14 comments/ 20406 views/ 15 favorites An Ill-Advised Kiss By: NatureSuperal This is a twisted little fable, based on a twisted little nightmare. I definitely need to get my head examined. Oh well, enjoy! ****** In general, Lena was able to control her temper, which was a good thing since she was an experienced practitioner of witchcraft. The talent for magic ran through the women in Lena's family, getting stronger with each generation. Lena was powerful and she had learned to control that power and use it for her benefit and those she cared for. Lena's friends thought of her as caring and generous, quick to help out and lavish with her gifts and hospitality. It was rare to see Lena's temper really flare. In fact, it may have only really happened once. Lena and her husband, Roger, lived in an affluent neighborhood in a large but not extravagant home. Roger was fully aware of Lena's abilities, but since Lena used them only for day-to-day conveniences and to maintain their comfortable lifestyle, he did not know just how powerful she was. Lena did not want to scare him so she was careful not to perform any overly dramatic acts of magic. On the rare occasion when Roger did something hurtful, Lena would be creative in showing her displeasure and Roger would behave himself, for a while. Roger was charming and attractive; tall, lean, well-muscled with emerald green eyes and wavy blond hair. Roger was not the sharpest tool in the shed, though, which may have been why Lena had a soft spot for him. Lena met the hapless Roger ten years earlier, an unambitious drifter who had no direction, earning a modest living as a bartender at a seaside restaurant, taking full advantage of his surfer-dude looks and attitude. Lena, smart and powerful as she was, was inexplicably smitten, so after a brief courtship during which time Lena slowly revealed her true nature and Roger mustered enough sense to recognize the advantages of living with a real-live spell-casting witch, they were wed. They made a handsome couple. Lena was petite, with raven-black hair (which she would sometimes change to suit her mood), firm but small breasts, and violet eyes. She was alluring in a "girl-next-door" kind of way. She could have easily altered her appearance to look like a supermodel or porn-star – which on Roger's birthday she had done once or twice – but she preferred to live her life looking the way she was born. Instead of simply living a lazy lavish lifestyle off of conjured wealth, Lena preferred to blend in with her surroundings; she owned and operated a small jewelry store. She made all the jewelry herself, combining her natural creativity with her magical skills, producing a rainbow of flawless gems whenever she needed them. For customers who she particularly liked, she would occasionally endow her wares with special powers, bestowing a boost of confidence or a dash of situational irresistibility on a deserving female trying to win the heart of a procrastinating beau. While Lena worked in her shop, Roger – who magically had developed world-class tennis skills overnight – worked as the tennis pro at a nearby country club. Between the money she made at her shop and the generous salary Roger earned, they lived comfortably and inconspicuously. However, as often happens with dim-witted men, Roger began to take the truly miraculous life he had been given for granted. Even though Lena would indulge Roger's wild, and often indecorous, sexual fantasies, Roger's eyes would wander. Working as a tennis pro offered Roger many opportunities to cheat on Lena, with very little chance of getting caught. Roger managed to continue this disrespectful treatment of the lovely Lena for several years without her any wiser. And probably could have gone on indefinitely. That is, until Cassandra and Brad moved in next door. When Lena learned that she had new neighbors, she immediately invited the neighborhood over for a "welcome" party. With a wave of her hand, Lena converted her poolside patio into party central, each detail tastefully crafted, each morsel simple but delicious. The usual suspects arrived at the party and before long a good time was being had by all, a steady buzz of friendly conversation blending easily with the upbeat music. An hour passed, then two, and the guests of honor had not arrived. Lena began to get a bit irked; Cassandra and Brad had enthusiastically accepted the invite and a quick glance over the fence confirmed their car was in the driveway. Why were they not coming over? The reason for their tardiness soon became clear. Cassandra liked to make an entrance. And so she did. Wearing a clingy and all-too-revealing mini-dress, and red 6" high heels to match her blindingly shiny lips and exceptionally long fingernails, Cassandra pushed through the gate leading to the