Transformed! Nine Magically Erotic Stories (31 page)

That particular enchantment was a doozy—beautification and total enslavement, both wonderful ingredients for the massive spell that Felicia was hoping to unleash next week. But all the complex gesturing sure fooled Caleb.

“This won’t work,” Felicia had said finally, the lie very easy at this point. “I need you to relinquish all control of her over to me.”

And he did, of course. Now that Heather had heard him do so, she obeyed Felicia’s every command to the letter.

Later on tonight, when they were alone, Felicia would start some more intense brainwashing of Heather—ensuring that she would never go against Felicia’s will. There were certain logical arguments and tricks Felicia could work on the fragile little fuckpet’s mind that would make Heather think that anytime Caleb said something contrary to Felicia, it was just a test of the original order to obey Felicia. And that, plus a hard dose of orgasms, some shapeshifting, and a few gentle tugs of the strands of enchantments around Heather’s mind...and she would be nothing but putty in Felicia’s hands.

The Slave could be manipulated in such a manner without violating the terms of the ceremony—she was a slave, after all.

But the others, well. The Spell Suprema was a complicated task. All in all, for her ceremony to work, she needed five components—all human sacrifices. They were the Slave, the Warrior, the Beast-King, the Priestess, and the Enchantress Queen.

Part of the role of the Priestess—Lauren—was her immunity to long term magical effects, so mind control on her was out of the question. The same for Maryse, the Enchantress Queen.

And Caleb and Bryce, Beast-King and Warrior, had to remain loyal to the Enchantress Queen.

Felicia sighed. Magic was such a bore with all its rules, sometimes. She couldn’t wait to own enough power to rewrite them all. Every spell and its rules would all be various intonations and rearrangements of her own name, she decided. It was no less than she deserved for being such an achingly perfect, beautiful, immortal Goddess on Earth. The Spell Suprema would simply make that the reality instead of her fantasy.

Knowing that Maryse was going to come by later, Felicia had dressed herself in a way that she hoped would give off a certain impact. Her tight leather pants and corset were put away, and a shimmering dark gown put on instead—the kind with a deep v-neck that showed off the bouncing creamy orbs on her chest. A nice pair of thigh-high black leather boots with tall stiletto heels completed the image.

The sexuality of others was no mystery to Felicia—she owned several totems that would tell her all that she needed to know about a person’s preferences and kinks. But, she had hardly needed them when it came to Maryse. Even in the few moments they had been able to converse, Maryse’s attraction to Felicia was incredibly clear.

There was a knock on the door. Felicia’s heart began to race. It was time.

She answered the door with a small smile. “Welcome.”

Maryse nodded, stepping inside—appearing somewhat interested in the morbidly rustic décor of bones and dusty tomes—but of course showing mostly disinterest. If she was never interested, then people would always be trying to impress her. Felicia picked up on that immediately.

It was painstakingly difficult not to pounce on top of Maryse and demand that the two of them become lovers, instantly. The younger woman was lightning hot. Her cheekbones were molded from heavenly reliefs, her breasts exquisitely displayed in her tiny, midriff baring tee shirt. She had the sort of long-legged build that Maryse did, that allowed her to wear tight yoga pants and make them look like hot sexual totems. She looked as though she had been poured into them.

Felicia, for once, felt underdressed and overwhelmed by a woman’s presence. It had been quite a while since that had happened—maybe when she had conjured up the projection of the first Sorceress Suprema from millennia ago to lecture her in the ways of the Spell Suprema.

“So,” said Felicia. “You are the girl my stepbrother wants to be with?”

Maryse laughed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, probably. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Neither would I,” said Felicia, smiling.

They both gazed at the other for a moment, their eyes cat-like, predatory. Each felt as though the other could hide nothing.

Finally, Maryse broke the staring contest, with an air of affected disinterest. “There’s something I think you should know about.”

“All right.”

“I met a woman who said she was hunting Caleb.”

“Hunting?”

“She was some sort of, I don’t know. Hunter.”

“Thus the hunting.”

Felicia already knew all about Aksana. It was rather fun for the young witch to keep tabs on the hapless huntress—hopping around the neighborhood, clearly detecting enormous amounts of evil magic, but ever distracted or misdirected once she got close to Felicia's house. It was an old and very effective enchantment—and Felicia strengthened it every day.

