The Assassin and the Sorceress Ch. 08

Well, not completely. In order for me to see, my eyes needed to be able to interact with light normally. However, I didn't think a dim pair of eyes would be particularly easy to notice in the dead of night.

As it turned out, being invisible took some serious getting used to. Not being able to see where I put my own hands is more disorienting than I was prepared for. Thankfully, floating in the air didn't require me to touch much of anything.

Outside their bedroom window, I looked in. It was illuminated by dim candlelight, but that was more than enough to see what I wanted. Joseph and his wife were in there, but their love life didn't seem to have died as I had suspected. They laughed and joked, clearly still infatuated with each other. Their energetic banter soon turned to kissing, hugging, caressing, and more. A few items of clothing started coming off. Bitter jealousy rose up deep in my chest. But instead of leaving and saving myself that pain, I continued to watch.

Before long, they did something that surprised me. Instead of laying down on the bed together as I imagined a man would do with his wife, Joseph knelt down on the floor in front of her. Rebecca peeled off her stockings.

"I just washed them," I heard her say, alluringly. Rebecca held onto the bedpost while she pulled up her skirt with the other and lifted her right foot into the air for Joseph to inspect. Joseph, shirtless and now dressed only in his trousers, caressed her foot, then ran his hands up her slender calf. His hands went back down to her foot and began massaging. He kissed the arch of her foot, then planted a second on her ankle, followed by a third, fourth, and fifth up the front of her shin. Next, he returned to the arch of her foot, extended his tongue, and ran it slowly up the same path the kisses had taken, stopping just below her knee. He returned to her foot a third time, but this time remained there. A kiss on each of her toes, followed by licking each of the gaps between them. Soon, he was sucking on them.

The look on my face must have been quizzical, if my face could have been said to have looks at that time. But at least curiosity had begun to replace that cold, bitter jealousy. Joseph's interests, while curious, did absolutely nothing for me. Of course, I was in no position to judge.

Joseph continued to suck and lick Rebecca's foot, of all things. As he went on, he grew more vigorous and was clearly becoming aroused. He breathed deeply and desperately. He could barely sit still. There was a bulge in his pants I could clearly see even in his kneeling position.

All the while, Rebecca looked on, not necessarily aroused, but certainly intrigued at her husband's fascination with her body. It made me think of Matthew losing himself at the sight of my vagina. Sometimes a woman does enjoy being admired.

Eventually, Joseph broke his attention on his wife's feet long enough to look up into her eyes. They smiled at each other like only lovers from a story would. "My turn now," she whispered with a grin.

"Of course, my love!" He got up and laid down on the bed, arms crossed above his head. Rebecca knelt down beside him and laid her head down on his bare chest. She wrapped her arms around him, inhaled deeply as if losing herself in his scent, and rubbed her face against his body like a cat showing affection. In a minute she switched to sucking and nibbling on his nipples. Personally, I had never considered male nipples all that interesting compared to female nipples, but Rebecca seemed to disagree with me. Joseph seemed to be enjoying the attention as well.

The rest of the night held few additional surprises for me. Once both of them were as horny as they could bear, Rebecca pulled off Joseph's pants and began licking and sucking on his penis in a similar fashion as he had done to her feet.

"Wait! Wait!" Joseph pleaded after a few minutes. "No more. Not yet."

Rebecca, who had removed the rest of her clothes by now, took his spot on the bed, while he buried his head between her thighs and returned the same favor. Whereas Matthew or Gaius might have stroked my thighs or reached up to fondle my breasts while doing the same, Joseph reached downward and played with Rebecca's feet. It looked like an awkward position, but he managed to pull it off as if he was well-practiced.

Joseph must have read her body perfectly. I don't know if it was her breathing, or her writhing, or her moaning, but after he finally decided to push himself up on top of her to take her as Adam took Eve, it was barely a minute before both of them were groaning in orgasm. At the absolute peak, Joseph reared his head back.

"I... I... I... Isaac!" He screamed, just before gasping and falling limp on top of her.

"Wait! Stay inside me another minute! Almost done!"

