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The Curtain

By: Gethelred



This story is meant to be told, not read. So, if you would, please read this out loud, as you would poetry.



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I fell, and through the clouds and the light I pondered. It would be some time before I confronted the Devil, and spoke words to him condemning myself to travesty. 

I thought of my life; of the pleasures and the grief. I ruled it all; a brilliant general, a good husband. A tolerable father, but to me a good father is the worst burden one can possess. 

Better a bad one, for a son can rise to defy his father, can defeat the false impressions of those preceding him, and become great. No, for my son, I would be tolerable, for in being tolerable I am a father to him; something to be both admired and feared, someone to surpass and strive toward. 

I scarcely could hear the wind, rushing around me. It was everything; a great piecing noise, obliterating all thought, and it was nothing, simple to dismiss, effortless to ignore. I thought of her, my mistress, soon to be my widow. She loved me simply; difficult to love greatness. I was a burden on her, but not the way of the invalid. No, greatness is pressing on a spouse; hard to love something regarded as brilliant, difficult to see the humanity. No, she loved me; far, far better than all the women who worshipped me, than the men who were in awe. She stood beside me as I spoke to millions, and heard their resounding cheer. Silent and grim; most would say austere, as is generally the case with women. But she was grim, her face lined with the force and the weight of my troubles, with the heft of being my wife.

Given that I am selfish, I know why I took her; I wanted her, and I took her. Never mind that she loved me in return; I knew of the life she would lead, of the pain and the anguish she would endure, if she could. And now, she is to outlive me; there is humour in that, but not irony. I fully comprehend how she could live longer, despite my ability, my brilliance.

The earth smelt wonderful, as I passed through it; grass and dust. Gemstones and rust. It penetrated me, surrounded me, encompassed me. I had always thought death to be painful, the rot and the absence unendurable. To be apart from everything. To live either in a void or a swirling pit of burning rock- for make no mistake, hell is what waits for me- sound neither like alternatives. Pain or nothing. Dissolution. End.

No noise now. Not silence, or anything separate. Simply, nothing. Not like the Void; more, simply the absence of sound. 

I opened my eyes; I sat at a table, carved of beautiful white marble, on a chair of carved stone. It was delicate, and too complex to have human origin. My sight could not follow the intricacy, and the whole chair was a singular piece of stone. 

The room itself was very beautiful. Tall columns adorned the walls, creating an arch over the doors. There were two in here; one was covered by a luxurious red curtain, the colour rich and unbelievably vibrant. The other was down a small corridor, and one could scarcely see it from the chair.

Opposite me was a woman. I won't give you the cliché that she was anywhere between eighteen and seventy; this woman was young, younger than me. She was perfect, a sliver stature in a gown of deepest black. Her eyes were not empty, but nor were they full. What they contained could not have been sympathy; for her to have felt sympathy, she could not have been who she was. Empathy, maybe, and resolute. That was her, I believe; resolute. Looks of the most beautiful stone, and as rigid and as unbendable. 

She looked at me, directly, and called me by my name. 

Yes, I answered her.

She spoke to me, but I cannot remember the words. I can remember their meanings; hope, and light, and infinite deepness. No black. Not heaven. No fire.

I wondered then, to her, about the religion. Her face did not change, but she was dismissive. She told me of those that came before me; those that held their crucifix out, to ward her off. She never reacted, never changed. Her gaze hardened, and I shivered at her expression. 

All that emotion, and without changing her face. She was immaculate, immovable. I asked her something, something she told me no-one had asked before me, nor any after.

I asked her if I could stay there, with her, and watch as the dead came by.

She was not surprised, but I could see the shock; as with the rest of her emotion, it dwelt within her eyes. She asked me why; why would I choose to linger here, instead of being placed upon the path to another life, another time?

I told her things she already knew; the story of my life, the battles I fought and won, mingled with those I lost. I told her of my subtle cruelty, and of my negligence of that which really mattered. Then I told her how she intrigued me; her left eyebrow shot up at that. 

Her lips curved, and I saw the only smile I have ever seen from her. 

I stayed, and watched. I kept her company, as we waited. She never needed rest, or sleep. She never read a book, nor used the door down the corridor, which led to a bedroom and a kitchen; a library and a bathing room. I used it all; brought her food, and meats that I found whenever I wanted it there. I learnt to prepare it; at the beginning, all I could do was roast a deer, but I learnt. 

I saw, as she greeted them. Other spirits, noteworthy and menial. Foolish, and genius. She was the same for them all. Unsmiling, yet welcome; distant, but understanding. 

She asked me after some time, did I still wish to stay there, with her?

I nodded, as I put down the tray.

She asked me again, why?

I said to her, as I had before, you intrigue me. 

She took into her hands the knife and fork, and ate; I could not tell whether or not she enjoyed it, but she ate it all. 

She then told me to eat with her; bring food and wine, and dine with her, never by myself. 

I nodded, satisfied.

She only rarely took time to eat. I plotted my meals around her, only eating when she could. Sometimes, there was conversation, which was generally one way; I would talk, of my cooking, of my life, of the books I took down from the library. She would ask me questions about them; had I found the books which contained methods of cooking, should I wish to cook something different? Did I enjoy the works contained therein? 

She asked me to describe my wife, and my family. I told her what I could; my disastrous first wife, and her lovers; my second wife, who both had and had never cared. But my mistress, who bore me a son and a daughter, who loved me. Who was my wife, in my heart; another's, in actuality.

I described to her my triumphs, and my weaknesses. I was amazed at her; when she stood, she was perfect for me, never too tall or short. I often became lost in my stories, reliving as I told them. 

At the end of each, she would look at me sadly, as though by my word I was losing all of this, and she was the agent of that. But she never asked me that question.

I watched, as my mistress walked through; a bitter woman, broken. Her husband died, her children old, and of a lineage far greater than her. A victim of my want. 

To my credit, I greeted her. I offered to share a meal; a meal betwixt us, us three. 

She refused, vehemently. She denied me, and left the room through the arch, and slipped behind the velvet curtain.

She turned to me, and asked of me, would you follow her? There, she would accept you?

I shook my head, and brought out the duck I had prepared. She looked at it, before looking back at me.

Why?

I smiled, and told her. 

You intrigue me.

She ate, and I watched, not really hungry.

We continued. I saw my children, and my grandchildren pass through the arch, and behind the curtain. I never let them see me. She asked me why; I told her that they would not know me. To them, I would be just a name.

I cannot tell you when it changed. It was nothing perceptible; her face still remained the same, and she still rarely stopped, watching and guiding people through the door, but she rose from her chair, and aided me, in my cooking. She asked me if there were any good novels; I gave them to her. I watched as she read them, as she watched me, as I slept. 

I was in the kitchen, the first time. I never heard her, nor the door open, but I felt her hand against my spine. It was not hard, nor cold; warm, and lovely, and I arched into her touch; a cat against its owner's hand. Her hand crept up to my shoulder, and turned me around, only exerting enough force to do just that. 

Her eyes were twin pools, and her lips, those beautiful, full, decadent, immobile lips, brought themselves closer, ever near. 

I closed my eyes as she touched me, and pressed her lips into mine.

It was like I had never kissed before; every word and feeling I had felt during life was woeful in description. Her mouth drew mine, and I held her as her tongue caressed mine, her hands against my shoulders and my back. I lost myself in her touch, in her mouth, in the liquid fire I felt within her, burning through me, as I wanted.

She broke the kiss, and left me to my cooking.

It was not that I loved her, or that I found her interesting. It was not the memory of that kiss, the kiss that defined my existence. It was something else. 

It could have been that she never told me if she approved or disapproved of me, or of my life. How I treated women and men, and the lives and belongings of others. Or morals, and my lack of them. She did intrigue me, but I never knew why. 

I brought her food, and she ate it all. When I went to leave, she took my wrist into her hand, and sat me back down.

She began to talk; how she could not remember how the room came to be, nor when the corridor and the curtain were added- she was certain they were. She knew without words how she was to guide those who came here through the curtain; if she wished it, she could expel any who she desired to. She told me she was not, was never truly aware of time, or of herself, until I came. 

She did not wish to keep me here, against my will. She was different now; she had read of the books, and eaten. She knew the comforts of sleeping. She could cook. She would not go back, to being the way she was before. 

She then said, I thank you, but now you must pass on, behind the curtain.

I shook my head.

This is serious, she told me, her expression not changing. I can make you leave. You must pass on.

I shook my head, and stood back. She stood up, before me, her mouth opening and speaking words, as her eyes told me something different.

She continued to tell me to leave, and I continued to deny her. She never gave in to me, never allowed herself to weaken.

I said to her, I do not want to leave. 

I saw the hint of a smile behind her eyes, before it eclipsed into sadness. 

But you must, she said.

I sat down, opposite her seat. I stayed there, rigid, silent. She watched me, and waited.

A soul came in, sitting down on the chair. It asked me questions, and I gave answers; the questions were meaningless to me, as were the answers. I didn't smile, or frown. 

He did not want to go behind the curtain. I told him, you must. I pointed at it, and spoke to him. Go.

He moved, his legs unwilling, his face screwed up. He shivered as he looked at me, and as he passed behind the curtain I saw it billow. 

Behind it was a beautiful place, full of sun. I caught a trickle of sunlight, and the sound of laughter and running water. The smell of fresh baking, mixed with the sea. 

