February Entry: Blood Line

[rce]

Martin Johnson had never seen the slim, blonde woman before, but recognised her as soon as she walked into his office. Her long, red dress, metal chain belt and fur cape did not fit in a modern law office, they had fitted better in his fantasy novel. That was also where he recognised her from, fantasy novels of his own hand.

She closed the door behind her. Standing in front of his desk, he held out his hand to greet her, as he would greet a client. She, however, fell down on her knees before him. "You know me, My Lord", she said, bowing her head.

"Stand up, Coira", he said. "What are you doing here?"

She stood and looked at him. Her face was not that of a teenager anymore. She had aged just as he had, but was still a stunning beauty.

"My Lord, Creator, I have come to you to save my world, your creation."

"This cannot be real, Coira." He shook his head to wake up, but did not.

"It is real, My Lord!"

"You are just the product of my imagination", Martin protested.

"I would not say 'just', My Lord."

As a teenager, Martin spent most of his spare time writing his own fantasy stories, creating a world as he did so. He drew pictures and maps of that world and called it Faria. Once, he sent a script to some publishers, but it was refused. He knew it was the sort of sword and sorcery story that publishers complained they got loads of.

"Please, Coira, do not call me 'My Lord'. You may call me Martin."

"I don't think that would be proper."

It was at least ten years since Martin wrote any word about Faria. Since then, law school and his job as an attorney had taken most of his time. Coira used to be his main heroine. She had the same sense of what was proper as he had always imagined.

"How did you get here?" he asked.

"In the world you created, magic make most things possible. As your High Priestess, I made it happen with the powers vested in me by you."

"How can you save your world by coming here?"

"In your Book of Rules, My Lord, you wrote that Faria would live as long as your blood line would live. Your first born son would inherit your status as Creator. You will be thirtyfive years old this year, but you are still not married, engaged or dating. You also wrote in the Book of Rules that a priestess may present an unmarried Lord with a virgin bride, whenever necessary to preserve his bloodline and realm. That is what I have come to do."

He could recall this rule, it certainly was an idea he had had in his teenage years. Naturally, he never expected this to happen to himself. "Have you brought a virgin bride to me from Faria?" he asked in disbelief.

"No, my powers do not stretch so far that I can make a woman from Faria become fertile flesh and blood in your world. When a young woman started to read your books and like them, though, I considered her a good choice. She'll marry you."

"Who have read my books on Faria?"

"Your young neighbour, Miss Patricia Davis."

This was not unthinkable. Tricia Davis had a key to his flat. She had gotten it to be able to check his mail and plants as he was away on a long business trip last month. He had allowed her to keep the key, when she told him she had used his living room to study in peace and quiet in the afternoons. He did keep some of his Faria stories in the bookshelf in his living room.

"Tricia is only nineteen. How could she agree to this?"

"You have to ask her yourself, My Lord. She is ready for you in your home."

Martin had no urgent things to do at the office. He decided to follow Coira's advice, crazy as it seemed. Coira bade him farewell. "We will see each other eventually", she said and wandered away.

He drove straight home, fast, but without breaking speed limits. What had really happened in his office? Was it real, or was he just imagining things? It had seemed perfectly real. Maybe he was having hallucinations, for some reason he could not think of. Nevertheless, he was bound to go home sometime.

Tricia was indeed expecting him at his home, in the bedroom. She lay bound, naked and spreadeagled, on his bed. She was beautiful, short and blonde with a bald pussy.

"Who tied you up?" Martin asked.

"Your friend Coira did."

"Does this make any sense to you, Tricia? She is just a product of my imagination."

"What she says make perfect sense, Martin. Her world will cease to exist if you do not get any heirs who will keep imagining things for it." She smiled. "If you want to, however, just imagine that I would want you anyway, for whatever reason. You look good, you are intelligent and good hearted, and you are rich. There is a slight age difference, but I don't mind and I want someone like you."

"Do you want to marry me?" he asked, matter of factly.

"Yes", she said.

Well, he would lie if he would say he was not attracted to Tricia.

"Do you want me to untie you?" he asked.

"I know what you want, I read in one of your stories you want it bald and the girl chained."

He had written such a story, but never intended it to be read by anyone. Now he was glad she had read it.

"I want to be chained, that is another reason for me to want you."

"Now shut up, Tricia", he said, and started to remove his clothes. He finally gave up trying to realize what was really happening and went with what actually seemed to happen.