“Right,” said Maryse. “She said she had a cure for his lycanthropy.”

“There is no cure,” Felicia tsked, shaking her head. “There is only containment.”

The only real cure was death, of course.

Maryse sat down on Felicia's bed, one eyebrow raising at its clear comfort. “In that case, I want protection from him. He does want me. I can tell. I don’t want to end up like Heather.”

Felicia chuckled a bit. “Beautiful and young for the rest of her days?”

“You know what I mean. Enslaved.”

“Of course.”

“I want to be powerful,” said Maryse, leaning forward, touching her cleavage. “I want...I want to be immune to whatever comes to pass. Couldn't you...help me with that?”

Maryse slipped her hands upward and grabbed Felicia, guiding her down to the bed next to her.

Felicia had to take a second not to laugh—Maryse was trying to seduce her! It wouldn’t have been so laughable, as Maryse was certain drop-dead gorgeous—except that Felicia had been planning the same thing.

Well, it was easier this way.

“Yes,” said Felicia. “I can help you with this problem.”

“Wonderful. And...”

“Yes?” Felicia acted eager to know more, lighting up her eyes.

“I want...I mean, I would like...well.” Maryse laughed softly, sliding her hands far up Felicia's arms. Felicia let herself enjoy it—there was nothing like the touch of a beautiful young woman. “Is there any way I could be even...more protected? The best defense is a good offense, I think.”

For several moments, Felicia pretended to hesitate. She wanted to see how far Maryse would go.

It was pretty far. Maryse slid forward, wrapping one hand around Felicia's neck, and pulled her in for a hot, long kiss. Their tongues danced, hot saliva lubricating their perfect, young lips.

Maryse kissed at her neck. “Please? I could make it worth your while...”

Felicia moaned, nodding. “You want power, right? Lots of power?”

It was easy to make her voice hot and breathy—she
was
turned on, after all. There were many forms of power, but there were few as intoxicating as making someone else think they were in control, while still completely owning the situation. Felicia enjoyed that now with Maryse’s kisses and soft nibbles on her neck and chin.

“Yessss,” Maryse hissed. “You could make that happen, couldn’t you?”

“It would be...not easy, for you.”

“Whatever it takes.”

Felicia shrugged. “Very well.”

She stood up and pretended to search around her desk for a moment, pushing aside tall books and small ceremonial daggers—even the one she was planning on sacrificing Maryse and the others with next week.

Finally, she “found” the amulet, and turned and presented it to Maryse.

It was a small thing—about the width of a thumb, made of dense meteorite iron, inlaid with an ancient crystal in the shape of an exploding star.

Maryse let it dangle it in her hands, eyeing it with some disbelief. “All I have to do is wear this amulet? I thought you said it would be hard.”

“Wear it?” Felicia shook her head. “No, darling. You must swallow it.”

“Swallow it?” Maryse blanched. “It’s an amulet.”

“Yes. I understand what it is. You still must swallow.”

Maryse held the thing in her hand.

“Is there like...magic, to make it go down easy?”

“It is metal and runes.” Felicia shrugged. “It will go down hard. It will stay hard. There is no getting around this. Swallow.”

With a look of fierce determination, Maryse did just that—taking the amulet in her fist and shoving it her mouth. Already prepared, Felicia gave her a glass of water to help it down. It took several swallows, Maryse's lovely face turning bright red at times—but it went down.

“Now,” said Felicia, putting her palm on Maryse's head. “I must activate it. Stay still.”

She pushed the lovely blonde all the way down on the bed, and began to chant, weaving her spell.

Maryse didn’t know it yet, but she was an integral part of Felicia’s plan. It hadn’t been intended in that way, not at first. Felicia knew she would need
someone
, and she had hoped it would be someone Caleb knew, just to make the process of drawing them all together into one place a little easier. But to have it be Caleb’s newest crush! What luck.

Bad luck for Maryse, of course, but that was the way of things. She would have fun in the meantime, Felicia had no doubt. The amulet would make Maryse all but irresistible to everyone who came across her. She would have to bypass or break down their wills, of course...but wills would be paltry, simple little things compared to the beauty that Maryse presented.