I continued, never realising when she left, or where she went. Others came, and went. I saw how she became an automaton. I felt myself grow stiff, as I never moved.

I cannot remember the first time she brought me food. Her form was as I remembered it, but softer, less severe. Her face was no longer expressionless, or remote. Her eyes were no longer merely descriptive, but luminous. I felt it all come back to me; warmth, expression. I opened myself to her, and smiled.

She placed food in front of me, and watched as I ate it. She still didn't smile, but she breathed in the air, and drank the wine. She spoke to me, about the books she had read, about the dreams she had. She loved cooking, and told me she would bring me something oriental. I ate mechanically, listening more than consuming. 

When she rose to leave, I took her hand in mine; she was warmer, far warmer, than me. I brought her to me, and kissed her fiercely. She returned my passion, her hand wrapping around my neck, her gown toying at the front.

I carried her away, to her bed. Like stone, I was stiff, and sore. But I wanted her, had wanted from the second I saw her. 

She gasped as my mouth found her neck, kissing over the delicacy of her collarbone. She tasted of roses, as her hands coiled in my hair. My hands covered her form, dwelling on her legs; twin columns of marble, yet so very soft. There was no hair on them, something I was not used to.

I parted her legs, as I bore her backwards. I lay atop her, feeling her writhe against me, sinking as she kissed me, moaning. I worked my hand between her legs, and felt for her centre. 

Her dress was wonderfully flexible, curving to her shape, further than it should. I could feel her moisture through the thinness of it, yet it was thick as it hid her breasts from me.

I corrected that, baring her chest for my mouth. I sought her, lifting her frame off the bed. She burned, her mouth at my ear, panting. She wanted now, and was beyond words.

Her hands found the entrance to my pants, and cupped me through them. I found myself wearing a garment not dissimilar to hers, and thus the material allowed her to caress me fully, wonderfully, through them. Her fingertips worked their way around my manhood, and I groaned into her mouth.

I cannot remember taking my clothing off, or is she did the same, but she guided me inside. She was wonderful, amazing. Sex is nothing; love is nothing. I could not then- and cannot now- vocalise simply how she was. She rose above me, and thrust with a passion I could not match, despite my desire. Her thrusts were mine, as mine were hers. 

We did not stop; she continued to move, and I held her as she bucked and screamed, and I stayed there, inside her, burning from the most intense heat. She clenched, she pleaded, she wrapped me in herself so tight I thought she would break me. I was never finished, never needed to stop.

She slowed, and she pushed me back, before curling up on top of me. She left me within her, and I stayed. I did not sleep.

I did the job then she did. We shared the role, food. We shared a bed. We loved. 

She stopped sleeping, and spent her time escorting people. She stayed soft, and was less remote, but she ate only sparingly. When she slept, it was only for me, or to be with me. She wanted, therefore she got. 

She rarely spoke. I closed my mouth, and made her food. She looked at me oddly, as she ate, as though trying to remember who I was. She became hard; her face became the same as the stone around her, and her eyes lost the humanity she had gained. 

I remember sitting down, watching, as she forwarded another past the curtain. She turned to me. 

Go, she said, and her hand lifted, guiding me out.

I rose, against myself. I tried to look back, tried to physically break her hold. She stopped, just before I entered the arch, and parted the curtain. 

Why would you fight this? Are you not willing to go on?

I shook my head. No; you intrigue me still.

She nodded, and her impassivity crumbled. Me too.

She raised her arm again; as I left, I saw the tear leave her eye.

It never hit the ground.

The Curtain, and Other Oddities



Hey, so: thanks for reading. This is my first time submitting to the site. If you're into it and would be interested in seeing more like it, voting for it or otherwise boosting it would be among many ways to let me know.

This is a pretty long story; I think it's all worth reading, but if you're in a rush, the sex peaks in Part Three. It's all nominally consensual, but may tic off some non-con boxes with magical charms and assortedly poor kink/consent practice. Don't try this at home.

Enjoy!

OVERTURE: MORNING ROUTINE

I was woken up by the guys upstairs blasting a dubstep remix of "Spooky Scary Skeletons." Which meant it was Halloween, I guess.

It was 9:30 AM. Too early to get up, too late to get back to sleep, and I wasn't allowed to jerk off while Lucy was asleep anymore. I settled for staring at her uncovered back in the bed next to me. Lucy, my girlfriend of, Jesus, eleven months now?, was Vietnamese-Chicagoan, on the swim team, and used some kind of special creamy-perfect-skin soap. Her back was all muscles and little curves and creamy perfect skin. Lucy slept like a log, always on her side facing the wall, so just looking at her had become part of my morning routine. I contentedly nudged my morningwood into the cleft of her asscrack and brushed her hair back from her neck.

"Mmmffff," groaned Lucy, pressing her ass against my cock.

"We're so sorry, skeletons," came the music from upstairs. "You're so misunderstoooood / You only want to socialize / but I don't think we shooooould!"

Lucy rolled onto her back and pulled me in for a kiss, eyes still closed. Her tits wobbled back and forth for a second before settling into their resting position. "Happy hall'ween," she mumbled.

"Happy Halloween, love. Go back to sleep," I whispered. It was worth being quiet, even with the music blaring, because we weren't the only ones in the room. Lucy's dorm room was a double, and we'd set up a white curtain to separate us from Lucy's roommate, Alma, and her girlfriend, Siobhan. It wasn't ideal--from a certain perspective--to house two extremely sexually active couples in one room with only a bedsheet protecting our modesty, but my roommate was a slob and Siobhan's roommate was a homophobe, so we'd all gotten used to it.

Siobhan, at least, was awake. I could tell from her shadow on the curtain--her preposterous Jessica Rabbit silhouette rising from the bed and stretching its arms out. We were only two months into the school year, but I'd given up on trying not to stare weeks ago. It was worse at night--Alma's side of the room was lit with one of those bendy, five-bulb lamps, arranged so that the girls' bed was between the lamp and the curtain. The lamp was like a film projector--when Alma and Siobhan were fucking, their silhouettes were burnt onto the curtain from several different angles, creating a sort of kaleidoscopic orgy effect. And they were both loud when they went at it.

There was no way everyone didn't understand how erotic this setup was for me, though we didn't really talk about it. It was probably the same for Siobhan, who was bi, if not for Alma and Lucy, who were exclusively gay and straight, respectively. But Lucy's friends were all sort of weirdly comfortable around each other--girls are just like that, maybe--and the longer I hung around them, the more comfortable they were with me, too.

All for the best, since the only door out of the room was on Alma's side. I kissed Lucy again, got up from the bed, cinched a towel around my erection as subtly as I could, and knocked on the wall. "I wanna shower and get to breakfast," I said. "You decent?"

"Ten seconds," said Siobhan. "We'll probably see you at breakfast. They're making the thing with the pumpkin stuff, right?"

"Hence wanting to show up early, yeah." The Siobhan-shadow interacted with something that looked like a robe, and then signalled an all-clear. I pulled the sheet back and tried to look at anything but my girlfriend's friend in that one robe she always wears. Under the covers of the other bed was a small, fetal lump--this was Alma. "Happy Halloween," I said, trying to reach the door while keeping my erection out of sight.

"Happy Halloween, Chris," said Siobhan. In that voice that she does that comes out of that body that she has under that robe that she wears. "We'll see you at The Thing later, if we skip breakfast."

"Yeah."

"Everyone's so loud," came a squeak from the bed.

"Hush," said Siobhan, sitting back down on the bed and putting a hand on a part of the lump that might have been a forehead or an ass. "You've done your share of loud."

"Lies."

I pulled the door shut, wide awake now. Sexual tension was better than coffee.

I didn't masturbate in the shower. I wasn't clear on what exactly The Thing was, but a part of me was hoping it would give me an outlet for my sexual energy. Some sort of annual tradition among Lucy's friends. God only knows what a coven of college-girl witches gets up to on Halloween.

ONE: A THESIS IN OPTICS

It was senior year. I'd completed all of the basic requirements for the physics major and I was starting to piece together my thesis. Long story short, it's on optics. Light and color. Not a fashionable topic, but I liked it because it was the same sort of question Isaac Newton was banging his head against three hundred-some years ago. What happens when we look at something? That's only a broad, quasi-philosophical abstraction of what I'm actually doing, but it was the question on my mind all day. It was October. The trees were all red and orange and the girls were all wearing sweaters now (except, God help me, the ones who were already wearing costumes). Quintillions of photons were bouncing around off everything at odd angles and making everything visible to each other, which is how we know where we are and what's in here with us. On the subatomic level, looking at something is pretty much the same thing as touching it.

Classes, lunch, lab, and an early (light) dinner at 4:30. Whatever The Thing was, I knew that it didn't involve food, and that I was supposed to come in costume. The costume was easy enough. I had one halloween costume that had lasted me all through college, and all the components were in my room: red sunglasses, polo shirt with the little X, black pants, nice shoes, parted hair, stiff upper lip. And so to the corner room.

"The corner room" belonged to Kate and Gabby, the other two members of the coven. It was the girls' usual platonic hangout spot because it was the biggest double in the building. Also, due to some quirk of architecture, it had five walls; it wasn't quite a perfect pentagram, but that had to appeal to the witches' aesthetic sense.

