The Magic Corset

We were cosy, almost a normal couple, sitting together watching TV over lunch, but my legs were open and my breasts very much on display, and I was very aware that this was the one room that we hadn't done anything in yet. And Bob had had plenty of time to recover - not that he had seemed to need much. He was wearing only a blue woollen bath robe, but I couldn't see whether he was aroused. I tried to watch the TV, but thinking about Bob's arousal and what was sure to happen was getting me aroused again. I tried to fight it, to think more sober thoughts, to think about all the work I needed to do at the office - if I ever got back there - but it was a losing battle, not at all helped by Bob's fingers idly caressing my sensitive thighs. My breasts swelled in search of a mouth, and my nipples hardened in need of teeth, and an urgent itch developed between my thighs hungry for a good scratching.

He didn't make me suffer like that for long. He stood me up with my legs parted, then bent me over and pulled my arms behind my back. Kneeling behind me, he licked and sucked at my already wet pussy and clit for a few minutes, before kissing his way up to the tight entrance he had enjoyed so much during the night. I shivered with pleasure as his tongue pushed through the little ring of muscle, stretching me deliciously.

Bob took his time exploring me with his tongue, then delving deeper with a finger, two fingers, three fingers, until I wondered if he would try to push his whole hand inside me, but three fingers satisfied him and he withdrew, leaving me frustratingly empty as he went to fetch the lube from the bedroom. He was back quickly, and he was naked and very erect. He grabbed me painfully by the hair and thrust his thick, hard cock into my mouth, and fucked my throat slowly until I was sure he was about to come, but he pulled out and walked round me. With two fingers he pushed lube into and all around my ass, then positioned himself for entry and forced his way in.

"Oh yes," he sighed as his cock pushed through the initial resistance and into the depths of my ass. I would have cried out too if I could, welcoming the exquisite pain and wonder of being stretched so wide, of feeling so full of his cock, of having my whole existence once again concentrated on that penetration of me. I loved this, couldn't get enough of it. I needed him fucking me harder and deeper until there was nothing left of me.

He fucked me hard, and deep, and fast, panting as he thrust, and feel of his thick cock sliding through the tight ring of my ass wound me tighter and tighter, so that when he grabbed my hips and drove deeper than ever, his cock hardening gloriously inside me, I was ready to come, and we came together. His pulsing length, and his cum spurting into me, felt fantastic inside my clenching ass.

"That has to be the sickest thing I've ever seen," a voice said - a woman's voice - sending a shock of terror through me.

Bob recoiled out of me. "Becca!" he screeched. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Isn't that my question?" she said. I could hear laughter in her voice. "I was going to go quietly, leave you alone with your new girlfriend, but then I realised she's a doll, isn't she?"

"Becca!" Bob whined pleadingly. He had grabbed a towel from somewhere and was wrapping it around his waist. He didn't seem to care that Becca had a clear view of my freshly fucked and possibly gaping ass. I could feel Bob's cum starting to leak, and couldn't think of a more embarrassing scenario.

"I can't believe you bought yourself a sex doll," Becca said. "And it looks expensive. Almost real."

"It is real," he said. "She is real."

"I'm sure she is for you. I can't believe my brother's such a pervert."

"She is a real woman, Becca. Touch her. Look at her eyes. She's paralysed."

"Yeah, right," she said, but I could see her shoes - black trainers - as she walked around me for a closer look. Her fingers played with my hair, and ran delicately along my upper spine, and then she knelt down to peer up at my face. She screamed when she saw me looking back at her, but recovered quickly. "I'm sorry," she said.

Despite the strangeness of our meeting, I liked her instantly. She was pretty without being beautiful, and seemed nice, and as the guilt and shock cleared from her expression she studied me with a hungry curiosity that I found quite exciting. Her eyes were drawn to my breasts that hung close to her head, and I hoped she would touch them, perhaps kiss them.

For the first time in my life I was attracted to a woman. I've got nothing against lesbians, but it's not something I've had any interest in - until Becca. I wondered what it would be like to kiss her, to hold her breasts in my hands and tease her nipples. I wondered what it would be like if she were dressed in my magic corset and I could play with her the way her brother played with me.

I couldn't move. She pulled away and stood up. "Your girlfriend is paralysed, and instead of rushing her to the hospital you keep her here so you can fuck her ass?"

"I offered to take her, but she wanted to stay. I don't think it's a medical condition - I think she's under a spell. I think I am too."

Becca snorted. "Don't be absurd. And how can she consent to anything if she's paralysed?"

"Her eyes. One blink yes, two blinks no."

Becca bent down and peered up at me again. "Shall I take you to the hospital?

I blinked twice: no.

She seemed surprised - as much, I think, with getting any answer at all as with the answer itself. "You're happy with the way my brother's treating you?"

One blink: yes.

She started to go again, then hesitated. "Do you want me to leave you alone with him?"

I blinked twice, but it was inadequate. I blinked twice again, and then a third time.

Becca frowned. "You'd like me to stay?"

Yes.

"Because of Bob?" Which is how I finally learnt his name.

No.

She sighed, startled. "Because you like me?"

Yes.

Relief washed through her, and she smiled in a way that made me dizzy. She crawled away again. "Can we sit her down or something? I can't talk to her like this."

"I suppose," Bob said, and he pulled me around and lowered me onto the sofa, positioning my arms and legs to look more natural. "Why are you here, Becca?" he said, almost growling.

