Cassie's Curse Ch. 01

Cassie's Curse

by BlackNight99

Chapter One

Technicalities

Mamie stood rooted to the spot, staring in horror at the scene in front of her, like watching a slow-motion train wreck unfolding, the cars piling up like the years of her life, all being destroyed in a single, gut-wrenching act. She wanted to turn and run; but for some reason, she had to keep looking. Her sister, on her knees, there in front of the couch; Mamie's husband sitting in front of her; his pants around his ankles; his bare knees spread wide; his head thrown back in ecstasy, resting on the back cushions; his face screwed up in passion while Cassie's head bobbed frantically on Reggie's vein-bulging erection.

And Mamie thought: I've never done that to him. In all our years together, I've never knelt in front of him like that. Is that why this is happening? Am I to blame?

Reggie moaned loudly without raising his head, while simultaneously, Cassie made a surprised "Mmmph!" sound, her cheeks suddenly bulging. And then, in a mixture of awe and revulsion, Mamie stood and watched her sister's throat muscles contract, relax, contract again as she gulped. Slowly, purposefully, the kneeling woman turned her head to the left and stared across the room, up into Mamie's eyes. Cassie worked her throat one last time, one last swallowed betrayal, like taking a final sip of a friendship, then she slowly slid her lips from Reggie's deflating shaft. And she smiled.

Mamie made a noise, deep in her clutched throat, though she later couldn't remember exactly what kind of noise it was, and she spun to her left and fled toward the stairs leading up to her bedroom. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes dry, her knees together, her back straight, prim and proper and ladylike, when Cassie pushed the bedroom door open and joined her, sitting beside her as they always sat, like they always had, as if nothing at all had happened between them.

"Go away," Mamie said softly.

"No, I won't" Cassie replied calmly.

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

"I thought you loved me."

Cassie, already making contact all along their sides, shifted slightly and tucked her arm through her sibling's, grasping Mamie's hand. "I do. Nothing's changed."

Mamie tried to pull away, then gave up. Gave up, just like always. "How can you say that, after ...." She didn't find it possible to put the act into words.

"I never wanted you to see that. I was ... compelled to do it. I was going to explain it to you later. I was expecting your little errand to take longer."

"I knew right away something was wrong at the pharmacy when they didn't have any prescription for you. And my cell phone was dead, and I couldn't call you. And, what do you mean 'explain it to me?' How could you possibly explain something like that? And what do you mean 'compelled?' How long have you and Reggie ...? When did you start ...? I thought you were a lesbian, for Chrissake!"

"We didn't, and we've never, and I am, and I'll explain it all to you; but it's a long, sad story." She took a deep, sighing breath. "I'm in real trouble, big sister." Cassie always called her that, because Mamie was nine months her senior. Mamie was also four inches shorter, and that added irony to the moniker.

The comment made Mamie start, and she turned and stared deeply up into the other woman's eyes. Her emotions were like a cyclone, going in every direction at once.

They had always been so close, so ... together: the perfect odd couple. Mamie was petite though curvaceous, shy, introverted, bookish. She had been hopelessly in awe of the boys in high school, constantly in the grip of hormonal lust, yet emotionally incapable of finding any sort of romantic attachment. Cassie had always been tall, svelte, athletic, socially outgoing and sure of herself.

Their only commonality had been their devotion to each other; and that was the rock on which their separate lives had been built. Mamie was certain that they had never lied to one another, never questioned, always confided. Long before Cassie "came out," she had divulged her sexual identity to her sister, and they plotted together how to break the news to their parents and friends. And it was Cassie who had played matchmaker between Mamie and Reggie during senior year, then had visited them regularly all through college. Only two years ago, she had been Mamie's maid of honor and helped her plan every detail of the wedding.

She had been crushed when Cassie had gotten the sports scholarship to UIC, then decided to stay in Chicago after graduation. Mamie and Reggie moved back home to the St. Louis area after four years at the University of Missouri. The distance between the two cities wasn't THAT far, but sometimes it seemed unbearable. Mamie had missed her sister SO much, and had been hugely excited this morning when she heard that Cassie would be coming into town and staying with them for a while.

