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A Priestess, an ancient ceremony, and a chosen boy.

She might have already left by the time he got there and all his plans would go to waste. With everything he knew about her this was his first and maybe only chance to get what he wanted.

Out of breath, his hair disheveled, mud spattered up the back of his new cream trousers from running across the park he turned sharply into front door of the office block, trying his best to look professional as he saw her sitting there in his waiting room.

She looked stunning, he knew how he looked to her, weak, out of place and easily defeated; but he wouldn't give in that easily.

"Ms. Renaldi." He said as he drew level with her, extending his hand in greeting.

"Mr. Thompson." She stood slowly but dismissed his offered hand, smiling politely as she took in his appearance. His suit would look stunning on the right person, and without the mud, she mused, but forgetting the clothes he still didn't look the part. Thick, slightly curly, dark brown hair framed his face, chocolate brown eyes that seemed to sparkle almost with mischief. Standing at about 5"11 he stood several inches above her, even in her heels, but he lacked that sharp, self-assured aura that she would have expected in any of her competitors.

"Please, come on through to the office. Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?" He fussed, guiding her towards his office, trying to regain his composure.

"Coffee would be lovely."

"Perfect." He paused, looking frantically around the office at the piles of disorganized papers scattered everywhere, before clearing her a space on the large sofa in front of the television he had set up that morning. "Why don't you take a seat here and watch our latest promotional video and I'll sort out some coffee for you? Milk and sugar?"

"No. Black with no sugar please."

"Perfect." Digging around under a pile of papers he found the remote for the television set and set the video playing. Grinning to himself as he quietly left the room, checking his watch as he did so.


He knew he had some time before going back into the room, time to read through the file he had compiled on her one last time. As if she was the only one who could be prepared, so far she had done everything he had expected.


Fifteen minutes later he reentered the room a mug of coffee in his hand, just incase the plan hadn't gone accordingly. But the sight that greeted him was just as he had imagined, just as he had hoped, just as perfect.

The files he had gathered over the last month had been enough to convince him to try this scheme, to put the video to the test, to see if this high powered executive was as open to suggestion as he thought she was. The information he had acquired told a sordid story of sex and drug fueled teenage years, two years working in a strip club to earn enough to get herself to college and a seemingly endless string of relationship, both male and female partners.

And now here she was, waiting for him on the sofa, her eyes slightly glazed, her jacket in a crumpled heap on the floor, her shirt wide open and her skirt tucked up around her waist, legs spread wide exposing herself to him.

"Reina?" He asked softly, putting the coffee down on the desk as he circled around the back of the sofa.

She didn't respond, she displayed no outward signs of even hearing him enter the room, or speak her name. Perfect. He stood in front of her and gently cupped her chin, raising her head up so she would be looking at him.

"Look at me, slut." He spat, glaring down at her as her eyes lost that glazed look and focused on him, but he knew she wasn't in control of her actions, she wouldn't remember this until he chose to let her. "Enjoy this feeling, this perfect relaxation, remember it, enjoy the freedom, remember it. You will return to this state every time you hear me say the words 'You are mine' and you will know that only I can give you what you need.

"Now, when you wake you will still be under my control, you will do exactly as I tell you without hesitation, without question, and although you may resist in your mind, your b

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