I Put a Spell on You

The house looks almost creepy. Well, maybe that's just because it's Halloween and it's dark -- everything looks creepier in the dark. Also, it's his house -- that makes it the best house in the world, right?

Then why do my hands tremble now that I reach out to press the door bell?

***

He opened the door with a smile on his face. She was as beautiful as he had expected, wearing a black dress that was much too light for this cold weather, her coat open, her red hair put up into a complicated hairdo as if she was going to a party or the opera rather than someone's home. He could tell she was nervous, blushing slightly, but her face relaxed as soon as she saw his smile.

"Come in."

He took her coat and led her into the dining room where he had set the table and decorated it with flowers and candles. She should be able to see he wasn't one of those guys who think dinner has to consist of a pizza in front of the TV and has to rely on others for anything else.

"Sit down, dinner is almost ready. Do you want a glass of wine?"

She nodded, unable to speak. This was perfect; everything was as she had dreamt it to be. This evening couldn't go wrong. She felt a rush of thankfulness towards the unknown writer of the spell book, towards the librarian who might have purchased it generations ago, to the current librarian who had kept it between the other books for her to find.

As he went to the kitchen to get the food he had made, she looked around. The house must indeed be old, the walls seemed somewhat cold and thick, but were tastefully decorated with paintings. The heavy carpet on the floor looked old fashioned, but gave the room warmth it might otherwise have lacked. She could hear faint music coming in through one of the doors that led to other rooms, something classical.

She turned back to the table and sipped from her wine glass. She didn't know much about wine, but she could tell this one wasn't cheap. It tasted good, and when he returned with a dish of steaming, exotic food -- Indian, she thought from the smell -- her glass was already half empty.

As they ate she could hardly keep her eyes off him. Her heart was beating at the thought of what was, hopefully, to follow the meal. Each look at his hands, neatly handling his knife and fork, made her wonder whether they would be just as skillfully touching her body in a little while. The thought of feeling these long fingers, his tender yet strong touch, sent shivers down her spine.

There was something sensuous to his mouth, even as he ate. The joy with which his lips seemed to receive the food made her remember that she once had read how someone's attitude toward food might be an indication of their sexual abilities. He surely seemed to be a gourmet, as well as an excellent cook.

They were oddly quiet during the meal. She had expected more conversation but couldn't think of anything to say, and he wasn't talking much either. For a moment she wondered if he perhaps felt sorry for having invited her but then she noticed that he kept looking at her, that he seemed happy to see her enjoying the food he had cooked, glad that she had accepted the invitation.

There was no need to talk, she decided. There was something intimate in their silence, as if they had known each other for the longest time. When was the last time someone looked at her like this, with an expression so full of desire?

When her glass of wine was empty he poured some more -- it went to her head quickly, she noticed. Yet she drank more, and when they had finished their meal her glass was almost empty once more.

Now was the right time, she supposed. She felt her heart beat increase again. This was it, she was going to say the final part of the spell and then he would be hers. She could then be sure of his desire for her. Nervously she thought of what he might think when she started reciting the spell, but with another sip of her wine, emptying the glass, she wiped this worry away. She took a deep breath before looking at him and started speaking, trying to remember the strange words whose meaning, if they even had any, she didn't know:

"Acum momentul a sosit. Sunt al tau, pentru totdeauna al tau. Nimeni n-o sa stie, nimeni n-o sa cauta. Sunt sclava dorintei tale."

"Asa sa fie."

His voice surprised her. The book hadn't said anything about him speaking too. Then again it might still be a result of the spell, a confirmation that the incantation had had the desired effect and just not been mentioned in the book because it wasn't something she herself had to do, or so she hoped. After all, he didn't seem surprised at her saying the enchantment; he had just looked at her, his eyes expressing desire, so she assumed he must now be completely under her spell.

Smiling, he stood up, stepped towards her, and gave her his hand, as if to help her up from her seat. She obliged and, standing right next to him, looked up into his eyes. Now that they were so close she could smell him, feel the warmth of his body; it was intoxicating. She could see his lips approaching hers.

