lighting at the same time. She reached out and took the edge of the quilts between her fingers and began to raise them, slowly and carefully so as not to disturb the sleeping man. When she had raised them as high as she dared, Cassandra held her breath as she leaned forward and looked underneath them. Her mouth fell open and her eyes popped wide at what she saw, while at the same time a thrilling rush of warmth welled up from deep inside her abdomen and spread throughout her body.

"Are you pleased with what you see, Mistress?"

Cassandra yelped and snatched her hand away as if she had touched something hot, the quilts falling gently back over the Companion's body. Her head snapped around so hard to look at Jenkins that her long red curls flew around her shoulders. To her mortification she saw him looking back at her through slitted eyes, a tiny amused smile on his lips. Her shock and embarrassment almost immediately changed to angry embarrassment.

"Jenkins!" she snapped at him in a low, irritated voice. She had to restrain herself from slapping him. "Wicked man! How long have you been awake?" The smile spread lazily across his face.

"For some time now, actually," he answered, his voice rough with drowsiness. "I have been dozing on and off all evening, I think."

Cassandra was too relieved to stay angry with him, however. She awkwardly threw herself across his body and laid her head on his chest, draped her arms loosely around his body, taking care to avoid his injured shoulder.

"I was so afraid for you!" she murmured, closing her eyes, his heart beating strongly beneath her ear. Jenkins pulled his hands from beneath the quilts and laid them on her back, lightly rubbing it to soothe her.

"I told you, Mistress—I am immortal," he said softly.

"Eve and Flynn kept reminding me of that, but I was still afraid for you!" Cassandra answered. She sat up, moved to sit on the edge of the bed and looked down at him.

"Why did you not tell me sooner that you can change yourself into other creatures?" she demanded reproachfully. Jenkins shrugged his good shoulder.

"I did not think it time to reveal that yet," he answered, "It is a bit of our own magic that we use in service to our witches, but…" Jenkins paused and sighed, an apologetic look coming to his face. "I did not think it wise to tell you about it until you were more comfortable with magic as a whole." He waved his hand in the air. "This place is...uncommonly suspicious of magic, and I did not wish to frighten you." A look of pity suddenly came to Cassandra's face, and then she lay across his body again in a clumsy embrace.

"Poor Jenkins!" she murmured sadly, "How unhappy you must be, trapped in this world where magic is so hated and feared." She felt the comforting weight of his hand come to rest on her back again.

"I am not unhappy, Mistress," he rumbled sternly, "As long as I am in your service, I count myself the most fortunate of Companions!" She sat up so she could see his face.

"What if I decide to never use magic?" she asked, her blue eyes searching his with an unusual intensity he had never seen before. Jenkins smiled up at her.

"That is your decision to make, Mistress," he answered, "And whether you choose to use your magic or not, I will remain at your side as your Companion, always."

"What if—" Cassandra hesitated, bit her lower lip, not in anxiety, but more in thoughtfulness, as if fearful of pushing him too far. But she had to know the answer to her next question. Now.

"What if I do not want a Companion?" she whispered. A stricken look passed over the man's face and then was gone.

"It is your right to dismiss me at any time," he answered, his voice suddenly diffident, "Even after we are Bound, though that is rare, but if you find me unsatisfactory in any way—"

"No!" she interrupted him, "What I meant is—what if I only want...a mate?" Another small smile played on his lips as his expression relaxed. He met her gaze fully and lingered, sending a shiver down her back as if he was searching the very depths of her being. A knowing look finally came to his warm brown eyes as he reached up to lay his hand on her cheek.

"Then it is a mate you shall have—until you are ready for a Companion, also," he said.

"And if I am never ready for a Companion?" A positively smug expression overtook Jenkins as he lazily, gingerly stretched his long arms over his head and closed his eyes as if to go to sleep again.

"Oh, you will be ready for a Companion, Mistress—one day," he said laconically and then opened his eyes again. "I know it for a fact!" As he looked up at her, she could see that they were filled with a fiery conviction that sent a thrill of unexpected excitement through her body.

