Dreams at the Weis House Pt. 03

A shelf reference! I excitedly moved through the stacks until I found a row of shelves labeled 'P.' I searched down, looking for numbers, finding 56, then 60, and finally 68. An old cardboard banker's box labeled with a simple tag was before me.

I opened the box, finding a mass of papers within. I took my grandfather's bracelet from my purse, keeping it nearby.I flipped through: Most of the papers looked to be papers from his time studying biology at the university, but hidden int he stack I found an old, slim, leather covered journal. A name plate read 'Journal of Randal Roberts' above a familiar sigil, one shared by my inherited bracelet and the book I'd stolen that led me to this place.

I inhaled shapely, feeling Mary-Ann's generous breasts swell. This was it. This is what I needed.

The box replaced in its spot, I simply walked out of the room with the book. I hid it under my jacket as I made my way to my car expecting at every moment to be stopped by security, but no one noticed my theft.

I drove home, first stopping at my parent's house to get a few things, then back to the Kaewa house. I sighed as I stripped my borrowed work clothes: I'd miss this form. I looked sexy standing naked in the bedroom, the library lanyard nested between my generous breasts.

I'd need to do laundry to cover my traces when I returned tomorrow to water the plants. I owed my neighbor big for her help. I'd brought the enchanted egg over and crushed it, forcing me back to plain, boring Cindy as I sighed in disgust. I laughed as I realized I was still wearing the lanyard, then replaced it on the mirror with another unhappy look at my pale and unexciting body. I dressed in clothes I'd brought and carefully looked for anything out of place.

Home safe, I poured over the journal from a recliner in the living room.

Randal had been older than anyone knew. We'd thought he'd been born in the fifties, but he'd been born in 1933, just a few years too young to fight in World War II. He had found the Exegernomicon while on a research trip to Germany in the 1962. He'd brought it back, fascinated by it, but unable to crack it's secrets until 1965 when his wife, Marla, had fashioned the bracelet I now wore. He studied it feverishly as I had, and cast a few minor enchantments, much as I had. The magic had spiced up some parties they'd attended, apparently. I blushed as I read of the magic being used to enhance wild orgies they'd held for students and faculty alike after he'd become a professor.

The entries turned dark: He'd felt a presence watching him and focused on protective magics. Some I recognized, like the charm I carried to prevent minor injuries and such. Others had eluded me in my own searches through the book.

I came to his encounter with Ergrod, when he'd seen the horrid thing come to him and promise power for service. My grandfather had seen the thing's plans, and it was not for the furred creature to be his servant, but for my grandfather to serve the twisted creature.

I turned to the next entry, my hand shaking.

My grandfather, whom I remembered as a kindly and loving if perhaps slightly eccentric old man, had given his first wife Marla over to the creature. He'd tied her up and allowed the beast to have it's way with her. His words described the thing taking her first in her vulva, then her anus, and finally her mouth over perhaps a week of nocturnal visits to the old house they'd lived in just blocks from the Weis house.

I flung the journal across the the living room, horrified.

It was perhaps an hour before I recovered the book, a page now permanently bent and torn from being thrown under the sofa. My mouth was dry, but I needed to know more.

He'd cast more and more magic to cover up Marla's disappearance and woo Beth, my mother's mother. I think this was when he started lying about his age and using magic to cover his tracks. That union had led to my mother's birth a year later and comment suggested he was happy for a daughter with the intent that he might be able to trade her for more magic once she was an adult.

Sickened I had to read more. He'd used his magic to turn a rival into a rapist. This act had cleared the way for a tenured position at the University. He'd used his magic to make women into lust-filled brainless whores and sold them into slavery to a whorehouse down near the docks. Later in life he'd withdrawn and merely used his powers for personal enjoyment and even sent his servant, Ergrod, away.

My grandfather was a monster. He'd used the magic I'd learned for horrible things. I'd tried to use it to help people and to fix things, but he'd used it to destroy lives.

More worrisome, I'd unknowingly begun the process of bonding myself to the fiend Ergrod. Perhaps one more time and he'd have me as his servant. I'd hoped to bend him to my will as a Familiar to aid my magic, but I'd be his. I don't think he'd devour me as he had Marla, but I have no doubt I'd be a slave to his whims. Perhaps he'd keep me as a I was now, able to enact his will in the human world. perhaps I'd transform into his wife, bound to his flesh forever.

