Enshrined

What sort of curveball had the universe thrown her, by making her a slave to this random guy? Who was this man who was now her master? What sort of man was he? What made him tick?

Simon could see her mulling over all these questions in her head, dispassionately trying to develop some understanding of the situation she now found herself in, and especially of Simon himself.

Staring in to her eyes, he was once again amazed by her exceptional beauty. Not just her pretty face, but also the charming presence she exuded.

He recalled the fire in her eyes, when she had barged into his apartment, that morning after they’d first had sex. He remembered her enchanting grace and keen intelligence as she sat with a cup of his murky coffee and educated him on her divine heritage. And he happily reflected upon the bestial passion that had smoldered in her eyes, numerous times over the past few days, while they were making love.

Strong, elegant, clever, sensual, passionate; this babe was the whole package! And she was all his.

Yet, there was still so much he didn’t know about her.

“Tell me something about yourself,” he gently broke the silence, speaking at little more than a whisper. He continued idly caressing her hip while they talked, a gesture he had been performing since she first rolled over.

“Mmm… Like what?” Chaarvi responded.

“I don’t know…” Simon lazily shrugged. “What’s your favorite color?” It was the first thing that came into his head.

“Fuchsia,” she answered with a soft smile. “It’s a sort of pinkish-purple,” she explained. The question seemed to amuse her; or perhaps she was simply pleased that they were engaging in pillow-talk for the first time.

Simon nodded his head and smiled. He liked that answer. Most people would’ve responded with one of the common basic colors: Green, Red, Yellow… etc. But then, Chaarvi wasn’t ‘most people’. He was hardly surprised that she gave an uncommon answer.

Unfortunately, it was a dead-end question, and he couldn’t think of a natural follow up.

“Where are you from?” he asked, unfazed, in a second attempt to get a proper conversation rolling.

“Well, I was born in San Francisco, but I grew up in Washington,” Chaarvi responded in a deadpan tone.

“D.C.?” Simon queried.

Chaarvi softly shook her head, “State.”

Simon’s eyebrows rose in surprise as he nodded his head.

“That’s a long way. You get home much?” he asked.

Chaarvi sighed in frustration and broke eye contact.

“I might have grown up there, but it isn’t ‘home’,” she told him, with a sense of sorrow.

“Oh?” Simon replied. There was clearly a story behind that answer, and his curiosity was piqued.

“My mom and I…” Chaarvi solemnly continued, without any prompting, “…we don’t get along.

“Things have never been that great between us. So when I graduated high school, I set my sights on the furthest colleges away that I could find, so I could just get the hell out of there. The further, the better, you know?

“I haven’t looked back.”

Simon pulled his hand away from her hip, to gently brush a length of her hair back behind her ear. It wasn’t about to fall in to her face, but he wanted to do something to help comfort her. He hadn’t given much thought to Chaarvi’s background until now. He was surprised to discover it was so unhappy.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “What about the rest of your family?”

Chaarvi shook her head, “It was just the two of us.

“Back in India, she’d been arranged to marry this guy from a really wealthy family, ” she continued, after taking a deep breath to steel herself.

“Enter my father, who, thanks to being half-Apsara, is this bewitchingly handsome guy, who my mother just can’t say ‘no’ to. They have this whirlwind affair – or one night stand, I don’t know… Bada-bing, bada-boom, she gets pregnant.

“It’s a huge scandal. The groom and his family are outraged. The wedding is off. It’s brought major dishonor upon my mom’s family, so they totally disown her.

“She makes her way to America, all alone; has me; and after a few years we settle down in this small town in Washington.”

Simon suddenly realized that the most likely reason Chaarvi was spilling her personal history so openly was because he wanted her to. The power he held over her meant that if he wanted to learn Chaarvi’s intimate secrets, she had no choice but to divulge them to him; she couldn’t maintain a boundary of privacy.

It felt as if he had picked up a benign-looking book and realized all too late that he was reading somebody else’s diary. Yet, even though it felt immoral, he couldn’t help reading on, because he was too intrigued to stop.

“So now she’s stuck in this tiny little two-bedroom house,” Chaarvi continued, “working a series of menial nine-to-five jobs to make ends meet; no friends, no family, no luxuries… You know, a pretty crap life.

“So, guess whose fault that is?”

