Confessions of a libra

Credit: Here

17.05.25

“Follow me,” my was tone cool and collected.

I moved through the house keenly aware of his roving gaze. His loud footsteps a far cry from the stealth from before. I led us to the back, to my sunroom. There was a table there sturdy enough to hold a grown man. We entered and I made a sharp pivot to face him.

“Welcome to my humble abode. Now that I’ve claimed you and all, it’s time for a ritual. Take off your shirt and lie on that table,” I pointed to the large wooden dining table.

He looked at me too long, and he was lucky I didn’t hex him right there. His top came off in one fell swoop. Heat pooled in my belly and my body suddenly came alive. Recognition, the knowing spread through my chest and outward. I opened a drawer behind me and pulled out a ceremonial knife. A cheeky thought came to me and I turned back to him.

“You. Stay.” I instructed as one might to a pet.

He gave me a fake smile and thumbs up, that was good enough for me. I ran to my office to retrieve my robe. It was a gorgeous deep royal purple and always made ceremonial work much more interesting for me. I returned to him, encased by purple velvet with my black dress peaking beneath.

“Are you ready,” I asked theatrically.

“I’m not sure I have any options,” he said gently.

It just came to me, “What do they call you?”

“Dax,” he offered.

I said it under my breath a few times to calibrate. That’s not a name I would accidentally get wrong in bed, so we should be safe. I grabbed some salt from a bowl near me. While chanting I walked around the table to create a salt circle. Once done I positioned myself adjacent to his waist. I chanted over him, first with hands hovering just above his torso. Then I grabbed some oil and drew a sigil on his lower belly. I ignored the flash of erotic images that flashed in front of my eyes. One thing at a time.

“Dax, I’m gonna give you an out. You leave here. You say you couldn’t find me, and let justice catch up to you in its own time.” I looked him in the eye and I am sure a part of me was pleading for him to think this through. “Some things cannot be reversed.”

The knife hovered above his right pectoral, ready for ceremony. Dax looked at me with the burdens of a hundred souls I would never meet. Something in his gaze made my stomach turn and have a burst of excitement at the same time. He pushed himself up and leaned into the blade.

“I don’t know who you are. I don’t know why I’ve met you. All I know is, I’ve never been more sure that this is the next step my life should take. I’m ready to follow you.”

Warmth exploded within like a starburst. I admired his bravery. It had been a long time since I had seen a man happy to die by my hand, and be reborn. I started lightly tracing the tip of the knife from the pec to his belly. I wanted him primed, I wanted his emotions raw. His fear, his joy, his lust or his anger. I wanted his undoing. I left little welts of blood and continued in columns down his body. It was slow. It was torturous and his moans were the most delicious.

The best part was I didn’t even need to do this. A simple prick of his finger would have had the same effect. No, this was instinctual. It felt like the most natural way to claim him, mine.