Mirror Bound

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  I gave the cloth to Paul, to clear any spilled glue off Lukas' stump or hair.

  And I touched the base of the stump, to 'feel' how the cap fit the horn.

  Searching out the flow in the horn, I followed it up to the point where it touched the silver of the cap.

  The flow was resuming its natural course, going down again instead of just up. And where it contacted the silver cap those square things in the flow were already starting to accumulate to form a kind of barrier between the flow and the silver. I'd check again tonight.

  Coming out of the trance I felt Lukas take my hand. He asked: 'Did it work?'

  I looked at him from the outside, and despite the blood still matting his hair, he did look better. The bleeding had clearly stopped, and with the silver cap the horn stump didn't look as sad. Paul answered: 'It looks like it worked, from the outside, how was it from inside?

  I replied: 'It looked like the other horn, except some substance inside the flow of the horn was sticking to the silver, but I got a feeling that was supposed to happen. I'll check again tonight. Now I'd like to get something to eat.'

  But clearly we had mistaken Lukas, for he was not at all concerned about his health, he wanted to know if something else had worked: 'I know I will live, I feel much better already. I meant, can I go outside, are my horns gone?'

  Paul and I laughed helplessly, relieved our friend had his cheekiness back, but also worried what would happen when we released him on the world outside. Paul shook his head and fetched a mirror, holding it in front of Lukas: 'See for yourself.' Lukas did, clearly quite satisfied with the result, pain and shock apparently already forgotten.

  Pushing his springy curls away from the stump with the silver cap, he studied

  it in the mirror, touching it very carefully with his hands. He closed his eyes, tears leaking from under his eyelids, giving me a big lump in my throat.

  Despite having chosen to do this, it must be a difficult sight, to have one's body so desecrated Paul's thoughts were clearly very similarly occupied, and he put the mirror away and sat next to Lukas, to comfort him for his loss.

  Lukas embraced him, still seized by emotion, openly crying now, and whispered: 'Paul thank you so much! I look quite human now, soon I will feel sun and wind on my face again. You have saved my life twice today.'

  Paul looked at me in stunned amazement and I'm sure I mirrored his expression exactly. He didn't miss his horns at all, he just wanted to fit in. He cried out of happiness! We both shrugged, then laughed. Lukas wanted to have a bite to eat too, but he was still too weak to stand up. So we fetched some dinner from the kitchen and ate it right there.

  After dinner, Paul helped Lukas up another flight of stairs to our own apartment, where he nagged us until we allowed him a hot shower.

  According to Paul, the glue would be dry by now, so there wasn't much risk involved.

  After the shower he went to our own bed, Paul had offered we could stay with him, but finding Lukas' randiness restored, I wasn't going to let that happen. Paul was holding up amazingly under the intimacy Lukas and I shared, but I was not going to have him watch us making love.

  I suppose Lukas understood that, for he went without complaint, and fell asleep immediately. I was not planning to go to sleep already, I wanted to help Paul clear up the mess and also spend some time with him, our feelings had been thoroughly shaken and I thought we needed some time together to get them settled again.

  A good cleaning usually quieted me down nicely, and when I suggested it to Paul he took to my idea immediately. Asking him to wait a few moments, I changed into an old dress that I kept especially for cleaning, much more comfortable than my work-suit. Then I took down my hair and pulled it back with a simple ribbon, feeling much more relaxed immediately. Ready to go now, I checked on Lukas one more time, and found him sleeping peacefully, his pulse and temperature fine.

  Chapter 13

  We started in the basement. Paul had plenty of hot water from his large boiler, and also all kinds of cleaning materials, for with the precise jobs he did there an immaculate workspace was a requirement. Fortunately it was still quite light outside, and even in the basement we could see very well that cleaning thoroughly was no luxury, for there was blood everywhere.

  Seeing that made me realize how bad the situation had been, and I took Paul's hand in sympathy for what he had been through. Seeing the shock on my face, he said: 'It looks really bad, doesn't it? Poor Lukas.'

