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She saw him as he stood at the kerb leaning on his long stick. Drivers preferred not to see the old bearded man and simply whizzed by. Such arrogant thoughtless selfishness aroused the latent devil in her. "Come Granfer," she said, "I'll show you how to do it."
She looped her arm behind his elbow and stepped off.
"My dear, " he remonstrated: "I don't really... "
"Oh, don't worry about them," she said as she dragged him out amongst the flying steel: "They're much too worried about their no-claims bonuses to risk hitting us. There. See. Nothing to it as long as you keep your nerve."
"But really, that was very dangerous. That second car only avoided collision by swerving out into the oncoming traffic and the third one bumped into the first. I must say... "
"Nothing to say, Granfer. We're here aren't we? But for me you'd still be standing over there ?"
"That's just what I wanted to say... Over there is where I wanted to be."
She looked a moment and then burst into long and loud mirth. "Ohhh. Oh... boo boo. I put my little tootsie in it again, didn't I? Shall I conduct you back?"
"I think," he said gravely, " it might be better if I settled for this side of the road. Next time you might be more successful."
"Succes... ? Oh ... I likes you, Granfer. Let me make some amends by buying you a cuppa ?"
"That's very civil of you. Perhaps it might steady my poor old nerves a trifle," and he held out a hand that trembled so violently he could have painted a wall with it.
"A joker," she said. "Come, I know just the place to get a joker cuppa." She linked arms again and dragged him off.
"Well, I must tell you how much I appreciate this, my dear. 'Tis indeed a very good 'cuppa' ".
"The only place to get a decent drink," she said. "Most of them make it with the washing-up water."
"But what is it that makes you so cynical? You don't seem to like the world in which you live?"
"Oh, no. The World is a lovely place. It's most of the people who live in it that stink."
"Then what's your contribution to it?"
"Me? Huh! Nothing. Zero. Zilch. No first-class honours degree - no job. No piece of paper - no intelligence. Given that little piece of paper that says you've put in hours of study on the defecation habits of bat-eared water squirrels and you're obviously the person to run Whitehall or one of its sub-sets."
"I see. So in reality your cynical outlook on life is all about not having a job?"
She drew a long sighing breath. "Yeah. That must be part of it, I suppose. When I see these idiots with cropped ears and freeze-dried brains making cockups all around and getting praised and honoured for it..."
"If I offered you a job ... would you take it?"
"Try me. But... er... what sort of job?"
"It's kind of hard to explain." He raised a hand: "No, it's nothing naughty and I'm much too old for sex. The question is... Do you truly want a job?"
"Yes. But how can you offer me a job that's worth undertaking when you know nothing about me?"
"I've learned a deal about you in the last ten minutes."
"All right... Then what do you do?"
"Oh, that's easy to say... not at all so easy to explain so that it's understandable."
"I'm a Sorcerer."
"I make things happen."
"What... ? Like fiddling things on the Stock Exchange?"
"Oh, that's not at all difficult. Indeed that is how I obtain the things one needs in life. But that is far from being the proper use for magic. It's much better to use it for good... as when I saved your life crossing that road."
"You saved... ? Now I know you're kidding. Oh well... it's been nice meeting you Granfer but there are better things than talking daft with nice old men. See you around."
As she started to rise he said, "Young lady, you are distressingly disrespectful especially when 'Granfer' is a word that grates on my ears. If I must... then you shall receive a lesson. Follow me."
He rose with surprising ease and turned to the door; to any onlooker she simply followed him. He made his way through the busy thoroughfare for about a hundred yards and then turned into a narrow alley; a door opened in what had been a blank wall and he beckoned her to enter.
She stood, silent and still, in a small and comfortable but truly old-fashioned room. He regarded her for a minute or perhaps two and then said, gently, "You may talk ... if you so wish."
"I can't move a muscle," she said with a slight tremor in her voice. "Did you put something in my tea?"
"Did you not walk here on your own feet?"
"Then it's just a cheap stage hypnotist's trick. I should be able to break out of it."
She closed her eyes; when she opened them again they had a look of defiance but, nevertheless, there was in them something of fear. "Be still, child. You're not in any danger. Do you still doubt my powers?"
"How can I possibly believe you work magic?"
"I'll grant that's not an unreasonable attitude. Now you can move again... but I'll demonstrate another way of immobilising you. Sit you there."
He rapped on the table and, looking down, she saw two rings of rope about eight inches in diameter. "As your stage magician would say - please examine them."
"How were they made? There's no sign of a splice - just continuous rope."
"You are quite knowledgeable, I see," he said with a ring of approval. "Now, place one loop through the other so that it forms a rather loose sort of bow."
She drew one piece of endless rope through the other and looked up at him. "You are holding a representation of handcuffs," he said. "Now please place a hand through each of those loops."
