Transformed! Nine Magically Erotic Stories (35 page)

As it happened, this was useful, because they could see with ease as a small red sedan pulled up. The three lycans with Josef sat up immediately, sniffing the air excitedly. Barely human, mostly feral, these lycans always had mating on their mind.

It was no wonder why the sudden tantalizing scent excited them. Spicy, sweet. Hell, it excited Josef—and then a busty, beautiful young brunette woman with amazing curves stepped out of the sedan, matching her luscious scent. She wore a tight blue skirt and a cleavage-baring white peasant-style blouse, gorgeous black heels decorating her feet. Josef, immediately, found himself wanting her.

Trepidation on her face, the young woman—eighteen years old, he guessed—approached Felicia’s house. Every step was slow, a bit wandering, as if she were examining the house, looking for something.

“Do we go?” Malcolm asked, hitting Josef's arm. “I think we should go after her.”

“Quiet,” said Josef. “We’re just watching. She may be harmless.”

She examined the house further, stepping closer in toward its hedges. Slowly, her hands curled into fists at her sides, and she started to lean into the house—lean almost all the way over. With her bust, it was a sort of comical image—how could her ankles support all that weight? It was like something was pushing back against her, keeping her up. Maybe the house itself; maybe some kind of defense mechanism.

Just as slowly as she leaned forward, the girl began to be pushed back more and more, as if her whole body was in an arm-wrestling match with some unseen force. This continued until finally, with a small cry, she collapsed. All the energy swept out of her.

“I think she was trying something,” said Malcolm. “Some kind of magic. Some kind of breaking magic.”

Josef frowned. Malcolm was the most sensitive among the four lycans to magic and their types—probably why he had taken so well to Felicia’s training of his psyche.

“Mistress said,” said Malcolm. “She said anyone we wanted, we could take, so long as they were interfering.”

“Yes,” Josef said glumly.

He could almost taste the hot, alpha male arousal coming off of them in thick waves of lust. Josef didn't approve of the way the members of his gang treated women...but he could hardly do much about it. At least the women generally seemed to enjoy it.

“She’s interfering,” said Malcolm. “Are you saying we can’t take her?”

Felicia had implemented the rule as a way to keep the Moondogs in line. Part of her enchantment seemed to have something to do with devolving the werewolves—they understood pack mentalities. And as animalistic beings, they understood mating purely as a ritual of taking. Josef was able to keep them in line, barely.

But, they were right. This was one of the allowances they had from Felicia: taking any girl that tried to interfere.

She had even given them two girls to play with at their leisure: Sarah and Tabitha, both of them beauties. Oh, sure, they were really enslaved to that kid Caleb—that was probably permanent. Felicia had unleashed some old-timey blood magic for that trick. But in the meantime, Felicia had convinced the two that it was Caleb's will that they do anything the Moondogs ask.

“Fine,” Josef said finally, shaking his head. “But make it quick.”

For the girl’s sake, he hoped she liked being taken, hard and brutally. The Moondogs were not known for their gentleness.

Bikes roaring to life, they rode down to Felicia's house, Josef in the rear.

Josef stayed on his bike, watching as the other three howled and hooted, slapping each other on the back as they parked and stepped onto the lawn.

The girl saw the three bikers approaching, and tried to crawl away back to her car. Whatever she had done to the house had left her weak and unable to walk. Terror was scrawled on her face. She had no illusions about what was on their mind.

And Josef? Would he stay there, obediently, letting this happen?

He would. The girl shouldn’t have interfered with Felicia. She should have known better. There was a way to this world, and she was going to learn it.

* * * * *

F
elicia, aligning a few potions for use during the Solstice the following day, saw the entire event on her lawn unfolding itself through her bedroom window. Enjoying the sound of Lauren's panicked, angry screams, she turned to admire herself in the nearby mirror.

The young witch was, in a word, stunning. If she was to use several words, she would be able to go on all day about her gorgeous mass of dark hair, her intensely green eyes, the angelically-carved features of her face, the supermodel-quality of her legs, her wide, flaring hips or her ample bust.

