Succubus Pt. 01

Chapter 1: The Witch's Assistant

"I'm serious. I can't stop thinking about her. I don't know what to do."

I hadn't even sat down in the car and Olivia had already picked up where our text conversation had just left off.

I had to laugh. "Olivia, seriously?" I climbed into the car and tossed my book bag on the floor.

"I'm serious, I can't get her out of my head, she's all I can think about, she's like a cold I can't get rid of." She was a little wild-eyed, like she hadn't slept well or had already had too much espresso for 8 o'clock in the morning.

"Hey," I reached out and touched her cheek. She stopped talking and looked me in the eye. "Do you wanna just go back inside and fuck so you can get it out of your system?" My tone was a little mocking, but I was only half-kidding. I would have happily taken her inside and watched her orgasm two or three times and she knew it.

We had been friends since grade school. We used to spend the night at each other's house almost every week when we were little. We were as close as two friends could be. We were like sisters.

Nothing had ever come between us. And once our hormones kicked-in, puberty was like everything else - we shared our experiences, played with each other's bodies, and just sort of figured it out. It had never been weird or strange, maybe because we were so close, but we were what guys called "fuck buddies". We took care of each other with no strings attached.

So, having known her since our hair was in braided pigtails and plastic, blue barrettes, I knew how she could get when she was all worked up - and she was definitely worked up.

"What is it about this girl?" She tilted her hand into my touch and I ran my fingers through her hair.

I didn't like the fact that she was obsessed, but it happened to the best of us, right? I mean, the heart wants what the heart wants.

The girl Olivia couldn't stop obsessing about was a transfer student who had arrived in her advanced biology class the Tuesday before.

I had met her during lunch the following day when she had walked past Olivia and I, and Olivia had jumped out of her seat, shouted hello, and then proceeded to awkwardly introduce us.

Ever since, Olivia had been on about Katie non-stop.

And I understood. I mean Katie was exactly what Olivia liked. She had a volleyball player's body - tall and fit with small breasts and a tight little ass. Her brown hair was cut short, with one side shaved close and bangs that looked as sharp as a razor. She was one of those girls you could mistake for a lesbian, but you could also be making a horrible mistake.

But from the first day I had met her, it had been painfully obvious. Katie wasn't hitting for Olivia's team. Kate was into guys. On her second day, we saw her around campus with one of the football players and a crew of his friends.

I had known it right then. You know how you can just tell?

But Olivia didn't care. She fell in love quick.

"I think I'm going to do it." She bit her lip and stared out the windshield like Kate was walking in front of the car, like she was watching her ass move in a tight pair of jeans.

"Do what?" I could tell she wasn't talking about going back upstairs.

"I'm going to bind her." She looked at me with a twinkle in her eye.

I rolled my eyes. "Are you serious?"

Olivia's mom was a pagan, a practicing witch, always had been. It was no big deal. I mean, she didn't have a broom and a long nose. She simply believed in magic, and that all things had energy, and there were a lot of candles in their house.

I remember our mom's sitting around the kitchen table talking about magic and religion when we were six or seven. My mom thought it was interesting, you know, like someone might think anything is interesting.

And maybe that was one of the reasons our sexuality wasn't an issue. Olivia was taught to be open and honest about everything. It was different, but not in a crazy way. My dad always said Olivia's mom was an old hippie. Peace and love. And being her friend, maybe some of that rubbed off on me too.

Over the years, Olivia had adopted more and more of her mother's beliefs. When we were little, she began calling herself a witch. She kept an amulet around her neck and practiced writing "spells". Honestly, I had always just humored her fascination with magic and paganism. It all seemed silly to me, like play pretend. Nothing ever came of it, but I always did whatever Olivia instructed me when it was time to cast a spell or ask for something from the mother earth. I remember once, when we were in junior high, I even helped her with a love spell that didn't work.

And so, it had gone. From the time we had been kids, just running around doing nothing, Olivia had been a witch and I had been her best friend - the witch's assistant.

But I had never really believed in much of anything. My parents hadn't been religious. I think I went to church once when I was a kid, maybe a Christmas. I remember snow.