If only I'd found Randal's journal before the book: I could have cast the spells Randal had perhaps, and protected myself from the thing's corrupting influence. Even better, perhaps I would have gained the foresight to never mess with magic and it's innate decadence.

I found myself in the bathroom vomiting at the horrors I'd discovered.

I dreamed that night of my Grandfather teaching me in my impromptu lab in the Weis house. He wore the sigil-bracelet, while I had a duplicate stitched into a finely-made collar I wore upon my neck. He was dressed in a dark robe inscribed with arcane runes, while I wore little more than strips of cloth that left my genitals exposed and accessible.

FRIDAY

My parents had returned home Tuesday after I'd spent the morning doing laundry at Ms. Kaewa's and making sure my indiscretions in her home would not be discovered. When not cleaning I'd continued studying both my ancestor's journal of wickedness and the accursed tome I'd stolen, desperately seeking a solution to my problem. I did not think I could simply swear off magic now, as I'd be a weak and pitiful thing useless to anyone. I know Randal had not proved every secret within the book and could only hope our combined research would find a way to drive the thing away. Until Ergrod was defeated I would be a constant risk to myself and my family.

I theorized my past liaisons with Ergrod had been safer when I had been in charge of my actions, but I knew my resolve could not last. He was a wicked creature of lust given form, and I could feel my resolve weakening whenever we've met. I panicked again while eating lunch at a local sandwich shop: I thought I'd smelled his armor, and was paralyzed by fear and arousal until I convinced myself it was only my imagination.

The rest of the week passed as I continued studying. Ms. Kaewa would return home tomorrow.

TUESDAY

I must now add arson to my own crimes. I'd considered it as a tactic to shield myself from Ergrod and decided it was the only reasonable option. I'd used more money from he stripper-roll I'd earned weeks before to fill gas cans at various stations around town, then taken them to the Weis house. I'd doused the old wooden-framed house with copious gas and set a fire, running as it spread. I watched from a distance, the only joy in my life seeing that place of misery consumed by smoke and fire.

I did not believe a creature such as Ergrod would be destroyed by mere fire even if he was caught in the blaze but I am hopeful I have at least delayed him and his schemes.

This is my confession. I'm no murderer like my grandfather, but I burned a house because of the evil it contained. I do not regret it.

WEDNESDAY

My research continues as my parents prepare for another trip. My brother needs their attention and I understand this. At least they've ignored my own odd behavior of late as I know I've been reclusive since I've learned the truth of my grandfather Randal Roberts and his crimes. They'll be gone for three nights as the Semester begins next week and my father has classes he must teach.

This does give me time for a pleasure I've been reserving. I've been reluctant to try any spells despite the growing need within me to feel the magic flow, but I'd created a fantasy potion for my neighbor. She's a beautiful woman I admire, and she deserves a night of passion.

THURSDAY

I took the potion at around two in the afternoon, feeling myself warp and change as I had before. My plan was to go over to Mary-Ann's and give her a night she'll remember.

Again, I had no idea what form I'd find myself in and the uncertainty exhilarated me. This change felt different somehow, and after a moment I felt a shiver and was apparently unchanged. I'd become experienced and could sense the magic rise and fall, now resting around me.

I looked ay myself in the mirror: No, not totally unchanged. I stripped off the bulky sweater I wore and the shirt beneath. I had tits! Perhaps not as impressive as my neighbor's, but my new bra said I was a B-cup now with large rosy-red nipples. I wasn't quite as impressive as my first transformation to Carol, but more than enough. I finished stripping and noticed a few other changes: My butt was pleasantly rounded and shapely. I turned to look and noticed I'd developed a tramp stamp! Some fantasy of Ms. Kaewa included me with a 'Daddy's Girl' winged tattoo above my ass. Another above my smooth, hairless slit of a mermaid, and a tribal design around my ankle. I'd lost a tiny bit of height, but no more than an inch or two. I'd gladly trade my height for the rack.

I realized I was her fantasy. Maybe some tweaks, but she'd been fantasizing about me naked even as I'd been walking in her body. The idea of being desired by my neighbor turned me on and I had to force myself to control myself and get dressed so my neighbor could unwrap me as her present.

I walked next door, ringing her doorbell and finding myself fantasizing about our night to come. Nothing. No one answered the door and I realized she must have left her house on an errand. I was frustrated and found myself spinning around like an idiot on her doorstep unsure if I should go home or just let myself in.