It took a second for the penny to drop, but when it did, Simon’s eyes widened in horror.

“No…” was as much of a response as he could manage.

“Yup!” Chaarvi softly nodded. “If I hadn’t been conceived, she could’ve had this dream life, living in a Bangalore mansion, as the trophy wife of some high-flying executive. But instead…

“I ruined her whole life. And oh, doesn’t she just love making sure that I know it!” Chaarvi huffed bitterly.

Simon cupped his hand tenderly against the side of Chaarvi’s face. His heart was breaking. He was struck with the mental image of a little girl, with the same sensitive brown eyes he was staring in to at that very moment, paralyzed with distress as some scowling, spiteful woman – her own mother, no less – loomed over her, berating her as the reason for all of the woman’s unhappiness.

Chaarvi was the loveliest person Simon had ever met. How could her own mother have treated her so cruelly? Simon scarcely knew what to say.

“God… I’m so sorry,” was the best he could do.

“Hey, water under the bridge, right?” Chaarvi responded with a forced smile.

“I didn’t mean to go opening wounds,” he apologized.

“I know,” she warmly assured him. “It had to come out sooner or later.”

Simon couldn’t help but notice the unsettling parallels between Chaarvi’s mother’s story, and their own present situation. Chaarvi’s mother had been unable to resist Chaarvi’s father’s advances, due to some supernatural hold he had over her. And here Simon was, lying naked in bed beside a girl who was likewise completely under his power.

That situation had ruined Chaarvi’s mother’s life. What sort of long-term consequences was he going to have on Chaarvi’s life, by leading her astray for his own pleasure?

Then again, he had already tried abstinence; already tried staying out of her life and leaving her to her own devices. That approach seemed to do more harm than good. So, what was the answer? It felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place, trying to do the right thing.

“Are… are you okay, master?” Chaarvi inquired with noticeable concern. Simon must’ve zoned out, mulling over his ethical dilemma for longer than he realized.

“Hmm? Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, feigning a smile which failed to convince her.

“Bit of a mood killer, huh?” she sighed with disappointment.

Simon didn’t know what to say, so he simply placed his hand upon her shoulder and rubbed it reassuringly.

“Are you okay, master?” – Those words echoed through his mind, over and over.

When Chaarvi had called him that during their first post-coital lay-in, he relished it. It was like something out of his most fantastic wet dreams, to have such a gorgeous woman fawn over him with such dedication.

But today, that word was yet another reminder that Chaarvi was only laying here beside him because she was compelled to do so, against her will.

“You know, you don’t need to call me that,” he told her gently. “You can just call me S…”

“Wait!” Chaarvi urgently cut him off before he could complete the instruction, silencing him by placing a finger across his lips. “Please don’t make me call you that,” she pleaded.

Simon was confused, especially by the level of desperation he saw in Chaarvi’s eyes.

“It’d be disrespectful for me to call you by a common name,” she explained. “You’re my shrine, remember, master? I have to treat you with reverence.”

“I really don’t mind,” Simon assured her with a shrug. After all, why should he feel disrespected by someone calling him by his given name? Everyone called him ‘Simon.’

“No,” she responded, shaking her head. She paused for a second, trying to figure out how she could best explain her objection so that he would understand.

“Imagine for a second that you’re this super devout Catholic,” she began, “you’re just some 9-to-5 nobody living in an insignificant little town. But you never miss a mass and you’re devoted to your religion.

“Now imagine you come home one day to find you’ve got a letter from the Vatican: you’ve been summoned to become the Pope’s personal full-time assistant. And so, this is like the most incredible honor you could ever get! You get to serve your god in a way that really matters!

“So you get to the Vatican, and you’re introduced to the Pope for the first time. You bow down and greet him, ‘Your Holiness…’ And then he says back to you, ‘Ey, how ya doin’? Never mind with the fancy crap! Just call me Frankie!'”, Chaarvi explained, feigning a hard Jersey accent for the Pope.

The irreverent mental imagery brought a broad grin and a chuckle to Simon, and Chaarvi couldn’t help but laugh in sympathy.

“It would take the shine off the whole experience, you know?” she continued, “It’d make it cheap… less special. And it would feel like a betrayal; like you were being asked to belittle something that’s really special to you.