  I didn't want to think about what it had looked like, Lukas in agony, his life's blood spurting out of his damaged horn. So I grabbed hold of a cleaning rag and started to scrub away at the walls and the cupboards, cleaning off all the spatters until everything was squeaky clean. Paul cleaned the anvil and the tools, the workbench, the floor.

  Forgetting our fear and shock, he was the first to speak: 'I'm afraid we're in for an interesting time when Lukas hits the streets.' I couldn't help agreeing:

  'He'll be in trouble as soon as he gets out. I hope we can teach him enough to keep him alive.' Paul asked: 'How will you cope when he starts having affairs?'

  My reply was probably not what he expected: 'I hope he will realize he'll have to keep his shoes on, and not to let them ruffle his hair too much. If they discover his hoofs or his horn stumps he'll be in incredible trouble. Or his tail.'

  At this, Paul exclaimed: 'He has a tail as well?' I suddenly realized Paul had never seen him naked, except when he showered, but that was in a dark room.

  I replied: 'A very cute, short tail. Anyone making love to him may see or feel it anytime.' Paul groaned: 'We're in even more trouble than I realized.'

  I told him: 'I'll try to stay with him the first times, and explain a lot of things about our society. Let's hope he believes me. As for him loving other people: I expect nothing else of him, I know he will. If it hurts me, that is my problem.'

  Paul dropped his cloth in the bucket, the cleaning was done, and it was getting dark now. He dried his hands on his trouser legs and laid an arm on my shoulder: 'I'll be there for you whatever happens.' Drying my own hands on my old dress, I stepped closer to him and rested my head on his shoulder, and said: 'I'm happy to hear that, for I love you, and I want to be with you.'

  We kissed, and like this afternoon, he didn't hold back as much, the intensity of the day seemed to have undermined his iron will, allowing his true feelings to come through. I felt a shiver of presentiment, was this going to be our night?

  If so, it was not yet to be. We emptied the buckets and rinsed them out, then went upstairs to deal with the bedroom. It was weird to go there again, the place where it was supposed to happen, but didn't after all. There was not much blood here, just some tools and a few bloodied cloths.

  Paul cleaned the tools and ran downstairs to put them in their rightful place.

  We threw the worst cloths in a bin, put the salvageable ones in a bucket of cold water. Then he made us tea and we sat on his couch for a well-deserved rest.

  Holding hands was not enough anymore, not after a day like this. I suddenly found myself in Paul's arms, in an embrace stronger than I had ever felt, but strangely that was just what I needed. His voice sounded different, passionate, as he told me: 'I just can't do it anymore, Melissa, keep my distance.

  I know you never wanted me to, and now I can only think of how I want you with me.'

  The strange thing was, that I had just accepted getting only tiny bits of love from him, and the thought of getting all of it at once kind of overwhelmed me. I did not want him to supplicate, he had amazed me once again today with his competence, and I liked to see him strong and in the lead.

  At the same time I knew that his refusal to make love from the start was rooted in insecurity, even though it took superhuman control.

  I decided to stop thinking, and take what he offered, for I loved him madly still, even though I had gotten used to keeping that love bottled up, so I looked at him with the love I felt.

  After a moment of uncertainty at my
hesitation, Paul regained his air of careless competence that I loved so much, and said: 'Though you have inadvertently already seen my bedroom, my home has one more surprise in

  store for you. Will you allow me to take you to my bathroom?'

  He had done it again. I thought him vulnerable, but he was already in charge again, leading me to the back of his living-room and through a beautifully decorated door, to the real room of wonders. No boiler here, but a huge tub of exquisitely worked bronze, set in wooden decking, with bronze pipes leading to a series of taps.

  Opening them, hot steaming water streamed into the tub, as well as non-steaming water, probably cold. The tub filled quickly, and Paul produced two towels from a corner. The walls of the room were tiled in mosaic, some in geometrical patterns, some in classical scenes.

  There was even a horned man in one of the scenes, gifted with a full head of curls and a huge, erect penis. I looked at Paul in surprise, and he slowly walked towards me, looking at me almost in adoration. He became shy and tongue-tied again, really seeing me again in a dress, my voluptuous body overwhelming his confidence.

