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The Claiming of Cassandra

By: Ms_Figg
folder Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 6
Views: 5,316
Reviews: 47
Recommended: 0
Currently Reading: 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
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First, the Cleansing

Disclaimer: This story takes place in the world JKR created. The characters and storylines are original. No $$$$ is being made by this fic.

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Chapter 2 ~ First, the Cleansing


Cassandra led Marcus into the hut, and set him down on a stool facing her.

“This will be a hard part, dragon man. You must remember I am not an ordinary woman. I am Obeah. You cannot act with me like you would another. Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” Marcus said, nodding and wondering what Cassandra had in mind.

“You stay on that stool, dragon man,” the Obeah said, as she lit several tallow candles and moved a table and several chairs out of the way, so the area in front of him was cleared. She then walked outside, and after a few minutes, returned with a large bowl of what appeared to be water, a branch and a cloth. These she sat on the floor before Marcus.

She then walked over to a wicker basket set on the floor by the front door, and rifled through it, coming up with a bit of rolled cloth. She unrolled it, revealing some dried herbs. She broke off a bit, rerolled the rest and redeposited the cloth back into the basket. Marcus watched her with interest.

Cassandra knelt before Marcus, and crumbled the herbs over the bowl of water, murmuring what appeared to be an incantation. The herbs landed on the surface, then disappeared, the water bubbling for a moment, then becoming smooth as glass.

Cassandra stood up and faced Marcus. Backing away a bit, she reached up and found the loose end of her turban and slowly began to unwind it, her eyes on Marcus. She removed it. Her black hair was braided into two cornbraids. These she undid, until her long hair fell loose and crinkled about her head. She looked feral, wild, and desirable. She reached down and grasped the hem of her dress, and pulled it up over her head. She wore nothing underneath. Her body was beautiful, her skin the color of cocoa, her large full breasts, topped by darker brown nipples. Her waist was small, and her abdominal muscles strong and well defined. Her ample hips were curvaceous, her thighs smooth and muscular, and fine, curly black hair covered her sex. She was an athletically built woman with strong female attributes and Marcus eyed her with tongue-hanging appreciation. His cock was standing straight up and throbbing within his pants.

“Cassandra,” he breathed as his eyes swept over her body, “Gods, I have a sudden, terrible craving for chocolate.”

The Obeah laughed, her teeth flashing brightly in the candlelit hut.

“Cha, dragon man. You fight that sweet tooth, hear? We have much to do before the ritual. You act like you have never seen a naked woman before.”

Marcus swallowed. “I’ve seen women naked before, yeah. The problem is I’ve never seen you naked before…”

“You’ll get used to it, dragon man…if you’re lucky,” she said smiling.

Cassandra was completely comfortable standing naked before Marcus. After all, most of her rituals required nudity, and she was used to it. Marcus on the other hand, was sweating profusely and gripping the edges of the stool so hard his knuckles were white.

Cassandra walked up to him. He was sitting on the stool, with his legs spread. She stepped right between them. She looked at him sharply as his eyes telescoped. She shook a finger at him.

“Dragon man, you must remember I am Obeah. You cannot touch me intimately, understand? It is a great disrespect. You must control your urges while I bathe you,” she said softly as she gently pulled up his wifebeater.

Marcus raised his arms and she pulled his shirt off him, her breasts mere inches from his face as she raised her own arms. Marcus bit his lip to keep from cursing. All he would have to do was lean forward a little and…

“Dragon man!” Cassandra chided. “You stop those thoughts. This is hard enough for me without you making fire run up and down me body!” Indeed, Cassandra was beginning to perspire a little, her body glistening slightly in the candlelight. She was very turned on, and she almost wished she were an ordinary woman, then Marcus could take her where she stood and there would be no repercussions. But with power came responsibility, and the rites of the ancestors must be respected or her power would be taken from her. Still, she allowed herself to run her hands from Marcus’ shoulders to his abdomen, feeling his muscles ripple in reaction under her palms.

“It’s not fair,” Marcus groaned.

“What, my dragon?” Cassandra said, her hands still pressed to his abs.

“That you can touch me, but I can’t touch you,” he said through clenched teeth, his eyes fixed on her face, black with desire.

