A Secret of Witchcraft

While the old lady went away to talk to a pastor, I daydreamed wondering where the college was and if I could walk to it. The church lady decided to let me sleep in one of the church's unused meeting rooms, and I scored a comfy couch. The younger girls had to sleep on the floor of a gymnasium in the school attached to the church. Coincidentally, church lady said I wouldn't be allowed to attend any of the retreat sessions over the weekend.

I fell asleep pretty early. I guess long bus rides are more taxing than I imagined. In the morning, I snagged a muffin off the breakfast table before the other girls were even awake. With nothing else to do, I decided to find the Columbus College of Art and Design and see what a real college looked like. I enjoyed a couple of hours wandering about. There was a really cool farmer's market with things I'd never heard of like "Baklava". Everything was too expensive for me to buy. I imagined a few spells that might help, but I never got around to them. The college had about a dozen big buildings and some of them were made of glass five or six stories tall. There was a glass covered room called the "atrium" sandwiched between buildings. It wasn't anything like the colleges in movies.

All the doors I tried were locked. Some people slid cards through slots to get inside, but I didn't have a card. I stood on tip toes and hopped up and down to peek in windows. Disappointed, I walked around the block, and I was about to go back to the church when Calder called my name.

"Come on in," he said. "I'll buy you a Pepsi."

A couple of boys pushed past me with a rolled up carpet, and one of them propped the door open with a ratty old shoe. I felt like I stirred a bee hive. I only saw a few people on the sidewalk, but there was a crowd buzzing here and there inside.

Calder found the last open table in the middle of the atrium. "It's move-in day," he said. "The upperclassmen are finding their studios and getting things set up. The first year students won't show up until tomorrow."

"What does this place teach besides drawing?" I asked.

"There's Fine Arts, Animation, Comics, Crafts, Fashion Design, Film, History of Art, Illustration, Industrial Design, Interior Architecture." Calder counted them off on his fingers. He added, "Photography, too."

"I kind of know what comics, film, and history are." I smiled.

Calder laughed and invited me on a tour. "This is my studio," he said and gestured into an open door. It was not a very big room, but it had a floor to ceiling window on the side opposite the door. "It has good light."

It also had a mini-refrigerator where Calder kept his Pepsi. I raised my eyebrows realizing he probably planned to get me in his "studio" from the beginning. A chill went up my spine even though it was pretty hot and stuffy in there. It felt like some kind of "slip-click" as if a missing piece of the universe just slotted into place.

I nodded and pointed toward the door with the Pepsi bottle. Taking the hint, Calder led me further down a corridor lined with similar studios. Students hurried around us, and several studios were already in use. One girl had hair so short I could see muscles moving in her scalp while she chewed gum. She wore a sports bra and shorts and was still covered in sweat. Another room had a rough looking bald man with an old-fashion handlebar mustache.

Calder said, "It's getting hot in here. The air conditioning is probably off or can't keep up when people are opening the doors all the time."

I turned to him. "How much does it cost to go to school here?"

"I'm not sure. I think it's around thirty thousand if you count living here."

I looked at my hands. That was more money than my dad earned in a year. The college felt like a place I should be, though. I liked to think all the weird people could teach me a thing or two. They seemed intense and passionate about whatever they did. A couple with matching short hair walked past holding hands and then leaned together for a kiss. I couldn't tell which one was the boy or if either of them was a boy.

"What would I have to do to go to school here?" I asked.

"I assume students submit a portfolio, high school transcripts, and that kind of thing. That's the way it worked where I went to school."

"What's a portfolio?"

Calder ended the tour back at his studio and answered, "Students collect their best work for a few years and put it in a portfolio so they can show other people. Sometimes, they just take pictures to show."

I bent over to look at some of Calder's drawings where they lay stacked beside carved wooden masks and a big black penis sculpture. I hoped the penis was as exaggerated as the masks, or if it wasn't, I was glad I didn't get that boy I once sought. Calder noticed where I was looking and said, "It's a fertility symbol." I raised my eyebrows and privately noted that most of the drawings were crazy spaghetti like the one from the bus.

I flopped on the floor next to the window and pulled my knees up to my chin. Calder's studio had a good view down to the street. I knocked on the glass, but none of the busy people on the sidewalk looked up.