***

She is beautiful bathed in the light of the candles; it was worth placing them on the table just for this view. Oh, these big eyes with which she is looking at me, and her mouth, expecting my kiss. I am not sure how long I can control myself anymore. I want her. I need her. Now. I have dreamt of this moment whenever I saw her in class, whenever I pretended not to notice her.

The touch of her lips on mine just makes my hunger grow. I can taste her mouth; I let my tongue explore it... so sweet... I want her to be mine.

***

For a few minutes their lips were locked in a kiss. They seemed to have forgotten everything around them. Time stood still in this room that seemed to be from a different time itself, their heartbeats seemed to be just one and the same, their kiss carried in it all the hopes and promises of the incantation whose words still seemed to float in the air.

***

This is it. It worked. He is everything I have dreamed of. His arms are so strong as they hold me. His lips so soft, his kiss tastes wonderful. I almost can't decide between keeping my eyes open to see his face bathed in the light of the candles that are still burning on the table, or closing them to only enjoy the feeling of his kiss. I never want this moment to stop...

Finally I can feel the touch of his hands as he presses my body closer to his. He is strong, just as I imagined. I bet, if he wanted to, he could hold me like this and I would have no chance to escape.

I need to look into his eyes. I want to talk to him, hear him tell me that he thinks I am beautiful. After that, I want him to kiss me again. But right now, I want to be able to look into his eyes.

***

Finally she wanted to break their kiss, maybe so she could say something to him, or maybe just to get another chance to look into his eyes.

He, however, didn't agree with that. Why did she want to stop now? He wanted to keep kissing her. His hand went up to her head, his fingers entangling in her hair, and he held her head in the right position, her face close to his, their kiss growing more passionate. For a few seconds she accepted this, thought it to be a sign of his passion for her.

Then the pressure of his fingers into her skull grew painful, the awkward position into which he forced her head made her neck hurt. She tried to pull away.

***

She is mine. She is so beautiful... I can't let her get away. She will stay mine. I don't want to stop. Stay here. You know I am stronger than you. See... You've got no chance.

***

Panic grew in her. This wasn't right. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to want her, yes... but this was too much.

The room was still bathed in candle light, soft music was still floating to the room, but the two figures next to the heavy oak table seemed to be struggling rather than kissing.

***

What is he doing? Doesn't he know he is hurting me?

The spell... Something must have gone wrong with the spell... No, that can't be. I did everything right, didn't I? No, I used too much of some of the herbs. Why did I do that? They warned me not to...

No, please, this can't be happening. In a second he will realize that he's hurting me, that I want him to stop. He will apologize and the evening will go as great as I have hoped.

He isn't stopping. He must have noticed that I want him to stop. Ouch. He is biting my lip. Why is he biting my lip? This wasn't a playful bite, it really hurt.

No, please, stop! This can't be happening...

***

While he kept kissing her, forcing his tongue into her mouth, exploring every corner, biting her lips and twisting her hair painfully when she fought back too strongly, he pushed her backwards into a corner of the room where she was trapped between the wall and him, so that she was completely at his mercy. He didn't need his hands anymore to keep her in check so he could use them to roam over her body instead, squeezing her ass through the beautiful black dress while he was pressing his body against hers, so that she could feel how much all this excited him.

***

I don't recognize him anymore. This isn't the man I was watching every day in class, the one I was dreaming about all the time. His hands don't feel like those that touched me just minutes ago. They are coarse now, strong and brutal. And his kiss... can you still call this a kiss? He is nearly suffocating me. Let me go! Please... I just want to go home...

***

She gathered all her strength and tried to push him away and for a second it seemed like she was successful. He stumbled a few steps away, she could breathe again. Her whole face seemed to burn, her mouth was numb and at the same time the skin around it felt raw, and she suddenly realized that she only saw blurry shapes because her eyes were filled with tears.