Joseph complied. Rebecca slipped a single hand down between their bodies, and with a few strokes of her finger, finished herself off as Joseph slowly grew flaccid inside her. Once she had stopped writhing around and lay there panting, Joseph finally rolled off her as a string of semen stretched between their parting nethers. When is snapped, it left a wet line across the blanket, running between them.

Once Rebecca had caught her breath, she got up on one elbow and faced him. "Isaac? Who in the world is Isaac?"

"That's... who I just... shot into you," he gasped, grinning at her sweetly.

Rebecca smiled broadly, then planted a kiss firmly on her husband's lips. "But, what if it's a girl?"

"Well, then I guess we'll have to pick a different name," he answered with a humble shrug.

"What about Bethany? It means 'house of song' in Hebrew."

"Another good biblical name. I love it!" He kissed her again. They shared several more kisses until I couldn't bear it anymore.

So much for wallowing in schadenfreude at their failing marriage. I was nearly sick to my stomach with jealousy of the love they felt for each other. But the jealousy I felt right then wasn't the bittersweet longing I felt after Joseph had first denied my love. This jealousy was sharp and cold, like a dagger in my gut. How could such a shrew, who spat and cursed at me any chance she got, have won his affections? This was an affront to justice! I hated both of them for it.

Before I could think better of it, I looked at Rebecca's flesh through the Oculus. I recalled what I had done to Orson. But this time I gave her a special gift. What I had did to her would manifest into painful lesions around her crotch. I also put a few tiny scratches inside her urethra which should have burned painfully the next time she peed. The markings she would get, assuming I did it correctly, would mimic what I had read about the early stages of syphilis. We would see how that affects their happy marriage!

That would have been the third offensive use of my magic powers.

That was all I could stomach of them, so I left them behind. I floated silently until I was just out of sight of their bedroom window, then lowered myself to the ground. Once my feet touched the ground, I took a good look around to make sure nobody was watching, and made myself visible again. I thought about returning home, but I was absolutely fuming, so I decided to take the long way to walk it off.

To help take my mind off the cause of my anguish, I forced myself to think about what I had seen before it had turned to sappy sweetness, loving kisses, and baby names. I though about Joseph's unusual fascination with his wife's feet. While the activity itself intrigued me not in the least, the fact that he could enjoy something like that in the first place made me curious. It reminded me of my own odd fascination with getting my bare flesh stuck to solid objects. It seemed I wasn't the only one with a kink. Did some event in Joseph's life cause him to love a woman's feet as most man love the breasts or vulva, or did his tastes just develop that way by chance?

When Joseph had lain with me, why hadn't he wanted to play with my feet? Were my feet not to his liking, or that I had left my stockings on? Or maybe he didn't trust me enough to admit to his secret. Or had he not developed that kink yet? No, probably none of those. More than likely, that night hadn't been about his needs. I had been the one in need that night, and so it was my needs he had seen to. So attentive... so caring... What I wouldn't have given for Gaius, or even Matthew, to hold my desires so high above even their own.

No! That course of thought would avail nothing but more sorrow. I forced myself to return to the mystery of these strange sexual fascinations. Yes, Joseph and I both had unconventional desires. Were there more like us in Ash, and what specific desires might people have? Why, human sexuality could be as diverse as the feathers on birds! But all of human knowledge might never acquire this truth, because I imagined most people would rather take their sexual perversions to the grave than risk being exposed as a deviant. What if the majority of people to walk the earth lived their entire lives falsely believing themselves to be freaks? What if 'deviance' was in fact a normal part of the human condition? I had to find the truth! It was a matter of scientific discovery!

...

The next morning Magdalene knocked on my door. For a split second I tensed up as I saw her, wondering what else she meant to say to be. We had avoided each other in the fields most of the day before. But as soon as I saw her expression, I eased up. She looked repentant. I smiled at her, letting her know I was happy to keep her as a friend.

"Morgana, I'm sorry for how I acted the other day. What I said, I didn't mean it. You know I'm concerned for my brother, but what you were trying to say was right. I thought about it, and you're right. My father and I shelter him. Maybe if we treated him like the young man he is, he might just rise to the challenge."