Calder's hands moved in a blur wiping chalk on paper and raising a multicolored dust cloud. I didn't mind. I closed my eyes to imagine what it would be like living at the college. As I searched my feelings, Calder flipped a page and started another drawing. When he paused for a moment, I pulled my sweaty t-shirt over my head thinking the girl in the sports bra had the right idea. I didn't have a sports bra, but the half camisole I wore to stop people looking through my white t-shirt gave me about as much modesty.

I was more comfortable and stretched out my legs. It seemed to inspire Calder. Without thinking, I rolled my t-shirt into a tight knot and juggled it from hand to hand. After a while, I stuffed the ball between my thighs and crossed my legs. Visions of making a portfolio danced behind my closed eyelids. I wasn't conscious of rocking and clenching my thighs until the little orgasm became almost inevitable.

Calder stared at me with a strange expression. I flashed a half smile and asked, "Can I try drawing with your chalk?"

He handed down his pad and as many pieces of chalk as he held in one hand. He looked into my lap where my thighs parted and the t-shirt ball remained. The legs of my shorts left a gap that might have exposed some of my panties. I smiled to myself and then scolded myself for thinking sexy thoughts. You'd think the orgasm I just had would have cleared my head.

Stretching and then concentrating, I used green and brown to draw the scene outside. I tried not to think too hard about it and made wild gestures like Calder. I closed my eyes part of the time because seeing scribbles made me feel silly. I only spent a few minutes before I glanced at my creation and handed the pad back.

Calder half fell into his chair without looking up from my drawing. He landed hard and almost tipped over. "You've been pulling my leg. You're a student here, aren't you?"

"What do you mean?" I asked shaking my head no.

"This is really good. You're really not a student here, an instructor?"

"No. Could I be?"

"Let's find out. Are you willing to draw another one?"

"I guess so."

Calder offered a hand up. When I accepted, he kept his grip and pulled me out of the room. He dragged me to another studio and knocked on the closed door.

"Dr. Henri, do you have a moment?"

The door swung wide, and an old man's eyes focused on my breasts before looking to Calder. "What can I do for you?" the old dude asked.

Calder gestured to me and said, "Andrea, this man is the President of the Academy."

I smiled for a second.

"Dr. Henri," Calder paused. "I met Andrea on the bus yesterday. She's interested in studying here, and I want you to see something."

Calder showed my drawing of the street and asked me to do it again. I begged for some more colors, and while Calder ran back to his studio to fetch the chalk, I excused myself to go to the bathroom.

The bathroom said unisex and had a door that locked. My reflection in the full length mirror smirked at me. Drawing came easier than I thought. Just to be sure, I slid off my shorts and panties to stand bottomless in just my sandals and half camisole. My fingers slid easily between familiar folds. I seldom did it standing up, but I liked the look of myself in the mirror. I used a spell called "the pinch" to tease myself by tugging on the hood over my clitoris.

Sweat soaked my camisole by the time I came. Its thin white material let some of the flesh tone of my boobs show through, and my nipples stood out. I wiped myself mostly dry and washed up splashing cold water on my face wetting the camisole further. My shorts and panties felt clammy when I pulled them up.

"Did you get lost?" Dr. Henri asked, but he continued before I could speak. "What sort of training have you had?"

I looked at the big sheet of paper Calder held before answering. "I had art class in grade school."

"Where do you go to school now?"

"I graduated from high school last year."

"Show him what you can do," Calder nagged and handed me a large sketch pad.

I rolled my eyes and selected some chalk at random. I looked around the room for something interesting to draw and decided to use Dr. Henri since he was staring at my boobs anyway. My arms flailed and my whole body twisted in an exaggerated version of Calder's technique. I closed my eyes. It took longer to fill the large sheet of paper than Calder's other pad, but it still only took a few minutes.

When I squinted at my creation, I recognized a hint of Dr. Henri's face along with his pose and body language. I nailed the pattern on the vase behind him though. I was proud of that part.

"It's a kind of performance art," Dr. Henri mused. He scratched his chin and looked closely at my multicolored mess. "Remarkable."