I was the last one to show up. Lucy slapped the spot between her and Gabby on Gabby's bed. It wasn't a very wide spot. I squeezed in and leaned cautiously towards my girlfriend; no complaint, because this was the first I was seeing in Lucy in her full Black Widow costume. The skintight jumpsuit with the zipper down to a few inches above the navel; the prop gun strapped suggestively to the inside of her thigh; the elbow-length red wig. I love Lucy's natural hair, which is a sort of shiny black, but there's something about that red wig, you know? Of course, everything was red through my glasses. But still.

Lucy kissed my earlobe. "Hello, lover," she said in a middling (but still hot) Russian accent. Then, in her normal voice: "How was your day?"

"Spooktacular," I said.

"I'm glad."

Gabby wrapped a hand around my forearm, drawing my attention from my girlfriend. "So who are you supposed to be?"

I had to catch my breath for a few seconds before answering. Gabby's costume, as far as I could tell, was just fetish gear. Corset, thigh-high boots, fingerless gloves, short-shorts, and a collar around her neck--all of it leather. And Gabby was a woman you had to take a second look at even if you caught her in a hoodie and sweatpants. She was Italian, with the Mediterranean tan and the poofy dark-brown hair with the blond highlights, and the big eyes and those lips and the Jersey Shore sort of curves, if that makes sense.

I lowered a hand to Lucy's thigh for support and tried to keep it cool. "I'm Cyclops," I answered. "The leader of the X-Men?"

Gabby rolled her eyes. "Decided you didn't have the hair for a Wolverine costume?" she asked.

"Well, Cyclops is sexier."

I stopped myself from talking there, but, to digress: Cyclops is a highly misunderstood character. The best superheroes are metaphors, right? The Hulk is about PTSD, the Flash represents the postmodern condition, whatever. Cyclops is a straight white male for whom looking at someone is an act of violence. His power is always turned on. He has to hold it back with filtered glasses just so he doesn't literally stare holes through women. I can relate.

Another thing about Cyclops: there are a ton of beautiful women who are attracted to him, and all of them are mind readers. So he's trying to hold his energy in, but every woman who hears the fucked-up thoughts in his head decides that she wants him.

Isn't that interesting?

Failing to conceal a gasp, Lucy stopped my hand from sliding too far up and inwards on her thigh. "Hey, nerd," she said, recovering. "You got a ruling on whether there are supposed to be two Black Widows?"

She glared at Kate, who, awkwardly, was also wearing a Black Widow costume. About the only advantage Kate's costume had over Lucy's was that it didn't need a wig--her hair was dyed red from its natural blond. Beyond that, Kate, for all that she's supposed to be the most powerful witch in the group, just couldn't pull off the superhero look. I really like all of Lucy's friends, but Kate is the only one who I wouldn't fuck given the slightest opportunity. So I would have loved to take Lucy's side on this, but: "Yeah, there are two Black Widows. Kate should have been the evil blonde one. Coordinate better next time."

"We coordinated," said Lucy. "I've been planning this outfit since summer. Everyone knew that."

Hoping to de-escalate the conflict, I turned back toward Gabby. "So what's your costume?" I asked, staring it up and down. "Ana from Fifty Shades?"

Gabby retched. "I'm insulted," she said. "For one thing, Ana isn't--oh." She ripped my glasses off. "There."

"Oh." For a moment everything was green--except Gabby's skin, where it shone through the fetish outfit. She was bright blood-red, head to toe. Whether it was just paint or a glamour, it was an impressive job. And now that I finally found the willpower to lift my eyes above her corset region, I noticed the two little horns sticking out from under her hair. "You're a, uh, a... kinky demon... thing."

"Beelzebub, Devil, Satan, Mephistopheles," said Siobhan.

Alma giggled. "'Better to serve in hell, than reign in heaven,'" she intoned.

I turned my attention to the happy couple. Alma was sitting on Siobhan's lap, which was pretty normal for them. They were very affectionate with each other--in private or otherwise--and they fit well together. Siobhan, of the coven, had the best claim to the title of "superhero body." She was five foot eleven, a natural redhead, and each of her tits (also natural) was about the size of her head. She was on the basketball team, the fire-spinning group, and was lead singer in a band called Can U Not Talk Sense. There was no way she wasn't the most jerked-off-over person on campus, if not in the state.

What made Siobhan and Alma so cute together was that Alma was five foot nothing, and barely came up to Siobhan's chin while sitting on her lap. Alma had a gorgeous body--especially her ass, which could usually be seen in tights, its perfect roundness compressed a little by Siobhan's thigh--but it was all so compact. As far as I was aware, Alma had never been with a man, but I imagined that she would make a man feel tall. Plus, she did gymnastics.

I was staring at the two of them partly for the same reason I was always staring at them, and partly because I was trying to figure out if their costumes were supposed to be thematically linked. Siobhan was a mummy. She was wrapped from the neck down in what appeared to be a continuous length of something that looked like Ace bandage. There had to have been something under that, supporting her tits--how else could they possibly be holding that shape?--but I couldn't see anything. In fact, I was pretty sure I could see the prominent bump of an erect nipple on the side Alma was leaning against, suggesting that the outfit was very thin.

If Siobhan was a dead pharaoh, it stood to reason that Alma was some sort of temple girl. Her outfit was 80% jewelry, including a gold sequinned bikini top that concealed about half the volume of her breasts. The gold looked damn good against her skin, and she made jingling noises when she laughed. A soft-looking purple loincloth, front and back, concealed a minimal arc of her hips and ass. And Lucy was talking, wasn't she?

"Focus, hon," my girlfriend said, patting me condescendingly on the back. "You're about to learn some witch secrets."

"Right," I said. "So what's this Thing?"

"Mm-hmm," said Kate, pulling a box out from under her bed. "So, there's this spell we did the last two Halloweens and we're gonna do it again tonight." She opened up the box. Inside were six necklaces. with what looked like large silver coins hanging from the front. "It's a sort of... bonding exercise... trust-building kind of, um--"

"Orgiastic fuckfest," offered Lucy.

"Yeah," said Kate, blushing. "That's... that's what I was getting at."

"Oh," I said. And not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth: "Well, I mean, I'm in. How's it work?"

TWO: ORGIASTIC FUCKFEST AS SHE IS PLAYED

"Six amulets," explained Lucy. "They're charged with a desire spell that lasts from sundown to sunup on Halloween every year. They all look the same, but when the spell activates, five of them will glow black, and the other one will glow white."

The phrase "glow black" didn't make sense to me, but here's what was really getting me about all this. Did this mean Lucy had had sex with women? She'd never mentioned that to me, and she'd never shown any interest in women. I supposed if I'd turned magically gay for a night a couple of times, I would have had a hard time explaining that to her, too.

"The white amulet is a broadcaster and the black ones are receivers. Everyone who's wearing a black amulet is completely, uncontrollably attracted to the person with the white."

"Uh-huh. So one of us at random--" (that's a 16.67% chance of being me) "--is going to have a really good night."

"The last two years," said Siobhan, "everyone had a really good night."

"Renee was the sixth," added Lucy. "But she doesn't hang out with us anymore, so we talked about it and decided we should give it to you." She kissed me on the neck and nuzzled my shoulder.

"Normally, we'd never give that power to a guy," said Kate. "But we all trust you. You've always seemed... you know... in control of yourself, I guess?"

"Not creepy," added Alma.

This was the most confusing thing I'd heard all day. Had these girls not known me for the past year? Was I actually that good at hiding my constant, painful desire to group-fuck them? Was I responsible for telling them what I was really like before I let this go any further? I looked to Lucy for reassurance. She smiled teasingly. "You're going to have a lot of fun tonight," she said. She leaned onto the bed, her back arching so that her breasts pushed against the material of her catsuit. Black Widow. Dear God.

Lucy and I had always been exclusive; I've never felt like a particularly monoamorous kind of guy, but I'd taken it for granted that these were the parameters of our relationship. Now she was inviting me into this situation where (66.67% chance) I was going to be "uncontrollably attracted" to one of her friends.

"There are a few rules," said Gabby, running a red-painted finger along my shoulder to get my attention. "Rules are important.

"One: no jealousy. When the amulets are on, we aren't going to be holding to our normal relationships or attachments or even our normal sexualities. Everyone has to respect that for everyone else. We're all doing this consensually, and part of that is that we're okay with different or unexpected outcomes. Part of the fun is that this can't be predicted.

"Two: no alcohol, no drugs tonight. Everyone with a black amulet is going to be out of her mind enough, and the person with the white amulet is going to have a lot of power. She'll have to stay in control.

"Three: no trading amulets. You can take your amulet off at any point if you're all fucked out for the night, but you can't put on an amulet other than the one you drew.

"Oh, and three and a half: if things get kinky again" --here Gabby bit her knuckle and took a deep breath before continuing-- "we're all good with color safewords, right? Green for 'all good,' yellow for 'stop what you're doing,' red for 'stop altogether.'"

"Yeah," I said. Lucy and I had never needed anything beyond "stop," but I got the feeling we weren't quite on Gabby's level with that stuff. "Yeah to everything. It all sounds good. How long until sunset?"

"Half an hour-ish," said Siobhan. "Everyone's going to pick an amulet, and then we'll go back to our beds and wait for it to start. We tried being all in the same room when it started, and that got sort of overwhelming."