  I took the ribbon out of my hair, knowing what my hair would add to the picture. His breathing stopped for a moment, and he stood absolutely still.

  He didn't say a word, but he touched my hair in reverent silence, sending a flash of heat through me. Then he asked in a husky voice: 'May I undress you?' I nodded my consent, but didn't wait for him to start.

  I slowly and carefully unbuttoned his shirt, and when his chest was revealed I caressed his chest, and his shoulders, his neck. I could smell his scent intensifying, and my heated feeling rose. Licking a nipple, I felt him shiver in response. I kissed and smelled his neck, his stubble, his curly hair. His lust had taken over as well, and he started on my dress, which had laces in front, keeping my full breasts barely in check.

  He opened the laces, and they promptly spilled out, daring him to touch them, their unblemished white skin tempting like nothing else. He took their challenge, taking one in each hand, they overflowed even though his hands were a good size. First, he held his face between them, enveloping him in their soft heaviness, in their enticing smell. Then, he took one in his mouth, first licking the nipple, then sucking on it a tiny bit. It sent a shock through me, straight between my legs. A moan escaped my lips.

  Below the laced part, my dress was held closed with buttons, which he cleverly undid with just one hand, the other still exploring my breasts. Then, he guided the dress over my head, shyness and awkwardness totally gone. I

  was now naked, but for my underwear, stockings and my long, copper-coloured hair.

  The way he looked at my voluptuous pale flesh was almost worshipful. That unsettled me a little, so I decided it was time he was out of his pants as well.

  I got his shirt off him, then started on his trousers. They were buttoned and quickly loosened. His stomach was totally flat, and not with emaciation, but with muscle. Forging was hard work, and it showed.

  The smell of his body made me feel like I was in heaven. Stroking his muscled, slightly hairy stomach, I moved my hands down towards his crotch, taking his pants, and his underpants, with me. Soon, he was as naked as I was, and as perfect a specimen, though less fleshy.

  He started to remove my underpants, and like me, he made a show out of it, caressing every part he passed by, kissing it, tasting it. Soon, they were gone, and he was kneeling between my legs, making room by spreading them, just like Lukas. Of course this excited me incredibly, and when he finally spread my labia and applied his tongue where it mattered, I didn't know what to do with the intensity of the feelings he created. They started high, and rose quickly.

  Now the bath was nearly full, and he turned off the taps. He guided me towards the entrance of the tub, totally naked, with his penis as erect as the man on the mosaic. The water was really hot, and it took a while to get used to the temperature, but when we were both immersed, he continued his exploration of my intimate parts with his tongue.

  I floated on the surface of the hot water, with the man I loved between my legs, causing waves of pleasure to flow over me, as he held me just above the water with his strong grip. It was magical. I came with a lusty moan, after which he penetrated me, below the water, surrounded by its warmth and lifted by its strength. He thrust in me in a fluid motion, dictated by the water, relaxed and almost lazy, taking his time. I couldn't believe he hadn't done this before, it was blissful, and I moved along with him, feeling a high nearing, but very, very slowly. That was incredibly good, it just went on and on, a bit more every time. Until the climax came suddenly, shocking its way out. That brought on his climax, and we stayed connected, floating in the hot water in deep satisfaction.

  We kissed, and swam together in the space the tub offered us. We stayed in

  the water until it cooled enough to make us a little shivery, and then we climbed out and dried each other carefully with the lush towels.

  Paul was still admiring me very much, touching my curves, stroking my breasts in wonderment. I loved to see him naked too, he was so well-built, with hair in exactly the right places, and a lovely light skin that felt incredibly smooth, especially after the bath. His hands were perfect, and thinking of what they could do, the beauty they could make, the precision work as well as the heavy forging, my skin shivered as they touched it.

  Still touching and still kissing, we both remembered Lukas at more or less the same time. We had spent a lovely time together, but now we needed to check on him, he was very unwell after all. So I took a bathrobe Paul offered me, and together we went upstairs, still touching, still aware of the other.