“An Obeah’s right,” she replied, her honey eyes dark as she looked down at him, wishing she could kiss him. She could…but that would be too much for the wizard. He would grab her, she was certain. She could feel his desire in her own belly, and it was powerful

“Stand up, Dragon man,” she said softly, stepping back.

Marcus stood up. His jeans had an unmistakably large bulge in front. Cassandra unbuttoned his pants, and Marcus actually whimpered as she tugged them down, kneeling in front of him in the process. He began to mentally count backwards to keep the impure thoughts that were trying to form, at bay.

A thought slipped through as he wondered if Obeahs gave blowjobs, then he winced as Cassandra looked up at him with a wry smirk. She didn’t look angry though. She just shook her head and stood up.

“Step out of your pants,” she said, grinning at the pattern on his tented boxers as he did so.

“Smiley faces?” she laughed, “it must be a happy place down there.”

“Not right now,” he growled.

She laughed again as she hooked her hands into the waistband of his boxers and lowered them as well. Marcus’ cock sprung out as if on a spring, nearly hitting the Obeah in her face. She jerked her head back just in time. She looked up at him, and he shrugged.

“I didn’t do that on purpose,” he said defensively. What the hell did she expect? She was buck-naked, beautiful and undressing him. What was a wizard to do?

“Step out,” she ordered, and Marcus stepped out of his boxers. She then removed his flip-flops and set them to the side. The Obeah women then picked up his boxers, jeans and shirt, and folded them neatly, walking over to the table and setting them down. Marcus admired her ass as it rolled like thunder when she crossed the room. Dear gods…how long was this going to take?

“As long as it takes, dragon man,” Cassandra said, walking back over to him and assessing his body. Marcus was a well-built wizard from head-to-toe. Cassandra felt a swell inside as she looked at his body, and saw how ready he was to take her. He had a pretty cock, she decided as she studied the proud way it stretched out its head from the blonde tangle of hair at the base. She would have to touch it in a moment. She hoped Marcus didn’t have a hair trigger.

Marcus was in his own private hell as he stood naked before the lovely, nude woman of his dreams. No, not woman, Obeah. If she were just a woman he’d have her bent over something by now, listening to her accented voice chant his name, his hands buried in that thick black mane of hair falling over her shoulders.

“Marcus,” she said, her voice sounding broken, “please, please try to keep your thoughts in control. I can hear them…and it is not a good thing right now,” she said, her breasts heaving.

Marcus knew that she was feeling what he was feeling, and he probably could seduce her…but what would happen if you seduced an Obeah?

“I think, maybe I should dress you, Marcus?” Cassandra said quietly, looking up at him with glowing eyes and a scowl. She had heard his thoughts.

“No. No, Cassandra…I wouldn’t do it. I just couldn’t help thinking about it…you are so beautiful and I’m so impatient.”

Cassandra’s eyes ceased to glow, but she still scowled at him.

“Cassandra, you know I am a wicked man. Wicked men have wicked thoughts. But I wouldn’t touch you unless you give me leave to do so. Don’t be angry, please,” Marcus said.

Slowly the scowl left her face, and a very small, wry grin replaced it.

“Yes, I have chosen a wicked, wicked man to be my lover. I must remember that,” she said as she picked up the cloth, dipped and dipped it in the bowl of water, soaking it.

“Lean down a bit, Marcus,” she said. Marcus leaned until his face was directly in front of hers. She raised her hands and twisted the cloth over his head, so the water ran down from the crown, like a small baptism. She muttered some indecipherable words as she did so, and Marcus felt light-headed for a moment. Then she opened the rag and wiped his face with it.

“You can stand back up,” she said as she bent and wet the rag again. When she bent, Marcus looked up at the thatched ceiling of the hut. Cassandra rose and saw where his eyes were and smiles as she washed his ears and behind them, then rinsed the cloth again, washing his neck and shoulders, working her way down the front of his body. When she came to his cock, she didn’t hesitate, but wrapped her warm hand around it, lifted it and washed it gently, over the head, down the shaft and over the balls. She put Marcus through this torment twice. She could feel him pulsing in her palm, and she felt the urge to caress him a little longer, but he was red with need, the veins standing out so full of blood, and he seemed to be having trouble breathing. His hands were curled into tight fists, and he watched her, his eyes completely black, his body taunt like a cat’s that’s ready to spring.

