Spellbound Ch. 09

An announcement before starting! Firstly, my deepest apologies for the incredibly long gap between publishing. I haven't stopped writing, but I am beginning to realize just how much is left to tell in Melina's story. It's gotten to the point where I'm considering publishing Spellbound as a full-blown novel, which, while terribly exciting for me, is a rather disappointing prospect for any readers here. Rest assured I will keep you all abreast of what I decide, and you shall have the remainder of the story one way or another.

For now, this will be the last chapter I plan to post. I will also be putting up a stand-alone short story, which may end up being used as a prologue if I can wedge it in somehow. Thank you all for reading!

***

Chapter 9

Melina sat straight and naked on the edge of the bed, delaying the inevitable. She could barely bring herself to look at the swirling black and brown of Chandra's sleeping form without feeling a wave of guilt. She yearned for another night like this, and for their circumstances to be different. The constant buzz of crickets and frogs near the water was the only sound besides their slow heartbeats, and the cool evening breeze had died hours ago.

After Melina had magicked Chandra to sleep, she'd tried so hard to remain entangled with both woman and sheets. But sharing the space had been uncomfortable enough to keep her mind from quieting, instead allowing it to return the guilt and hunger she'd been purposefully avoiding. She picked at her fingernails and steeled herself, finally willing the words to form in her head.

Altering memory was no small thing, though she had many years of practice in the art. True mastery required forethought of all possible implications of the act, and the vocabulary to execute that plan with all the delicacy it called for. Too much removed, and the subject may notice something was missing or inconsistent, and search for it. Too little, and they might be left with enough information to endanger Melina.

As she formulated her plan of action, she realized she would be unable to fully excise herself from Chandra's mind. There would be empty patches where events should have been, and plenty of other people to trigger her notice. How many had seen them leave the drinking hall arm-in-arm? How would Chandra explain away the dozen new bite marks and scratches on her body? And, most distressingly, what would she tell her companions when they inevitably asked how her night had gone? Damn! It simply wasn't feasible to hunt down and erase the memories of all involved.

That meant Melina would need to be more precise, and take more risks. But the increased danger had a silver lining: she would be remembered. Not as who she truly was, but as a one-time lover to a worthy human. Melina smiled, wondering if she might be able to see Chandra again someday, to see her writhe at the feeling of being stretched wide over smooth glass, and hear her deep voice moaning curses in another language.

The enchantment to alter her memories took Melina several minutes to voice, cutting out their conversation and her discoveries, but leaving their rough lovemaking. The delicate balance was a significant challenge, but she finally completed it with a command for her to sleep till morning. Chandra wouldn't notice the succubus's departure.

Melina spent the remainder of the night in a willow tree overhanging the river, its branches thick with enough new growth to obscure her from view. The dull roar of the river, high trill of frogs, and occasional whisper of leaves were as soothing as the plush pillows of Chandra's bed, and she was asleep in minutes. Throughout the night, her hands kept grasping at the bark beneath her, willing it to warm and comfort her in its arms.

***

The temple to Zodal was just over two miles away from the edge of Summergate, nestled in the foothills where the trees had begun to give way to scraggly bushes and weeds. While the temple itself was an intricate stone building, the surrounding complex housed three dozen monks in its widely sprawled, simple construction. Many walked to and from town daily in small groups, always clad in drab gray from head to toe.

Vasiliy was one of the few who did not raise any concern if he failed to return to his quarters each night. He spent enough time on groundskeeping duties to evade notice, but was otherwise found worshipping at the temple, or performing the actions which required such devout worship whilst in town. He was a short, slender man in his mid-thirties, with tanned skin, dark lips, and wide watery eyes. His close-cropped hair lent his face an illusion of innocence, while his actions concerning women were anything but.

He was the worst kind of lecher, targeting women who would either be too frightened or too disinterested to ensure he faced any consequences for his actions. He pinched, poked, peeked, and pestered at every opportunity, chasing the skirts of the prettiest girls his beady eyes could find. The man was infamous among the locals, constantly toeing the line for acceptable behavior, and occasionally stepping over enough to meet with severe punishment. But it never seemed to deter Vasiliy.