  I opened the door in silence, and we went in quietly, tiptoeing through the house until we were standing by the bed, where our dear friend and lover was still sleeping peacefully. He looked so much like a boy with those curls springing around his cute face, one ringlet in his left eye. When I stroked it upward, the eye opened, and he smiled sleepily at me.

  'You look happy,' he said, 'that's good.' Then he spotted Paul: 'You look happy too. You finally accepted your love! He was awake now: 'Now I'm happy too. When can I go outside? Tomorrow?' I felt his pulse and his temperature, and both seemed normal.

  I asked: 'May I touch your horn?' He nodded. Sitting down I stroked his curls to the side, and carefully touched the horn at its undamaged base. He shivered with the sensation, but clearly in a good way, not in pain. I felt the inside, and it was fine so far. The flow was restored, the squares had filled up the contact point and had settled, almost like the original roof tile structure. The colour of the flow was still bright red.

  'You heal really fast,' I said. Lukas wanted to explain, I could see that, but he stopped himself. He nodded. 'Now I want to sleep again,' he said, and he promptly did. I kissed Paul goodnight, and walked him to the door. He looked at me with intense love, and told me: 'See you tomorrow.' And I replied: 'I'm counting on it.'

  Then I closed the door behind him and went to my bedroom where I shed the robe and crawled in next to Lukas, warming myself against his sleepy body.

  He wasn't sleeping at all, as I suspected, he just wanted to give us space to say goodnight with some privacy.

  He turned to face me, his face a bit concerned, and asked: 'I don't know your customs, can we still sleep together and make love now you've found each other?' I stroked his curls and face, kissed him and said: 'Yes we can my dear.

  Paul had to accept the two of us before he could make love to me. Apparently he has, though he might still get jealous. But I might too when you go outside and find other lovers.

  ' Lukas kissed me and said: 'You are a strange, fierce people.' I thought about that and replied: 'So we are, and you'd better remember that before you make love to someone's wife or daughter. We cannot help you out of all trouble you might get in to.' He thoughtfully said: 'I will be really careful. For now I'm very happy to be with you, if I can have a run or a swim outside, and explore the city together, and see your work place and go with Pa
ul to install boilers.'

  That sounded encouraging, and I really wanted to believe everything would be all right.

  Then I couldn't help touching the base of his poor horns again, which he enjoyed quietly and silently for a few minutes, after which he politely asked if he might make love to me. Which he might, and this time I took care again that he didn't overstress his head and his damaged horns, but I also managed to thoroughly enjoy his energetic efforts.

  Spent, we fell asleep immediately after, and I dreamed of taking Lukas to work, of visiting the parks and the lakes with him, and of browsing the market where I had found the piece of art that had delivered him to me.

  Chapter 14

  The next morning, I was the first to awake, and I quickly checked if Lukas was all right. He was still sleeping, reminding me of an innocent boy in his totally relaxed state and without the horns. I watched him sleep for a while, saw him breathe quietly and deeply, twitching a little in his sleep. Feeling drawn to touch him, I first restrained myself, not wanting to disturb his sleep, but then I remembered his habit of waking me up with a surprise and I decided to turn the tables on him for once.

  Slowly and very carefully I moved to straddle him, not putting any weight on him yet, and when I had managed this, I again very carefully parted his curls to find the stumps of his horns, then very softly caressed their base, where they were attached to his head. This was certain to turn him on, though it might wake him up as well.

  But I had been subtle enough, for he stirred a little and made some approving sounds, eyes still closed and face still slack in sleep. I could clearly feel his excitement against the inside of my legs, and using one hand to keep caressing both stumps on the sides nearest to each other, I used the free hand to guide myself on his impressive erection.

  Now I did sit down on him, but not with my full weight, and I gently rode him, hands on his horn bases again. It was fun to watch him waking up slowly, first witnessing an expression of bliss appearing on his sleeping face, then consciousness coming over it, until he woke up completely with a very big grin and embraced me passionately.