“Sacred things need to be upheld as sacred things. Otherwise, we risk losing our perspective. The wonderful becomes mundane. The paths we walk lead nowhere.

“See, when you disrespect something holy, you disrespect holiness itself, and therefore all the holy elements of the universe. We all lose a little something when that happens.

“So, it’s important that I honor you as my master – because you are my master, and I’m your servant. It would be blasphemous for me to bring you down to my level.

“It’s my duty to honor you,” she asserted, with an air of pride that amazed Simon.

He had no response. He merely gazed at her, thoughtfully, while stroking her hair.

He more or less understood the concept of what Chaarvi had been telling him. But he nonetheless struggled to believe that she genuinely liked addressing him as “master” all the time. It still blew his mind that she perceived him as some sort of sacred figure to be worshiped, like a pope, or a god. He was just some middling college kid!

Listening to her explanation did nothing to soothe his anxieties about the power he held over her. If anything, it made his situation even more troubling.

It seemed that whatever was going on between himself and Chaarvi was governed by a complex set of rules, of which he understood very little. And if he inadvertently made Chaarvi break any of those rules, he might really upset her.

It also reinforced his concerns that Chaarvi was a captive in this arrangement, bound by those rules, to a life of involuntary servitude.

All the same, he couldn’t dispute the sincerity in Chaarvi’s eyes, nor her confidence as she’d explained those things to him. She certainly believed it was important to uphold him as her “master.” But what truly confounded him was that she didn’t appear to mind any of this.

“Do you like this… situation? Being under my control, I mean?” Simon asked her with noticeable skepticism.

Chaarvi pursed her lips into a cheeky smirk and shrugged.

“It’s growing on me,” she replied, playfully.

It was an answer that put him somewhat at ease, even though he still had a multitude of questions and concerns.

Chaarvi confirmed the sentiment with a kiss that melted the tension in Simon’s body like a hair dryer blowing on an ice cube.

She rolled on top of him, as the kiss segued into another, far more amorous one. He felt her crotch pressing against his member. There was no mystery about where this was leading.

Simon knew he would need time to reflect on everything Chaarvi had told him this morning. He needed to make sense of the deeper stuff, and to ultimately determine what sort of role he ought to be playing in her life.

But for the moment, it was enough for him to know that she was comfortable being sexually involved with him.

He was in bed with a drop-dead gorgeous babe, and they both had a free weekend to kill. Now didn’t feel like the time to be wrestling with philosophical dilemmas.

Chapter 7

The following Monday was quite tedious for Simon. He didn’t share any classes with Chaarvi that day. Of course, he had seen her before she left his apartment, in the early hours of the morning. But he missed her during the day, all the same.

He was looking forward to seeing her again, that evening. Chaarvi assured him that she would be able to come over, though she was unsure about the timing. She told him she had some errands to run after college.

Before she left, Simon gave her a spare set of keys for his apartment. He didn’t expect her to finish her errands before he got home, but he anticipated that she’d be spending a lot of time there from now on, and he wanted her to be able to come and go as she pleased.

Chaarvi’s face lit up with joy in response to that simple gesture. The memory of that expression gave Simon a rush of warmth several times during the day.

After a scheduled (and seemingly endless) shift at his part-time job, Simon arrived home just after sunset. He was hoping he would have time to freshen up a little before his date for the evening came calling. But much to his surprise, he didn’t come home to an empty apartment.

As he stepped inside, an unfamiliar figure glided silently over to the kitchenette. For a second, Simon thought he’d accidentally entered the wrong apartment; until he realized he recognized the woman, after all. It was Chaarvi – but unlike he had ever seen her before.

She was wearing a lemon satin chemise that just barely extended low enough to hide her crotch. Her long, black hair seemed to flow behind her with more volume than ever.

She looked like an image from the world’s raciest lingerie catalog. The color of her garment enhanced her flawless, brown complexion splendidly – especially around her bust and thighs.

She lifted one hand, and lightly tugged at one of its spaghetti-thin shoulder straps, teasing Simon with the prospect that she might slip it off completely to reveal her boob; though ultimately, she didn’t.

Simon had seen her stark naked countless times, and she had always been the sexiest woman he had ever laid eyes upon. But now that she was making such a deliberate effort to seduce him, her hotness was off the scale! After only a quick glance, Simon could feel his cock growing rapidly inside his pants.

