Inveterate Womanizer

Carla was a little miffed that this woman was implying that her skills were limited, but she quickly dismissed her annoyance. She hadn't considered that there was a world of magic beyond transforming things that might be within her reach. She cursed her mother for holding out on her.

"Why should I trust you?" Carla asked, trying to keep her voice neutral.

Mariel smiled sweetly. "Because when I did this," she tapped Carla's leg again and her jeans turned to neon pink hot pants, and then back again, "I could have done a thousand things more mischievous. We don't want to harm you. We want you to come play with us."

Carla's heart was racing. She was becoming incredibly aroused by the possibilities. More power. More control. More divine satisfaction out of exerting her will and her whims on anyone she wanted. She felt herself getting wet again.

"I'm Carla. It's nice to meet you."

"I'm Mariel. Come, let's meet our teacher."

As they made their way to Lena's house, Mariel spun a convincing story about her past and how she met her teacher. She mixed some truth, like being orphaned, with some lies to make her youth sound sufficiently misguided. Carla shared her life story, describing with infuriating glee the countless instances where she selected insignificant people -- almost always men -- and changed their bodies; their old life would be gone, and in their new life they were no one. Mariel was sickened as Carla described the sexual pleasures she'd exact from her victims, and the profound arousal she'd feel just by ruining them.

They arrived at Lena's house. Mariel didn't knock; she simply waved her golden wand and the door unlocked and swung open. I have to learn how to do that, Carla thought; that could come in handy. Mariel led her inside and pointed to the couch. "Sit." Carla sat, and looked around. Why would a powerful practitioner of magic live in such a frumpy home? "Tea?" Carla nodded yes; best to not be impolite. Mariel held out her hand and touched it with her wand; a cup materialized, steam rising from the liquid inside. Lena had prepared a potion and when Mariel spoke the word "tea" she transported it to Mariel's hand. Carla was grinning like a child. This woman could open locks and pull a hot cup of tea from thin air, and she was the student. She couldn't wait to meet the teacher. She wouldn't wait long.

Carla took a sip of tea. It was fragrant and sweet but turned unbearably bitter as she swallowed it. She coughed hard and was about to say something insulting about her host's tea when she realized she couldn't speak. Suddenly terrified, she wanted to reach for her wand. That's when she realized she couldn't move either. She tried to calm herself. Maybe this was some kind of bitchy initiation that she could pull on someone else someday. She realized she was wrong when Lena walked in the room.

Carla immediately recognized the owner of the jewelry store. The store that she felt uneasy but fascinated by when she walked by. The store whose owner's husband she had transformed into a stripper straight out of the wet dream of a misogynistic 14-year old. The store whose owner was, apparently, a powerful witch.

"First things first," Lena said as she strode over to Carla. She reached into Carla's bag and pulled out the wand. Lena placed it on the table in front of Carla and blew on it. It burst into flames, burning white hot until it was completely gone. The table had not a mark on it. "You should know that any self-respecting witch doesn't need a wand." Lena waved a finger at Carla and she unfroze.

"You bitch! My mother gave that to me, and her mother before that! You had no right!" Carla started to get up.

Lena held up a finger. "Careful. Do you really want to make me angry?" Self-control was not one of Carla's strong suits, but self-preservation was. She sat back down. "Let me be very clear. You will never cast another spell for the rest of your life. What that life is like is entirely up to you. Do you understand me?"

"Who are you to decide anything about my life?" Carla spat.

Lena leaned over so that her face was inches from Carla's. "I could explain to you how it is the solemn shared responsibility of all witches to use their magic for good and, when necessary, undo the wrongs of others. But you wouldn't understand that. So, I'll put it in terms you can understand. I have the power to do anything I want to you. You remember what that feels like, right? To be able to change or destroy someone's life with no fear of retribution. I have that power over you."

For the first time since she was a little girl, Carla was afraid. Fear, confusion, helplessness -- these had been as powerfully stimulating as real sexual contact. Memories of laughing while a desperate man, his soul deposited in an unfamiliar body, struggled to drive her to orgasm or perform some other demeaning act in the hopeless pursuit of being changed back. Day-dreaming diabolical what-ifs, only to act on them and writhe with pleasure afterwards: what if I lured the bouncer into an alley and made him cry as his penis vanished into his new seventy-year old female body; what if the cop who stopped me for speeding had to lay back on the hood of his cruiser while I licked his shaved pussy as truckers drove by honking their horns; what if the old white man at the diner who yelled at a black waitress became a nineteen year-old black girl when no one was looking. How could anyone have that power and not use it?