"You're in trouble?" Mamie asked meekly while wondering silently why she wasn't staying on-topic. She'd just caught her sister giving her husband a blowjob, for cryin' out loud! But somehow, this new revelation seemed even more shocking. "You're having trouble, and you haven't told ME about it?"

Cassie shrugged. "It just happened. A few days ago, on Saturday. It seems like forever, though. Crap, sis, I really screwed up. I did something that's going to change things for the rest of my life. But ... I think that maybe ... maybe I might be able to make it work without going completely off my rocker."

"What are you talking about? Nothing makes any sense!"

"I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything; though you're going to find it ten shades of weird. Let's go out to my room where we can talk. I need to show you something." She rose, then reached out toward her sister. "It's all connected. It's why I made Reggie do that downstairs. Come on."

Mamie took her hand automatically and stood. "Made him?! Nobody has to MAKE a guy cheat! It's built right in!"

"Come on out and I'll ...." Cassie suddenly stopped dead. "Wait. What?" She stared imploringly at her sister. "Are ... Are you talking about Reggie? Is he cheating on you?"

Finally, the tears came. "What? Are you jealous now? You thought you were the only one?"

It was contagious. They were both crying now. "How long?" Cassie demanded. "How long have you suspected him of having an affair? Do you know who it is?" She pulled her sister into an embrace, and while Mamie resisted for a moment, she relented (she always relented!) and allowed herself to cuddle into the warmth of protecting arms.

"His secretary," she confessed after a blubbery sigh. "More than a month now, I think. I wasn't certain at first, but I found the text messages on his phone last week. Some of them were quite explicit. I didn't realize she had been joining him in Kansas City for his business trips."

"Fuck!" Cassie declared loudly. "I didn't think it was possible! I KNOW the damn asshole still loves you! I can guarantee it! It never even dawned on me that he'd cheat! Why the hell didn't you call me when you found out? You should never go through something like this alone!"

"She's everything I'm not," Mamie sobbed. "Thin and beautiful and confident and feminine and ...." She seemingly couldn't go further. "And I always go crying to you about everything! Just because I'm not alluring enough to keep my husband interested .... And even YOU can take him away from me after being here just a few minutes!" She gave a shuddering sigh. "Oh, Cassie, I'm very, very confused."

"Well, that's all about to change." Cassie took her hand and led her from the room. "We're going out to the apartment. I need to show you something that's going to start solving your problem. And mine."

It was a ... comfortable home; sixteen rooms, almost four thousand square feet. Reggie was the third generation running a very profitable company. They had a detached four-car garage with an extremely nice apartment above. Since Cassie had told them that she'd be "staying for a few weeks," it had been decided that she'd use that, in order to give her all the independence and privacy she'd need.

Mamie allowed herself to be pulled along, following meekly, out of the bedroom, back down the stairs and toward the kitchen door; but she pulled up short as they passed the entry to the living room. Cassie, forced to pause in her journey, cast a look of impatience at her sister.

"We can't just leave him like that," Mamie declared.

"Why not? Suddenly, I don't have much empathy for the cheating bastard."

But she released Mamie's hand and allowed her sister to move to the couch, where Reggie sat snoring loudly, his head still resting back on the cushions, his hands lying limply at his sides, his bare knees still splayed obscenely. Mamie tried not to look at his shriveled and oozing cock as she spread a throw blanket over him.

She gravitated back to her sister and her hand automatically sought out Cassie's, as if she were begging to be led through this crisis. "Shouldn't we wake him up? I can't believe he went to sleep just sitting there."

"Guess I wore the poor schmuck out," Cassie responded, leading her through the kitchen, out the side door and toward the long exterior stairs that led up to the apartment, grumbling: "Men! So pathetically predictable!"

The apartment was one, huge studio. A large lounging area was in the center, three couches forming and big "U" that faced a large TV screen. Along one wall of the room was a kitchenette and dining area, while a "study" area took up most of another, with bookcases, desk, computer table and filing cabinet. A king-sized bed was in the far corner, flanked by a dresser and a wardrobe. A bathroom was the only detached room in the space. For some reason, Cassie guided her sister to the desk and computer area, sat her in one of the two executive swivel chairs, and took the other one herself, pulling them close, facing each other.