From the moment he entered the room, she had been staring at him intently, with predatory eyes that actually intimidated him a little bit.

“Umm… Hi!” he sheepishly greeted her.

Chaarvi responded with nothing more than a parting of her lips into a snarl-like expression.

She floated over to the modest breakfast table and turned around. Then, bracing herself upon the table, she slowly bent over, revealing her scrumptious little ass and, eventually, her glistening pussy, as well. Clearly, she’d been manually keeping herself on the boil until Simon arrived.

There was nothing ambiguous about the gesture: she was ‘presenting’, like a wild animal in heat.

Simon froze in awe.

Chaarvi peered over her shoulder and glared at him with those same ferocious eyes. Her mouth hung open, as if she were letting out some inaudible mating call.

She hadn’t spoken a word since he arrived. Simon tried to imagine what she would say, if she was in a talkative mood. Judging by the expression on her face, whatever message she had for him would’ve been crude, and to-the-point. “Me horny. Need man. Fuck me, now!” – or something along those lines.

It was an invitation Simon could hardly refuse, and it would’ve been rude to keep the lovely lady waiting.

With a gleeful smirk, he sauntered leisurely over to his guest and placed two fingers upon her vulva. It was completely covered in her slick juices. His fingers slid effortlessly across her inner lips. The heat coming off of her privates could’ve fried an egg. She definitely needed to screw! Simon found that exhilarating.

From her heavy breathing, he could tell that she enjoyed him touching her down there!

He continued to slowly stroke her pussy with his left hand, while his right worked hastily to remove his pants. It was obvious that Chaarvi wanted to be penetrated, but he refused to probe her with his fingers. He didn’t want to spoil her appetite before the main course.

Once he had opened his pants, Simon pulled his briefs down just enough to comfortably expose his fully-erect cock. He took position directly behind Chaarvi and maneuvered his cockhead to take over from his fingers, smoothly caressing the length of her labia, up and down. Chaarvi felt the difference immediately and let out a sultry little moan. She couldn’t wait to feel that big, thick rod deep inside her!

By that point, Simon was more than happy to oblige. He’d been staring at that irresistible ass and pussy for a good minute or so, and his hard-on was driving him crazy. He needed this just as badly as she did!

He pushed his cock all the way inside her sex, while his fingers dug firmly into the yielding flesh of her buttocks. Then he got a secure grasp of her hips, and began thrusting, soon building up to a vigorous rhythm.

Almost immediately, he noticed Chaarvi was making some familiar sounds, like dainty little happy grunts. For some reason, she only made those noises when he was doing her from behind; like prone, spoons, or doggy-style sex. He never heard her making them during missionary or cowgirl sex, or any other activity they got up to. It was an adorable little sexual foible, which made Simon smile.

Chaarvi’s pussy felt so good, Simon just wanted to pump her as hard and heavy as he was able. Normally, he delighted in taking his time with her. But this afternoon, he didn’t feel like restraining himself. He just wanted to go off in one quick, spectacular burst.

He could tell that Chaarvi was enjoying this especially passionate session, too.

Sure enough, he soon came inside her. He held her hips tightly against his crotch, while making mad, gasping moans. His load was abundant, and his loins did not stop convulsing until well after it was all gone. It seemed like their day apart had done Simon a world of good; he hadn’t cum so much for several days now, and it made for a mind-blowing orgasm.

When it was all over, he was weak as a kitten. He barely had the energy to lift his arms. It was a miracle he was still standing. He had given Chaarvi everything he had.

Numb and giddy with exhaustion, he gazed down at sight before him: a thick, messy mane of shiny black hair; draped over luxurious yellow satin; draped over flawless, soft skin. He fondly caressed her buttocks, which were still pressed firmly against his groin. He wanted to praise Chaarvi, to tell her what an exciting and beautiful lover she was. But he couldn’t think of any words that would do her justice.

His limp cock flopped out of her opening as he staggered backwards. His hands lingered upon her ass for a second, before they too dropped to his sides.

He was about to look around for a seat, where he could sit down and recuperate for a while, when he noticed that Chaarvi was still holding that same position, with her ass stuck out suggestively.