It was said in Felicia's old flesh-bound tomes that the amulet would make even the lowliest, oldest, most wart-covered scullery maid unstoppably attractive to a king. For as to what it would do to Maryse...well, Felicia was very interested in finding out.

After this ceremony...Felicia would have the Enchantress-Queen fully ready—the last of the components. Then, it would just be a matter of time until the Solstice Festival.

With a few elaborate and intentional waves of her hands, Felicia finished the ceremony.

Maryse rose with an intense look on her face—her eyes even brighter than before, her whole aura practically shining. Felicia was immune to the effects of the charm spell, but that didn’t mean the physical enhancements it came with were lost on her. Maryse’s breasts were larger and fuller—straining against her tiny shirt. Her incredible body was even tighter and thinner, her hair thicker and longer—she looked like a living fairy.

“I can
feel
it,” said Maryse. “I can
feel
the power coursing through my veins!”

She gripped the nearby writing desk and broke it in half with a swat of her wrist.

Felicia put on her best look of concern, trying to mask her annoyance. She liked that desk. Oh well...she could fix it later.

“People with too much power...they can go mad,” Felicia said, hoping she sounded worried. “The skill you are showing, so quickly...please. I ask for assurances that you won’t abuse this. It’s important. This is why I worry about Caleb. He—” Felicia stopped suddenly, overacting her surprise. “I’ve said too much.

“No,” said Maryse, of course interested. “What do you mean?”

“He is...his power, he told you, yes? How it is so hard for it to be restrained. It’s because of his lineage. He descends from lycan rulers, somehow. He has a king’s blood inside of him.”

That was, after all, why Felicia had ordered her mother to seduce Caleb's father and marry him. Felicia needed to be close to Caleb so she could manipulate him. He was the central part of the Spell Suprema—the most integral and hard-to-find piece. All the others could be manifested—and had been.

“Whatever,” said Maryse, tossing back her beautiful hair. It was like light given solid form, shimmering through the room. “When does this enchantment take full effect?”

Felicia shrugged. “It should not be very long.”

“Great!” Maryse gave Felicia a peck on the cheek. “I'll catch you later, darling. Thanks for all the help. Deborah's waiting, though, so I've just
got
to go.”

And just like that, Maryse left.

Felicia approached her window and watched the car outside as Maryse approached the redhead—that must be Deborah.

Deborah had adopted a pose of sullen dejection while she waited, clearly thinking she was meant for better things. The sunlight in her hair only made it seem all the more red—almost golden—her beautifully freckled skin so pale and clean. She was clearly a virgin (clearly to someone like Felicia, at any rate), and also probably already more than a bit in love with Maryse.

So, when Deborah saw Maryse walking out of the house, her jaw dropped. She fell to her knees. Tears starting forming in her eyes. With a quick wave of her fingers, Felicia was able to hear their exchange easily.

“M-Maryse?”

“Yes, yes,” said Maryse. “I know. You’ve been waiting. Let’s go.”

“M-Maryse...” Deborah stammered. “I l-love you, and um, can we please, I mean, it’s my birthday, a-and...”

Maryse stopped, smiling predatorily at Deborah’s new composure. Her hands drifted down Deborah's neck.

“You love me, is that right?”

“Yes, Mistress. I adore you, Mistress. May I touch you, please?”

Maryse took her hand, guiding it toward the sumptuous curves of her body. “Go on, then.”

With a soft, aching moan, Deborah indulged, her mouth contorting and even beginning to drool a bit. Touching Maryse was a religious experience for her, it seemed like. Felicia was, she had to admit, more than a bit surprised. She expected Maryse to excel with the amulet, but this was even a bit extreme.

It was no matter. Let the beautiful babe have her fun. It would be delightful to watch her.

With a happy giggle, Maryse pulled Deborah into the car—taking the backseat, this time. Treating her like a chauffeur.

Felicia couldn’t help but smile. The power Maryse had wouldn’t last past the Solstice, of course...but it was fun to watch her use it. The girl had a flair for being in charge, that was certain.

* * * * *

I
t was eleven at night and the party at Danny Sanderson's house had grown to a nice, comfortable raging good time. Three games of beer pong were set up in the expansive basement, and only a few pieces of furniture had been broken—all of it easily replaceable. Stress levels were low. It was exactly what Caleb wanted.