I looked back and forth between the men. Silence stretched. I feared the answer, but I asked anyway. "Can I go to school here?"

"We'll have to see," Dr. Henri replied and shook his head in a way I couldn't interpret. "Remarkable."

Calder thanked his boss and apologized for taking up time. Then he walked me past an office on the ground floor by the crowded atrium so he could collect a pile of forms and brochures. He bought me a sandwich from a cart at the side of the atrium. While I ate, he wrote a list of things I needed to get from home. "Do it first thing on Monday," he insisted. "The semester's about to start, and I want you here when it does."

He flattered me, and I beamed back at him. We must have seemed like an odd pair. I had put my wrinkled t-shirt back on by then, and it looked like I fished it from the trash. Smudges of chalk covered my hands and face. Calder's hair lay matted because he brushed it back so many times and squeezed his head between his hands while I drew Dr. Henri. Calder looked like Einstein if Einstein was a twenty something guitar player with stains on his shirt.

After I thanked Calder, I practically ran out the door to the street. I had to jump up and down and pinch myself. My mind raced. I had a lot to do in a short time. I called my parents right away from a pay phone, and they didn't sound very happy about my news. Their reaction kind of squashed my excitement for the rest of that day. I spent Sunday morning exploring a bit beyond the neighborhood around the college and stumbled upon The Ohio State University. I hardly entered a corner of it before deciding it was far too big for me. There were probably more people there than in three whole counties combined around home.

I didn't say anything to Ashley about the college. The packed return bus meant Ashley sat next to me. I got bored and asked about the retreat. She babbled about the spirit in her and a rededication to her mission. She went on about charity and chastity and other qualities I had never seen in her. None of it made much sense to me. My thoughts drifted to the next spells to cast. My normal fidgeting and squirming got to be almost agonizing knowing I had to wait to start.

I took care of as much witchcraft as I could late that night in my own bed. It felt so good after about 16 hours of abstinence. I remember thinking, "I'm a horny little witch." I took my time at first. I closed my eyes and brushed finger tips against my nipples so lightly I could barely feel it. My fingers slid around the sensitive outside edges and down my sides to my hips. That always makes me squirm. From my hips, fingers travelled slowly to my inner thighs. Gently, slowly, I pet the side of my clitoral hood - no pressure at all. I wafted over the edge and crossed one spell off my mental list. I kept at it until well into the morning and half a dozen spells later, I switched to some powerful magic. I rarely put anything other than my finger inside me, but there was this one toy. I'm still embarrassed to say, it was Dino Dog. His arms were smooth at the end and about as thick as my finger. It was hard plastic. I slid one of Dino's hands in and, I guess, indulged in a miniature "fisting". Of course, I didn't know that term until much later. Dino's hand hit all the right spots inside. To top it off, he had a pull cord, and when I released it, something inside him made a soft "He he he" noise that vibrated just right. Combining "He he he" on the outside with a tiny fist filling my inside made me cum hard.

It only took two orgasms on Monday afternoon to get the college applications sorted. The first spell helped my dad coincidentally find my Social Security card nobody had seen in years. I felt bad for the other one. I had to use the public library computer to type everything up, and it took longer than I expected. The library usually closed at 6 on Mondays. About ten minutes before closing, I retreated to the ladies room. When I got back to the computer, the librarian said I could stay a while longer because she planned to be there late herself. I hoped she didn't smell the musk I had just stirred into a lather, and I hoped I didn't keep her from her family or anything important.

My dad paid extra for Priority Mail, and I waited with building impatience until Dr. Henri called a few days later. He said, "Andrea, I'm sorry we can't offer you a scholarship this semester. You've missed all the deadlines set by the bank we use to handle financial aid."

My heart sank. I should've cast a spell for financial aid specifically. No, that would be too much like a spell for money. Dr. Henri went on, "What I can do is offer you a job. Would you like to work in the Student Services office? It doesn't pay much, but you could get an apartment nearby and maybe sit in on some classes until the next semester starts. By then, we should be able to offer tuition assistance."