"That's fine. Apology accepted!"

"I'm glad to hear it! I felt so bad! My father told me one that having your heart broken once or twice may hurt, but it makes you wiser in the ways of love."

"Funny, mine said something to almost the same effect."

"Well, I can see why they are friends. But anyway, maybe having his heart broken might be a valuable lesson for him. After all, you've been perfectly honest about your intentions with him. He's the one who's been lying to himself, not you. As long as you continue being completely honest with him, there's really nothing I can be angry at you for."

Magdalene and I spoke for a bit longer, though we quickly switched to more pleasant topics, having thoroughly covered her apology. We walked to the fields together that day. It was nice to have a friend like her!

...

A very sad state of being human is that once you have committed a regrettable act, it gets easier and easier to keep committing it, just as drinking an entire bottle of wine gets easier after every glass. The first glass requires you pop the cork, while any subsequent glasses only require you to pour. As to morally ambiguous deeds, you may feel guilty after doing it the first time, but often the self-imposed shame of doing something you thought was wrong is too weak of a force to counter the encouragement of having gotten away with it.

I was no exception. Joseph and Rebecca never caught me spying on them. While I knew spying on people in their homes was wrong, even despite the mystery I intended to solve, it seemed less wrong the second time I did it, and by the fourth or fifth time, I felt no more guilt at all. I stopped making those feeble promises to myself to stop doing it, and finally accepted this as a new hobby.

I was very curious. I had to know what people did when they thought nobody was looking. I was seeing truths about humanity that no human was meant to see. I learned that I was far from the only one with strange desires. It made me feel like less of a freak to see that others could also harbor shameful secrets. Joseph's foot fetish was mundane compared to a few things I saw. I saw a man who liked his wife to choke him while she made love to him, there was a girl who enjoyed licking the floor and walls of her cottage, there was a man who dug his little finger into his navel while he masturbated with the other hand. I saw a woman beg her husband to let her lick his eyeball, which he eventually agreed to, and seemingly not for the first time. He must have really loved her. I could go on. Few of these things excited me by themselves, but knowing their secrets made me feel powerful. I didn't judge them. In fact, I respected them for it.

But I also pitied them. These people seemed to harbor odd desires that, while mostly harmless, would surely bring great shame on them if they ever admitted to it. More than likely they also felt a great deal of guilt for being as they were, even though I doubted it had been their fault they turned out the way they did. I had no say in being attracted to other women as well as men, and my more recent fascination had also been a complete accident. I tried to imagine a world where people could freely show their true selves without being branded as deviants or perverts.

Then there came the night I decided to spy on Esther. Up until then, I had left my new friends out of my nighttime escapades. I respected their privacy, I suppose, in return for giving me the priceless gift of their friendship. But as my voyeurism started to seem less and less wrong, even that moral barrier vanished without a trace.

Esther had a first-floor room. Her room, however, faced away from the other buildings of Ash. There were no other windows across from hers, and no travelers out that way to see into her room, so she didn't bother to close the shutters on this unseasonably warm night.

When I found Esther, she was lying on her back with her nightgown up above her waist. She looked so good with her shaven vulva on full display. She was good at shaving, too. There were no cuts or stubble to be seen, and all this without the benefit of magic! I never found out what her technique was.

She was casually running her fingers over her barren labia, massaging that soft, sensuous flesh. She let the tip of her middle finger disappear into that adorable slit of hers and began to work at her clitoris. But her finger only stayed a moment. She was just teasing herself. She pulled her finger out again and continued to tickle the shaven outermost skin.

After a minute, she sat up. She knelt on top of her bed with her knees spread wide. She seemed to be rubbing her bare vagina on her mattress, enjoying the gentle tickle of the fabric on her private parts. After a minute, she must have decided she needed a stronger touch, so she scooted to the edge of her mattress, let one leg fall to the floor, and started rubbing herself against the corner of her mattress. I watched, fascinated, as the strong muscles in her butt flexed and relaxed in rhythm to her thrusting hips.

In time, she must have decided she needed something even firmer than that. She got up and walked over to the bedpost at the corner of her bed closest to me. This bedpost ended in a smooth, wooden sphere which, incidentally, came up almost perfectly to the height of her crotch.