"I had no idea until just now," she said. "Since yesterday afternoon I've had this inexplicable desire to be here. It distracted me all last night, pissing off my girlfriend, and my sleep was restless. This morning I drove two hundred miles to get here. I phoned several times but you weren't answering - which isn't very nice on New Year's Day, by the way. I came into the flat and saw you fucking her, and still had absolutely no idea what the fuck I was doing here. But it's her. She's the reason. And what is her name anyway?"

"I have no idea. The paralysis set in before I had a chance to ask her."

"And when it did, you decided to keep her here..."

"I did ask her..."

Becca was studying me again, the possessive hunger in her eyes as fierce as her brother's. "I'm not judging you. I think I would have done the same." She sat down on the sofa next to me, her breath warm against my neck, her fingers teasing circles about my areolae. "Do you like this?" she whispered.

Yes, I blinked, and she kissed my cheek, almost biting it. I wanted her to bite properly, to mark me as hers.

"Leave her alone," Bob hissed. "She's mine. Fuck off back to your own girlfriend."

Becca laughed. "Actually, I think she's ours - yours and mine. I think you were right about it being a spell. Do you remember the party last New Year at Uncle Fred's?"

Bob's face lit up with revelation. "We found that love spell."

Becca moved her fingers to my crotch and started teasing me there, light touches that awoke my hunger but did nothing to alleviate it. "No one believes in magic these days," she said to me, "so a love spell looks like a daft poem and nothing more, but every so often some idiot tries one out and, by chance, gets it right. Or perhaps nearly right.

"Tell me, brother. You were staying with me that night, complaining about your miserable love life, and I'm sure I remember you joking about that love spell." Her fingers started gliding over my clit with a precision that no man's fingers could ever achieve. "You did it, didn't you?"

"Yes," he muttered, glowering at his sister's busy fingers.

"Did you mix my hair with yours? No - wait. I know. You stole one of my necklaces, didn't you?" Bob's expression was confirmation enough.

Becca sighed, and turned to me again. "Let me tell you the spell that has made you our helpless sex slave." In a loud dramatic voice, she intoned:

"Take some hair wound tight with gold

And cast into the deepest sea

To snare a heart and body hold

Enflamed for all eternity

"Then speak these words to call that fair

Submissive and seductive mate

A perfect love for two to share

Their passions fuel and hungers sate."

She chuckled. "A perfect love for two to share. I always thought that a strange line, but you are the perfect love, fair, submissive and very seductive, and it is my brother and I who get to share you." Whispering in my ear, she added, "Though I would rather have you for myself."

I could hold back no longer and gave into the crashing release of an orgasm as she continued to work my clit steadily.

"I cast the spell," Bob shouted. "She's mine, not yours."

"But you used my gold to bind her, which makes her as much mine as yours. And I bet you didn't cast it into the deepest sea. Where did you throw it?"

Bob scowled. "Into the bay. It was just a stupid love spell. I didn't think it would work."

"But you were still willing to sacrifice my jewellery for your fantasy of a happily ever after. You can't get rid of me, Bob. I'm as much trapped by her as you are."

"I can get rid of you," he hissed. Grabbing her wrist, he dragged her from the sofa, knocking over the table with the remains of lunch, sending the cutlery clattering onto the floor. No, I wanted to say, let her stay.

She threw herself at him, screaming, "Bastard! She's mine!" No! I screamed silently, I belong to both of you!

Bob fell backwards, hitting his head against the wall, but didn't let go of her. "You bitch!" he wailed. "She's mine!" Stop, I begged, unheard.

Becca searched for a weapon and found the knife, and with a scream of rage she plunged it into her brother's chest. I stared in speechless horror.

He grabbed her neck with bloody hands, snarling furiously as he squeezed tightly, ignoring the hands that battered him and scratched at his face, until his sister's body was lifeless in his hands.

And I screamed, the sound of it shocking me as much as the sudden storm of pins and needles that assaulted my whole body, and all I could do was lie there whimpering for a minute until the sensation eased enough for me to crawl over to where Bob lay gasping and crying next to Becca. There was blood on his lips, in his mouth. He needed a doctor badly. "Where's the phone?" I asked.

"Too late for me," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for any of this." He smiled suddenly. "It was fun, though. Thank you, whoever you are..."

"My name is Amy," I said - but he was already gone.

*

I didn't hang about at Bob's flat. I grabbed my coat and stuff and walked home, and sent in an anonymous tip from a safe distance. The police investigation was short and without suspicion of third party involvement. It was concluded to be a strange tragedy of brother and sister killing each other for reasons unknown.

Part of me still belongs to them. I used to dream about my husband, but these days it is always Bob or Becca, or both, and in my dreams I am paralysed again, helpless as they use me for hours. I often wake in sheets that are soaked from the pleasure they have given me during the night. On the rare occasion that I have brought a lover home, he has complained that I was masturbating in my sleep all through the night.

Becca's death undid the paralysis, but even with both siblings dead the spell isn't undone completely. The corset, stockings, gloves and boots have stayed magically fixed to me, and there are moments when I become posable again. As the year has gone by the frequency and duration of these moments have increased, and I have been posable for most of December now. It doesn't bother me, but does make me wonder if it's all building up to something.

It's New Year's Eve again. I wonder if tonight I will be a sex doll, helplessly sating my owners' lusts - and loving every minute of it. If so, I truly hope they will be able to share me peacefully, for then it truly will be a happy new year.