He could tell from her body language that she was spent. She seemed to have difficulty holding her head up, and there was an unsteadiness in how she supported her weight on her arms and legs. Yet despite the fact that they were obviously finished, Chaarvi showed no sign that she was about to relax.

It was curious behavior, but Simon couldn’t deny that it made for a wonderful view, seeing her in that position. And that’s when he understood what Chaarvi was doing: she was making a point!

She was demonstrating how deeply committed she was to satisfying all his sexual desires. Despite her exhaustion from the sex she’d just had, Chaarvi was still offering herself to him. It was a message: she was completely at his disposal. Whenever he wanted, whatever he wanted, she would always oblige. Even when her body was exhausted, her dedication to serving him would never waver.

Simon reflected upon a conversation they’d had on Saturday, about him being her shrine, and what that meant to her. At the time, Simon hadn’t understood much of what Chaarvi tried to explain to him. In particular, he struggled to accept her claims that she was comfortable with her mental enslavement.

But actions speak much louder than words. Now, bearing witness to her confidence and resolve as she offered her privates to him, he finally understood.

Chaarvi took genuine pleasure and pride in being his servant; particularly in being his sexual servant. It was a solemn duty. And for her, duty wasn’t a burden; quite the opposite, in fact. She enjoyed her newfound role. Nothing was more important to her than pleasing her master. Nothing made her happier, either.

At last, Simon was beginning to understand some of the more elusive truths about what it meant to be Chaarvi’s shrine. It was okay for him to use his mind control powers to play out his sexual fantasies with her. He wasn’t taking advantage of Chaarvi; he was helping her to find some sort of spiritual fulfillment.

It may have been unusual, but it was a healthy arrangement, and Chaarvi enjoyed it. Simon had nothing to feel guilty about.

He reached out with his left hand once again and stroked the slick, pink threshold of her sex with his fingertip. Chaarvi sighed softly.

Regrettably, Simon was far too spent to go another round with her – even just using his fingers. But he wanted to share a ‘close’ moment with her, all the same.

He stepped around to her side and took her gently by the hand. Chaarvi stood upright and turned to face him, with a warm, confident smile upon her face. Her beauty floored him, every time he laid eyes upon her. With a sigh of joy, he reached up to brush a long tendril of her messy, post-coital hair away from her left eye.

“I think I get it,” he informed her with a pensive nod, indicating that he had understood the underlying message of her provocative display.

Chaarvi’s eyes sparkled with absolute devotion as she held his gaze. She wrapped her arms around his head, pursed her lips, and leaned in, seemingly to kiss him. Simon leaned in to meet her. Just as their lips made contact, she spoke:

“…And you can get it whenever you want,” she whispered sensuously, just to drive the point home, “master.”

It was the sort of remark that would make any man’s heart race, even a man still recuperating from an epic climax.

She quit teasing him and gave him the tender kiss he was waiting for.

That word, “master,” echoed awkwardly once again through Simon’s mind. It would certainly take some getting used to. It still felt strange, but it was also exciting; like he was venturing out of his comfort zone, and in to some delicious fantasy which he’d long been conditioned to conceal in shame.

As they made out, Chaarvi backed up until the edge of the table was pressed into her thighs. Simon reached down behind her and began to fondle her buttocks. Chaarvi drew him closer, until his limp cock was pressed against her moist snatch. Those two bits were practically best friends by now.

Simon always relished holding Chaarvi’s tender body in his arms. But this afternoon, it was a different sensation. This girl in his arms wasn’t just some gorgeous babe under his control. Now, he understood: she was his girl.

He was a lucky, lucky man.

Chapter 8

Concentrating in class had become much easier for Simon, since he began his sexual relationship with Chaarvi. Repressing all those desires had been driving him crazy. But now, he finally felt like he was able to properly focus on his schoolwork again.

Nonetheless, there were still moments when he found himself hopelessly captivated by the phenomenal babe on the opposite side of the lecture hall.

Little Gray Mouse. That was his private pet name for Chaarvi’s retiring alter-ego, since her fashion scheme was predominantly gray, and her persona was so mousy.

She was still the most beautiful girl on campus, as far as Simon was concerned. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that she was going to pains to make herself dreadfully unattractive.

“Why?” he pondered, as he gazed at her dreamily. “Why do you hide yourself away like that?”

