I Put a Spell on You

One hand was behind her head, pushing it up against his cock. He half turned so his other hand could reach her sex. He rubbed her clit, then took his finger to his mouth to moisten it, then continued rubbing. After a while he pushed her labia apart instead, entered her with a finger. He wasn't careful with all this, but though it hurt she felt her body reacting, betraying her; she knew she was getting wet.

Then he stopped touching her, stopped fucking her mouth, got up so her chest suddenly felt free and light, and for a moment she concentrated only on filling her lungs completely with air again while he now kneeled down at her legs.

She knew what was to follow, had known it all along, though she had hoped against all hope that her mouth might be enough for him. Instinctively she pressed her legs together, her knees pulled up a bit, but when he grabbed those knees with his strong, large hands, and pushed them apart, she had to give in. It felt as if he would break her legs otherwise.

She started crying again now and he leaned over her, laying down on top of her with his lower body between her legs and his cock against her stomach as if to make her appreciate its hard form once more. His upper body propped up on his arms to kiss her cheeks and her eyes. He seemed to want to taste her tears, enjoy the saltiness of her fear and desperation.

"Sh," he whispered. "It's all good. It's all going to be perfect, just like you wished for."

His words barely reached her brain. Her ability to think, to make sense of anything, was numbed by fear. She knew what was to follow, and it was what she had wished for, once, in a completely different world where everything had been different.

Her eyes were closed but it was as if she could see him. As if she was standing in a corner of the room watching herself, and him. How he propped himself up higher now, on one arm, using the other hand to guide his cock to the entrance of her sex, pressing the head against her pussy.

She was somewhat wet in reaction to his touch, but not wet enough. It seemed to be difficult to get it in. His cock was bigger than any of her boyfriends' had been, and all logic told her that it must be painful for her own unwilling pussy to accommodate it. And yes, somewhere inside her she could feel that pain, but it was disconnected from her conscience. It didn't register in her brain, as if all this was happening to a different person that just happened to share the same body.

He had worked his way deep inside her, paused a moment, then pulled back almost all the way out to repeat the same, slow motion. Just when her body started adjusting his hands grabbed her legs by the ankles, pulling them up, putting each of her feet against one of his shoulders and opening her body completely to him, allowing him to enter her more deeply. In this position he gave up his slow motions and instead started pounding into her with all his strength, as if he wanted to rip her apart.

The pain of the first violent thrust tore her out of the disconnection with herself that she had created, forcing her conscience back into her body, making it impossible to go on pretending she was just a bystander. It also made it impossible to keep her eyes closed, they opened on their own accord suddenly, and let the reality around her flow back into her brain:

She was still lying on the floor of a strangely old fashioned looking room bathed in candle light, naked, underneath this man she had thought to be the man of her dreams but who had turned out to be her night mare. He was still half dressed, and for a moment the question occurred to her whether she wasn't even worth the trouble of undressing for him.

As his thrusts turned yet more violent she moved her hands up against his stomach, tried to bring some barrier between her violated sex and him so he couldn't push into her quite as deeply, to protect herself from the worst pain.

For a few moments he seemed to allow her to do this but then he took her wrists, pulled them back up above her head, and pinned them to the floor with the help of just one hand while his other hand suddenly and painfully connected with her face in an apparent punishment for this little trick. Her mouth opened slightly but she didn't cry out, just as she hadn't cried out throughout all that time.

He stared at her with his green eyes, almost without blinking, while his face seemed distorted with arousal and excitement. He never closed his eyes, looking down at her in fascination. Only now he closed them suddenly, and leaned forward, his face approaching hers, her legs still up against his body as he was forcing her to bend them unnaturally.

His hand was still at her face where he had hit her earlier. Now he took her chin between his thumb and his fingers, pressed it, forcing her to open her mouth so she had to receive his tongue.

He let go of her hands now and also allowed her legs to slip away from his shoulders. His thrusting had become shallower but faster even, his breath very heavy. He seemed completely taken by what he was doing, seemed to even have forgotten the body underneath him, other than as a means to his end.

She could tell he was close now, started hoping again that it would be over soon, that she could get away somehow, go home and forget about all this.

His body shook violently as he came into her, he groaned like an animal as she felt spurts of his cum shoot into her. Then he sank down onto her, lying heavily on top for a few minutes. She felt his cock growing soft inside her while a mixture of her own juices, created by her body as its only means of defense against his assault, and his cum began flowing back out of her pussy. It was over.

Finally, he got up without a word and left the room.

Lying on the floor, she stared up at the ceiling. She felt sick. Her sex seemed swollen and was burning, her body weak. She was sure she wouldn't be able to move if she tried. The candles were still burning, their trembling light throwing strange shadows and reflections on the ceiling.

Slowly the cold from the thick old walls of the house was creeping through the air and through the carpet underneath her, causing her to shiver. She heard a door somewhere in the house. She started remembering where she was, why she was here. She had to get out of here! She had to be gone, before he came back, this was her chance.

Hastily she stood up, grabbing the chair she had been sitting on earlier when her legs wanted to give way underneath her; they weren't ready for walking yet. She allowed herself a moment to catch her breath, to gather strength, to assess the situation. Three steps to the door, then another six or seven steps through a hallway to the entrance of the house. Outside it was dark -- she could hide between trees and bushes; flee into the forest. He wouldn't find her there, and soon she would be too far away for him to catch her. She had to go. Now.