I finally settled on letting myself in. I stumbled through the doorstep and stripped off the winter coat I'd worn, hanging it in the closet as I knew she preferred. I tossed my backpack below it. My arousal had grown the entire trip and I found myself practically collapsing on to her couch, my hands groping my new tits and plunging as deep as I could to stimulate my needy pussy and sensitive clitoris. The thoughts of her tongue between my legs sent me over the moon and I orgasmed fully clothed on the couch.

I drifted off to sleep for a bit, exhausted from my sudden burst of lust. When I woke I found myself able to think straight, but still confused. My Mary-Ann hadn't come home, but I'm sure she would soon. I checked around: She'd left her luggage in the hall and a mess on the counter, perhaps the remains of her lunch. I found myself in the bathroom to freshen up. Some whim had driven me to grab my backpack. I opened it and was suddenly reminded of the things I'd found in Cynthia's transformed luggage. I had not expected Mary-Ann's fantasy to involve a French maid outfit, but I blushed and became aroused again as I drew forth the black outfit with white lacey trim.

I'd wear this for her. I'd wear anything she wanted. I stripped, stepping into the outfit's short black skirt and tight almost corvette-like top. Tall stiletto heels made up for the height I'd lost with interest, and I found myself walking with a shortened gait, unused to the heels.

I applied makeup that I didn't remember adding to the bag, Much more than I'd normally ever use. Eyeliner, blush, lipstick in a dark red shade that matched what she used on her fingers.

And then I cleaned. There's worse fantasies, but I actually cleaned in the outfit. I found myself cleaning the kitchen counters from Mary-Ann's earlier mess, then sorting through her luggage. I started laundry and was preparing to tackle the cluttered master bedroom when I found myself leaning over the a side table to dust a plant as the goddess entered.

She was as I remembered: nearly six feet tall with wonderful shiny black hair and a round, friendly face with plump, kissable lips. Her tits put mine to shame and I knew I'd find her insatiable in bed.

"What... What are you doing here?" I said.

"Oh, silly!" I my voice had switched to be high and lyric. "I'm just cleaning up a bit, mistress."

I shook my ass as she dropped her bags on the counter. Her eyes were wide as she stared at me in obvious lust.

"Cindy? Are you... OK?"

I straightened and turned, savoring the feel of my larger tits with the nipples nearly showing over the cups of the outfit. I thrust my chest out as I walked over to her, my heels clicking on the tiled floor. I hugged her. With my heels I was only a few inches shorter than her and found myself wrapping around her arm, my head on her generous bosom.

A voice in my head was screaming that something was going wrong, but I couldn't stop myself. Mary-Ann didn't question me as I looked through her bags, calmly and efficiently placing things in the refrigerator or cabinets. My task complete, I pinned Mary-Ann against the wall and looked into her wide eyes, "What else can I do for you, mistress?"

I felt her resolve thawing and ignored her mumbled comments about, "just a dream."

Leading her by the hand, I pulled her up the stairs to her bedroom. As we entered I turned, holding her firm sensual hand in both of mine and said, "I'm so sorry I haven't cleaned in here, mistress. I've been naughty and really need to be punished."

I loved just looking into her eyes, but needed more. She was dressed much as I was when I'd come over in a sweater and jeans. I placed my hands under the bottom of her sweater and checked her face. She still seemed surprised, but raised her arms as I pulled the sweater over her head. Underneath was an old t-shirt from some librarian conference which I pulled over her head as well. I nuzzled her shoulder with my head and whispered in her ear, "What else can I do for you, mistress?"

She blinked, and led me to the bed. Holding hands we sat on the edge of the bed. She wore only jeans and a plain white bra that reminded me of the one I'd worn when I'd been her a few days before. I wore the intricate French maid outfit I'd found in my things as I dressed to please her.

"Cindy, we can't do this. You're my neighbor. You're only eighteen!"

"Nineteen" I said automatically, looking deep into here eyes. "Don't worry. You've helped me more than you'll ever know and this is just for tonight, a little fantasy to make you happy the way you deserve. I rubbed her muscular thigh, dreaming of placing my head between her powerful legs. I adjusted, resting my cloth-encased breasts on her shoulder.