And suddenly she truly understood: He believed in her. He believed in her, in her abilities, in her magic, and in everything that went with that. He believed in her determination to learn magic, her respect for its power to do good or evil and her wisdom in how she used it. She was a sorceress; she would, indeed, become a sorceress, he had no doubts about her whatsoever and would wait for however long it took for her to realize it as well and have that same level of confidence in herself.

"Oh, Jenkins!" she exclaimed softly, her love for him filling her heart to near bursting. "What a wonderful man you are!" His fingers lightly brushed the apple of her cheek in reply.

Cassandra smiled and laid her head on his chest a third time. She closed her eyes and spent the next few seconds simply being happy and content, listening to his steady, comforting heartbeat, grateful that for at least a few precious moments she was able to forget about the events of earlier in the day. Too soon, however, thoughts of Magistrate DuLaque and their current troubles forced their way back into her consciousness.

How I wish we could go on just being like this she thought with a soft sigh. Just Jenkins and I, lying together forever, happy and safe…

She bolted upright, her eyes wide.

"Mistress?"

"Jenkins!" she said, her voice low and earnest as she gazed steadily down into his questioning eyes. "What happens at the Ritual of Binding? Tell me everything, exactly." Jenkins shrugged his shoulder.

"It is really very simple," he answered, "We exchange vows and then we join our bodies."

"But what are the exact words of the vows?" she pressed, her brow furrowing.

"And do we need witnesses, as are required in marriages?" With a puzzled frown, Jenkins slowly, carefully pushed himself upright until he was sitting up in the bed and leaned his back against the wall behind him.

"There are no set words, Mistress," he answered, "We simply speak to each other from the heart. Essentially, I promise you that I will be your loyal and obedient Companion for the rest of your life."

"And what vow do I make?" she asked eagerly. Confused by his mistress's sudden interest in the binding ritual, Jenkins became guarded as he answered her question.

"You may vow whatever you wish," he said, a wary expression coming to his face. "Most witches promise to treat their Companions kindly and to listen to their advice with open minds and hearts. But you are the sorceress, Mistress; you may promise whatever you wish—or nothing at all. It is up to you." At his words, she felt a further burden lift from her heart, but at the same time she reproached herself for her reluctance to talk with Jenkins openly about the Ritual of Binding before now. With each passing day since their meeting she could see more and more clearly just how small and ignorant her world really was. Now she suddenly longed to be shed of it entirely.

"Then I think that we should perform the Ritual of Binding now, tonight!" she said, almost breathless at her own impulsiveness. Jenkins blinked in surprise as he gave her a look of disbelief.

"Tonight, Mistress?" he echoed, bemused by her sudden change of heart. Cassandra nodded her head vigorously, more certain by the second of her decision.

"Now," she said firmly, "Right now!" Jenkins's face turned serious as he leaned forward, but she could feel his hopeful eagerness nonetheless.

"Are you certain, Mistress?" he asked solemnly, "For once it is done…" Cassandra pressed her lips together tightly for space of a heartbeat before nodding her head, her eyes never leaving his.

"Yes, I am certain!" Jenkins gave her a nod in acknowledgement.

"Very well," he said. He reached out and took both of her hands in his. He looked down at them as he held them gently, mentally preparing what he wanted to say, then raised his eyes to look straight into Cassandra's.

"Cassandra Cillian," he began, his rich voice sonorous under the weight of the occasion, "I swear to you that I shall be your Companion, that I shall remain faithful to you, obeying only you—" He paused a moment before continuing on in an almost bashful tone, but his eyes never left hers the entire time. "That I shall do everything in my power to make you happy and to keep you safe, that I shall love and cherish only you, my most beautiful, beloved Mistress, until Death comes to part us."

Cassandra felt her eyes fill with tears at his simple, heartfelt vows. Love for this strange, wonderful man filled her and it was a moment before she could trust her voice again.

"Jenkins," she said, her voice trembling with emotion as she squeezed his hands. "I swear to you that, even though I am a sorceress, I will treat you with all of the respect due to you as my equal. You will be my partner, not my servant. I beg you not obey me as slave obeys a master, but as a man who wishes to fulfill the desires of his own heart. I ask you do everything out of the love you have for me, not out of blind obedience or fear. I ask you to be with me willingly, not out of obligation."