"I almost drowned," remembered Alma fondly. She squeezed Siobhan's waist and kissed her passionately.

Everyone drew an amulet out of the box in counterclockwise order starting with Gabby, so I got second pick. I grabbed one that looked a little paler and shinier than the others; I felt pretty good about my choice. Alma and Siobhan put their amulets on each other and then Siobhan carried Alma, bridal-style, out of the room.

I must have watched them a little too long, because Gabby said, "Get off my bed, you perverts." She wrapped her amulet twice around her neck, so it fit like a choker just under the leather collar. "I have to gather some materials, and you're in the way."

"Right," I said. "Sorry." I stood, took Lucy by the hand, and pulled her off the bed. To Lucy I asked: "When she said I had to go to 'our beds,' that doesn't mean my bed my bed, right? Cause--"

"You're coming with me, Cyclops." Lucy smiled and gave my cock a quick rub through my pants. Gabby was still right there. Before I found my words, she pulled me out of the corner room and back toward our place.

Lucy knocked on the door. "Knock knock," she said. "You decent?" "Yeah," came Siobhan's voice. "It's gonna take us a while to get all this bandage off, so you're good for a few minutes."

Lucy opened the door. Sure enough, Alma was slowly unwrapping the bandage off of Siobhan's right arm. I felt like I'd stumbled onto something really really sensual here, but I was so wound up that I probably would have felt the same way if I'd walked in on them picking each other's noses. I pulled Lucy past them and closed the curtain behind us.

Lucy spun me around and pushed me onto the bed, kneeling on top of my crotch. "I am super horny right now," she announced, making no attempt to be quiet.

"I gathered," I replied, grabbing her hair and drawing her in for a long kiss. When we detached, I said, "You never told me you'd had sex with any of your girlfriends."

"Uh-huh." Lucy lifted my shirt over my head. "I mean, with you there was a pretty quick flip from 'Chris doesn't get to know about this' to 'this is something I really want to share with Chris and want to be a surprise.'"

"Well, I'm surprised." I caught hold of the zipper on Lucy's jumpsuit and pulled it as far down as she could go. Then I yanked one half of the suit aside. One of her nipples emerged, already erect. "Who got the white amulet the last two years?"




The Curtain, and Other Oddities



"The first year was Alma." Lucy yanked her arms out of the jumpsuit. The fabric fell uselessly behind her back. I was entranced, as always, by the sight of Lucy topless. Her neck, her shoulders, her waist. The amulet hanging between her beautiful soft tits. The tattoo: two dolphins jumping out from the surface of her hipbone. "It was a really new, exciting thing for all of us then. Siobhan thought she was straight before that night."

"Really? The amulet turned her bi, like, permanently?" I took a breast in one hand, the small of her back on the other, and pulled her against me. I loved this woman and wanted as much of her as possible to be touching me.

"I think it was more, like, oh." I was sucking on her neck. She clung to me and tried to keep talking, grinding against me with her still-jumpsuited lower half. "It just showed her a part of herself that was always, unh, there. Like, I just took a, ah! a dip into Alma, and she's been swimming around in there for, ooh, yes yes yes, for two years. Holy shit."

While nibbling on Lucy's earlobe, I took the chance to glance over her shoulder. Projected on the curtain was a scene that seemed to be developing similar to ours. In not-very-long, one of six amulets was going to light up white. I ran through the scenarios. Alma wasn't into guys, so if she led the girls in another orgy, I'd just be left watching, if that. Which was nothing to complain about. Conversely, Lucy wasn't into girls, so even with all the coven trying to jump her, she'd probably still just wind up fucking me all night. Which we were perfectly capable of doing without any magical assistance.

I grabbed her ass through the jumpsuit, hooked my other arm around her back, and threw her off of me, sending her flat on her back on the bed. Her wig came loose. I kissed my way down her torso while I slid the jumpsuit far enough down her legs to expose her clit. I gave this a couple quick kisses and then rested my chin between her thighs. "What about last year?" I asked.

Lucy squirmed. "Last year, um. Gabby got it. That was intense. Shit, I need you."

"Magic word?"

"Pleeeeease. Please please please please pl--" she was cut off by the sensation of my tongue on her clit. "Oh, fuck yes. I love you."

I couldn't respond verbally with my mouth full, but I gave her a sign that I loved her back. She screamed and wrapped her legs around my head. I loved going down on Lucy because, even with my ears muffled in thigh and my eyes on the prize, I could sense everything her body was doing. The way her back arched and she gripped the sheet with one hand, pinching her nipple with the other. The rhythm of her breath getting quicker and shallower and louder as she trended toward orgasm.

The curtain drew back.

I pulled myself off of Lucy and sat up in the bed. Lucy cupped a hand between her legs, either to cover herself or to keep up the stimulation--I couldn't tell. Standing in the middle of the room staring hungrily at Lucy were Siobhan and Alma. Alma was still in her temple girl costume; Siobhan's mummy costume had been whittled down to a layer of cloth covering her upper torso and wrapping over her shoulders. She was completely bottomless, and I had an unobstructed view of her vulva; beads of moisture that could have been wetness or sweat or Alma's spit were dripping from her (naturally red, mind) pubic hair. Both of their amulets were glowing black.

I looked down at myself. My amulet was also glowing black. Lucy's was glowing white.

"Hey," said Siobhan. "Happy Halloween."

"Hi, guys." Lucy removed her hand. She was naked except for her boots, her amulet, and a tangle of jumpsuit hanging limp off of her ankles, like a second shadow. "Happy Halloween."

"We were thinking," said Alma, "that we wanted to have a three-way with you. Like, really wanted."

Both of the girls had a sort of glazed look in their eyes. I didn't feel any different, for my part. I was unconscionably turned on, but that was normal, considering the circumstances. I unbuttoned my pants. This wasn't meant to be a signal of anything to anyone; the pants were just tight and my hard-on needed space to breathe.

"Oh," said Lucy. She took a deep breath and gripped my hand. "That'd be the, uh, the spell talking, probably."

"Probably in part, yeah," said Siobhan, her eyes on my girlfriend's tits. I didn't feel the least bit jealous.

"I don't want that, though?" Lucy made no further attempts to cover herself. "I'm straight, remember."

"Right," said Alma. There was silence in the dorm for a moment as the two girls just kept standing there. I inched toward Lucy protectively. Would the spell turn them, like, forceful? I was ready to protect her if it came to that, even though Siobhan was bigger than me and Alma seemed like she'd fight dirty.

Then Siobhan gripped Alma's shoulder and said, "Hey babe? You wanna pleasure me while I imagine you're Lucy?"

"Oh God yes," answered Alma. "But I get to pretend you're Lucy."

"Deal." They kissed and then fell back onto their bed. They didn't close the curtain behind them.

I sat silently watching Alma further wet Siobhan's pubes for a few seconds, before Lucy squeezed my hand. "You want to go shower off?" she asked. "I need to get out of here, I think."

"Sure," I said. I got my pants and underwear off, and a towel on, without closing the curtain. Alma and Siobhan didn't look like they were paying much attention to what I was up to.

Our hall had four single-stall, unisex bathrooms, ideal for privacy and water-themed sex. We locked the door behind us. "What's it feel like for you?" Lucy asked, gesturing to my amulet.

"Not like much," I said. "I don't know how I would know if it was working. Like, I really want to fuck you, but I always really want to fuck you."

"I mean, sure," said Lucy. She took her towel off and started the shower. Within a few seconds she was dripping wet all over, her hair clinging to the back of her neck. "But not that much." She looked at me again. "Right?"

I shrugged.

"Holy shit," said Lucy. "You really do want me that much, don't you? Okay, let's experiment. Amulet off." She tossed off her amulet and threw it on the sink. I did the same. "Do you feel any different?"

I took my towel off and looked down, as if consulting my penis for advice. "I kind of feel like a little bit of the tension's off?" I said. "But that could just be placebo. Maybe the spell doesn't work on boys?"

"The spell works on boys. You still want it?"

"Yes."

Lucy backed up to the far end of the shower. "Show me," she said.

So I did. I stepped into the shower and grabbed her by the waist, hoisting her up against the wall. She wrapped her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck as I pushed my cock into her. Still wet from earlier, she gasped with pleasure as she lowered herself onto me and around my shaft.

Slowly at first, careful to maintain the delicate balance necessary to sustain up-against-the-wall sex, I began to fuck Lucy. She moaned and bit into my shoulder. "Harder," she whispered. The girl was not fucking around. I obliged her, picking up the pace until we had a good rhythm going. Her pussy felt amazing as always, and I was overwhelmed by the other sensations swirling around the little bathroom--the water running down my back, the sound of Lucy's screams and sighs, and the perfect closeness of her body pressed between me and the wall. I put a hand under her ass and felt her pelvic muscles grind in a rhythm with my cock.

"Oh, God, yes, Chris," she whispered in my ear. "Fuck me. I love you. Fuck me."

"I love you," I replied. I hooked my arms under her thighs while she pressed her hands against the wall, giving us a better angle. I fucked her as hard as I could; she arched her back, her whole body pulsing to each thrust.

I don't know how she sensed that I was building to an orgasm, but she did, somehow, and she steadied herself. "Okay stopstopstopstopstop," she said. I stopped and pulled out, helping her get her feet back on the ground. "Holy shit, that was awesome."