And yet, these two women, both with more power than she had, had destroyed her wand and were threatening her life. Maybe she could talk her way out of it.

"They all deserved it. The people I changed. They were cruel and demeaning, taking advantage of others. They had it coming."

"Like my husband?" Lena asked softly.

Busted. Any attempt to grab the high ground was lost. Carla had changed Brad out of spite. She saw happiness and wanted to not just destroy it, but to transform it, for one of them at least, to humiliation. And she knew Brad was only the latest example. So many men in the wrong place at the wrong time, who said or did some tiny thing that caught Carla's attention. Gone. Erased and replaced with a desperate woman, who couldn't comprehend what had happened and would have to come to grips with a new life, which often began in a hospital or a jail. Their tragedy was delicious comedy for Carla.

"What do you want?" Carla snapped.

"First, I want the names and location of everyone you transformed. I need to clean up the mess you've made."

"Good luck with that. I have no idea who most of my toys were and I certainly didn't stick around to see who they became." The only thing worse for Lena than hearing Carla refer to her victims as toys was the looming reality that there were people out there, probably lots of them, that she couldn't save. She couldn't exactly put an ad in the paper asking for people who'd been magically changed by a sadistic psycho-bitch and trying to retrace Carla's steps would be difficult and take years.

Carla was beyond redemption. She was a product of her upbringing and her ancestry but that didn't excuse the callous disregard for the lives of others. Like anyone with her gift, she was still human, but her behavior was decidedly inhumane.

Lena was beginning to panic. She couldn't simply walk away from the who-knows-how-many lives Carla had stolen. She waved a finger at Carla who once again became immobile. It didn't do much, but Lena wanted to ensure Carla remained frightened while she considered the situation. She took Mariel by the arm and walked out of earshot.

Mariel understood the situation as well. Moreover, she recognized that if Lena couldn't figure a way out, it was probably hopeless. It's wasn't like she could come up with the answer. She looked at Lena and asked plaintively, "How can we undo all her magic?"

Lena's eyes lit up. "You're a genius!" Mariel cocked her head like a confused puppy. "You said 'undo HER magic.' There is no 'her magic!' She was never trained! She only parroted what little her ancestors knew and passed along. She never had a rite of passage." She grabbed Mariel by the shoulders and locked eyes. "She's never met her magic." She looked back at Carla. "It's time they met."

"What do you think that will do," Mariel asked.

"Honestly, I don't know. Maybe it will show her the error of her ways. Maybe it will scare the shit of her. Maybe ..." Lena's voice trailed off. "Maybe we put our faith in magic and see what is revealed." Lena had no idea what, specifically, would happen. But she felt in her heart that if Carla was exposed to real magic, a path would become clear. "I'll need your help. Are you up for it?"

Mariel briefly relived her rite of passage in her mind -- the beauty, the energy, the unbounded potential. Then she thought about her experiences with the misuse of magic. "Yes. I'm ready."

Lena wanted Carla to remain on the defensive. She walked to the couch and with the barest of movements of her finger, Carla floated off the couch and was deposited on the floor, lying on her back, arms at her side. Add one more magical skill to the list that Carla had never seen. Lena kneeled on one side of Carla and motioned for Mariel to take position opposite her.

"We're going to give you a gift, or sorts. We're going to show you all of the magic you missed. Either you never had a real teacher and started out at a disadvantage, or you chose to break off your training when the urge to exert what little power you had was too great. In either case, you grossly misused your gift. Since you'll never use magic again, we thought you should see what could have been."

"You've beaten me down, and now you're going to rub my nose in it?" Carla hissed.

"Consider this enlightenment. Do with it what you will. Close your eyes." Something in Lena's tone told Carla she should comply.