***

Three steps to the door. It is cold here; the hallway is dark and cold, I am almost scared to leave the warm candlelight of the dining room. Six or seven steps to the entrance of the house. I think it's raining. I am shivering already, and I haven't even opened the door yet. Will I die of cold outside? No, no, I have to hurry. He can be back any minute. There is my coat, it is hanging right next to the door. Can I afford the seconds it will cost me to put it on?

Yes, that is warmer. Now, the door. Please let it be unlocked. Please.

It is opening. Yes! I can't believe he didn't lock it! I am free! The air smells so fresh, so wonderful! Just one more step, and I am out of this...

***

For a moment she saw bright lights. Then she suddenly found herself back in her corner of the dining room naked. The coat was gone. Her whole body ached. She was lying on the floor as if someone had thrown her there.

The next moment he walked back into the room wearing a bathrobe now, and carrying a book under his arm, grinning.

"I see you are still here. So you like my humble little place?"

He cowered down next to her and grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head up, forcing her face close to his.

"I wouldn't try running away again." His voice was a nasty hiss. "There is no way you can leave this house. You are tied to it, forever, I have seen to that."

He let go of her and got up to place the book he had been carrying under his arm on the table. With a gasp of horror she recognized that it was not just any book -- it was her book, the spell book from the library.

"A neat little book, don't you think?" he spoke, his back still turned to her. "It always returns to its owner when it has served its purpose. It knows its family. My grandfather wrote it, you know."

He turned around, moved one of the chairs so it faced her and sat down on it leisurely, his bathrobe half open, but still covering most of his body. There was a happy expression on his face as his eyes fixed on her naked form that was huddled in the corner of the room and he continued speaking.

"I always tell my students they shouldn't believe everything they read in a book -- but do they ever listen? No... They take the printed word for a supreme truth. If it says 'love spell', then it must be a love spell. If it says "desire", then it must cause desire. You all think you are so smart and it never occurs to you that books can lie just as well as people can."

She stared up at him, unbelieving, unable to process what he was saying. His smile was now that of a patient teacher speaking to a well liked, if not very smart, student.

"The other thing I always tell my students is to read more than the assigned chapter. Obviously they never listen to that either. Else you might have realized that the spells you were performing were actually part of the preceding chapter. How to make her your own. Quite literally, I might say." He gave her a friendly smile. His voice was as soft now as when he was teaching literature. "You are mine now."

She felt tears welling up inside her again as she tried to hide away further into the corner of the room, but no matter how small she tried to make herself she could feel his eyes on her, a constant gaze that made her feel exposed and helpless.

"This chapter was indeed a stroke of genius my great-grandfather had," he continued. "He wrote that book, you know? I owe him a lot..."

He took his hand away from the book and opened his bathrobe further instead so that he revealed his body to her, and his manhood, which currently was almost completely flaccid, after having shot its load a few minutes earlier. He took it in his hand and started stroking it with his gaze still fixed on her naked body, and soon enough it started growing again.

"It's not that difficult. A little spell and the girl of my choosing will desire me. Then I just need to make sure she finds the book. They always fall for it. These spells that make someone's every trace disappear from the face of the earth, that make someone vanish from all their friends' memory so no one will ever go looking for them, they are very complicated magic. And they only work if they are performed by the person in question themselves... Lucky me, my grandfather knew enough languages to not have to write those spells in English."

He grinned smugly. His cock was hard again now, and he continued stroking it with slow, savoring movements.

"I wouldn't try any tricks," he added. "I have powers you can't even imagine. You are mine now..."

He stood up and freed himself completely from his bathrobe, then took hold of one of her feet and pulled her back onto the carpet. She came to lie on her stomach now, face down, and for a moment he paused to appreciate the view of her ass.

***

She really is beautiful; she was definitely the right choice. I knew I would like her from the moment she first entered my class... I knew I had to have her, and I always get what I want.

What a sweet ass, I can't wait to be inside it... Ah, she is scared of that. Don't struggle -- that will only make it hurt more... This time she will scream for sure...

***

She guessed what he was planning to do when he spread her ass cheeks apart with his hands and pushed his finger against the rosette. In panic she tried to crawl away from him. A few heavy blows of his flat hand against her behind that caused her skin to redden made her give up her attempt to flee. She knew there was nowhere to go.

He pulled her up by hear hips so she came to be on all fours in front of him and continued his exploration of her ass with his index finger. She drew in air with a hissing sound, when he managed to push in his finger, but didn't dare trying to move away again. After a while she managed to relax a bit, make it hurt less, and soon he added a second finger.

Eventually, he replaced the fingers with his cock. Holding on to her hips, burying his fingers deep in her flesh so that pain almost distracted her from the other one, he entered her slowly, millimeter by millimeter, only encouraged by the fearful whimpering sounds she uttered.

When his cock was buried in her ass completely he paused, for just a moment, so that before he started pounding into her with a force that would make her scream in pain he could finish his earlier explanation of her situation.

With a voice that sounded almost tender, he said, "You and I, we will have a great time together..."