"'Was?'" I asked. "Something wrong?"

"No; God no." Lucy turned the water off and grabbed her towel and amulet off the sink. "I just think you should save some of that cum. You might find use for it later. Happy Halloween. Come find me."

Towel-clad, she walked out the door with a playful wiggle of her ass. I got my amulet around my neck and my towel around my waist and followed her, but the hallway was empty when I left the bathroom. I went back to our room.

Lucy wasn't there. Alma and Siobhan were lying on their bed, drenched in sweat. They sat up when I came in. "Chris," said Siobhan, still with that slightly glazed look in her eyes. "Just the man I was looking to see. Alma wanted to ask you something."

"Uh-huh," I said. "I just saw her in the bathroom. I thought she was headed back here, but I guess not."

"Not about Lucy," said Siobhan. She put an arm around Alma's shoulder. "Ask him."

Alma gulped. This was the first time I'd ever really seen her shy about something. It was cute. "Hey, Chris, I, uh, I've come to a decision," she said. "I've decided... I want to try dick. We were wondering if you could, you know, help with that."

It took me this long to notice that Lucy had swapped the amulets.

THREE: THE REALLY SEXY PARTS

"Um," I said. "Okay, Alma, first thing, because I'm still not used to this. You get that you want me right now because I'm wearing the white amulet?"

"Uh-huh," said Alma. "It's right there. We can see it."

"And you get that I'm wearing the white amulet because Lucy broke the rules, right? She swapped amulets with me."

"Yep," said Siobhan. She was still bottomless, tits wrapped in bandages, legs spread. Her cunt was there for the taking. I was still trying to wrap my head around this. "It was the right call. More fun this way. I mean, she wasn't gonna fuck us."

"But you will, won't you Chris?" Alma shuddered in anticipation; her sequinned top jingled softly. The black light of the amulet between her breasts reflected obsidian off her jewelry. "I mean, you spend like half the time you aren't fucking Lucy staring at us."

"I, uh..." This was no time to be getting embarrassed. "I mean, yeah. Have you seen yourselves?"

"Uh-huh." Alma smiled and rose from the bed. "And up until a minute ago, I was like, 'I don't really mind that, we're all friends.' And then suddenly it was more, like, 'this is the best thing that's ever happened to me, because I need him and I need his penis.' Which is, you know." She sighed again. "A new thing for me."

I smiled. "I think I can help you out there." I tossed my towel onto Lucy's end table. Both of the girls groaned a little at the sight of my cock; Siobhan bit her lower lip. I took another step toward the bed. The head of my cock, still dripping with precum and Lucy's juices, was maybe nine inches away from Alma's face. "Are you sure about this?"

"So fucking sure."

"Are you nervous?"

She hesitated, then: "Yeah. A little."

"Well, that's okay. Would it help make you less nervous if maybe you watched me fuck your girlfriend first? As, you know, a demonstration?"

Siobhan smiled so wide you'd think I'd offered her a new car and a week in Venice. She looked to Alma, pleadingly.

"I..." Alma slid a hand under her loincloth. "I don't know if that would help, but it would turn me the fuck on, so..."

Siobhan giggled and kissed Alma on the cheek before turning her eyes back toward my cock. "Oh my God," she said. "Oh God, Chris." I wasn't even doing anything. She just looked so happy.

"Alright," I said. "First things first. Alma, unwrap Siobhan's tits for me, if you don't mind. I'm gonna go get something."

Alma nodded and grabbed at the end of Siobhan's wraps. I headed for a drawer on Lucy's end table. I'd fantasized enough about exactly what I wanted to do with these girls that I felt pretty on top of the situation. (Protection, I knew, wasn't a worry with any of the coven. They were witches; they had their ways. Gloriously unintrusive ways.)

From the drawer I pulled a bottle of coconut oil and turned around just in time to watch the last of the wraps pull free. Out fell Siobhan's perfect, perky, enormous, lightly freckled, milky white pornstar tits. I put a glob of oil on my hands and tossed the bottle to Alma. "Alma," I said. "Help get her ready for me."

I sat down on the bed, opposite Siobhan from Alma, and each of us pulled up a tit, covering her chest with a generous layer of oil. Siobhan arched her back, basking in the attention, giving off little gasps and moans with each movement of our hands. My rough, slightly hairy dude-hands and Alma's adorably small, brown, immaculately manicured hands. I gave her nipple a squeeze and she cried out in pleasure. I'd only ever caught brief, tantalizing glimpses of her nipples in the months we'd been sharing a room, but they were big and pink and puffy in a way I'd only ever seen in dirty comics. Her other one was in Alma's mouth.

I grabbed the roots of Siobhan's hair and drew her in for a kiss while Alma sucked on her tit. Her lips and tongue were the same as her nipples--big and soft and warm and beautifully pink. "You know what to do," I whispered in her ear. Then I lay down on their bed.

"I think I have an idea," said Siobhan. She turned to face me, cupping one hand under each of her tits. She giggled. "How's that paraphilia treating you?"

"I just have to get it out of my system," I said. "What are you waiting for?"

Siobhan sighed and shuddered and then bent over me, squeezing her tits around my cock, all without breaking eye contact. With each of her nipples clamped between two of her fingers, she slid herself up and down me, moving with her back. Oil and soft flesh and pressure gave a light, fun stimulation, but I was mostly in this for the visual. I was finally taking possession of the tits I'd been staring at for a year.

Alma crawled along and sat up beside us, one hand still between her legs, slowly and casually keeping herself stimulated. She stared at Siobhan, eyes hungry, mouth hanging open slightly. "Does that feel good?" she asked.

"It does right now," said Siobhan, looking back and forth from me to her girlfriend, still biting her lip between sentences. "God, it feels so good." She squeezed tighter and began bucking harder and harder.

Sitting up a little, I could see the rim of Siobhan's ass over her head, moving up and down in time with the rest of her. I grabbed Alma by the waist and drew her in close for a kiss. Her small, firm, athletic body pressed against my side, trembling slightly. She kissed my neck.

Siobhan looked up at me. "Is it good for you, Chris?" she asked.

"So good," I said, stroking her hair.

"I want to give you more."

"Okay. Give me your mouth."

"Fuck yes." Siobhan slid her tits off of me and wrapped her lips around my cock, keeping her eyes on me. She had beautiful blue eyes, ringed by freckles. Her mouth felt amazing; clearly she'd gotten in a lot of practice sucking cock in her pre-Alma days.

Alma had her eyes locked on my cock and on her girlfriend's cheek. She was so turned on, it looked like it hurt. "You want a taste?" I asked her.

Alma swallowed hard and nodded once. "Can I?" she asked Siobhan.

Siobhan pulled herself off of me with a smacking noise. "I'll always share with you, sweetie," she said, kissing Alma on the cheek.

Alma leaned over my cock, licking her lips, breathing heavily. Siobhan sat over her protectively, stroking her hair. "Suck his cock for me," she whispered.

Alma nodded and lowered her lips overeagerly down the length of my cock. Almost immediately she gagged me up. She cleared her throat and giggled.

"Easy, babe," said Siobhan.

"Okay, okay. I got excited. Sorry." Alma smiled and blushed.

"I get it. Try again."

And she did, sucking my cock delicately and nervously. Her mouth was wet and tight and warm and lovely. Siobhan touched her forehead, guiding her--just steadying her at first, and then starting to gently push her down deeper down my shaft. "There you go," she cooed. "How's she doing, Chris?"

I gave a thumbs-up and a helpless groan.

"Good," said Siobhan. "It's my turn again, though." And so they went for several minutes, taking turns sucking on me, all the while kissing each other and complimenting each other and rewarding each other with small, affectionate touches. They were so in love; it made me wish Lucy were here. Where was she?

Alma took my mind off Lucy when she whispered in Siobhan's ear, "I want to watch you ride his cock."

"I thought you'd never ask." Siobhan lifted me by the hips and moved me to the center of the bed, hopping up to straddle my thighs. "You ready for me, Chris?"

I took a deep breath. "I will never be ready for you in a million years, Siobhan," I said. "But I can't wait that long."

"Me neither." Siobhan mounted me, sliding her pussy down over my cock. Her orange pubic hairs intertwined with my black ones, like a Halloween decoration. Wasting no time, she started riding me hard. "Are you watching, babe?"

"Oh, I'm watching," said Alma, working her way around the bed to crouch beside us, one hand stuck at her clit. I was watching too. With every thrust of her hips, Siobhan's oiled-up tits heaved up and down; her hair bounced around her head and settled over her collar in curly locks. She was biting her lip again. It was beyond sexy; it was pornographic.

That was my thought before Alma leaned over, shoving her perfectly round ass six inches away from my face, and started sucking on Siobhan's left tit. I gripped Alma's asscheek and Alma moaned and Siobhan moaned. "God, you're fucking perfect," Alma told Siobhan.

"I know," said Siobhan. "Don't stop with my tit." So Siobhan kept riding me while Alma leaned over and licked the still-dripping coconut oil off her tits, and a couple minutes later Siobhan leaned forward (burying my face under her tits) and came, hard, screaming "fuck fuck fuck" for a half dozen measures of ¾ time.

Siobhan rolled off of me, panting. She glanced up at Alma. "Your turn," she wheezed.