As far as I was concerned, I had never had a use for gods or devils and I was absolutely positive that magic wasn't real. The idea that my friend believed in it made me happy. She loved magic, the idea of it. But no matter what, in the end, we were best friends.

So, I was used to being a part of Olivia's magic, her beliefs. I didn't understand much of it, most of it seemed silly to me. I mean, how was lighting a blue candle under a full moon, after burning daisy and dropping it in holy water supposed to protect someone on their vacation? But it never stopped me from helping in any way she needed me to even though she knew I didn't believe.

But the look on her face in the car that Tuesday, made me wonder. She had always talked about the things magic could do, but she had never used the word binding before. It sounded serious, and she seemed super serious, like she more determined somehow. I didn't think much of it though, I mean, in all the years we had grown up together, I had never seen anything about magic that made me believe it was real. Not from Olivia or her mother.

"No," Olivia looked over as we started off toward school. "I'm serious."

For some reason, I believed her.

***

That Friday morning, when Olivia came to pick me up for school. I got into the car and almost choked. She was looking good, like really good.

She caught me staring at her tits and laughed out loud. "You like them?"

She was wearing her favorite blue jeans with wide open tears along the knees and frayed pockets along with a black camisole that had a sweeping neckline. It was cleavage for miles.

"New bra?" I hoped my checks weren't as red as they felt.

Olivia already had nice breasts, I had been jealous of her since we were thirteen when she moved to a B cup and I was still stuck in a training bra. "Yeah, actually," she chuckled, and I wondered if there was more to the story.

We stopped at a red light and she pulled the cap off a red marker she grabbed from the console. "Give me your hand," she said, rushed.

I gave it to her and she scribbled a cool little symbol along the underside of my wrist, it was kind of like one of the Irish symbols but different too. It was strange, about the size of a nicotine patch.

"What's this?" I asked as she let go and the light turned green.

"Can you spend the night at my house tonight?"

"Sure," I said. I had a test on Monday, but I figured I would have plenty of time to study on Saturday. I was also in between boyfriends at the time, so there were no extracurricular plans.

"I found a binding spell," she looked over at me and I could tell she was holding something back, like she wanted to ask me something, but she was embarrassed or afraid to talk about it.

I had no idea what could be wrong. I figured she was probably afraid that I wouldn't want to help or something. "What is it?" I asked.

"It's sex magic." She said and stared straight ahead her face serious.

I thought about her words. I looked at the weird symbol she had drawn in permanent marker. It was always an adventure with Olivia. "Sex magic?" I said the words out loud because I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

"Yeah," she nodded.

I waited but she didn't say anything else for like ten seconds. "What does that mean?" I finally asked.

"Remember when we cast that love spell on Becky Fromm when we were little?"

I remembered the night. The weird words she had given me to say over and over again. I remember how afraid she was her mom was going to find us in the garage, sitting in a circle of table salt and burning her black and red candles without permission.

It had been a strange couple of hours, but harmless. Nothing had happened to Becky Fromm. She liked boys. And Olivia had gotten over it and moved on. I don't think we had ever really talked about it after that.

But now I was curious.

I took a long sip of my coffee and stared out the window. "Of course, I remember Becky Fromm."

"Well, it's a little like that."

"Like that but called sex magic?" I emphasized the words.

"Well, it's kind of like that," Olivia shrugged. "I need your help."

I raised my hand when she looked at me. "That's what this is?" I looked down at her chest. The new bra was amazing, her breasts looked bigger, a lot bigger.

"I think you're going to like it," she grinned.

I remembered the last time we had cuddled, exhausted and covered in sweat. The last time we had fucked, I had lost count of the orgasms I had had.

"Of course, I'm here to help." I laughed. "Tell me all about it. Are we going to have sex? Should I wear something sexy?"

Olivia pulled into the school parking lot. "Yes," she said. Then she put the car in park and looked over at me. "I'm serious," she said, "like for real."

"Nothing happened to Becky Fromm," I rolled my eyes and reached for the door handle, smiling.

"This is different. I've been practicing." There was a seriousness in her voice that sent butterflies through my stomach.