I squelched the urge to jump up and down long enough to thank Dr. Henri and agreed to start work the following Monday. I guess my parents didn't think it was all real until then. We argued for hours. I would've walked to Columbus if I had to, but mom and dad grudgingly drove me back. Dad payed the first month's rent for a tiny apartment, just one room and a bathroom, above an out-of-business furniture upholstery shop. Mom cried, and dad kissed me on my forehead before they drove away. I flopped on a futon and congratulated myself for masturbating my way into college.

Calder and Dr. Henri suggested I come to an introductory figure drawing course because it started in the evening, and I could get to it without taking time off from my job. For the first week, we drew little wooden mannequins in odd poses. After that, we drew our own hands. My pitiful efforts embarrassed me. Everything I tried looked like a child's stick figures.

Ms. Cleft, the instructor, stood behind me making me nervous. "Look for the lights and darks. Try drawing only the shadows," she repeated.

Some of the other students sniggered at me. It had been a few weeks, and I hadn't made any friends at college other than Calder - maybe because I lived alone away from campus. The food in the Atrium cost too much. I usually skipped lunch and ate something cheap at home later. I didn't hang around school very late or go back out at night because, even as naive as I was, I knew I lived in a terrible neighborhood.

One morning, I stepped out my apartment door at the top of squeaky rotten steps to find a filthy smelly man peeing against the wall below. I waited for the old guy to finish before I huffed down the steps and introduced myself. "I'm Andrea," I said and, after a moment's hesitation, offered my hand. He flinched away.

"George," he said, "Dragon Slayer," he mumbled.

I didn't skip a beat. I said, "That's interesting. I'm a witch." He gave me a squinty eyed once over and seemed more afraid of me than I was of him. "Walk with me?" I asked. "I'll be late for work if I don't keep moving, but I'd like to get to know you."

George followed a few feet behind making me wary, but I could tell he had a good heart. It might be part of my craft. I took a deep breath and offered, "I might know where a key for the shop is hidden."

"What shop? mumble mumble."

"The shop you peed on."

After a while, I added, "It's full of comfortable furniture, and it'll be warm in the winter."

"Where's the key?"

"I'll make you a deal. Don't ever pee or poop or make any other messes near my door or let anyone else. Promise me, and I'll meet you outside the shop tonight around 7:30. I'll show you where to find the key."

He only stopped shambling behind me when I turned the corner to the Art Academy block. I made a mental note to find some time during the day to cast a spell for finding the hidden key. I didn't know for sure a key even existed, but it would be a juicy coincidence if my claim to George turned out to be true. It felt like the kind of coincidence I could influence.

I spent all morning scheduling plumbers and locksmiths and carpet people to fix problems students found in their college owned lofts. I overheard an argument between a couple of girls. They went into the mediation room behind my desk, but their voices carried through the wall. Amanda was upset because Margaret had a man sleep over in the girls' shared loft. Margaret insisted she never promised to be exclusive. Amanda accused Margaret of a spiteful transparent ploy to make her jealous. My ears burned.

I grew up in a sheltered rural town full of unemployed miners and little else. I understood what a lesbian was from TV and loose talk at school, but as far as I knew, I hadn't ever met one. OK, I suppose technically Margaret was Bisexual. My boss acted as mediator and got Margaret and Amanda to agree neither would have overnight guests without getting the other's approval in advance. My heart swelled when the girls reconciled. I could tell they loved each other deep down.

I took my lunch break to get an overdue opportunity for spell casting. It's sometimes difficult to get in the mood for witchcraft in a public ladies room with people coming and going. I worried people would notice if I locked myself in the unisex bathroom for an hour, so I picked my lunch time for an hour when I knew Calder was teaching a class and wouldn't be in his studio. I relaxed knowing I'd have the room to myself and could take my time.

Calder's fertility totem served admirably as a magic wand. I judged the thing too big to put inside me, but the bumps along its shaft put me in a spell casting frame of mind. Once it warmed to my body temperature, it felt lovely. I played a game where I tried to count the bumps as they slid ever so slowly between my lips. Focusing on the sensations and planning my spell, I started to worry it wouldn't work. Spells for such specific things tend to fizzle or produce surprising results. When I couldn't take any more stimulation, I clamped my thighs around the big ebony penis and rode it like a thick broomstick. It felt so good between my legs. Once I recovered from the casting, I was more sure than ever I'd find a spare key.