All of this intense sexuality was contained, barely, in a slender, form-clinging green gown. The v-neck of the gown plunged deep, showing off the generous gap of her abundant cleavage, highlighted again by a series of charms and pendants dangling there.

As soon as she noticed the look on Lauren's face as she approached the house, Felicia knew the stubborn young woman was going to do her honest best to break the enchantments around the house. Somehow, she must have figured out her power. Possibly, if Felicia hadn’t been there to counter her attack, it would have been effective.

The girl’s magic was slippery, strange. It seemed weak, only it wasn’t...it was just...slight.

The tendrils of Felicia’s magical power weaved and threaded like steel cords, tight and impenetrable. Not a single witch alive—nor even many of them combined—would be able to match the artistry of Felicia's spell weaving, nor would they be able to break her enchantments without the effort of many hours.

But Lauren’s power? It was different. No threads, no cords, no ropes. It was like shadows of shadows, finding even the smallest crack or slip or gap and then expanding, pushing it open...

When Felicia had originally gifted Lauren with the power—a complicated affair that took a few weeks to prepare—the beautiful witch had only a small understanding of the nature of the gift. Her understanding in the subsequent weeks had not improved, knowing mostly only that Lauren’s position as a totemic Priestess was essential to the ceremony that would make her the most powerful magical being in the universe.

This was one of Felicia’s weaknesses, she knew. She had an immense wealth of experience—she could craft a superbly designed love potion, for instance, without a second thought, grabbing ingredients almost by autopilot. But that was the entire problem. She could
let
herself design or build or enchant many things, but she did not know the
why
of most of it beyond the small amount of basics that her mother had bothered to teach her.

This hadn’t bothered Felicia in the past. She had shrugged it off, knowing she would soon be the Suprema, and that all knowledge and experience in this realm would be offered up to her on a plate. But now, with Lauren’s crafty, slight shadows creeping in and threatening to unravel all her craft, Felicia felt doubt creeping in as well.

Perhaps that was part of Lauren’s power. Confidence was one of the major factors of a successful witch, after all.

Felicia attributed her own confidence greatly when it came to her own success. She certainly had quite a lot to be confident about. Looking once more in the mirror, she gave herself another gorgeous green-eyed wink.

Outside, Lauren had started to scream louder—much more scared than angry, now.

Probably they would take her; no, she reconsidered—definitely they would. Viciously, mercilessly.

Felicia sighed.

Oh, very well
.

In short order, she had stepped downstairs and then outside to address the bikers.

“Stop,” said Felicia, holding up her hands.

Malcolm was already pulling down his pants, his cock exposed and held over Lauren's body. The curvy brunette had only a torn blouse and ripped skirt left on her body.

“But,” Malcolm looked confused. “Mistress...she was...”

“I said to stop. Are you questioning me? Is that what you do, now?”

Malcolm looked down. “No, Mistress. Of course not, Mistress.”

It was a strange sight indeed, seeing the heavily muscled Malcolm back down so quickly. It was strange even to hear him refer to Felicia as his Mistress at all—it was too submissive a word to attribute to such an established masculine presence.

But, Felicia deserved his submission. She deserved everyone’s, in fact. She could see Josef in the distance, smiling with approval.

She resented that immediately. As if she needed his approval. He had no idea how easy he was to take—the fool honestly thought his will was beyond her power! It was not. No one’s was, not truly. She simply wouldn’t be able to take him without destroying all the good parts of his mind as well...and she could control the gang leader anyway.

“Continue your guard,” she said, petting Malcolm's head. “You're all doing a very good job. Keep it up, and I may give you a kiss, later.”

Probably not, but they didn't know that. The hint of affection was more than enough to keep them satisfied for weeks, so deep was their bond. Malcolm and the other Moondogs whooped and hollered to one another as Josef started up his bike and retreated back to his spot on the hill.

Using a bit of magic to assist her, Felicia took Lauren inside and repaired her clothes, the threads intertwining and healing into one another. A simple thing.

They arrived in the kitchen, which had been mostly unused ever since Felicia had kicked her stepfather and mother out. Felicia could apparate most of her food now with hardly any effort at all—and why worry about cooking food when she could just make it appear?