Chaarvi was a strong, fiercely intelligent, charming woman. She was gorgeous inside and out. Simon couldn’t fathom why she was so determined to hide all that from the world. And she was clearly very determined.

“Those glasses are fake, aren’t they?” he speculated.

She never wore her glasses when they were alone together in his apartment, and he’d never noticed the slightest hint of any vision problems from her.

“If those glasses are fake, adjust them,” he mentally commanded her.

Sure enough, Chaarvi reached up and nonchalantly readjusted her glasses. As with many of his commands, she didn’t seem to realize the impulse came from Simon.

“I knew it!” Simon gently congratulated himself. “You only wear them to make yourself look ugly.

“Why?”

This wasn’t the first time he had mulled over the motives behind Chaarvi’s frumpy disguise. Ever since he discovered her true nature, all those weeks ago, he had often wondered why she worked so hard to make herself unattractive.

Over this past week, he’d been so preoccupied with the world-rocking sex, he hadn’t given the matter much thought. But this morning, it had been brought back to the forefront of his mind.

Just before dawn, after a lazy, early morning round of lovemaking, Simon watched as Chaarvi buttoned herself up in that outfit. She was eager to get back to her own dorm before the rest of the town woke up.

He’d already witnessed this routine three times over the past week. But this morning, Simon was struck by its uncomfortable similarities to a “walk of shame.” It completely sank the post-orgasmic buzz he’d been savoring.

Chaarvi had explained how sacred he was to her, being her shrine. So Simon was convinced that she wasn’t actually ashamed of being his lover. So how come she seemed so anxious to prevent anybody else from finding out about them? The question troubled him greatly.

Once she’d gotten dressed, she paused ominously in place, before turning her head and gazing up at him with gentle, expectant eyes that seemed to beg, “What do you want from me, master?”

Simon quickly realized that the reason she hadn’t left was because he wasn’t allowing her to leave. He didn’t like seeing his beautiful lover creeping out of his apartment in the small hours of the morning, like a criminal; hence, she was compelled to stay.

Although he was eager to understand her behavior, Simon realized that, with Chaarvi so clearly in a hurry to get home, it wasn’t the right time for them to have that conversation. He forced himself to release the mental restraint he’d unwittingly imposed upon her, and allowed her to leave freely. Chaarvi thanked him with a tender smile, before briskly disappearing out his front door.

Sitting over his breakfast table all alone that morning, Simon continued to ponder the mysterious relationship between the real Chaarvi, and the Little Gray Mouse who had just fled his apartment. Why did that gorgeous, confident woman, who had greeted him in that sexy chemise the previous evening, feel the need to hide herself away in public?

Even now, sitting in class, Simon couldn’t help but feel disappointed, gazing at Chaarvi from across the room.

Why wasn’t she sitting beside him? Aren’t boyfriends and girlfriends supposed to sit together, when they share a class? Why were they putting on this charade that they didn’t even know one another?

The random dude sitting beside him was such a poor substitute for the warm company of the girl of his dreams.

But even though he missed being close to her, Simon was able to control his thoughts well enough that he didn’t accidentally summon Chaarvi over to his side. He contented himself that he would get to spend plenty of time with her again that evening.

In fact, Simon had hardly given any accidental commands to Chaarvi since they established their sexual relationship a week ago.

There was a newfound serenity in his feelings towards Chaarvi now, and a capacity for patience. Waiting a few hours to be with her was far easier to cope with than the belief that he could never be with her, ever.

* * * * *

Simon let out a deep, contented sigh.

Chaarvi was draped lazily over his right-hand side, padding soft kisses upon his cheek, jaw and shoulder. Her womanhood was well filled with yet another fresh load of his seed.

With his left hand, he began to gently caress the hair flowing back from around her temple. In moments like this, Simon could scarcely believe that this was his life; it was more like he’d died and gone to heaven.

“You’re so beautiful,” he gently mused.

He’d said those exact same words to her dozens of times over the past week, mostly while kissing her naked body all over, in a frenzy of lust; or while thrusting inside her, on the verge of orgasm. But it deserved repeating, outside of all that hormonal anarchy, so that Chaarvi would know he really meant it, and so that Simon could remind himself how fortunate he was.

Chaarvi grinned broadly, closed her eyes, and bashfully turned away, hiding her face against his shoulder for a moment.

