The Secret Book of Spells

I handed him the book and said, "I don't have a key either, so you'll have to pick the lock."

"So you haven't actually read the book?" he asked.

"I can't read German," I answered, continuing to play dumb. "Didn't think it was worth breaking it trying to get it open."

I then tried to smile and look as dumb as possible. "I can count, however," I said. "Do you have my money?"

"Right here," he replied and handed me a small canvas duffle.

"Do I need to count it?" I asked.

"I assure you all fifty thousand is there," he replied.

"Thank you," I bubbled and pumped his hand up and down in an overactive show of thanks.

"You could do one more thing for me," I said very quietly as the heat flowed down through my arms. "You can erase everything you have on me and change all the names so I'm not connected with this in any way. And then forget that you ever saw me."

I released his hand and continued smiling at him and saying, "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

I gave him one last "Thank you" as I went out the door. A few minutes later I was headed north on the I-5. I exited east on the Sierra Highway and headed over to the I-15 to Vegas. Four hours later I was checking in at The Mirage.

I paid cash for three nights. They were a little surprised that my only luggage was a small canvas bag, but I told them I planned to buy what I needed as I went along. They looked at me a little suspiciously until I dropped another three grand on the counter and told them to apply it to my account against future purchases. That seemed to smooth everything over, but cash usually has that effect wherever you go.

A bellhop rushed forward to escort me to my room. He seemed confused that there was no luggage to carry, but he wasn't about to miss out on the opportunity for a good tip from some rube who was flashing a lot of cash. I let him show me to my room and gave him twenty for his efforts. I waited a moment and then said, "Is that enough?" I reached back into my pocket and said, "If my dream is right, I'll be rich tomorrow. If I'm wrong it will all be gone anyway." Then I handed him another twenty. I wanted him to remember me and to remember that I was some hick doing something crazy.

I slept all afternoon and then watched the news and some game shows on TV. Around 9:00, I went down to the restaurant. I think I've had better steak, but I really shouldn't judge the place by that experience. It could have just as easily have been my nerves affecting how the steak tasted. I dawdled over my meal until 10:30, then left a huge tip to make it up to the waiter and servers. I walked into the casino at exactly 11:00. It was show time.

I carried my little canvas bag up to the teller cage and asked for $35,000 in thousands. A few moment later I walked away with 35 yellow chips with the Mirage name and logo in the middle. I wandered over to the roulette table and stood watching for several minutes. After standing there for several rounds, the croupier looked over at me and said, "You gonna place a bet?"

I tried to look as confused as possible and asked, "The payout if I guess the right number is 35 to 1, right?"

He laughed and said, "Yes, the payout on a straight bet is 35 to 1. Make sure your dollar chip is in the very middle of the square."

I loved the look on his face as I carefully placed the thousand dollar yellow chip on number 24.

"Seventeen Black," cried the croupier as he pulled the losing chips– including mine off the table.

I placed another yellow chip on 24.

"Twenty-Three Red," he cried and again pulled my chip into his trough.

There are 37 numbers on the wheel, if you count zero and double zero, but the payout is only 35 to 1. That means that the odds are slightly stacked in the house's favor. If you play long enough, you will lose everything. That is the reality of roulette. The fact that I had $35,000 and was betting $1,000 each time would cause most watchers, like those who monitored the ceiling cameras, to think that I was playing the odds and hoping that 24 would come up at least once before I went bust. They have a name for that system in Las Vegas... it's called, "Stupid."

As the croupier carefully whisked my thirty-fourth chip off the table, I casually reached down and touched my left ring finger. Then I placed my final chip on number 24.

The croupier spun the wheel and dropped the ball. I don't think I breathed at all as it clattered and bounced its way around the wheel. Finally it came to rest.

"Twenty-Four Black," yelled the croupier and pushed a new stack of 35 yellow chips over to me.

I set them on top of the one I had already bet and said, "Let it ride."

"Are you sure?" the croupier asked, looking up at the bank of camera ports that surrounded the table.

"Yes," I answered, trying to look very scared and nervous. Actually, that wasn't much of a stretch at this point.

I noticed that he pressed a button of some sort on the side of the table before he gave the wheel a spin. I had no doubts that a light or buzzer alerted the security room to a very high stakes wager.

He spun the wheel and dropped the ball. It seemed to clatter and bounce forever before it finally settled on black 24.

His voice wasn't quite the same as he announced, "Twenty-Four Black."