She tried to kick at him, to push him further away, to hurt him enough, so that she would have a chance to get away. But the next moment he was right in front of her again, grabbing her arm, twisting it behind her back and forcing her to turn around. He pushed her into the wall; she turned her face sideways just in time to protect her nose, but the contact with the hard stone on her cheek, her chest, her whole body made her gasp. Again he pressed his body against hers; with slow movements he rubbed his groin against her ass while breathing heavily into her ear.

His tongue touched her ear, explored it; for just a moment its wet touch made her feel a shiver of excitement, a tingling inside her, then his lips caught her earlobe. He sucked it into his mouth and then bit down on it. Her shriek of pain seemed to excite him even more; he pressed his body harder against hers and let out a slight moan.

His free hand started exploring her body, squeezing her ass, her breasts, whichever part of her he could reach. Then he slipped his hand underneath her dress, moved it up and down the insides of her legs. Instinctively she pressed her legs together, but with a strength that scared her he managed to push his hand further up, until his fingers were rubbing against the fabric of her underwear.

***

I love it how she squirms and tries to get away -- and ends up making her body only more accessible to me. She smells wonderful. Her perfume, her sweat, her fear. I can't get enough of it. And I can feel the warmth of her sex under my hands. My touch doesn't leave her body unaffected. She is mine. Mine, to do with what I want.

***

When he tried to slip a finger underneath her panties she started struggling more strongly. In reaction to this his mouth searched out her neck; he caught some of her soft skin between his teeth and bit without a word of warning. At the same time, he twisted her arm more violently behind her back. She didn't scream this time, but while trying to push his head away with the help of her own she kept the rest of her body still now. Having had the desired effect, the grip of his teeth loosened, though not completely.

She allowed him to push her underwear down now, far enough to have free access to her sex. His fingers played with her labia, found her clit and rubbed it with small, circular movements, which caused her more pain than pleasure as his touch was lacking any tenderness. Then he pushed her labia to the side and probed her pussy with his finger. He managed to force quite a bit into her. Then he took his hand to his mouth -- his teeth letting go of her neck -- to moisten it by sucking on it.

"Mmm," he made an exaggerated sound of enjoyment at her taste, and then returned the finger to her pussy, pushing it in and out of her.

***

I have to get out of here. I have to get away from him. I have to get to the spell book and see if there is any counter spell.

He is crazy. The spell has gone wrong. I should never have done this, I didn't even know what I was doing, what effect the spell can cause. It's all gone wrong... And he is so strong, I can barely move when he doesn't want me to. I am scared... What will he do to me?

I wish I had told the others where I was going. But that wouldn't mean they would come looking for me, anyway -- I know him, they know him too, he is a university teacher! It would never have occurred to anyone it might not be safe here... They won't even notice I am gone until tomorrow...

What is he going to do? How am I going to get away from here? I am scared...

***

She let him do everything now, didn't try to fight back. She knew she didn't stand a chance against him if she was struggling. All she could do was close her eyes, and hope it would be over soon, hope he would stop soon, or that there would be some chance to escape.

He tried to push his hand up further along her body, tried to reach her breasts, but her dress was too tight. The sound of ripping fabric made her eyes open again. "This is my favorite dress!" shot through her mind, and the next moment she realized that this was the least of her problems.

But somehow the fact that he simply ripped apart the expensive piece of clothing made her panic, as if it had reminded her of what was inevitable now. It seemed to confirm his determination, and even though the shreds of her dress still clung to her, she felt naked and helpless.

He let go of her arm now, turned her around, and pinned her against the wall with his hand on her throat. Then he paused to look at her. With his free hand he tore away the remains of her dress so she was standing in front of him naked except for her underwear that was hanging somewhere at the height of her knees, and her bra.

***

I don't think I have ever seen anything that beautiful. The way her eyes stare at me in panic. I think she has cried a bit -- her makeup is smeared, her mascara is running down her face in dark lines. And her hair... a little pulling and twisting was enough to mess it up wonderfully.