We both got out of the car and started for the front door. "Practicing what?" I just wanted to hear her say it again.

"Sex magic," she whispered as a couple of students passed us on the sidewalk. "I can do it. I can't believe you don't believe me," she shook her head.

"I believe you believe?" I didn't know what else to say.

Olivia arched her back showing off what her new bra could do.

I stared down at the cleavage just like the two guys that brushed past us on the sidewalk.

"Wait, I assumed it was a new bra." I reached over and pulled the shoulder strap, so I could see it.

"It is," Olivia giggled and pulled away. "And a little magic."

I looked over and realized that she was serious. Very serious. But class was about to start, and we were both running a little late. I wrapped an arm around her waist and squeezed her close. "Well, I hope so," I gave her a little kiss on the cheek. "See you tonight?"

A few boys moving around us laughed; one whistled.

Olivia smiled, a little embarrassed and turned toward her building.

I wondered about what she had said, about sex magic and it being real. My first reaction had been that it, like every other kind of magic Olivia and her mom had ever talked about, was complete bullshit. Nothing ever happened with their magic, they felt better for practicing it, but that seemed to be about it. I mean, to me it was like any other religion, you felt better because you believed in something bigger than yourself.

Then I got to my first class, picked a seat in the back row, and pulled out my laptop. I probably looked like I was getting ready for class, but that was the opposite of the truth. Had she made her breasts bigger with magic? Is that what she was saying? Why did I believe it or want to?

I looked down at the little symbol she had drawn and remembered the way she had held my wrist while she doodled.

I loved the feel of her hands. Her fingers were so long and thin.

We were going to have sex.

The idea made me smile.

It had been a few weeks since someone else, besides me, had given me an orgasm. And I loved the way Olivia's mouth felt when we sixty-nined.

I clicked on the search bar and typed: sex magic.

I was curious.

The first few tabs were what you would expect, like buy a red candle and say these specific words under a full moon. Stuff I had been doing with Olivia for years. There were a few others that were hawking spells for a few dollars apiece. It all seemed just like I thought, a bunch of nonsense. A fool's game.

I kept researching, flipping through the pages and pages of entries marked sex magic.

It took half the class lecture, but I finally found some interesting things.

One site went had a long explanation on the history of sex magic and how it was like most other magic, how it concentrated on using energy and focused desire to get what you wanted.

Another talked about the power of ejaculate and menstrual blood.

It was all so weird.

I mean, I wanted to believe that it could be real, but it also seemed so ridiculously far-fetched. I mean, magic? Really?

But then, I had never seen Olivia so serious. And her tits were definitely bigger. Like overnight.

Then I thought of the relationship Olivia and I had, how close we were. How we had discovered our bodies together, how we had casual sex whenever one of us needed to blow off some steam or got all worked-up over someone.

It was strange, but maybe that was a kind of magic. Maybe the way we were connected, almost like sisters, was a bit of magic.

I remembered the last time we had been together.

It had been earlier in the school year. We had gone out to see a movie together, a romcom with a hunky lead.

Then we had gone for dinner and a bottle of wine. Then she had come up to my place because she had wanted to borrow a black dress for a work thing. And then I had opened another bottle. And we had sat down and drank and then we had laughed and told old stories like we always did, remembering our lives together.

And then, I remember, Olivia had leaned back and said her pussy was wet.

And that had been enough.

The next thing I knew, I was buried in her glistening lips and with her tongue buried in mine.

I looked up from my laptop just as the teacher was writing next week's assignment on the whiteboard. My heart was racing; the memory had gotten me all excited. I ran a hand across my forehead.

I saw the little doodle on my wrist. What was that thing?

My head felt hot.

I reached down and grabbed the water bottle out of my bag. I couldn't figure it out. I felt like I had just been making out. Like I had just been mashing up against something hard and satisfying.

The water was cold, and I gulped it down. What had happened?

Students started to get up and make their out of the room. Grabbing my bag, I started to follow.