Jenkins's dark eyes never left hers as he turned on the bed, swinging his legs to set his bare feet onto the cold floor. He stood up, and Cassandra followed his lead. For her sake, he took care to keep himself covered with one of the quilts; he let go of her just long enough to wrap it around his waist and tuck it in. He then took her face between his hands.

"We must now seal our vows with a kiss; may I kiss you, Mistress?" he asked, almost whispering. Her round blue eyes never wavered as she gave him a tiny nod of assent.

Jenkins gently turned her face up as he lowered his to meet her. He touched his lips to hers in the softest of kisses—once, twice. He could feel her entire body trembling, felt her breathing stop dead as his lips hovered over hers for a moment. He turned his head and kissed her face just under her cheekbone, then again on her neck where it met her jawline. Cassandra's eyelids fluttered closed as she felt the tiny tingling explosions blooming on her skin where his lips touched her. She shivered slightly as he moved downward to kiss her neck where it joined her shoulder, and there was a soft, short rasping intake of air when she remembered to breathe again in quiet, uneven gasps. When Jenkins raised his head and looked down at her; her eyes slowly opened, clear sky blue with black, dilated centers that burned hungrily into his.

He seemed to falter for a moment as he looked into those feverish eyes. His long fingers slid into her rich red silken hair on their way to the back of her head. His other hand went to the side of her face and lightly rested there, the warmth of his skin burning against her cheek. Cassandra felt her heart racing as he lowered his head to kiss her again. This time he was more insistent, first softly sucking her top lip, then her full bottom lip between his teeth and lightly biting her. Her body sagged against him, a tiny whimper of pleasure sounding in her throat as her brain lost all coherent thought, her hands fluttering gently, helplessly at her sides before finally finding their way around his body.

He responded by covering her mouth with his and slipped his tongue between her small teeth. Her eyes fell closed as her mouth fell open. She whimpered again, louder this time, as he ran the tip of his tongue over the roof of her mouth, teasingly brushed it against her tongue before he withdrew. The kiss lasted only a moment, but it left Cassandra breathless and limp. She slowly opened her eyes, saw his gazing intently down at her. She could've sworn she saw apprehension in them, but then it was gone.

"Our vows are sealed," he whispered in a low rumble, "Shall we continue?"

"Yes!" she hissed at once. She felt dizzy and euphoric and terrified all at the same time as he released her, then held out one hand to her. Cassandra put her hand into his.

"May I undress you, Mistress?"

Unable to speak, Cassandra nodded again. Jenkins reached around her small body and untied her apron, tossed it away after removing it. He began to unlace the bodice of her plain brown waistcoat, slowly and carefully, taking his time. When it was loose enough at last he gently pulled it off and tossed it away, too. Her stays were next, quickly joining the messy pile of clothing off to the side of them. Her long skirt followed, leaving her standing before him in only a thin shift, her shoes and stockings.

He knelt and lifted first one foot, then the other as he removed her heavy, worn leather shoes and deliberately set them aside. His hands then slipped beneath the hem of her shift, ran lightly up her left leg until he found the garter holding up her stocking. He pulled it free, slowly and sensuously rolled the stocking down her leg and off of her foot. Cassandra felt a tingling throb in her groin at his touch, and warmth spread from there and into her belly despite the chilliness of the room. By the time he was finished removing her right stocking, Cassandra was light-headed and scarcely breathing.

Jenkins stood up and reached out to untie her shift, the last piece of clothing that hid her from his view. His glittering brown eyes locked onto hers again as he gently pushed it over her thin shoulders. It fell into a soft ring around her feet, leaving her body completely exposed.

Jenkins took a moment to let his gaze wander leisurely over the length of her naked body. Cassandra stood stiffly, her eyes never leaving him, her long, thin arms held straight at her sides, her hands unconsciously balled into fists. Her hair cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders and down her back, seeming to glow like a fiery halo around her head in the candle's light. The cool air of the room quickly teased the rosy nipples of her plump breasts into hard points. With one hand he tenderly caressed her left breast, his thumb brushing the stiffened nipple. At his touch, a sharp gasp escaped Cassandra, a quiet whine sounded in her throat, but she continued to look at him unwaveringly in the eyes.