"Okay," said Alma. She got up on top of me, nervously, the head of my cock lightly pressing between her labia. Siobhan reached up and ripped that loincloth off. Her pussy was completely shaved and had a pinkish-purple tint; like the rest of her, it looked compact. Tight. And I was about to be the first dick ever inside of it..

Siobhan grabbed Alma by the shoulders and spun her around to face my feet. "Chris? The oil," she said. I grabbed the bottle from the end table and tossed it over. "This is gonna be a tight fit," said Siobhan, lightly rubbing oil on my cock. Then she poured a stream of the remaining oil down Alma's back, where it coated the curves of her ass and dripped onto my navel. Alma's asscheeks shone bronze, gyrating slightly in anticipation.

"Are you ready?" Siobhan asked Alma.

"Kiss for luck first," said Alma.

Siobhan kissed her girlfriend and then pushed her by the shoulders, forcing her down onto my cock. Alma let off a scream that could have been either pain or pleasure. Her cunt was tighter than any I'd ever been in; I felt my cock squeezed on all sides by rippling, contracting muscles. It was heavenly. "There we go," said Siobhan, pushing Alma farther down until I was nearly all the way inside her. "That feel good?"

"Fuck shit fuck holy shit," responded Alma. "Yeah. Okay." Squatting over my cock, she started to slowly lift herself up and down, each movement eliciting a high, feminine groan. Siobhan guided her gently to pick up the pace. "Holy shiiiiiiiit."

"You're really cute when you're fucking dudes," said Siobhan, kissing Alma's forehead. "Come on, girl. Show Chris what you can do."

Alma bent over, Siobhan holding her head against her cleavage. I could feel the light pressure of Siobhan's fingers rubbing Alma's clit while I fucked her. Alma's gymnast hips and legs pumped faster and faster, resolving into a sort of twerk-esque, taking my cock deep inside her with each bounce. I helplessly watched her perfect, bouncing, oily ass oscillating around my cock. The image and sensation were hypnotic; Alma was doing all the work, but I felt like my mind and body were both moving at some incredible speed.




The Curtain, and Other Oddities



An old bit of Fantastic Four dialogue popped into my head; "I've done it!! I'm drifting into a world of limitless dimensions!! It's the crossroads of infinity -- the junction to everywhere!" I could feel my orgasm welling up. Alma's jewelry jingled to the beat of the sex.

Siobhan lifted her girlfriend's head and kissed her deeply. "You're amazing," she said.

"You're, aaah! amazing," responded Alma.

"I'm so glad I could share this with you."

"Me too. God. Fuck."

"I love you."

"I love you too oh shit I'm gonna c--"

I didn't properly hear the rest of the word, because I came at the same time Alma did, our genitals pulsing in time as I shot a long day's worth of pent-up cum up inside her.

Everything felt sort of distant and floaty for what must have been more than a few seconds, because the next I became aware of my surroundings, Alma was lying sprawled across the bed at my feet, dick-drunk and giggling. Siobhan was dabbing at her girlfriend's vulva, alternatingly with a tissue and her tongue--stemming the leak of semen onto the sheets.

Lucy was standing over the bed in her amulet and an oversized House Targaryen t-shirt. She kissed my forehead. "Having a happy Halloween, hon?" she asked, teasing.

"I didn't see you come in," I said.

"You were occupied."

"And that's all... we're good?"

"We're great." Lucy sat down on the bed, scooped a glob of coconut oil off my navel, and licked it off her fingers. "I want to talk about it later, when we're all a little more clear-headed, but I'm glad you're having a good night. Okay?"

"Okay."

"You're gonna save some semen for me, or are you all worn out?"

Alma pushed her head up to face Siobhan. "I feel so empty now," she said.

Siobhan smiled. "I gotcha," she said. "No worries." She drove three fingers up into Alma's cunt. Alma made a contented growl. My dick began to stir again.

"I don't think I'm anywhere close to worn out," I said.

"Well, good." Lucy grabbed me by the hand and pulled me off the bed. "Because Gabby wants you in the corner room."

I took a deep breath. "Wants me, like... wants me wants me?"

Lucy twirled her amulet. "Her cleavage was glowing black, last I checked. C'mon. I want to watch this."

She pulled me out of the room, completely naked. The bathroom door slammed as I entered the hallway, but otherwise there was no one around who would mind. "Just watch?" I asked hopefully.

"Yeah. I don't, uh..." The door to the corner room was open. There was a flickering orange light emanating from within, like it was some sort of portal to hell. "I dunno if I could keep up with Gabby. She's pretty intimidating with sex stuff."

"Intimidating in what--oh."

"Hey, there, cuties," called Gabby over her shoulder. She was lying bent over the bed, bare ass poking up in my direction. Still wearing the boots, the gloves, the corset, the collar, the amulet, and the red bodypaint. This last was lit up by a dozen candles scattered about the room. Even her labia were red. "Lucy, did you bring me a present?"

"I may have." Lucy pushed me into the room and then took a seat on Kate's bed.

"Hey," I said, resting a hand cautiously on Gabby's ass. On the desk next to where I was standing was a metal tray upon which were laid: a wooden cane; a riding crop; some sort of metal clamp; a length of rope; and a long, serrated knife.

"Alright, Chris," said Gabby, "here's the score. I've got the amulet thing going, and I want you just about as bad as I've ever wanted anything, but I'm not like these other sluts. You don't just get to stick it in me and wiggle it around and call it a day. You gotta treat me right, okay?"

"I'll do my best," I said, eyeing the tray of tools. "Um, what do you like?"

"Pain. Is the main thing. A little, you know, degradation and helplessness might not be remiss, either. 'Kay?"

I looked over to Lucy, who was curled up inside her t-shirt on the other bed. She nodded. "Okay," I said. "I'll see what I can do." Lowering my voice a shade, I said to Gabby: "You stay where you are."

"I can't promise I won't struggle," giggled Gabby.

"I can promise it won't do you any good," I shot back, taking the rope off the tray. While drawing out the rope, I straddled Gabby's lower back and grabbed for her wrists. As promised, she struggled, screaming mischievously. I could feel her ass and legs writhing under me. It took me half a minute to get her wrists tied behind her back, by which time I was hard again. This was strange and new for my brain, but my cock didn't seem to mind.

I climbed off of Gabby, and she tried to roll over onto her back, hiding her ass from me. I put a hand between her shoulder blades and shoved her back down. "Stay down," I said, pressing her head down onto the sheets.

I squeezed Gabby's strawberry-red asscheek, caressed it, and gave it an experimental slap with the flat of my hand. It felt nice. I was getting more turned on my the moment. Many ways to have fun with a magically-aroused, tied-up masochist were starting to run through my head.

"Is that all you got?" asked Gabby. I shut her up with another, harder slap. I liked the drumbeat sound it made; her body had good acoustics. I hit her again, and then sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled her ass onto my lap. My cock rubbed up against her upper thigh. She was breathing a little heavily now; I could feel every little movement of her body, and all of them turned me on.

I started spanking her in earnest now, giving her a slap every two seconds or so, switching asscheeks every four or five hits. Gabby started to grunt and then moan and then squirm. "Please stop," she said softly.

I almost obeyed, and then remembered that "stop" wasn't a safeword; anyway, I didn't want to. I gave her two or three more hard spanks and then ran my hand over her pussy. She was dripping wet.

I pulled myself out from under her and pulled her head up to my ear by the roots of her hair. "I'm not done with you yet," I whispered, and then slammed her face back down onto the bed. Then I looked over to Lucy. She was touching herself now, lightly and slowly, the way she did when she wasn't quite sure to what extent something was turning her on.

I figured it was my boyfriendly duty to help her figure that out. If she wanted a show, I'd give her one. I grabbed the riding crop off the tray.

The crop was maybe a foot-and-a-half long and mostly rigid, and it made a very pleasant sort of whooshing sound when I swung it. The leather tip hit square in the center of Gabby's left asscheek with a thwack, sending out a satisfying little ripple. She cried out; the sound was definitely more sex than pain. I hit her again, lower on the thigh. She made a sharper cry, more pain than sex. But the distinction was blurry.

I swung the crop fast and hard; it could hit her at full strength two or three times in a second. I hit her all over the exposed area, down towards the rim of her boots and up towards the hem of her corset. Occasionally I aimed the crop to hit only an inch away from her exposed labia, which made her scream and squirm. She was crying out nonstop now, and hyperventilating; with each breath, her body was making these beautiful heaving motions that seemed to converge on her cunt, like she was desperate to find something to fill her up.

I was giving over to a darker part of my sexuality and it felt good. I was annoyed that Gabby's tits were hidden from me, so I grabbed the knife. Her corset laced up in the back. I pressed the flat of the blade against her lower back (eliciting a gasp) and then sawed my way through the laces, bursting the corset and exposing her back. All her tattoos were still plainly visible through (or over?) the red of her devil costume: on her back there was a cross, a hummingbird, an old pin-up girl in a one-piece bathingsuit, and a James Joyce line running down her spine ("yes I said yes I will Yes").

I ripped the corset out from under her and threw it to the floor. Then I grabbed her by the neck and pulled her up, exposing her heaving, red tits (a little darker and more purpleish around the nipples, which was a nice touch). A stylized sun and moon were tattooed on the underside of her breasts, as though shining down on her abdomen. I teased her nipple with the tip of the crop, and she shut her eyes and gasped. "Please," Gabby whimpered. "Just stop."

