The Witch's Apprentice Ch. 02

Brian woke up on the bathroom floor and, for a second, completely forgot what had happened. Then he saw the mess on the patterned tile and white walls. Had he really passed out? He looked down and saw that his dick was soft, but still so large he couldn't believe it was his. The sound of the front door opening pierced the silence. "Fuck," he muttered.

One of his roommates was back, probably Kyle. He locked the door and cranked on the shower. As he cleaned up he pondered his condition, the veil of lust now lifted from his thoughts. He was a skeptic by nature. Grounded in reality and doubtful of ghost stories and myth. But there was simply no reasonable way to explain this. He decided to put the "how" aside, it wasn't being helpful. More important was the "why." Only one person could answer that question. Her brief touch and that strange feeling must have been the catalyst for this change. It was the only other vaguely paranormal thing that had every happened to him. Somehow, he needed to find Betsy.

When he finished with the bathroom he hopped into the shower. As he stared at his dick with the water pounding the back of his head, it came to him. His phone! She had used his phone for something. He toweled off in a hurry and got to his room, shouting a hello to Kyle on the way. He threw on some underwear and then realized that they were now too tight to be comfortable. His jeans gave him the same problem. He ransacked his closet and eventually settled on no underwear and elastic sweatpants.

His cock was still pretty visible under the fabric. It stood out against his thigh where the sweatpants pulled it, and his balls made an undeniable bulge. It would do for now. He grabbed his phone and scrolled through his texts until he found the one she had sent. It was to a number he didn't recognize, and the message was just an address. He pulled it up on google and saw that it was close by, not far from where they'd met. He took a deep breath and reached into his closet once more.

"Found you."

He donned his winter gloves.

--xxx--

Brian stepped into the cold air and set out at a brisk pace. It was only mid afternoon but the sun was already on its way down. He noticed the moon hanging in the baby blue sky. It almost seemed like it was being defiant, mocking the natural order by showing itself in the daylight. The genetalia brushing against his legs as he walked was a constant reminder of the impossible. What was happening to him?

Somebody appeared ahead on the sidewalk, and he suddenly became very aware of the bulge in his sweatpants. Anybody who looked down would notice. As the pedestrian neared, he saw that she was a middle aged woman. He started to attempt a subtle turn of his crotch away from the woman's field of view. Then his mouth fell open. A soft glow was coating the woman's body. Loops and swirls of light danced across her profile in dark green and orange. The lady must have noticed his staring, because she quickened her pace as she passed. What the fuck was happening to him?

The rest of the trip was uneventful. Save for the whirlwind of thoughts in Brian's head. He had just discounted accidental ingestion of LSD and clinical insanity when he realized he was at the mysterious address. It was an apartment complex like any other. The text said "Apt 8," so he found the front door and hit the appropriate buzzer. He listened for what felt like forever until a loud buzz sounded in response. Somebody was home.

Every step up the stairs made a thud that he felt like the whole building must be hearing. Halfway up he hesitated and almost turned around, but he'd come too far to quit. He reached the door with a metal eight on it and knocked. Immediately, it swung inwards. He saw a hand grip the door frame before anything else. Purple nail polish. Betsy appeared with a smile.

"I've been waiting Brian, please come in."

He didn't budge, though Betsy was just as striking at second gaze. She was in a tight green blouse with a very short skirt. Even more than that, he had to pull himself away from her cleavage, underlined by the low cut of the blouse. He hadn't realized how busty she was behind the overcoat and sweater. "What the hell is happening to me?"

"I'll show you." Betsy turned around and he couldn't help but stare at her butt, half bared under the meager fabric of the skirt. He was pretty sure she wasn't wearing panties. He swallowed and followed her in. She disappeared around a hallway, and with her gone he focused on his surroundings. There was no electric light, only candles. It seemed like there was at least one on every open surface. They were the main source of light now that the sky beyond the windows was dark. Old books and strange jewelry littered a coffee table in the living room, it lied in front of a green velvet sofa. No TV.