"Do you enjoy that, Mistress?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "Shall I continue?"

"Yes!" She was barely able to form the single word. Her body was visibly trembling now.

"Are you afraid, Mistress?" he whispered, watching her closely. Cassandra shook her head, almost in defiance.

"No!" she whispered back. Jenkins smiled, his hand still on her breast.

"I think you are trying to be brave for my benefit," he replied, his voice light and flirtatious now. Her eyes fell for a moment before rising to meet his again.

"I am not afraid," she insisted quietly, "But I am nervous. I…I have never…been with a man before now…" The Companion's hand moved from her breast to her face.

"Do you trust me, Mistress?" he asked, his expression serious, "Do you trust me not to hurt you?" She took as deep a breath as her nerves would allow and nodded.

"Yes," she whispered, and he could see in her burning blue eyes that she was telling him the truth.

"Sit down, please," he ordered. With a slightly puzzled look, she obeyed. She sat in the chair primly, with her back straight and her knees together, as she had been taught to do since childhood. Jenkins couldn't completely hide the smile of amusement that came to his face at that.

"Sit on the edge, like this," he elaborated, grasping her hips to gently tug her bottom forward. "Now lean back; close your eyes and try to relax." Cassandra did as he told her and draped her hands over the ends of the chair's arms as she made herself as comfortable as possible.

She sensed that Jenkins knelt on the floor before her, so she wasn't alarmed when she felt his hands on her knees. She resisted instinctively at first when he tried to gently pry them apart, but she forced herself to relax and allowed it. It was then that she felt his lips on the insides of her thighs, softly kissing her; slowly trailing the tip of his tongue along the inside length of each thigh, pausing only long enough to lightly bite, then kiss her sensitive skin; deliberately teasing her sensuously until she gasped loudly and began to squirm as the delicious fire burned throughout her entire body in a flash. Jenkins had to clasp her legs tightly to hold her in place as he continued to work his way up and down her thighs, first one, then the other. She was just beginning to truly relax and enjoy the sensations he was producing in her when, without warning, he was kissing her…there! On her secret place, the one place that no modest woman ever spoke of in proper company.

Cassandra cried out, waves of fiery pleasure washing over her and making her drunk with bliss. Her hands gripped the hard wooden armrests of her chair as she squirmed, her back slightly arching while Jenkins tightened his hold on her. She felt his lips on her, kissing and nipping, and then she felt his tongue, soft and hot, enter her, probing her, sending her into paroxysms of delight. Her hands flew from the chair to his head, her fingers wrapping around fistfuls of his long hair. She softly cried out his name and tried to pull him even more deeply into her, tried lifting her hips from the chair to meet him, suddenly desperate for him to go even more deeply into her. She heard him snort quietly in delight, felt his breath against her flesh as he enjoyed her reaction to his ministrations.

Her groin throbbed with each lick and nip and kiss. She soon felt something beginning to build inside of her, something that she had no name for. She was eager for it to manifest itself, but she was frightened at the same time. She had no idea what was happening to her, but she found that she was enjoying it immensely, wanted nothing more than to see where this intoxicating sensation led her.

Suddenly, a small reproving voice warned against what was happening, that it was wrong and a sin, begged her to stop it, now, before she crossed a boundary from which there was no return. She was on the verge of obeying that warning voice and was just about to shove Jenkins away. But then she heard another voice sounding in her feverish brain, screaming the words that Eve Baird had taught her not so long ago.

It is not a curse!

Cassandra mentally seized onto the words like a drowning woman would seize upon a tree branch. She tried to say the words aloud, but all that came out of her mouth were moaning gasps and cries of pleasure.

It is not a curse! It is not a sin!