"No," I said. I shoved her back down on the bed and tossed the crop to the floor beside the corset. Lucy had lifted her shirt up above her navel and was full-on masturbating now, eyes and clit facing me. I gave her a wink and picked up the cane.

With the cane I whacked Gabby as hard as I could, flat on both asscheeks. A shudder ran all the way up her body and left her mouth as a screen. I hit her again. Gabby began to sob. My erection was aching. I could have had her at any time, but I kept hitting her instead. The red of her ass was splotched with purple.

"Please," Gabby choked out between sobs. "I'll do anything. Just stop hurting me."

I hit her again.

"I'm all yours. Do whatever you want with me."

And again.

"Please just take me and get it over with! I can't take any more."

Lucy came with a series of short, desperate gasps, and then fell prone on Kate's bed. I hit Gabby three more times and then hooked the cane around the rope binding her wrists, pulling her to her feet. "Knees," I said.

Gabby dropped to her knees, mouth hanging open, breasts heaving. Her eyes were puffy and almost as red as the rest of her. Twin lines of mascara ran down her face; the red stayed intact. That had to be magic, right?

I grabbed the metal clamp off the tray--a dental gag. I held it up to Gabby's face and whispered, "green?"

Gabby nodded. "So green," she wheezed.

I moved for her mouth with the gag, but she kept her lips shut tight, so I pinched her nostrils shut. After only a few seconds, she opened her mouth and I shoved the clamp in. Then I spread the clamp open, forcing her mouth as wide as it would go. Which was how I noticed that her tongue was forked at the tip. Magic it was, then.

I grabbed Gabby by the hair and forced her mouth down onto my cock as deep as it would go. This turned out to be all the way; I could feel her throat opening up and then closing around me, and the forks of her tongue curving around the base of my shaft. She held me for a few seconds and then gagged me up. My cock emerged trailing a line of thick saliva, and then I shoved it in again.

I fucked Gabby's face raw. I alternated between forcing my cock down her throat until she gagged, and grabbing the side of her face and fucking her mouth hard and fast, like it was a vagina. After a few thrusts her eyes would roll back up into her head and start to water, and she would start making that rhythmic gluk gluk gluk sound that I thought only ever happened in porn. Every time she gagged, there was a moment where the muscles in her throat contracted around me in a way that felt like heaven.

After a minute of this punishment Gabby started to hypersalivate, a steady stream of drool dripping off her lower lip onto her tits and pussy and boots. When I gave her a second to catch her breath, she would lean forward and cough up a glob of phlegmy drool from deep down in her throat. I was distantly amazed that all of this was such a turn-on for me. I reached down and squeezed Gabby's nipples as hard as I dared. Every scream and gag and sob was bringing me closer to orgasm.

I swear Lucy has a sixth sense for how close I am. "Come on her face?" she asked from across the room, touching herself again. Gabby screamed, shook her head and struggled; I pulled her hair and slapped her cheek hard, quieting her. Then I fucked her face as hard and long as I could, letting the cum well up in my balls. Just as I was ready to pop, I held myself down inside her and let the first jets of cum squirt right into her esophagus. She gagged almost immediately, nose pressed up into my pubic hair, tongue lapping at my balls.

Lucy came again a few seconds after I did.

I pulled myself out and spent the rest of my cum on her face, mixing it in with the cocktail of tears, spit, sweat, phlegm and runny makeup that was already coating her from forehead to chin. When I was done, I released her hair and stepped aside. Gabby leaned forward, sobbed and retched.

I undid the clamp and pulled her to her feet. "Please," she whimpered, leaning against me. "May I touch myself?"

"Hmm," I said. I grabbed the knife and cut the bonds off her wrists. "Knock yourself out," I said, walking over to Kate's bed.

"Hi," I said to Lucy.

"Hi," said Lucy. "Pull up a seat."

I sat down next to my girlfriend; we held hands and watched Gabby, on the other bed, treat herself to the first in a series of loud, passionate orgasms. Gabby hadn't bothered to clean her face off; she had the fingers of one hand deep inside herself and was using the other to furiously rub her clit. A second orgasm came only half a minute after the first.

"Like a wind-up toy," remarked Lucy.

"How many do you think 'til she wears herself out?" I asked.

"I'll take the under on five and a half."

"Fair. I've got the over."

We sat in silence, Lucy leaning on my shoulder, and watched Gabby's third orgasm. "Okay," said Lucy. "So I think I'm the same as you, with the black amulet. It's not doing much to me because I already want you so much all the time; I'm sort of used to it."

"Does that mean I don't get to fuck you again later?"

"Oh, hell no," said Lucy. "I'm just giving you a few to get your boner back and then I'm taking you back to my place." Gabby came a fourth time and kept going. "I just want to explain that what I'm about to say, it's not something that's going to wear off after tonight."

I looked at Lucy shyly. "Are you trying to tell me... that you like me?"

Lucy bopped my forehead. "Shut up, nerd," she said. "I'm trying to tell you that, some night when I have you all to myself, everything you did to her?" She pointed at Gabby, which seemed to trigger a fifth orgasm. "I want you to do to me."

"Oh," I said. My dick, I was suddenly aware, was regaining feeling again. "I think we might have to work our way up."

"Well, then, we'll get started over the week."

"I can recommend all of that," said Gabby, whose hand was now off her clit. "A+, would submit again."

"Are you done?" asked Lucy. "Cause if so, that's the under. I win the bet."

"Looks that way," I said. Then I turned to Gabby and growled, "Did I say you could stop?"

Gabby blanched, apologized, and resumed masturbating. Lucy slapped at my upper arm. "That's cheating!" she cried.

As she chased me out of the room I saw something odd. I very clearly saw Lucy, standing in the hallway, duck awkwardly into the bathroom when I walked out of the corner room. Which didn't seem likely, as Lucy was right next to me, holding my hand.

I was too awash in love and sex to make much of this at the time.

FOUR: NOVEMBER'S GONNA BE DIFFERENT

The night was still young, but everyone was a little worn out and hungry, so we pulled Alma off of Siobhan and asked if they wanted to hit up a food truck.

Lucy pulled her Black Widow costume back on and I Cyclops'd myself back up, although my hair was unfixable. Siobhan, for her part, wasn't willing to invest the half hour it would take to bandage her back up; anyway, she'd been responsible for the tearing-off of Alma's costume, so she joined her girlfriend in wearing boring normal clothes out in public. Alma bundled up in a hoodie and sweatpants, but Siobhan, accustomed to the harsh autumns of her native Maine, wore shorts and a Can U Not Talk Sense t-shirt. Apparently counting on the night and the blackness of the t-shirt to cover her nipples, which seemed to be permanently erect under the influence of the amulet.

Halloween fell on a Saturday this year, so it was even crazier than usual. College kids swarmed the streets, most of them drunk and/or high, wearing costumes that were intended either to be sexy or to be unsexy in an ironic, subversive way. I felt comfortably smug about how much better a Halloween I was having than they were.

We got fries, gourmet grilled-cheesesque sandwiches, and sodas that were either orange or black. We put too much pepper on everything because it seemed vaguely festive. Gabby joined us after a while, her skin back to its natural tan after a shower. She was still mostly wearing leather, but more socially acceptable leather, and her amulet was off; she kept looking at me and breaking out into a giggly smile in a way that was hard for me to interpret. She ate without sitting down, and said she hadn't seen Kate since before sunset.

The five of us sat out on the picnic table and talked about magic and sex and the Leftovers until we were all either cold or horny enough to retreat back to the warmth of the dorm.

Lucy and I followed Gabby into the corner room, where she displayed her full collection of fetish paraphernalia. There were things that I didn't have names for and things that I was curious to learn more about. "You can take and use anything you want, whenever," she said, and then nervously added, "including me."

Lucy responded with a nervous thumbs-up and pored over the merchandise, eventually grabbing some rope and a flogger. I kissed the back of her neck. "We're gonna head back to our room," I told Gabby. "Keep an eye out for Kate? I'm kinda worried."

"Yeah," said Gabby.

When we got back to our room, Alma and Siobhan were already naked again and locked in a 69, sprawled perpendicular to the length of their bed, legs everywhere. Alma was on top of Siobhan, facing the door; she looked up from her girlfriend's pussy long enough to shoot me a happy grin. On the other end, Siobhan had to scrunch herself up a little so that she could tilt her head up and access Alma's clit.

"Hey," said Lucy, tossing the rope and flogger aside.

"Hey," said Alma.

"Mmmrf," said Siobhan, patting Alma's ass for emphasis.

"So," said Lucy, squeezing my hand. "I was gonna suck my boyfriend's dick for a bit. Mind if we use your bed?"

"Go for it," said Alma. Siobhan stretched an arm out and patted the sheets next to her affirmatively.

Lucy whirled me around and sat me down on the bed next to Siobhan. Her giant tits were compressed under Alma's belly, and Alma's smaller ones were hanging down to rest upon Siobhan's navel, creating a sort of Taoist swirl of curves. Lucy undid my pants. I was hard, obviously.

Lucy gave my cock a lick. "Ooh," she said. "You taste like... everyone. And coconut." She started sucking my cock with a technique that was a little more aggressive than her norm, clearly inspired by watching me and Gabby. Working with her neck and shoulders, hands by my hips, she took me deep into her mouth at a quick pace.