Two men in dark suits appeared just behind me on either side. "That's one point two six million," the croupier said. "Someone from the cage will have to arrange payment."

"That's OK," I said. "I will probably have to arrange for a wire transfer anyway."

As I reached down to pick up my stack of chips, the larger of the two men stepped up to me and said, "Would you mind accompanying us to the security office, sir?"

"Why?" I asked.

"It's normal procedure when there is such an unusual win." He waived his hand and added, "... just a formality." The formality included walking through a metal detector and having a hand wand run up and down my legs.

"I knew that my number should come up before I ran out of money," I said as sincerely as I could. "Then when it did on my last chip, I just couldn't control myself and told him to let it ride." I started giggling slightly. "I really don't know why I did that." I clapped my hands together trying to imitate Dr. Michelson. "I can't believe it came up twice."

"Yeah," the man behind the desk said, "neither could we." Then he smiled at me and said, "But it is obvious that you don't have anything on you that would affect the wheel. And neither you nor anyone near the table comes up in our database." I was sure I would in the future.

He walked around the desk and held out his hand. "I would like to personally congratulate one very lucky man." He shook my hand and asked, "How would you like your winnings?"

"I'd like the chips I had on the table back in cash," I answered. Then I pulled my checkbook out of my pocket and said, "The rest I would like wire-transferred to this account. I will deal with it later."

"You do realize," he told me, now sounding very much like a father giving his son advice, "that we are talking about over one million dollars... less taxes." He chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. "We need your social security number to properly credit Uncle Sam's share."

"No problem," I said. About ten minutes later, I was walking back down the hallway to my room with 350 brand new Benjamins in my little canvas bag.

As I was opening the door, I was thinking,'All I need to make this a perfect day is a beautiful blond who wants to have fantastic sex with me.'

That's when someone shoved me from behind and pushed me into the room and onto the floor.

I landed on my stomach with a loud "umph" and immediately rolled onto my back preparing to defend myself.

Whoever it was had fallen with me and was lying on top of me. Our faces were just inches apart. It was Nurse Murphy.

I tried to bring my hands up in front of my face, but she pushed them aside easily and leaned in and... planted a wet, sloppy kiss right on my lips. "God! I am so happy to see you!" she grunted as she reached around behind my head and pulled my face back against her own.

"Glad to see you, too, Nurse Murphy," I grunted back. I found myself thinking,'I wish I could see more of you,' and suddenly her clothing was on the floor beside us. A second later my clothing was also strewn around us and she was dragging me toward the bed.

"Call me Sarah," she panted at me. "And you can drop the 'Nurse.' I quit The Center this afternoon. I was never really a nurse anyway."

If I hadn't known that everything that she was doing was because of my own mind, it would have been more like rape– not that I was objecting. She was all over me with her mouth, and I mean all over me. I don't know how I didn't fire off long before she even got to straddling me and going full cowgirl. OK, I know how, I just hadn't thought about that aspect of it before.

She bounced up and down on me going higher and higher and I wasn't that far behind her. She was squeezing me with her cunt muscles as she moved up and down, and it almost felt like I was being milked like a cow. Finally she started shuddering and reached up and squeezed her breasts and shouted, "Now!"

Gentleman that I am, I complied with her command and erupted within her. She collapsed panting on my chest. A few moments later she said between deep breaths, "That was for me. You don't know how long it has been since I have been able to risk letting myself go like that. We can go slower in the future."

Maybe I really am a gentleman. I felt guilty. Changing her uniform into something much more interesting was one thing, but turning her into my personal sex slave or whatever was another. "I'm sorry," I started to mumble. "I didn't mean to do this to you. I'll make it right. Just give me a little while to figure out what I have to do."

That's when she started laughing. She sat back up on my waist with me still just barely inside her. "You didn't do this to me," she said with a giggle. "I'm immune. That's why Doctor Roberts wanted me at The Center. I was the only one they'd ever found who was immune to Doctor Bill's thoughts."

She put her finger on my lips, which were open wide in shock, and said, "My clothes, not-so-much, but my body is immune from anything you might come up with in that dirty little mind."

She swung her leg up and rolled over next to me so we were lying side by side. "And even more importantly," she continued, "you are immune from me. I knew that as soon as I couldn't force you to bring the book to The Center."

I suddenly realized what was going on. "You've had the book, too," I almost shouted.

"Not exactly," she said with a grin. "But while I was on leave in Japan, an old Shinto priest stopped me on the street one day and gave me a scroll. He said it was the Dragon Scroll and that it held the secret to the Dragon Warrior's powers."