With no warning her entire body was slammed by a series of shockwaves that radiated from deep within her own body. Her back arched violently in the chair, her head thrown back as she cried out in wordless ecstasy with each new delicious pulse that racked her. When the strongest of them had passed, she dropped back into the chair, her head lolling to one side, her chest heaving. She panted in contentment, her eyes closed, unable to form any thoughts. All she could do was sit limply and allow herself to soak in the pool of sheer pleasure that continued to lap over her ever more gently now. She never even noticed when Jenkins raised his head, gingerly loosening and then pulling free her clutching fingers still entangled in his hair.

"Was that a pleasant experience for you, Mistress?" he asked, a poorly-concealed note of self-satisfaction in his voice. It took a moment for his words to register with the dazed woman. Cassandra eventually lifted her head and gazed expressionlessly at him, her eyes glassy and her cheeks flushed.

"Was that...was that your sex magic?" she asked wonderingly. Jenkins cocked his head, puzzled.

"I beg your pardon?" he replied, "What do you mean, Mistress?" Cassandra struggled sit upright in the chair.

"Your sex magic," she repeated, more firmly this time. "Eve told me about how Companions possess sex magic, to help make the Ritual proceed more smoothly." Jenkins then realized that Eve Carsen must have made up some silly story in order to calm his mistress's nerves about joining her body with his. A wry smirk lifted one corner of his mouth.

"Ah, yes—of course," he murmured, struggling to keep a serious look on his face. Best to play along for now; they were at the most critical point of their Binding and he didn't want his mistress to become fearful or panicked. "That is something that...we do not generally speak of, even with our witches. But, yes—I do possess a certain magic that...facilitates Bindings." Having caught her breath by now, Cassandra sat upright, her eyes looking intently into his.

"Is...is the Ritual finished, then?" she asked hesitantly, a note of disappointment clearly heard in her voice. Jenkins shook his head and smiled.

"Not quite, Mistress," he answered, and reached out to take her hands into his. "It is not done until I enter your body, as human males do with females." Cassandra unconsciously bit her lower lip in anxiety; how could she have forgotten about that part of the ritual? But she didn't pull away from him. Jenkins let go of her hands and stood up. He untucked the quilt from his waist and tossed it away. He stood naked before the young woman and her gaze went immediately to his half-erect manhood. Her blue eyes went back to his; this time he did see a shadow of fear in them, but when she spoke her voice was strong and determined.

"Tell me what I must do," she said, and the Companion's heart filled with pride for her bravery. He bent over to take her hands again and gently pulled her up from the chair.

"Since this is your first time, I will lie on the bed," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on hers. "You will straddle me and I will guide myself into you as you lower yourself onto me. Move at your own speed. You may feel some pain, but it will be brief." Cassandra solemnly nodded her head, her eyes wide and shining.

"And that is all?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Jenkins shook his head.

"No," he answered solemnly, "But once you have done your part, I will take over. I must..." He struggled for a moment to remember the proper Puritan phrasing for what had to come next, so that Cassandra would understand clearly. "I must 'place my seed' within you, Mistress. Then the Ritual will be complete. But I will strive to make it as pleasurable for you as possible." Cassandra pressed her lips together in resolve and took a deep breath.

"I am ready!"

Jenkins led her to the bed. He lay down on his back and scooted to the middle of the thin mattress. Cassandra then climbed into the bed and straddled him as he had instructed her. As she knelt over him, Jenkins laid one hand on her hip and with his other hand he grasped his manhood. She watched, utterly fascinated, as he began to stroke himself and he grew even longer and harder. To her amazement her fear left her utterly, replaced by the burning desire to feel Jenkins inside of her. He grunted occasionally as his breathing became heavy and irregular, then turned to a gasping pant punctuated by low-throated grunts. She glanced at his face; his eyes were closed and his expression seemed to be one of pain, but instead of stopping he only tightened his grip around the stiff shaft and moved his hand over its length faster. She felt her groin begin to throb again and filling with the now-familiar warmth. Her eyes caught sight of her Companion's testicles, and before she knew what she was doing, she had reached out her hand and gently grasped them. Their skin was hot and taut, their contents firm; she gave them a tentative squeeze. Jenkins uttered a rasping cry, his hand stumbling for a moment in its rhythmic stroking. Cassandra snatched her hand away.