She was beautiful! So beautiful… And as Simon reflected upon that, he was reminded of the many questions that had plagued his mind that morning, about why she insisted on hiding her beauty from the rest of the world.

“Can I ask you a question?” he said, with an air of seriousness.

Chaarvi smiled cheerfully and shrugged.

Simon paused for a long moment, as he tried to figure out the most diplomatic way of asking Chaarvi why she always wore such butt-ugly clothes.

“Why do you dress… so… conservatively?” he managed to ask.

Chaarvi chuckled briefly. “You mean, ‘Why do I wear such butt-ugly clothes?'” she replied in good humor.

“Whoa! ‘Butt-ugly clothes?'” Simon thought, amazed by her choice of words, “That’s exactly what I was thinking! Great minds… Oh, right! The mental link!” he suddenly realized. Because of his power, Chaarvi was compelled to answer the question he really wanted to ask her; not the question he actually asked.

Chaarvi sighed deeply and rested her head upon his shoulder. She wasn’t upset, but the question had definitely sobered them out of their post-coital haze.

“You remember, that first morning, I told you how the Kundalini I get from you stabilizes my soul, and prevents me from inflicting mental trauma on other people?” she reminded him.

“Hmm. Vaguely,” Simon acknowledged.

She’d given him a lot to digest that first morning. Being told that she was a Hindu demi-goddess, and that he had complete mental control over her were the two key points that had stuck. He didn’t remember much else.

“Yeah, well, that’s really only half the story,” Chaarvi continued.

“See, I have a partially-divine soul, but wrapped in a regular mortal body, and walking around the mortal world. This environment was never meant to handle such intense energy. When I’m out in the world, I’m like a tornado barreling down Main Street.

“Most people’s souls can’t withstand it. They go mad – lose all awareness of who they are, or where they are. They can lose all train of rational thought. Suffer intense, uncontrollable emotions. Any of the above, or even all of the above.

“It’s possible my energy could even tear a soul right out of its body; kill someone…” she lamented.

“The Kundalini is a stabilizing force. It smooths the turbulence out of my energy and makes it much less destructive; which means I won’t inadvertently harm the people around me… Unless… they start paying attention to me.

“See, I’m harmless enough when I’m just floating around in the background. But when you start to notice me… when you wonder about me… when you interact with me… you’re allowing me to affect you. You’re opening your own soul to the energy of mine. It’s sort of like the difference between seeing the world in daylight, and staring directly into the sun. One’s okay; the other will do you real damage.

“So, I can’t afford to have people notice me. I have to be that unattractive, boring loser that everybody just wants to ignore.

“That’s why I wear such butt-ugly clothes, master. That’s why I avoid everybody and keep to myself. I can’t afford to be interesting. People would get hurt.

Simon laid beneath her in silence, contemplating what she’d just told him with extreme skepticism. Of course, he knew Chaarvi would never knowingly lie to him. But he simply couldn’t accept that she was the public menace she had just described herself as. She was lovely!

“But… that doesn’t make any sense,” he protested. “I’ve been paying attention to you for weeks. We’ve spent every night together for the last seven days… and I’m fine! I feel amazing, as a matter of fact.”

“Well yeah, sure, you’re my shrine,” Chaarvi quickly countered. “I could never harm you. You’re protected by the Kundalini channel that runs through you.

“Structurally reinforced to withstand extreme spiritual events,” she added with a facetious smirk.

“Oh? I didn’t know Bechtel had branched out into religion?” Simon responded, deadpan.

“Oh yeah!” Chaarvi replied, “Anywhere there’s a profit to be had.”

They both chuckled softly, as Simon absently caressed Chaarvi’s upper back. He was more convinced than ever: she couldn’t possibly be as harmful as she had made herself out to be. Any woman with such a bubbly sense of humor had to be a gift to the people who knew her, not a curse. So why did Chaarvi believe such horrible things about herself?

“I’m not making this up,” she asserted in a gentle, yet serious tone. It was almost as if she could feel Simon’s skepticism and felt compelled to justify her claims. She lifted her head, to make eye contact with him. Simon could see how serious she was.

“You remember how Henderson held me back after class last Tuesday?” Chaarvi asked with some hesitation.

Simon nodded.