Lena and Mariel joined hands over Carla's prone body and began the exercise they'd each used in their rite of passage. Warmth spread over each of them as the images in their minds grew more and more vivid, glowing and swirling with intense energy. The two witches each reached down and placed a hand on Carla's shoulders. Carla convulsed like she'd been shocked in an emergency room.

"Look at it, Carla. Feel it. This is what's all around us, all the time. Isn't it beautiful?" Carla was too starstruck to reply. "I'm truly sorry you never experienced this before. This is the plane that only true witches can reach. It requires training and discipline. It requires love and respect for others and for magic itself. There are no shortcuts." Carla was overwhelmed. Amid her rage and defiance, a feeling of profound loss was creeping in.

"Listen carefully, Carla. I want you to think about when you first learned your spell. How you felt the first time you transformed something. The weight of your wand in your hand. Try to see your spells within the beauty and joy you're seeing." Carla tried to resist the urge, but her ego took over. She wanted to see where her talents fit into this new universe of power. She knew it would only be a tiny part -- she had seen a glimpse into how much more there was to know -- but she wanted to feel a part of this.

She almost immediately regretted it. Her mind had wandered to the rush of power she felt when she transformed someone. Watching someone, helpless and disoriented, lose everything they held dear, starting with their identity and their physical form. It made her feel invincible. That was the energy she poured into the harmonious tapestry that was endlessly reweaving itself around her. And the impact was immediate and horrible.

All three women gasped, as the colors and shapes became dark and threatening. Ominous shadows replaced prismatic currents, and a bitter chill infused the air. Mournful angry sounds filled their ears. Formless shapes lashed out, barely missing Lena and Mariel, landing their blows across Carla's body. Lena squeezed Mariel's hand to reassure her, and she squeezed back; they both realized they were just necessary witnesses. The focus of the outburst was Carla.

Carla writhed in pain. No blows were landing physically; they were lashing her very essence. She regretted the day her mother ever taught her what little magic she learned. The price was much too high. Suddenly, the nightmarish scene cleared. Lena and Mariel sighed in relief, but Carla was bathed in a deep red glow. The two witches parted hands and stepped away from Carla; they had no idea what was happening but neither wanted to be close.

The red glow intensified, followed by a blinding red flash. Carla convulsed and when the spasm ended, her body had been replaced by a tiny woman with a powdered white face. It was an exact copy of the woman that Mariel's neighbor Pete had become at Carla's hands. Another flash, and the woman convulsed, replaced by the naked body of Pete himself. The body convulsed again and after the flash a globe-breasted stripper, heels and all, lay on the floor. Lena gasped when after the next flash and convulsion, she saw the image of her beloved Brad on the floor.

The cycle of flashes and convulsions continued: a thin, middle-aged woman; a bodybuilder; a female bodybuilder; an athletic man; a remarkably tall woman with long hair and massive boobs; an equally tall, thickly muscled basketball player; a slender woman with cropped blonde hair; a middle-aged man in a business suit.

On and on it went, faster and faster, the images blurring together, the red flashes melting into a constant ominous glow. Lena and Mariel watched slack-jawed. They extrapolated from seeing Pete and Brad that they were witnessing each of Carla's victims, before and after her transformation spell was cast. They lost count after twenty and the progression continued for several minutes.

"What do you think is happening?" Mariel whispered to Lena.

"I don't know. I'd like to believe that her magic -- what would have been her magic -- is healing what she wounded, but I don't know. Maybe she's just reliving her sins before a sentence gets passed."

"Sentence?" A chill ran down Mariel's spine.

"Yes. Maybe. We may never know."

The rapid succession of changes slowed. The convulsions were less violent and there was no flash between them. Both witches soon noticed that the same seven bodies were cycling around and around. There was a pause, then the body disappeared, then a new one reappeared. Each female, each naked, each with their eyes closed. There were no men, no clothed people of any kind. The last body in the cycle was always Carla, and then it would resume.

A tear rolled down Mariel's cheek. "I understand." Lena looked up at her. "The people these women were are no longer here. The person Carla changed doesn't exist. These are empty shells. Corpses. They're ... gone."

It stood to reason that some of Carla's victims would have died. Accidents happen, illnesses set in, human frailty is constant. Some, in madness or desperation, may have taken their own lives. Whether their death was directly attributable to Carla or not, seven souls had perished in a body not of their choosing. And she was being held to account.