He was also a creature of habit, roaming into the same area of the woods at least once each day to relieve himself. He was always careful to be out of sight and hearing, so that he could softly moan women's names as he stroked his cock in shuddering motions. Sometimes he managed it twice in one venture, with little recovery between. Sometimes he cried after.

All while Melina watched silently from the trees above. She stalked his every move for three full days, staying just out of sight and analyzing his behavior for an opportunity. She'd learned purely by accident that Zodal's temple housed a sorcerer with the true sight: the ability to see things as they were, and to detect the usage of any nearby magic. He posed a formidable threat to Melina's anonymity, but thankfully didn't venture away from the temple itself. As long as Melina kept her distance, she was in no direct danger.

But it did complicate her plan to prey upon Vasiliy. She was uncertain of the range of the sorcerer's ability to detect a simple enchantment, and had no inclination to test it. She would need to be well away from both town and temple before using any of her abilities. And, she reminded herself, the man's mind would need to be unencumbered such that he could make a conscious decision to accept Melina's gift.

True, he would reek of monstrous magic when he returned, but by then it would be too late. And Melina would likely be leaving before anyone had the chance to question him.

She had caught Vardan's scent several times while in Summergate, but was careful to give him plenty of space. Melina wasn't certain she would react reasonably when next she saw him, considering how deeply he had insulted her. Though she had entertained the thought of leaving, never to see him again, she'd found it agonizing. There was too much she would regret, if she acted on impulse.

Towards the end of the second day, she'd visited the Pointed Shear to pick up a new set of clothing, whereupon they'd offered to wash the first set with barely-concealed revulsion. She'd accepted, and donned a slightly more restrictive pairing of bodice and dress. Though it practically immobilized her waist, it left her arms and legs just as free as the previous outfit had, and had a similar effect on the mind's eye.

At the end of the third day, her plan was already in motion. She'd used her charm to her advantage, manipulating a merchant and a watchman into believing she'd been a target of Vasily's perversions. That had kept him sufficiently occupied for several hours, while she hovered stealthily nearby, close enough to taste his building arousal. He was like a vessel which was constantly taking on water, barely able to bail it out enough to keep himself afloat.

When the sun had dimmed behind the mountains, and the evening breeze had chased away the worst of the afternoon heat, Vasiliy was a fragile dam ready to burst. With a head full of frustration, he set off away from town. Melina trailed silently with a daring smile on her face, at times venturing near enough to touch him. The desperate little man remained ignorant of his new shadow, and could not fathom how deeply Melina hungered for his cock.

When he began to slow and look around,Melina hid herself carefully, awaiting the right moment to strike. It arrived when Vasiliy took a prolonged breath and reached inside his robe, thinking himself alone. Melina pounced.

"Hello, good sir!" she cried, approaching noisily. Vasiliy spun to face her in utter shock, one hand still beneath the gray cloth. "Oh good evening, my priest! How lucky to have found you here. I am in need of your services," said Melina as she approached, pretending not to hear the low "damn it!" muttered by Vasiliy.

"You have need of a priest of Zodal? Now?"

"Yes, sir! It's my uncle. He has only hours left, and wishes to make peace with the gods before his passing. I was cutting through the wood to find the temple that much sooner, but fortune has favored me!" Melina strode within arm's reach, her partially exposed breast heaving. "Please, sir. I understand it is a sudden request, but I can't risk losing any more time."

Vasiliy stared with wide eyes and stiff shoulders, wracked with indecision. His dedication to his faith was surprisingly admirable, but the need to sate his boundless lust usually dominated his existence. And while Melina would have much preferred to subdue him in the usual way, she resisted. It took no small amount of effort.

Melina recognized the need for Vasiliy to make the decision on his own, untainted by any enchantment on her part. But she was not above befuddling his mind in other ways. The dress she wore covered most of her chest and shoulders above the bodice, but the wide neckline allowed it to dip open if she shifted it in just such a way. And the ruffled skirt, long and colorful, had a slit up each side which ran nearly to her hip. Melina sidestepped, exposing her leg.

"Please," she said again, softly. She reached reached for his hand and deftly laced her fingers through his with a gentle touch. "I would be in your debt."