"Forgive me!" she cried, thinking she had hurt him. But Jenkins only laughed softly, almost deliriously and opened his eyes. They were black and hot, a look of powerful hunger in them that sent an exciting shudder through her body.

"Wicked Mistress!" he rasped, but his rough voice was playful. When Cassandra smiled shyly, he released his manhood and firmly grasped her hips, urging her to move up and over him. She obeyed without a word until she was directly over his stiff member.

"Are you ready, Mistress?" he asked. Despite his own haze of lust he carefully searched her eyes and face for any sign of hesitation or fear. But Cassandra only nodded once, her body trembling in anticipation beneath his hands.

"I will try to be as gentle as I can," he said, "But if at any time you are uncomfortable or change your mind, tell me and I will stop at once. Do you understand?" Again she nodded; this time he noticed a look in her glittering blue eyes as they stared into his, a look that reminded him of something born wild that had been caged and was now about to taste freedom again.

He grasped himself with one hand again; with the other he guided her body and directed her to lower herself onto his stiff, yearning cock. Cassandra closed her eyes and gasped as she felt him enter, tight and uncomfortable at first, but she continued to lower herself slowly, inch by inch. She kept waiting for the excruciating pain that she knew must come from having something so large and thick and hard inserted into her small body. Suddenly she felt one quick sharp stab low in her groin; she sucked in a breath and held it as she continued to sink onto Jenkins, expecting more and sharper pain, but it never came. Relieved and almost giddy that it hadn't been nearly as bad as she had expected, Cassandra let her head fall back and she laughed in relief as she let her body slide quickly over the rest of Jenkins's cock. Without a moment's hesitation, she got her knees into position beneath her and began to ride him, instinctively raising and lowering her body on him slowly, enjoying the sensation of the long shaft of hot, hard flesh gliding in and out, in and out. She was so focused on her senses that she almost didn't hear him groaning in pleasure beneath her, nor felt his strong fingers digging into her hipbones.

"Do you enjoy that, Mr. Jenkins?" she mimicked him in a coy, husky voice as she stared down at him. His eyes opened and he gave her a wolfish, hungry look.

"I do, Mistress!" he ground out.

Suddenly Cassandra found herself on her back; Jenkins was above her now, his cock still inside of her. He was staring down at her, his dark eyes filled with want that not even her Puritan upbringing could mistake. But now rather than being embarrassed or feeling self-conscious, she merely pouted dramatically up at her Companion.

"Are we finished already?" she asked in a sulking tone, knowing very well that they weren't. "I had expected more from a Companion as...abundantly gifted as you are!"

Jenkins was momentarily surprised by this change in his mistress's demeanor, but he quickly accepted it. He had heard stories in the Void that the Ritual of Binding sometimes changed a witch, that it set something free inside of them that they hadn't permitted to show before. Her gently challenging words set something off inside of him, as well. He lowered his head and kissed her ferociously, his tongue conquering hers, his teeth nipping her lips first and then then tender skin of her throat, causing her to moan and writhe pleasantly beneath him. At last he raised his head and gazed down at her panting figure with a smug expression on his face.

"You have taken a decidedly saucy turn, Mistress!" he murmured appreciatively. He pulled his manhood partially out of her, then rammed it back into her with a satisfied grunt, while Cassandra squealed with delight at the delicious sensation. "I think that you are more than ready to complete this Binding!" She returned his stare boldly.

"Do it!" she breathed eagerly, and wrapped her long legs tightly around his waist. "Do it now!" Another wolf-like smile came to his lips.

"I obey, Mistress!" he growled cheekily. He planted his hands on either side of her head and began thrusting into her, slowly at first, but quickly built up speed and intensity until he was in a full rut. Cassandra locked eyes with him and slid her hands over his chest, then around to his back. She raked his hot skin with her nails again and again, stoking his lust even more.