"Okay," she said. "Here's the deal. I've never backed down from a fight, especially if it's with a man. But Saturday night, I met my match. If I knew then what I know now, I would have run for the hills and never looked back! But ... it's too late now. I fucked up, big time."

Mamie blinked and furrowed her brow. "Who was it?"

"A warlock, Mamie! A fuckin' warlock! Can you believe it?"

"What?" She studied her sister carefully, cautiously, fearing a joke. "You can't be serious! You're telling me you believe in witchcraft?"

"I didn't, but I sure as hell do now!"

"Cassie, that's just crazy! You're the sane one! You're the rock! You know that spells and magic and stuff aren't real! You KNOW that! How can you be so certain it's real now?"

Her sister sighed deeply. "If I'm going to tell you the whole story, if I'm going to confess the sin that earned me this punishment, then I'm going to have to go back a ways. Do you remember Coleen Richardson?"

"Of course! You lived with her during your senior year. You were lovers. She was a really, really sweet girl. I liked her a lot."

Cassie sighed again, a wistful expression on her face. "Yeah. I loved her a bunch. She was the only girl I ever met who was more submissive that you. That's what eventually came between us. She got to be really clingy. She had to touch all the time. She never wanted to make any decisions ... ever. She ... 'needed' me too much, I guess." She shrugged the thought away. "Anyway, do you remember what she did for a living?"

Mamie nodded. "She was into research, right? Chemistry and stuff. She was always wearing a lab coat."

"Yeah. Well, one day, she came home and told me about something the university bio lab had developed that had intense psychotropic properties. As soon as they realized that it had the potential for abuse, they dropped the whole project like a hot potato. But Coleen began to obsess about it. She whipped up a batch of the stuff and brought it home, some white powder in a little blue bottle, then insisted we experiment with it ... experiment on HER!

"Well, the crap was amazing! She knew all about my interest in hypnosis. I mean, I WAS a psych major, and I made no secret of wanting to make hypnotherapy a profession. I think it was one of the things that attracted her to me in the first place. She took a moderate dose of the stuff, and within minutes, she was spectacularly suggestible. She was in a light trance, just waiting to be taken deeper. Literally anything I told her became the truth, at least in her mind. It was something that was simply too good to be true. And it was colorless, odorless, tasteless, immediately soluble ... it was irresistible temptation in a bottle!"

Cassie paused to let the story sink in. "Coleen became hooked on hypnosis. Well, no, that's not quite right. She became hooked on the IDEA of being hypnotically controlled. For her, it was the ultimate acquiescence, the ultimate capitulation. Our relationship fell apart. Oh, I'm sure she wanted nothing more in the world than to be my little fuck-puppet for the rest of her life, but she didn't love me. She only loved my control. And I didn't want someone like that. I had been a member of a sub/dom group for a while ... that's how we had met, she and I. I went back to it and found a woman who I thought might be right up her alley. I was obviously right. They're married now, and Coleen's had one kid through artificial insemination, with another one on the way. We're still in touch, and they seem very much in love, quite devoted.

"But, before we parted, Coleen had smuggled the ingredients for a lifetime supply of the 'surrender powder.' That's what she always called it. And, I confess, I took advantage of it. I couldn't seem to help myself. A little pinch of the stuff in someone's drink, and any girl was mine. Not someone who was dopey and drugged-up, but a girl who truly DESIRED my sexual control. After a little of that shit and a few gentle words, she was comfortably, happily, eagerly willing to do anything I wanted her to do."

She held up both hands to stop her sister's upcoming comment. "I know, I know. It was a despicable thing to do! I'm guilty as hell, and I'm a horrible person! But, oh Mamie, the POWER! You can't imagine the feeling it gave me! And I did it over and over."

She leaned forward, conspiratorially, and through sheer force of habit, Mamie leaned forward, too. It meant that the most intimate of secrets was about to be shared. "And ... I justified it to myself like this: that the girl I was doing it to was enjoying herself as much as I was. I told myself that I always left her satisfied, fulfilled, content, a better person because of the encounter they'd just submitted to. I told myself that again and again. And eventually, I really started to believe it. It never even once occurred to me that someday there would be a reckoning for my sins."