“And did you notice we had a substitute for the rest of the week?” she prompted.

“Hmm. I guess,” Simon answered with a shrug. “To be honest, I was sort of zoned out for those last couple days. I had other things on my mind,” he told her warmly, while caressing the side of her face.

Chaarvi tried to maintain her serious expression, but Simon managed to draw a coy smirk from her lips with his flirting.

“Then I guess you didn’t pick up any of the gossip around campus about what happened on Tuesday afternoon?” she asked.

“No,” Simon shook his head curiously.

“Well, apparently, at the end of the day, Henderson walks over to his car,” Chaarvi began, “tries to unlock the door. He struggles with the key for a couple seconds – no big deal, you know? And then all of a sudden he just starts beating the living shit out of the car!”

Simon’s eyebrows peaked in amazement. He wondered for a second if he’d misheard her.

“He’s punching the doors and the frame, kicking them, smashing them with his briefcase,” Chaarvi continued, “He shatters one of the rear windows and sets off the alarm. Cracks the rear windscreen. Puts more dents in the body than anyone can count. All the while, yelling like a psycho.

“Campus security show up, and he’s so out of control, they’re afraid to approach him. So they just stand back until he looks like he’s starting to calm down.

“By the time they finally manage to get him under control, he’s red as a tomato, he’s sweating, his hair looks like Doc Brown’s. His glasses are gone: they fell off his face while he was beating up his car; he’s trampled on them without even noticing…

“A couple of juniors who saw him less than a minute before it all started reckon he was fine. He smiled at them and said, ‘Good Afternoon.’ But then, all of a sudden, he snaps! Just because he has a little trouble opening his door.”

Simon listened intently, staring at his ceiling in wide-eyed silence. It was a disturbing story. He liked Professor Henderson. But he liked Chaarvi a whole lot more. It was deeply unsettling to think that she might have played some unwilling role in Henderson’s outburst.

“Anyway, the dean came out to see what the hell was going on. Henderson, apparently, looked as confused as everybody else. Even he has no idea why he’s just beaten the shit out of his own car.

“The dean put him on sick leave for the rest of the week and told him to go home and get some rest,” Chaarvi concluded with a shrug.

“No shit,” Simon muttered tensely.

“Oh wait, it gets worse!” Chaarvi told him. “He goes home. Then later that night, his neighbors hear screams coming from his house. They call 911. The cops show up, hear the screams, and break the door down!”

Simon lifted his head and gazed down at Chaarvi in astonishment.

“Well, it turned out it was Henderson’s wife screaming, but… they weren’t unhappy screams,” she said with a smirk.

“Are you fucking serious?” Simon asked.

“Yep,” Chaarvi nodded. The mirthful grin spreading across her face instantly lifted Simon’s spirits.

“Gianni Stronzo’s cousin’s a cop. He reckons it’s the best call-out story anyone in the station can remember.”

Simon never hung out with Gianni Stronzo. But he knew him by reputation. He was the last guy on campus you’d want to know about your personal business. If Gianni knew something on Tuesday, the entire college would know about it by Wednesday.

“Apparently, it took her a full thirty seconds to realize there were a couple of speechless cops standing in her bedroom doorway, watching them ‘get busy’. And even then, she couldn’t get him to stop until he’d completely finished…”

Simon and Chaarvi both laughed their way through the uncomfortable mental imagery of the story.

“Holy fuck,” Simon whimpered, lost for any other words.

Chaarvi sighed. “But see, master, that’s what I do to people. I unhinge them, damage them, make them lose themselves. More often than not, the results are pretty gruesome.

“Henderson spent less than five minutes staring into me, grilling me about some stupid assignment; and it completely overwhelmed him. I turned his mind into anarchy. And he was lucky! If he’d been exposed to me much more, he could’ve had a major psychotic break, which he might never have fully recovered from!”

A somber silence descended upon the room. Chaarvi had given Simon more to digest than he’d bargained for.

He no longer doubted Chaarvi’s claims about the danger she posed to others. It was a troubling discovery, for sure. And yet, as he laid comfortably beneath her naked body, basking in her sublime warmth and softness, Simon was greatly reassured to realize that his feelings towards her hadn’t changed at all. She was still profoundly beautiful; the girl of his dreams. There was nowhere else he would’ve rather been than in bed with her.