Classical paintings of orgies and people posturing in the nude adorned the walls. The kitchen, built as an extension of the living room, was smattered with flasks and round glass bottles. A cauldron that looked like it'd come right out of some medieval land was on the floor. One of the flasks had a liquid in it that seemed photoluminescent. He approached to get a better look, and in the process noticed something that made him double take. Blood splattered knives in the sink. "This is fucking crazy," he muttered.

Moments later, Betsy yelled from around the hall, "Coming," and after a pause, "don't touch anything."

He took a seat on the couch. Ready for anything, to run if he had to. When she re-appeared she had a book in her hands. Older even than the ones on the table. She sat on a wooden chair opposite the couch and crossed her legs. Absolutely nothing would have been left to the imagination if she hadn't.

"Brian, I've chosen you."

He found himself admiring her full lips as she talked, then shaking himself out of it. "For what exactly?"

"To be... like me."

"A candle collector?"

She laughed, "that's only a side effect."

"Well it doesn't explain what's happening to me."

"Ah yes, it looks like the transformations already occurred." Betsy bit her lip and looked down at his crotch. Brian always thought that the lip biting thing looked forced on most girls, but Betsy didn't even seem conscious of it. She looked like a lioness in heat. He felt his cock start to harden as she stared. "It's easier if I show you," Betsy said as she stood and walked towards him.

He watched her thighs rub against each other as she skirted the coffee table and knelt at his lap with the book still in hand. He was glued to the couch. She opened up her tome and rested it on his legs, covering up his growing erection. She batted her eyelids up at him as she turned the page, then looked back down and scanned it. She proceeded to open her mouth and chant under her breath. "Legatum proferet atra luxuriae."

Her eyes flashed colors as she repeated the phrase two more times. It seemed to vibrate through the air. Without warning, the world turned red, and Brian was no longer in an apartment complex. He was flying. Hovering above a great hall in a stone castle. He tried to move, and found that he could only turn his head.

"Bow first." A voice drew his focus.

A man sat on a beautifully carved throne at the end of the hall. If Brian focused on any detail, no matter how far, it became perfectly clear to him. He saw that the wood of the chair was shaped into screaming creatures, womanly curves and male genitalia, all twisted and fused together. The man wore a ridiculous outfit. Shoulder pads, a cape, and at the crotch, a cutout for his cock. It stood upright out of the tailored hole, snug around the base. He gestured towards his crotch as he gave the young girl bowing deeply at his feet another command: "Mount me."

She nodded, and climbed over his lap and onto the throne. She hoisted up her dress and lowered herself onto his cock, as big as Brian's new one. A gasp escaped her as she sunk down and felt his penetration. He saw lights around their bodies, just like the woman on the street. Glowing wisps of color cocooned the lord and the maiden as he pulled down her dress and grabbed her tits. She began to moan, his erection now mostly inside her. Snakes of light unwrapped themselves from the woman and gently looped around the man. As they fucked, a deep understanding awakened in some part of Brian's mind.

These lights were auras of a sort, auras of evil intention. They showed the human capacity for dark deeds. The unique energies manifested from lust, wraith, greed and beyond in every person. For a second he felt as though he was the man on the throne. He saw the maiden's agape expression above him. Her squirming body felt good. Her tits were warm and full under his fingers. He felt her lustful energy being wicked away, making him more powerful.

Another red flash and he was back in Betsy's room. She had pulled down his sweat pants and was licking his shaft. Her pink tongue sent shudders up his spine. She got to the top, went in circles around the tip, then took it in her mouth. She looked up and winked. Back to red.

He was floating again, now above a row of cages. Each held a naked woman or man. A woman in only leather straps read from a scroll in a low voice. As she finished speaking the prisoners began to twitch. Cocks grew from the women's groins. Their eyes widened as they watched them expand above their pussies. Breasts sprouted from the men's chests, their body's became curved and feminine, their asses swelled. Ribbons of light were jumping from the woman in leather to the transforming captives.

He felt another kernel of knowledge unravel. This woman was like Betsy, like the man on the throne, and now like him. They possessed the ability to manipulate auras. They could draw from others by committing dark acts. Or, they could channel their energy outwards, through ancient spells, potions and magical items.