She was facing me now. Startled, I drifted backward, away from her window. It didn't matter. She was far too engrossed in her activity to notice a pale set of eyes watching her from the darkness. I returned to my vantage as silently as the wind and continued observing.

Esther propped her left knee on top of her mattress while keeping her right on the floor. Straddling the bedpost, she brought her crotch to the wooden sphere and began thrusting and grinding against it. Tired of holding up her nightgown, she lifted it up and over her head, tossing it aside, having no further use for it. While she pressed her vulva against the bedpost, her two hands caressed and explored the front of her torso, sliding up her trim belly, up her ribcage, over the swells of her breasts and to her shoulders, then back down again. She had a look of pure satisfaction on her face! While some people, most particularly women, seemed to be ashamed of the act of masturbation, Esther was perfectly comfortable enjoying her sexuality by herself. Maybe the two of us had more in common than I thought.

An idea occurred to me. A devilish one! If a frighteningly memorable event had caused me to develop my kink, could it be repeated in another person? But should I? I had already used my powers enough, possibly too much. The last thing I wanted was to be found out. But Esther had no idea I was there, and no other reason to suspect me. I had to do it. I just had to.

Suddenly, Esther's eyes shot open as she gasped in surprise! Those beautiful, plump outer lips of hers had clung fast to the bedpost for, as far as she could tell, absolutely no reason whatsoever! She tried to pull herself away from the bedpost. Her lips stretched out taut as she struggled, but she couldn't pull them free! The sight of it got me wet! She sucked in her stomach and bent over to get a better look at what was going on. She gave a few more tugs, watching her lips stretch with each pull, but they remain stuck fast.

Her mouth fell open. "What... the... fuck?" she muttered under her breath. I could hear utter confusion and just a touch of fright in her voice.

She brought her hands to her crotch and pinched her lips in her fingers. She worked at them and tried to peel her skin away from the hardwood. She worked at her flesh for a minute or two, but her stuck lips just wouldn't budge! All of her efforts having proved futile, Ester became visibly frightened! Her breathing quickened into short, noisy gasps. Occasionally, a soft whimper escaped her lips. Esther froze for a few moments, unsure of what was happening or what to do, only staring down at her mysterious predicament.

After a minute, she came out of her daze and decided to try tugging again. She gave a few good yanks, stretching her lips so wonderfully, such an amazing show for me! After five or six attempts to free herself, she gave up on that. She turned her head toward her locked bedroom door and gazed at it for a minute. Her mouth opened a few times, as if words were forming in her mind, but not coming out just yet. She must have been considering calling to her family for help.

'Don't call for your parents,' I pleaded to her silently in my head. If she had started calling for help, I would have released her right then. That was more embarrassment than Esther deserved. Thankfully, she seemed to be of the same mind and decided against letting her family see her like this just yet. And so, she continued tugging.

I decided she might need a little help enjoying this. I had studied my own flesh through the lens of the Oculus while I masturbated, trying to discover what made orgasms happen. To help her get into the mood, I made some subtle changes to the nerves in her flesh, making them more sensitive. Each time her lips were pulled on, it would stimulate her clitoris. For good measure, I added a few chemicals to her blood I had found the body would naturally produce during arousal.

Esther continued to struggle. Soon, she seemed to get the idea that all of her tugging and pulling wasn't hurting her, and she dared to pull harder. Trying to gauge the tolerance of her flesh to this abuse, she pulled back and held it. Gradually, she added more strength to her pull, until she was pulling quite hard. Her lips were stretched so far now! Maybe not as far as my own labia stretched when I had done this to myself, but it was an incredible sight for me all the same!

She pulled until she grimaced in pain. Even with my enchantment protecting her flesh from injury, the stretched-out nerves in her flesh would certainly have registered some pain. But when she released her pull, there was another gasp of surprise, followed by a sigh that sounded rather sexual. As her lips had relaxed back to their normal length and the pain she had been enduring subsided, she must have suddenly noticed the pleasure that had been building up around that abused flesh.