She hesitated at first but, realising that they were only loops, she did as requested and held out her hands toward him. "Now... blink."
With a blind obedience she closed her eyes, held it for about a half-second and opened again. The main loop had shrunk to pull her wrists together; the other had shrunk between them to form a cinch. She wasn't tied tightly; there wasn't any discomfort but there was little if any doubt in her mind that she was tied up!. And just how do you untie a rope that isn't tied? A crawling sensation began in her stomach and moved downward but again he rapped on the table, gathered up the two rope loops that appeared and tossed them under on to the floor. Immediately she felt her ankles secured in the same manner.
Instinctively and with disbelief she swung round in her chair to look at her feet. When she looked back, he was holding a copy of Bondage Life. "Yes, you read this, don't you?"
"How could you know that?"
"By the instant recognition that flooded your mind. But don't be ashamed of it... I like a bit of fun too. I'm proposing to create this picture here although I never bother with gags... nasty unhygienic things. But then of course you already know that?"
Before she had time to look at the picture, he clapped his hands. Suddenly, she was bathed in what, to her, seemed a dazzling flash of light and she found herself face-down on the floor. Her legs were bound with his rope-loops at the ankles, above and below the knees, around the thighs; her arms were now bound behind at wrists and elbows and strapped tightly to her body; everywhere possible, his little cinch-loops were in place. Around her neck there was a rope-woven collar which extended upward into a head enveloping network which even filled her mouth. She was also hogtied - not painfully but very effectively. "I like to think that my bondage is inescapable," he said somewhat smugly. "You see - no knots. How can anyone untie themselves - or anyone else for that matter - when there aren't knots on which to work?"
"Sometimes," he continued dreamily, "I fancy myself as the master of a chained slave, always devastatingly beautiful of course... something like this." Again he clapped his hands and her bonds disappeared; as she climbed breathlessly to her feet she discovered iron rings - seamless iron rings - around each wrist and ankle, around her waist and around her neck and all inter-connected with a web of chains. Conscious of a difficulty in speaking, she raised her hands to find an iron brank that rose from the collar to encircle her head.
"No, no, no, no. That won't do. Iron is such a common metal and so often ugly in its creations. My apologies, my dear." He made a wringing motion with his hands and she saw the iron rings rapidly transmute into golden fetters; intricate designs began to appear on their surfaces and jewels blazed out as they caught the light.
"Beautiful. Beautiful. But I see that nudity is beginning to embarass you. Ah, well. It was fun while it lasted." Another clap of his hands and she was enclosed - rather than covered - by a lace-work bra and matching panties finished off with a floor length skirt in black-over-pink chiffon. The brank disappeared but there was now an insistent tinkling sound. Her wrist and ankle cuffs carried small bells, similar bells were hanging at intervals along each chain, a bell hung from each ear and another from the septum of her nose while yet two more hung from her bra where the nipples might otherwise have been seen... the slightest movement, even her breathing, caused her to sound off like a musical waterfall.
"You really ARE a dirty old man," she chided him. "But at least you haven't yet molested me. Is this the job you offerred - to be your Barbie Doll... ? A toy?"
"Oh, no. Not at all. Never pass up a chance for a little fun... there's precious little of it around usually. I admit to embarrassing you but I needed to see your reaction. I do congratulate you on keeping a sense of balance, on keeping your temper, on maintaining a sense of humour despite the liberties I took. May I take it that the experience is not entirely unpleasant?"
"To be honest, I am enjoying it up to a point although it would be more enjoyable still if I knew for sure that there isn't an element of danger."
"And are you certain now that it is not present?"
"I can't do much about it even if it is. And you haven't given me a safeword?"
"Then give me your permission to keep you in that... er... most enjoyable state - not for ever of course but for shall we say ..."
She looked at her enquiringly. "How about until I get hungry?"
"Excellent. When would you estimate that to be?" Then mischievously; "Nautical types would denote the time in a number of struck bells."
"Oh, around about now."
"But surely, having rings on your fingers and bells on your toes, does not exclude eating?"
"Not at all. But was it not you who asked me?"
"Touche." He stamped on the floor with his left foot and immediately her exotic garb and jewellery disappeared to be replaced by her own clothes.
"It comes hard," she said, "but I have to admit that you exercise a certain magic. As one bondage idiot to another... will I ever see my gold manacles and bells again?"
"Any time you wish... as long as you do not forbid me to ogle."
"Well... I suppose everything carries its price. What exactly was this job you mentioned?"
"It's the duty of every Sorcerer to pass on his skills and learning. I need an acolyte, a student, a trainee, an apprentice... call it what you wish. Would you like to learn how to prepare dinner without bothering to rise from your chair?"
"That sounds like a very good way to pass the time. At what price comes such a dinner?"
"Well it does take a little effort... erm... perhaps my acolyte would care to serve while it is still hot?"