When I press my hand tighter onto her throat, she starts gasping in panic. I love that sound. And how she is hitting at me with her arms, though she has no chance to push me away. Almost... cute...

Oh, don't worry, I won't hurt you... too much. I still need you, I want you to be mine. There, now you have enough air again.

We have to get rid of that bra, don't we? Let me see... These things are difficult to open when the owner is struggling. Keep still or I... That's a good girl. There we go.

Her breasts are perfect. I could stand here for hours just looking at them. And they are mine, because she is mine...

***

He reached out with his free hand and touched her breasts, carefully at first, exploring their round form, then softly taking one of her nipples between his fingers. It reacted immediately to his touch. He cupped that breast in his hand to feel the contrast of the soft flesh with the small, hard nipple poking into the middle of his hand.

He let go of her throat and cupped her other breast too. For a while he seemed completely lost in the feeling of her breasts in his hands, stroking them tenderly, almost lovingly. She stood still except for a sob that shook her body every now and then, her eyes half open she looked to the side where she could still see the blurry lights of the candles he had lit for their dinner.

His touch got stronger, coarser; he kneaded her breasts painfully, his breath getting heavier at the same time. Then, suddenly, he let go of them, instead putting his arms around her, pulling her body against his so he could feel the warmth of it.

Her ear again close to his mouth, he whispered, "You are beautiful."

His voice was a hiss, an ice cold and brutal sound that mocked the tenderness of the words and scared her more than his touch had. She started struggling again, wanting to squirm out of his embrace. He let go of her, but before she could move away in any direction he pushed her down to the ground. Despite the thick carpet covering the ground she hit the floor hard and groaned in pain while he stood over her, one leg on each side of her body, his hands now busy opening the belt that held up his trousers.

Despite her fear she noticed that she couldn't take her eyes off him. She wanted to close them, wanted to stop having to see him, but she couldn't. She kept watching him in a strange fascination until he had freed his manhood which stood proudly above her, as big as it had seemed to her when he had pressed his body against hers.

He left his shirt on and hadn't even taken off his trousers completely, they were hanging at his knees as he kneeled down above her, pinning her arms to the ground with the help of his legs. In panic, seeing his cock right in front of her face like an unspoken threat, she tried to struggle out of his grip, kicking her legs into the air, but it was useless. He was heavy sitting on her chest, making it difficult for her to breathe.

He pressed his cock against her face and in disgust she turned her head, but a violent blow of his hand against her cheek almost robbed her of consciousness. After that she didn't dare to turn away again and obediently opened her mouth, taking in the tip of his manhood, tasting something salty, probably a little bit of pre-cum.

He grabbed her chin, forcing her to open her mouth wider so he could shove his cock deep inside, until she started gagging. Instinctively she now tried to turn her head again, tried to get rid of him, tried to catch breath.

"Try to relax."

His voice was soft and soothing now, it reminded her of the way he used to explain things in class. She held on to the sound of his voice, as if it was the one thing that could save her from this situation. The one thing that was familiar.

***

I can't breathe. He is going to kill me. This is going to kill me. Please... please don't hurt me. This can't be happening...

Relax. He said relax. I have to relax. That is my only chance. I have to survive this. I have to get out of here again. I can't breathe. Relax... It gets a bit better when I relax. I can breathe, when I relax.

I wish it was over. I wish I was home. I wish I had never found that book. I have to get back home, I have to get the book, there has to be a counter curse. There has to be a way to undo all this. After that, I will bring the book back to the library... No, better, I will bury it somewhere. No one should ever find it again. No one should be tempted to use it. This can never happen again.

Please, just let it be over soon...

***

Again, his fingers were in her hair, yanking her head painfully into the position he needed it in so he could thrust into her mouth in a faster and faster rhythm. Only every now and then he took a break, allowing her to catch some breath. She gave her best not to fight back, to relax, to let him do what he was doing, hoping that her compliance would help him to be done soon, wishing that this would be all he was planning to do.