Vasiliy's eyes flicked about, unsure of where to focus. His hand trembled in her grasp.

"Very well," he said with a deep sigh. "I'm at your service. Lead on."

"Oh thank you!" Melina exclaimed, to which the dutiful priest inclined his head. Melina turned, pulling him along by the hand, and smiled slyly at the thought that he did not yet have any idea what she was thanking him for.

***

Though the walk was only a few miles along easy paths, Vasiliy's agitated sighs and scoffs filled the air, nearly outcompeting the birdsong. Melina kept the breeze at their backs, in order to savor his scent of frustration. In truth, her own impatience was nearly as great, but the feeling of power she held over him was intoxicating. The act of puppeteering men into her clutches was often as much fun as consuming them. She didn't allow herself to linger on the thought that both activities might soon be disappearing from her life.

Her every move was carefully calculated to be torturous to poor Vasiliy: a confident sway in her hips, frequent rearrangements of her hair, and enough small downward steps to set her body bouncing about. Vasiliy would probably like to think he was being subtle, stealing brief glances and sighing in exasperation, but subtlety had never been his game. Had the setting been different, Melina would've undoubtedly been a target of his leering. But, despite the temptation, he was keeping that part of himself locked tight for the sake of his priestly duties.

Their walk seemed to pass in the blink of an eye due to the growing anticipation. Melina began scanning their surroundings for an appropriate location once the temple was well and truly beyond her senses.

"Now, then. Vasiliy, was it?" Melina's tone had changed from the distressed maiden to her usual confident purr.

"Yes, my lady," he said with a hint of nervousness at the shift. Melina scanned the relatively flat ground they'd entered. Years of fallen leaves from the enormous oaks above had created a soft carpet beneath their feet.

"I have another favor which requires the services of a priest. For you see, I have a confession to make." She turned and met his gaze with a slight smile.

"Is there time?" he asked, looking past her.

"Oh, yes. Plenty. Because, dear Vasiliy, I must confess a lie: that there is no Uncle. No dying man needing to make his peace." She stepped towards him. "In truth, I have no need of a servant of Zodal. I am only in need of you." Melina flicked back the wide hood of his grey robe, and allowed her hand to linger on his shoulder. He watched the hand, then cocked an eyebrow.

"Me?" he asked in a flat tone. Vasiliy shrugged off her touch and backed away. "Do you think me a fool? Who put you up to this mockery, eh?" He chuckled humorlessly and shook his head. "Was it Grel? Or Pietro? It must've been him. What did he pay this time?"

"Nothing of the sort, Vasiliy," she said gently, feeling a pang of sympathy. "I'm here to make you an offer."

"Oh, an 'offer'? Is that what it's called? Is an expensive whore such as you really so desperate to fetch a high price, that you would isolate me in the woods first?" His voice dripped with sarcasm, and held an edge of distress.

"Hear me out before you pass judgement so quickly," she said, holding up a hand. When he scoffed angrily, Melina interjected. "I can cure you of your affliction."

That got his attention.

"You... you what? How? And I'm sorry, but I don't recall hearing your name."

"I didn't give it."

Melina ignored his stuttering attempts to voice a coherent question, and leaned casually against an oak tree. The exposed side of her leg distracted him long enough for her to speak.

"Listen to my proposal, Vasiliy. I will explain, and answer any questions you may have," she said calmly. Her relaxed posture seemed to soothe Vasiliy, who still watched her closely.

"Very well," he said stiffly. "I'm listening."

Melina described her identity and capabilities in detail, knowing she could safely erase all traces of herself from his mind if need be. To Vasiliy's credit, he did not run screaming back to town at the mention of a widely-feared monster. Nor did he interrupt, or outright refuse to believe her. He listened attentively, and asked several pointed questions when Melina had finished, sussing out possible risks or trickery on her part. From the lack of fear or anger, it appeared that he truly wanted to believe everything Melina was saying.

All throughout, his eyes wandered further and further, and the air thickened as it became apparent he was considering assent.

"And what would you ask of me in return?" he said after a long pause. The light had dimmed, and with it the possibility of returning to town.