For the sake of appearances, she searched through the cabinets and came across some cocoa for Lauren. She set a spoon and a glass to making it, and then approached Lauren—who had sat down silently, empty-eyed, at the table.

“You’re pretty...” Felicia murmured, stroking Lauren’s face. “I hadn’t really gotten a good look at you. But oh yes, very pretty.”

Lauren was suspicious immediately. “What are you planning?”

Felicia arced an eyebrow—clearly surprised. “And who says I’m planning anything?”

“Aksana said it. And I know something is up. It’s too weird, too focused what’s happening. Maryse being deified, Caleb losing more and more control...me with whatever I’ve got happening. Too weird! And I can see the enchantments around your house. Your parents aren’t home, and Caleb certainly isn’t behind it. It must be you.”

Aksana...wasn't that the huntress? Must be. So, Maryse had gotten a hold of her...and then Lauren broke Maryse's enchantment. Interesting.

The cocoa was ready—the spoon already retreating to the sink to be washed. Felicia smiled and retrieved the glass, handing it to Lauren. Giving it a distasteful eye, Lauren placed it on the table and then touched it no more.

Felicia shrugged elegantly. “I’m impressed. Little Miss Perfectionist is good for something other than organizing bake sales and studying.”

Lauren just frowned at her.

Oh yes, Felicia knew her own face was saying—I know all about you, little one. All the fundraisers and extra planning and big perfect plans for life. And I can break it all apart, too.

With the Summer Solstice just one day away, Felicia knew that there was no possible way Lauren could stop her—unless she convinced all the other components of the Spell to not show up. Even if that
were
to happen somehow, it was possible Felicia could get the Moondogs to track them all down, but that would be quite an effort.

No, the simplest thing to do was simply give Lauren what she wanted—information—and to make her feel important. This worked on everyone, in Felicia's experience.

“Well, all right.” Felicia summoned a chair and sat down directly across from Lauren. “Since you asked—I’m planning to unleash the Spell Suprema. You can’t stop me. Frankly...I don’t see why anyone would want to. I deserve the power of the Suprema.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Of course.” Felicia chuckled. “It’s a very powerful spell. It requires several parts, several people participating. The Priestess, that's you. Then the Beast King, the Warrior, the Enchantress Queen, and the Slave. It will make me immortal and beautiful forever. And powerful too, yes.”

A soft, tiny little moan escaped Lauren's mouth—almost imperceptible.

Felicia began to smile, understanding the sound right away.

Lauren clearly was trying to keep her poker face...but Felicia could tell all she wanted to do was look at Felicia's gorgeous body. She was surprised, in fact, that she hadn't noticed it before—Lauren was bisexual. Heavily so.

In fact, judging from that moan, Lauren was a natural submissive. How delightful! This would be easier than she thought.

Felicia knew Lauren’s power was unpredictable...varied. But she also could now see the signs of easy, happy submission written all over her, as easily as someone else might see a traffic light on a road. All Felicia had to do was tug at those strands of servility—and she didn’t even need magic to do it.

She leaned forward, staring at Lauren with admiration on her face. “You’re very special, you know.”

“I...I-I am?”

“Of course. Not just anybody could be the Priestess for the Spell Suprema. It takes...certain aptitudes.” She put a soft, feminine hand on Lauren’s knee, pushing it upward.

“A-aptitudes?” Lauren started breathing hard, clearly enjoying Felicia's touch.

“Certainly.” Felicia nodded sagely, her thick hair falling down onto Lauren's arm and chest. “What I did? What I did, to give you the power you have now? It was very old, very powerful magic...but it unleashed what you already had. Caleb as well.”

Felicia pushed her face closer and closer to Lauren's, just almost kissing her...and then slid instead down to her knees, letting her heavy tits slide across Lauren’s lap.

“W-what are you doing?” Lauren's voice had become very small.

Without asking for permission, Felicia evaporated Lauren's panties, and then slipped her fingers up and into the curvy babe's already wet pussy. Lauren's head tilted back, and she moaned with pleasure.

“Wouldn’t it be so hot, Lauren baby, serving the prettiest babe in the whole world? Being my
favorite
servant? I’ll make you prettier too. Won’t that be nice of me?”