When the cycle began again, for the last time, as each of the seven bodies reappeared, it stood, looking down, eyes still closed. Lena rushed to Mariel's side and held her close. When all seven of the deceased women's bodies had assembled, they silently reached down and lifted Carla to a standing position. The seven joined hands.

Carla's eyes snapped open and tears streamed down her face. Terror. Frustration. Perhaps even some regret. She looked imploringly at the two witches who had summoned her magic to pass judgment. They looked back; in their eyes there was compassion but no pity.

The seven women glowed red and closed in on Carla, melting together. Soon Carla's body was indistinguishable, part of a formless red glow. The glow became smaller and fainter until it was gone, a pile of ash floating to the ground from where it vanished. Lena kneeled down, uttered a few words under her breath and touched the ashes, which then disappeared.

"Before you ask, I'm not sure what happened, but there is one way to find out." Lena led Mariel out of the house, and they made their way as quickly as they could back to Pete's apartment. Both were relieved to find a naked man where they left a naked geisha.

"Do you think he'll remember anything?" Mariel asked.

"Let's find out." Lena waved her finger and the clothes on Pete's bedroom floor reappeared on his body. She touched his forehead and he began to stir. He opened his eyes and then sat bolt upright, his eyes as wide as saucers. He started feeling around his body, checking that certain parts were and were not there. It took him a moment to realize that there were two women standing by his bed. He yelped.

"Hi, Pete," said Mariel in as calm and even tone a she could muster. She was half relieved that he'd been changed back and half amused at seeing poor Pete groping himself. "How do you feel?"

Pete paused before answering. "I don't know," he answered truthfully.

"You took quite a fall. We were worried about you."

"I did?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm glad I came home when I did. Otherwise you'd have been lying in your doorway for who knows how long." Lena put her hand behind her back and materialized a cold compress, which she placed on Pete's uninjured head. "This is my friend Lena. We found you in a heap just outside your door."

"Had one too many beers, Pete? A shot too far?" asked Lena teasingly. "It's OK. A little sleep and you should be fine."

"Sleep!" Pete stiffened at the word. "I had the absolute worst dream ever while I was out. I don't think I ever want to sleep again! I dreamed I was with this girl who lured me back to my place, and ..."

"Shhhh. Quiet now. Just relax. Get some rest. I'll check back in on you in a few hours." Mariel placed her hand on Pete's shoulder, and he drifted back to sleep. She whispered a few words in his ear.

"It won't erase his 'dream' from his memory, but the dream he's about to have will make him forget all about Carla." A smile stretched across Pete's sleeping face, as several lusty buxom women teased him into ecstatic dreamland.

Entering her apartment down the hall, Mariel asked, "Do you think all of them were changed back? What if someone was watching? How would that be explained? And if they were changed back, what will happen to them? Will they think it's all a dream, too? Will they be able to return to their old lives?"

Lena put a finger to Mariel's lips and said, "Relax. You're acting like this wasn't a good thing. There will probably be some awkward situations and half-explanations that leave questions unanswered. But people are resilient. If they were changed back, they'll find a way to keep living. The magic that took Carla was doing its best to heal and I trust that healing will happen." Mariel was about to ask ten more questions but the look on Lena's face said simply: that's all we know, don't ask.

Mariel hugged Lena. They remained in the embrace for the better part of a minute, enjoying the warmth of a loved one. When they let go both had tears streaming down their face. "Some day, huh?" Mariel quipped.

Lena laughed. "Not one I want to repeat. But you were amazing. I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks. I have a great teacher. And I saw today how important that is."

"Correction. You HAD a great teacher. You HAVE a great friend. Your learning has only just begun. The universe got much bigger for you and you need to decide which parts of it to explore. Don't worry. I'll help." Lena kissed her on the cheek, then said good bye.

She arrived home to find Brad laying out a candlelit dinner. Lena made him promise to stay far away from the house while they were dealing with Carla, and Brad more than happily complied. When Lena gave the all-clear as she left for Pete's, Brad came home, briefly reflected on the day, decided he didn't want to think about it after all, opened a bottle of wine and started cooking dinner.