"The act itself is reward enough for me. I will feed upon what I take from you." Vasiliy scoffed in response. "What were you expecting? A demand for gold, or the sacrifice of a limb?"

"How am I meant to know? I've never made deals with monsters before," said Vasiliy as he rubbed his neck. "I simply find it difficult to believe there is no downside to your offer." Melina laughed.

"Most would consider the permanent loss of their sexuality to be a significant downside."

Vasiliy cocked an eyebrow pensively, then nodded in agreement. Though he attempted to conceal it, the tenting of his robe betrayed how his thoughts wandered in the momentary silence. Even as he turned from view, she could smell it on him.

"And your sorcerer with true sight will likely know what occurred," she added.

"Almost certainly. But what can he do?" He shrugged, unconcerned. "The gods have seen fit to finally answer my long years of prayer. You're certainly not what I expected, but who am I to question their judgement?" His small hands flitted from hair to hips to neck, quivering with nerves. "I'd begun to believe I would never find an answer for my salacious mind."

His faith was a funny thing. Melina hadn't been sent by anyone, certainly not by a deity. Yet, despite having prayed for years without answer, Vasiliy seemed to believe that the gods had only now deemed to grant his wish. Whatever he chose to believe was of no concern to Melina, but she realized it might have been the first time she was viewed as a blessing rather than a curse.

"Is there anything else I should know?" he asked.

"There is one thing. You will of course know what has happened to you after tonight. However, I need to take steps to ensure you don't know too much of me." Vasiliy looked as if he couldn't decide whether to be alarmed. "I will allow you some freedom of choice regarding how much you remember. Perhaps it would be better not to be reminded of what you will miss in the future. Perhaps you would like something to look back upon fondly. The choice is yours."

Vasiliy looked at the ground for a minute, deep in thought. In the warm twilight, distant birdsong began to fill the silence. The trees overhead filled and fluttered as the breeze picked up, while Melina remained as still as each of their enormous trunks, staring at Vasiliy with more intensity than she'd intended. She licked her lips as she imagined all that she could do to him, growing agitated as the seconds ticked past.

"And all I have to do is let you fuck me," said Vasiliy, more to himself than Melina. She nodded, noting that his phrasing had revealed how he might want it. Finally, he took a deep breath and said: "Very well. I accept."

"Excellent," said Melina, as her eyes flashed with excitement. She crooked a finger at him. "Come here." Vasiliy reacted as if she'd enchanted him with the command, leaping to obey. He stood within arm's reach, his breath quick and shallow.

"Now then, Vasiliy..." she said slowly.

"Just Vasya, my lady," he interjected.

"Vasya, then. Tell me: do you enjoy being told what to do?"

Her hand was at his neck, barely grazing him with a touch as smooth and light as flower petals. His form went rigid.

"Yes, my lady."

"Do you prefer being given orders, rather than control?" Her fingers were at his throat, and she felt him swallow hard. Melina leaned in close. "Do you wish for me to take you in the manner I please? To ravish you until you're all used up?" She drew out the final sentence, popping her lips on the last word. She was near enough for her breath to caress his cheek, and she felt gooseflesh prickle along his skin.

"Yes, my lady," he said in a rushed whisper.

"Mmm, 'my lady'. I quite like that." Melina circled behind him, trailing her fingers along his skin. "And I love the way you say 'yes' to me." Her hand slid beneath the collar of his robe, smoothing along his warm chest to the opposite shoulder. With her forearm barred across his collarbone, Melina pulled him close, his shoulders rigid against her breast. Vasya gasped, but did not speak.

Though Melina knew it was nonsensical to torment him so, she wouldn't miss the opportunity to have her fun with such a rare delicacy. If rumors were to believed, it had been at least a decade since Vasya had felt the touch of a desiring woman, and he'd spent every minute wishing for it. Melina's own hunger could wait a minute longer.

She wrapped her other arm about his waist and held him tightly. When she felt his thin body relax with a contented sigh, Melina nuzzled against the side of his head reassuringly, hopeful that he could allow himself to be lost in the moment. Although his actions towards other women were undeserving of such sweetness, Melina could hardly fault him when her own history with men was so much worse. She had much to repent for, and who better than with a priest?