My pussy was soaked. The wet spot on my Batgirl underwear was cold.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

I was hot, like crazy horny hot. My eyes were glued to the ass of the guy walking in front of me. I watched the seams along the edges of his pockets move. He had a tight ass, all muscle, and every step I could see the dimples move under the denim.

His shoulders were broad too, his whole upper body was square like a swimmer's physique.

I liked to fuck boys and girls, but I like my boys strong, really strong. I liked to feel tiny in their arms.

More warmth moved through me.

Whoever the guy in front of me was, turned off to the right and my next class was to the left, so I let him go with a little frown.

It didn't make sense how turned on I was. It was like I was on fire. My pussy ached to be touched. My nipples were as stiff as stones, rubbed against my blouse and I had to bite my lower lip and take a breath to keep from letting go.

It had gotten on top of me. I was losing control. I had to orgasm.

I looked around for a bathroom.

It didn't matter what was happening anymore. My pussy demanded attention. My clit felt like it was on fire.

I stepped through the door, ignored the two women standing at the mirror and began looking for a stall with no visible feet.

I took the one on the end.

I took a breath as I latched the door.

My body spasmed, my knees locked, and a wave of bliss moved through me.

I held onto the top of the door as my whole body shivered like I had been splashed with a bucket of ice water. It was intense.

With my eyes clenched shut, I tried to relax.

I wasn't panicked, but I was close. I reached down, unbuttoned, my jeans and shimmied everything to my ankles.

A warm bead of my love juice tickled me as it rolled down my inner thigh.

I sat down and looked between my legs.

Again, I noticed the scribble again, the red lines interwoven like a complicated knot.

My cunt was swollen, my pussy lips glistened, and I could see my clit, engorged and begging to be touched.

I ran my hands over my mound, then slid in a finger up and down my crease.

I caressed the outside. My wet fingers moving around my button sent shockwaves pleasure through me.

I held my breath and dipped inside before bringing the juices back to my little button.

My toes curled against my shoes and I pulled my knees back and spread my legs wide.

I rocked my hips forward, my fingers dipped inside again. I curled my fingers and found the most sensitive part of me.

I melted and then began to fuck my fingers.

Full and empty, full and empty, I stretched around my own fingers until I gasped and froze.

My body tightened as a wave of pleasure rose from my stomach and seemed to wash over my chest and then down to my toes.

My vagina pulsed and squeezed my fingers.

And then it was over.

I took a breath.

"You alright in there?"

I looked up. The door was still locked.

But I saw someone standing near the door. The woman's shoes started across the floor, closer to me.

"Yeah," I sighed, "sorry, long day already."

"Sounds like it." The shoes stopped, turned around, and started back toward the door.

I rubbed my eyes. I must have completely gone blank while I came. Did I moan? I felt like there was a real chance I had been moaning.

Oh, god, what other sounds did I make?

I slipped my fingers into my mouth and wiped my tongue along them.

It was over. Whatever it was, it had passed like thunderstorm.

But what was happening to me?

I had never experienced such raw desire, such sudden and undeniable need.

Did this have something to do with Olivia? How? What the fuck was wrong with me?

I got to Olivia's house around 7. Dad dropped me off at the end of the driveway and I stared up at the house like it was the first time I had ever been there. Before I took two steps, Olivia opened the door in a bathrobe and her long, dark hair wrapped in a bath towel on top of her head. "I thought you were never going to get here," she said as she opened the door for me.

"I had a bunch of stuff to do." I slipped past her and looked around for her mom. The place was oddly quiet. "Where's your mom?"

"She's at a conference in Chicago."

The door clicked closed behind me. No mom, meant we were alone. That's why she had been so adamant and excited.

"See, I already started," Olivia held out her arms. On the underside of both were ten or twenty of the strange shapes like she had drawn on me. And they were all different but connected.

I stared at the symbols. To me they were meaningless. I mean they were just strange symbols or diagrams or something. It looked like Olivia had been doodling on herself all day.

"What do they mean?" I sat my bag down.

"Spells," she laughed, "you can't read them, yet." She leaned forward and kissed me.

It was just a peck on the lips, quick, but her lips were soft and hot. I couldn't help it, I instantly reacted.