"Easy," I said. "Don't wear yourself out."

She raised an eyebrow, offended, and then took me into her throat, holding me there for what had to be a record for her before coughing me back up. "The Black Widow does not 'wear herself out,'" she announced in a sultry, adorably terrible Russian accent, and then resumed sucking without missing a beat. I was dimly aware of Siobhan, six inches away, having an orgasm.

Lucy continued to suck my cock with a ferocity and stamina that was new to her. I tentatively began to respond in kind, pushing her down onto me and sporadically facefucking her. After a few minutes and a handful of gags, eyes watering lightly, she gave up. "Hey roomies," she said, patting Siobhan's thighs. "You want a turn on the Chris?"

"Bring it," said Alma.

Heart pounding, I stood up off the bed. To Lucy I said, "Get naked for me?" She grinned and nodded, struggling with the sweat-drenched arms of her jumpsuit. I turned my focus towards Alma's face, which was hovering hungrily over Siobhan's cunt. She opened her mouth and I forced my cock into it.




The Curtain, and Other Oddities



After only a few strokes of Alma's lips over my cock, we both noticed Siobhan had brought one arm down and was pointing urgently at her vulva. I pulled myself out of Alma and scratched her hair. "I don't want to keep your girlfriend waiting," I explained.

"Please don't," said Alma. She pushed herself up into a seated position, still riding Siobhan's face, revealing both of their bodies--two black amulets and four breasts. "You get the bottom half."

I leaned over Siobhan and shoved my cock into her. Alma immediately began to moan, as though some current of sexual energy were running from me through Siobhan into her body. Alma locked her eyes onto mine, one hand on playing with her own nipple and the other with Siobhan's, rocking back and forth across the other girl's face. Siobhan gave off muffled screams, her tits bouncing.

Alma lost balance as she came; she fell forward across the length of Siobhan, diving facefirst back toward her clit. I took that as a cue to turn my attention back to my own girlfriend, who was now naked and lying ass-up across the bed, watching me.

I pulled myself out and walked around behind Lucy. I grabbed her hips and lifted her up to get a better angle on her pussy, and then took her from behind. Lucy moaned. This was her favorite position, and I certainly didn't mind it either; she was nice and tight from this angle and I had a beautiful visual of her ass, back, and neck. Lucy gripped the sheets and squirmed helplessly on the end of my cock while I fucked her with all the energy I had.

Right before Lucy came, she arched up and rested her weight on her hands, maneuvering me as deep into her as she could go. She let off a beautiful, sort of lyrical scream; every muscle in her body went rigid for a few seconds before softening into post-orgasmic Jell-O. She fell forward, my cock sliding out of her, and then curled up in a comfortable fetal position, expressing her contentment through small catlike noises.

I kissed her once on the hip and once on her ankle, and then stepped over to the other end of the bed, where Alma and Siobhan were still sixty-nining. I was on the other end of the bed from where I'd fucked Siobhan a few minutes ago; Alma's ass and pussy were floating in the air, Siobhan hungrily sucking on her clit from below. I gave Alma's ass a playful slap and said, "hey, ladies. How's your Halloween going?"

"Depends." Alma bent her back, arching her exposed pussy up towards me. "You just gonna stand there all night," she asked, "or what?"

I tilted Siobhan's head out of the way and pushed myself into her. It took a couple seconds; Alma's cunt was even tighter from behind, and she screamed with every inch of cock I squeezed into it. The sensation was incredible. I don't know what it must have felt like for her, but I was counting on the amulet to make it a positive experience.

Finally I was as far in as I could go, and started making very slight in-and-out motions while Alma's pussy acclimated and pulled me the rest of the way in. Siobhan, lying on her back right below us, lost her angle on Alma's clit and turned her attention to licking and sucking on my balls. It was overwhelming. I shot a glance back over to Lucy, who was lying back on the bed next to us, gently touching her clit. I wanted her more than anything--more than this, even--but she looked like she still needed a minute, so I kept myself busy fucking Alma.

I made myself stop when I felt an orgasm coming on. I pulled myself out of Alma and gave her a kiss on the asscheek, and then bent down and kissed Siobhan on the mouth. "Okay," I said. "It's been nice fucking you."

"Awwww,' said Siobhan. "Same here."

"You're good friends. I enjoy being your roommate."

"You too, Chris," said Alma. "Now put the ginger's mouth back on my pussy, please."

I angled the back of Siobhan's head back up to Alma's satisfaction, and then turned to Lucy. "Hi," I said.

"Hi." Lucy lay back across the bed, using Siobhan's stomach as a pillow, framed by her entangled roommates. She'd never looked so beautiful.

"I, uh..." I scratched my head sheepishly. "I saved some semen for you."

She giggled and put a hand between her breasts. "Just for little ol' me?"

"That's right." I leaned over her, resting my erection on her vulva.

"Well," said Lucy. I suppose you'd better give it to me."

So I slid myself inside her. It felt like coming home. There's nothing quite like the missionary position with the girl you love. Especially when there are two other girls creating some sort of Large Hadron Collider of orgasms just behind her head.

I fucked Lucy slowly and tenderly. We were both tired and horny and all-around euphoric. "Did you have a good Halloween?" I asked.

"Mm-hmm," she answered. "Chris, okay, I, um, oh. Fuck yes. I have something to tell you."

"What do you have to tell me, Lucy?"

"And this isn't, mmm, this is another 'this isn't the amulet talking,' thing, okay? It's a, ah, it's a secret. Lean in."

I bent over Lucy as far as I could, still fucking her. She wrapped her arms around me, leaned her lips up towards my ear, and held us there, her breath hot against my earlobe, until just the right moment.

Then she whispered "I really like sharing you with my friends," and I came.

CODA: THE CYCLOPS EFFECT

Five minutes later, Alma took her amulet off and politely asked us to move to our own bed. No one put the curtain back up.

We had just gotten under our own sheets and were well on our way to falling asleep when Gabby walked in. "Hey," she said. "Has anyone used the bathroom on the left near my room?"

Everyone shook their head. "I thought I saw someone duck in there right after, uh, we did our thing."

"Okay," said Gabby. "So that would have been around..." Gabby smiled at me and drifted off into happy memories for a couple seconds before blushing and composing herself. "I think Kate might be in there," she said. "And I think maybe she's been in there all night."

"Shit," said Lucy, getting up from the bed. "I'll go talk to her."

"She wouldn't open up for me," said Gabby. "I doubt she will for you either. But if she's wearing the amulet, she will open up for Chris."

"Yeah she will." Siobhan snort-laughed and then caught herself. "Sorry."

"I'll go," I said, already struggling into my underwear. I felt bad for forgetting about Kate all night. I think I had been hoping to avoid her, because I didn't want to have sex with her and I didn't want to turn her down while she was wearing an amulet.

I kissed the back of Lucy's hand on the way out. "I love you," I said. "Think of me while I'm gone."

"Always," mumbled Lucy. "Love you too."

I knocked on the door to the bathroom. "Kate?" I asked. "It's Chris."

"I know," came a tearstained voice from the other side that didn't sound like Kate. "I start to get wet whenever you walk by. Like a horny spider-sense."

The door opened and I found myself looking at Lucy, in full Black Widow costume. I blinked. "...Kate?" I asked. "Is this a magic thing?"

"Yeah," she said. "It's me. I, uh. I was gonna glamour myself to look like Lucy so you'd fuck me, but then I got guilty and couldn't make the spell go away, so, uh..." She gestured at the bathroom. "I've been in here, crying and masturbating and watching bad anime on my phone."

"I can see," I said. "I'm, um, I'm glad you didn't go through with that whole 'tricking me into fucking you' plan."

"Yeah," she said, laughing sadly. "That, uh... would have been not-cool."

"But I'm sorry you've spent your whole Halloween locked in a bathroom."

"That's kinda my fault."

"I dunno. Here. Can we get these things off?" I reached over her head and pulled off her amulet, and then pulled off my own. "Is that a little better?"

"A little less with the uncontrollable desire," said Kate, after a few seconds. "Yeah. Just, you know... the regular desire. For you and Lucy and, ugh, and Siobhan. I don't need an amulet to be a mess."

"We're all messes," I said. "Can you try dropping the spell again?"

"Yeah." She took a deep breath and the image of Lucy seemed to evaporate off of her. And then she was just Kate again, in a second-rate Black Widow costume. "Yippee," she said. She could see the immediate change in the way I looked at her. This was probably a look she got a lot of. I remembered that I was Cyclops tonight; I could do a lot of damage with a look.

"Well, hey, it's like I said," I offered. "There are two Black Widows. But there's only one you, and only one Lucy. Let's try and keep it that way from now on, okay?"

"Yeah."

"I like the one you. You're my friend."

"I know. You're my friend too."

"Well, there we go." I tossed her an amulet. "Halloween's not over yet," I said. "Plenty of time before sunrise. Maybe things will turn around. Can you go check on Gabby? She's worried about you."

"Yeah," she said, throwing the amulet over her neck. "Sorry for worrying you."

"Sorry for not worrying enough. I'll see you soon."

Kate ran off. I put on the other amulet and went back to Lucy's room. Siobhan and Lucy, in particular, were very interested in hearing what I had to say about Kate and her current location. The amulet around my neck was already starting to glow black.