She leaned back and seemed to steel herself for the coming part of the story. "Saturday night, I went to one of my favorite pick-up bars; and, as soon as I walked in, I saw her. OMG, Mamie, she was cute! Small and pretty and shy ... just like you. She seemed lost, like a little puppy the first time away from its mother, big-eyed and alone. Her whole persona screamed: 'Take me! Use me! I'm SO vulnerable!' And I never even paused at the door. I waved to the bartender, who I knew, and I said: "Bring us two of whatever she's having!" and I walked right to her booth and slid in opposite her.

"She said her name was Misty, and she was just waiting for her friends, who were late. I patted her hands and told her that I'd wait with her until they showed up. Well, come to find out that she was in the wrong bar; but of course, I didn't tell HER that. Oh, God, Mamie, I wanted her! I ached for her! I couldn't wait to take her back to my apartment and comfort her all weekend long. And it was SO easy! She kept glancing toward the door, hoping to see her friends. And I timed it just right, so that one time she turned and looked, I sprinkled a little of the magic powder into her drink. Just like that.

"And then suddenly, HE was there. He just plopped himself down on her side, so that she instinctively had to scoot over. And he was loud. And he was using her name, telling her that the others would be with us soon, and he said something about somebody at work, and he turned and yelled to the bartender, ordering another round while pointing toward his glass, and he told us to drink up because more was on the way. Little, innocent Misty looked like a deer caught in the headlights, staring up at him with a sense of startled wonder. Nobody could get a word in edgewise, but I began to feel panicky. At his command to drink up, Misty had downed half of her drink, and I knew instinctively that the effects would hit her very soon now. What was I going to do?

"But, all of a sudden, he shut up. After his constant, loud droning, the silence seemed deafening. And at last, little Misty said 'Who ARE you?'

"Well, the guy simply smiled. When he looked at Misty, the smile was sweet and patient, but when he looked at me, it seemed sinister and condescending. He patted the girl's hand. 'I, Misty, am a warlock. Do you know what that is?' She shook her head in the negative, her red hair bouncing, a look of confusion and awe in her eyes. I started to say something, but he turned and pointed an accusatory finger at my nose and growled 'Silence! Sit and be still!' And suddenly, I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. And, I was very, very afraid.

"He patted Misty's hand again, and I remember thinking how odd that looked. He had huge hands, and hers were tiny in comparison. His eyes were soft and kindly, and he told her that her friends were waiting for her in the bar down the street. He gave her specific directions. Then, he stood and helped her up. She looked back at me in confusion and said: 'What about her?' And he said 'Oh, I'll make sure she's taken care of.' And he sat back down across from me. And I couldn't move. And I couldn't speak.

He gave me a look. It must have been the same look an exterminator gives a rat. My eyes flickered toward the girl as she was leaving through the front door, and he said: 'Oh, don't worry about little Misty. I've neutralized the drug you put in her drink.'

"Then he began saying something in Latin. At least, I assume it was Latin. I couldn't understand it, but it certainly had some sort of impact. My mind wandered back to all the times I had used the powder, to all the women I had taken advantage of. My vision faded. My consciousness ebbed and flowed. Something bad was about to happen, something horrific. Of one thing only was I absolutely certain: I deserved this. Whatever this thing that was about to occur, it was my punishment, and it was fully warranted. My executioner had somehow found me, and now I would follow him willingly to the gallows. The bar and all of our surroundings seemed to fade away.

"Suddenly, I was naked, and the harsh feeling of industrial carpeting was grating my bare knees. It must have been a motel room, but I couldn't seem to focus on the furnishings around me. The warlock was sitting in a cheap stuffed chair, still clothed ... sort of. His pants and underwear had been pulled down, and his cock was huge and fleshy and pointing toward the unseen ceiling. A feeling of absolute repulsion and disgust knotted my gut, but that cock was the only thing to look at, the only thing to see, and I couldn't help staring at it.

"'Your sin was sexual in nature, and so shall be your punishment,' he told me flatly. 'You prefer the sexual company of women.'

"It was a statement that required an answer. 'Yes,' I replied meekly.

"'Then your curse will be to satisfy a man. You will use your mouth. You must assure sexual gratification to a human male. Without guaranteeing HIS sexual pleasure, your daily requirement will not be fulfilled.'