With a flash of red he was staring into Betsy's eyes again. Her mouth was moving back and forth over his head as she rubbed the rest of his length with two fists. He was suddenly aware of her aura, a deep well of erotic power. Without thinking, he grabbed the back of her head and firmly pulled towards his body. Her eyes widened as he deepthroated her. In her moment of vulnerability he felt her aura wash over his body, he was absorbing it, just like on the throne. She was working with him now, jamming his cock down her throat, trying to take it all. His entire body buzzed with energy. Jerking off in the bathroom was paltry in compare to this, his first blow job. Another flash.

He saw an orgy in a modern mansion, flashes of aura and energy weaving between men, women, and people that were neither in a tangled mess of sex and magic. Somehow he felt their pleasure, and still the sensations of Betsy in her apartment. He was in two places at once.

Flash.

He was a man with two dicks, one in a woman each. His hands were tangled in Betsy's hair.

Flash.

He saw a woman being fucked by a swarm of disembodied cocks. He heard Betsy gag on his own.

Flash.

He was the man in the throne again. He couldn't take anymore.

Flash.

He was cumming in Betsy's throat.

--xxx--

"So," Brian sipped the tea he'd been offered and finally spoke.

"So," Betsy agreed, back on her chair with legs crossed, like what had just happened was not fucking mind blowing.

"When you touched me on the street, you turned me into some sort of..."

"A Warlock."

"Ok. So you're a Witch then?"

She nodded with one smooth downward motion of the head, "any of us can learn the awakening spell after a few years."

He was not ready to wrap his head around a timeline of years quite yet. "So why yesterday, why me?"

"Well, anyone can be awoken. But not everyone's a good pick. You want the right aura. Plus, you can only awaken two or three people in your life, so you want to choose carefully." Betsy eyed her nails as Brian processed this.

"So the type of aura you have effects like, how well you can use magic?" He noticed a drop of white cum still on the corner of her mouth. He remembered her throat spasming as she somehow swallowed most of his enormous load. This turned him on again, despite just climaxing. How was she so nonchalant?

"Not exactly, there are seven different types of dark energy that make up a person's aura. Everybody has a dominant type, one that they're most attuned to."

He nodded, "everyone has a vice."

"Exactly, once someone awakens, they become the class of Witch or Warlock related to their dominant energy type. I'm a Lust Witch."

"Is anybody all seven types?"

"Yeah Satan."

"Oh... ok," he shifted on the couch uncomfortably.

"Lust Witches can only awaken potential Lust Witches and Lust Warlocks, and so on. By the way it's Magi plural."

"Ahh, so we're both Lust Magi."

"Yep, if the massive dick didn't give it away. Yours formed so nicely." She gave his crotch another seductive glance. "In a different case, like if you were a Wraith Warlock for example, you would have had visions of people using spells of anger to harm others earlier."

Things were starting to make some sense, as much as any of this could make sense.

"Brian," Betsy looked at him with that hungry expression again, "Your aura was... breathtaking. I knew as soon as I saw you, you were mine."

"Wait, 'yours' like some magical slavery thing or like you wanted to fuck me?"

She laughed again. It was a deep-bellied, drawling laugh and he enjoyed the sound. Normally he'd be awkward, talking to a woman like this. But they were well beyond normal.

"A bit of both I guess, we are magically connected now. You are my thrall. My apprentice. At least until you're fully developed."

"And what does apprenticeship entail?"

Betsy leveled her gaze at him, "it means you are magically contracted to never harm me, and to pay off the debt you owe." She anticipated his next question. "For me turning you into a sex god and all."

"Ah."

"Also, you are now a part of an ancient and secret order. I expect you to keep your lips sealed. It's one thing to show unusual sexual prowess, but another to tell people where you got it."

"Nobody would believe me even if I did blab."

Betsy stood up and smoothed her hands over her clothes. "I think that's enough excitement," she adjusted the way her boobs rested in her blouse a little with her eyes still on him, "for today." She pulled a small book from a stack on the coffee table, it was in better condition than the rest. "Take good care of this" she said as she handed it over. "My number is the one I sent this address to in your phone. I'll text you soon. "

He set down his tea cup, "Ok, one last question."

"Yes, my apprentice?"

"Am I your first thrall?"

Another wry smile, "second."