Marcus was aching. The contrast of her brown fingers curled around his enflamed shaft was one of the most erotic sights he could ever remember seeing. Then she released him, and he could breathe freely again. It didn’t last long, because when she washed his thighs, legs and feet, she had to kneel in front of him again, and her hair touched his cock several times.

Finally he said, “You didn’t say torture was part of the ritual.”

She chuckled and turned him around, bathing him thoroughly. So thoroughly he jumped a few times.

“You must be clean all over,” she grinned.

Finished with him, she pushed him gently back on the stool. She took the branch, dipped it in the water, and shook it over him, again whispering an incantation.

“You stay here,” she said as she picked up the bowl and cloth and walked outside.

Marcus heard a splash as she disposed of the water, and another incantation.

Then she entered the hut again with a fresh bowl of water, a fresh cloth and the same branch. She walked back to the wicker basket, rifled through it and pulled out another different rolled cloth, removed some herbs, and brought them to the water bowl, crumbling the herbs into the water.

Again it churned, turning pure white, then going smooth again. She looked at Marcus as she dipped the cloth into the water, and twisted it above her own head, letting the water run over her hair and whispering another incantation, much longer than the one she said over him. Then she handed him the cloth.

“Now, you must bathe me,” she said, her eyes on him intensely, “but you cannot let your flesh touch mine, your hand must be under the cloth at all times. And you cannot linger over me, Marcus. You must bathe me without taking advantage. Do you understand me? This is important.’

Marcus nodded. He dipped the cloth in the water, wrung it out, and ran it over her face, neck and shoulders. He dipped it again and washed her arms, and sides. He dipped it again and holding his breath, he washed her breasts and belly. He got through it, and washed her thighs, legs and feet, then turned her and washed her back and buttocks, as she instructed, but came to another difficult point when he had to finally run the cloth between her legs. Cassandra couldn’t help her breath quickening, and her eyes going half-lidded as he slipped the cloth between her thighs and rubbed her pussy as gently as he could as he cleansed her thoroughly. Bathing a woman was much different that bathing a man. He removed the cloth, but his eyes were fixed to her face, and his jaw was clenched with desire. He could feel her heat through the cloth, and the musky scent of her arousal filled his nostrils as he bathed away her wetness. He knew it was already replaced.

Cassandra opened her eyes fully and looked at him with such longing, it was all he could do to remain seated on the stool.

“Cassandra,” he said hoarsely.

“Shh, dragon man. Don’t say it. This part is over. You made it through. You did not disrespect me,” she said, picking up the bowl and cloth, and exiting the hut. Once again, Marcus heard a splash and a muttered incantation. Cassandra returned empty-handed, and smiled at Marcus, relief on her face.

“I was worried there for a moment, my dragon,” she said, “you make my knees weak. Make me want to sink to the ground and draw you down to me.’

Cassandra sighed as Marcus’ nostrils flared wide open at her confession of need. She continued, “but if we were not to go through ritual, and you took me…I would bring shame on my ancestors, be disgraced and lose my powers forever. And other worse things.”

This sobered Marcus a little, and he wrested himself into better control. He did not want to be the reason for the Obeah’s downfall. He would go through the ritual for her…but when he got her…he had two years worth of longing to work off.

Cassandra’s eyes went hot as she saw his thoughts.

“You are lusty, dragon man,” she said, her voice thick with anticipation.

“You have no idea, Cassandra,” he growled.

The Obeah and the wizard locked eyes, gazing at each other, swaying slightly like magnets, attracting and repelling each other.

“Enough,” Cassandra said, tearing her eyes away from Marcus’, who eyes had been locked in black mode from the moment he entered the hut. His eyes went to black only when he was feeling strong emotion. The rim of violet iris was barely visible, he was so aroused.

“What’s next?” Marcus asked.

“Your body is bathed, now it must be prepared,” she said softly, moving to another part of the room and reaching into a makeshift cabinet, removing what looked like little pots of paint.

“Er, what exactly will you be painting?” he asked.

“A little of everything,’ she replied, stirring one of the little pots, then approaching him.

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A/N: Man, this has to be sheer torture for both of them…but man, what foreplay, eh? Please review.
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