Then, as unexpectedly as her climax had struck her, Jenkins's release fell upon him like a stone. His rhythmic thrusts stuttered for a moment as he cried out, but he quickly regained his momentum and continued to slam into her for a few more seconds, his eyes never leaving hers the entire time. She felt his cock pulsing deep within her body, could feel his seed entering her. At last he dropped to his elbows, gasping for air. He dazedly nuzzled the skin of throat, then moved down her chest; his lips brushed against the nipple of her right breast and he latched onto it, kissing and sucking it. She moaned and burrowed her fingers into his hair again. Eventually his mouth found hers again and they kissed, long and slowly this time, before he finally rolled his body off of her and lay on his back beside her, breathing heavily while he rode out the last vestiges of his ecstasy.

It was then that Cassandra was aware of the sticky wetness between her legs. Instantly sobered, she silently got up and patted to the pail nearby as he watched her. She wetted the cloth in the now ice-cold water and rubbed it between her legs, the coldness shocking her even further back to reality. When she pulled the cloth away she saw that there was blood, but not nearly as much as she had feared. She quickly finished cleaning herself and tossed that rag away. She carried the pail and a clean rag over to Jenkins; she quickly cleaned him, too, then set the pail and cloth aside. Feeling the cold air of the bedroom chilling her skin into gooseflesh, she quickly climbed back into the bed with him. She snuggled against his body as he lazily pulled the remaining quilts up to cover them both. Jenkins then turned to loop his long arms around her and pulled her close.

"My brave, beautiful Mistress," he whispered into her ear, then gave it a soft kiss before he burrowed his face into her hair.

"T-the Ritual is complete now?" she asked, her voice shaky after what she'd just experienced began to sink in. She felt him nod his head.

"Yes, Mistress," he said softly, "We are now Bound. I am yours and yours alone for as long as you wish it, until Death separates us."

"That is too bad," she answered mournfully. Jenkins at once propped his body on his elbow and gazed down at her, concern on his handsome face.

"What do you mean, Mistress?" he asked. She turned her head to look at him.

"I...I...enjoyed our Binding," she explained hesitantly, and looked away from his piercing gaze. "I wish that...that we could do it again." There was a moment of silence before Jenkins burst into hearty laughter. Cassandra's head snapped back to him and she glared angrily up at him.

"What is so amusing?" she demanded, hurt by his reaction. Jenkins quickly got his mirth under control and laid his hand on her cheek as he looked down at her adoringly.

"I think you are laboring under a misapprehension, Mistress!" he said, more serious now, "The Ritual of Binding happens only at the first time we join our bodies, but that does not mean that we may never join again!" Cassandra blinked at him.

"It does not?" she asked. Jenkins shook his head.

"We may join together as often as we wish," he said, surprised, "In fact, the more frequently we join our bodies, the stronger our bond will become!" Cassandra's heart began to pound with excitement.

"It will?"

"Indeed!" he confirmed in a growl full of rekindling desire. He lowered his head to nuzzle her ear, licking and nipping the lobe. Cassandra felt her body respond at once.

"Can...can we do it again? Right now, I mean?" she asked in a timid voice. Instead of laughter this time, Jenkins quickly moved his body to straddle hers again, looming over her on his hands and knees. She glanced down and saw that his cock was already beginning to stiffen again in anticipation.

"Indeed we can, Mistress!" he rumbled lustily, and lowered his head to kiss her breast tenderly.

"But one thing must change!" she said in a firm, quick voice, and Jenkins instantly raised his head expectantly.

"Whatever you wish, Mistress!"

"You must stop calling me 'mistress'," she said petulantly, and almost burst into laughter of her own at the look of confusion that came to his face. She quickly quashed the laughter and looked up at him with adoring eyes. "My name is 'Cassandra'. We are equals now. Please call me Cassandra—at least when we are alone?" A small smile came to Jenkins's lips before he lowered his head to kiss her cheek before moving to her ear. He scooped her up and held her tightly as he sat back on his heels.

"As you wish—Cassandra," he murmured quietly, then kissed her hair before nuzzling first her throat, then her breasts.

"Cassandra," he breathed, and began to repeat her name over and over, a fervent, whispered prayer as he began to make love to her again.

"My brave, beautiful Cassandra..."