She groaned and I could tell her resolve was crumbling. I kicked off my high heels and kneeled on the bed, feeling my nylons sensuously brush against my legs. I moved behind her and began massaging her shoulders drawing forth a deep groan as I worked her shoulders and back.

I playfully bit at her neck and ears. as I unlatch the half-dozen hooks that hold her bra in place. Removing the unnecessary garment, my hands moved around her waist to lift her glorious tits. One hand moved downward, creeping slowly into her jeans. I could feel her underwear and ached to get her naked, but she seemed to enjoy the slow process. She'd need to help get me naked after all.

"Wait." she said with a forceful tone, causing my to freeze instantly. I licked my lips as she continued. "You're really into... serving me, right?" I nodded, a whispered, "uh-huh" my only response.

"Take my pants off. Wait, put those shoes back on first."

I obeyed whimpering as her forceful tone sent a thrill through my body, especially my overexcited pussy. I'd need relief soon enough, but only after I'd gotten my mistress off a few times. The shoes slipped on and I wobbled over to her, then began removing her jeans. I undid the fly, and pulled them free, her butt wiggling to make it easier for me. I folded them neatly and placing them over a nearby chair. "And now?"

"I think the panties should be next." she said with a smile.

Again, I obeyed, relieved she'd finally given in to her fantasy. Her panties were simple white cotton and I could see a neatly trimmed landing strip peaking over the hem and just visible through the thin cloth. I kneeled down before her, still making eye contact. I reached out with my shaking hands, but pulled back, and broke eye contact, using my teeth to grab one side. I pulled them down with my teeth, using one hand to assist, savoring her smell and the groan of pleasure she'd made as I'd rubbed over her.

I looked up, biting my lip in anticipation. I could see her heavenly orifice inching towards me. Her lips shone a light pink against her honey-brown skin, dewey with her own arousal.

She pushed my head in. I needed little guidance and joyfully pursued my newest task. It was my pleasure to have my first experience at cunnilingus within her. I probed delicately with my tongue, then with more pressure. I grabbed her softly rounded thighs and listened for her joyous moans, allowing them to guide my tongue. My own burning needs were forgotten as I felt her pleasure. I added my deft fingers probing her innermost places and savored the taste as her juices ran over me. I felt her strong muscles tense as she orgasmed with halting cries of pleasure. Her thighs pressed on my head as her hips thrust into me.

Finally I sensed she was spent and rose to behold her. Her eyes were closed as her hands clutched at the tangled sheets. I smiled, and went to the bathroom to clean myself. It took a while: My makeup was smeared and ruined from being pressed against her, and I regretted being unable to reapply as my owns tock was downstairs in the entryway closet. I checked the clock as I entered and saw it was only a little after five o'clock.

My mistress had moved up and was happily skimming one of the books in her pile. "That was pretty good." she said as I entered. "I didn't think you'd done anything like that before."

I kissed her on the hip, noticing her own tattoo of a rainbow flag adorning her flank. "I hadn't mistress, but you... you inspired me."

I could feel the heat in my cheeks as my blush grew. This incarnation of Cindy was strange. I felt sexy and powerful even as I felt submissive. This Cindy didn't have problems with a demonic rapist or her grandfather's blood-soaked legacy with the occult. This Cindy was free of worry.

My compulsion kicked in and I found myself downstairs, preparing dinner for us. Baked ziti seemed like an odd choice, but it's what she'd bought stuff for. I carefully mixed the ingredients, still dressed in my slightly disheveled maid's outfit. I smiled and sighed as I heard her make her way downstairs. She'd pulled her pants on and pulled a thick flannel on, but left it unbuttoned. It was almost more arosuing than seeing her topless as I caught constant glimpse of her dark nipples as she walked. She smiled at me as she stopped at the fridge, removing a bottle of wine.

"Since this is just some sort of dream, I guess..." She shrugged, grabbing two glasses and a corkscrew. I continued my cooking as she poured two glasses. Looking in the shiny teapot I could see her looking at my round rear and wiggled my behind for her.

"Why don't you go sit down?" I suggested as I pulled vegetables from the fridge and began making a salad. She listens, and I silently slip two of the lozenges I'd prepared recently. I know the sexy goddess I serve has a sweet tooth: She'll enjoy it even more if I taste like chocolate. She'll taste of oranges herself. I watch as the lozenges bubble and dissolve, then take the glasses. We clink our glasses together as I toasted to "Fantasies fulfilled!"