She laughed and then continued, "I thought it was just some of that oriental bullshit for tourists, but then weird things started happening around me. Just when I thought I would go nuts, a note– written in English– fell out of the scroll telling me to go see a particular show at some little Kabuki theater down in a really old area of Tokyo. I couldn't understand a damn thing, but in their dance routine, one of the girls kept pointing a scroll at a lamp and it would suddenly light. A little later she would point it again and the light would go out. After the performance, she came up to me and said in very broken English, 'It doesn't have to be the scroll, chosen one. But keep the scroll safe so it can choose the one to follow you.'"

She rolled up onto her side and pointed at her hip. There was a small scroll tattooed there, on the outside just below her waist. "It works just like your feather," she said. She pressed it and said, "The lamp comes on." She pressed it again and said, "And the lamp goes off."

She rolled over so that she was lying almost on top of me. She reached down and ran her hand up my leg, starting at about my knee. My prick began to stir. "The only problem is that certain things can override the switch." She ran her finger lightly over my penis and it finished springing to attention. "Like an orgasm," she said with a wicked laugh.

"As you would have soon discovered," she continued, "a tremendous burst of energy is released in that instant when your mind loses control during an orgasm." She kissed me lightly on the lips and went on, "It isn't enough to damage objects around you or make weird things appear in the room– usually– but if you are touching someone at that point..." She laughed. "... and that is sort of the whole point of sex, isn't it?" She pushed herself up onto both elbows and explained, "If you are touching someone at the point of orgasm, you sort of fry their brain."

She laughed again and said, "Some of the guys I've dated wouldn't have had anything to worry about. They went off before I could even get warmed up. But until I met someone who was immune, I was limited to wearing out dildos and vibrators." She gave me a crooked smile and said, "You gave me my first real flesh-to-flesh orgasm in eight years."

"So if I had feathered some bimbo from the casino into coming up to the room with me..?"

"You would have fucked her senseless." she replied. "And she would have stayed that way for a long, long time." She made a strange face and shrugged her shoulders. "Trust me, I speak from experience."

Her face and her voice got very serious. "That's how the center found out about me. I got arrested for drugging my date. I was originally as much a prisoner as Dr. Bill, but I still had my mind and I slowly erased myself from everyone's memory as anything but 'Nurse Murphy.' Before I left yesterday, I even made sure that the Nurse Murphy in their files was a 58-year-old employee who took early retirement and moved away."

"What exactly is the scroll and what did you do with it?" I asked.

"The scroll is now in a Shinto Shrine in a little village south of Tokyo. As far as what it is, have you ever seen Kung Fu Panda?"

"What!?" I exclaimed.

She laughed again and began to explain. "Walt Disney wasn't the only movie maker to steal ancient myths and make kiddie movies out of them. The Dragon Scroll in Kung Fu Panda was blank, but it opened up the power in Jack Black's character. Does that sound familiar?"

She smiled at me and raised her eyebrows as if waiting for me to answer, but before I could say anything, she continued, "There's a joke in there that only someone who knows about the true scroll can get. According to the real legend, the true Dragon Scroll is supposed to come from 'Master Woog,' or as it would be said in Pig Latin 'Astermay Oogway.'"

She laughed again, "Oogway was the name used for the master in the movie."

She turned serious and asked, "What are you going to do with the real book?"

"There is a new storage facility going up in North Hollywood," I replied. "They claim that their building is 100% earthquake-proof and will last for 200 years. I figure a pre-paid storage rental of 100 years ought to test their claims.

"And I'm going to invest the million in stocks or whatever. I figure I should be able to pick what will be profitable. You and I should be able to live comfortably for a long, long time."

A bottle of body gel suddenly appeared in my hand. "In the meantime," I said with what I hoped was my best sly smile, "I think we need to bleed off more trapped sexual energy before one of us explodes and turns this whole hotel into a giant brothel."

"It's legal in Nevada," she said as she rolled over so I could start massaging her back.

"But not in Las Vegas," I said as I slid my now slippery hand between her beautiful round buttocks.

"Details, details," she murmured. "Either of us could change that without leaving the room."

When we finally left the room and checked out four days later, I asked the desk clerk, "Would you settle an argument for me and my wife. 'Is prostitution legal in Las Vegas?'"

"A lot of tourists think so," he replied, "but no. Legal in Nevada, but not in Las Vegas itself."

Sarah looked at me with her eyebrows arched in a questioning manner. "Just checking," I said. "Just checking."

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