patio and posed, letting her new neighbors get a good long look at her. "Inappropriate" did not begin to describe Cassandra's attire, but that seemed to be the look she was going for. She drank in the attention, the slightly annoyed looks from the women present, and the leering lascivious looks from most of the men, several of whom self-consciously turned away or hastily hopped into the pool to hide their sudden erections. Roger just stared, slack-jawed and bug-eyed. And Lena saw the stare and was momentarily hurt, wishing she had never decided to throw the party. But she quickly looked around and reminded herself that just moments before everyone, including her, had been having a wonderful time, so she quickly rallied and snapped into "gracious host" mode. "Hello, Cassandra, hello Brad, welcome!" Lena said as she walked over to the couple, arms stretched open. In response, Cassandra extended her hand and, avoiding the hug, giving Lena a limp-fish finger-shake, accompanied by a phony and condescending smile. Brad, clearly wary of accepting a hug from another woman, took Lena's hand in his and gave her a warm handshake and appreciative smile. He was clearly touched, and rather impressed, at the trouble Lena and Roger had gone to. "We're sorry we're late ..." Brad began, but was cut off by Lena, who had been scanning the crowd, mentally sizing up the other women. "Nonsense, Brad, the party is just getting started," Cassandra said dismissively. "Besides, I'm sure Lara knows that dressing to make a first impression takes time." "Lena," Brad corrected. "Yes. Right. Sorry," Cassandra said over her shoulder as she walked past him toward the rest of the party. "Where is the bar, Lena?" She emphasized Lena's name, sounding irritated that her husband had corrected her. Or that Lena's name wasn't Lara. Without waiting for an answer Cassandra walked away, leaving the scent of her perfume hanging in the air. Brad smiled weakly at Lena then dutifully followed along in Cassandra's wake. Most of the eyes of the party-goers followed Cassandra's wiggling butt as she made her way to the bar. She ordered a Cosmo, which naturally matched her lipstick and nails, and continued to survey the patio as if she were shopping for shoes. When Cassandra's eye fell on Roger, she handed her drink off to Brad and purposefully swished her way over to where Roger was unabashedly staring back her. "I'm beginning to like this neighborhood more and more," cooed Cassandra as she approached Roger. Lena was watching as Cassandra made her way over to her husband and quickly walked over to intercept. "And who are YOU?" Cassandra gushed. Before he could answer, Lena arrived at Roger's side and said, "Cassandra, this is my husband Roger." Cassandra shot Lena another irritated look and then turned back to Roger. "It's a pleasure to meet you Roger. You and your wife are too kind to throw us this little party." Unlike the weak handshake, Cassandra leaned in, placed a hand on Roger's shoulder and kissed him on both cheeks, leaving a wet red lip print on each side. "Oooops," she giggled, "I seem to have marked you." Roger blushed slightly, and Lena turned red. "Now where did I leave my drink?" Cassandra turned away, locked eyes with Lena for an instant and gave her the same haughty smile she had given upon her arrival, and then walked back toward the bar where Brad had been silently watching. When she reached Brad she wordlessly held her hand out, and Brad rummaged in his pockets, producing a small compact and a tube of lip gloss, which Cassandra made a show of re-applying slowly and sensuously. Lena put a hand behind her back and materialized a wet-wipe, which she used to wipe the lip gloss off Roger's cheeks. Roger's eyes, however, had never left Cassandra. The party proceeded for several hours. The guests enjoyed the food and drink, and a good time was had by all. Except for Lena. She threw herself into playing hostess because every time she stopped to mingle, she would hear Cassandra purring at one or another of the male guests, shamelessly flirting, while Brad stood by, quietly on the sidelines. And all too often the small pack of men with whom Cassandra was chatting (and laughing and touching and ...) included Roger. Lena noticed that Brad's beer bottle was empty, so she reached into the cooler, popped the cap with a slight wave of her finger, and walked over to Brad. "Here," she offered, "You look empty." Her choice or words was innocent but Brad took it a different way. "You have no idea," he replied softly, then realized that she had meant his beer bottle, and reached out to take the fresh bottle. "Thank you." "You're welcome," Lena said. "So, where did you move here from?" she went on, trying to make polite conversation. As Brad began to answer, Lena felt a hand on her shoulder. "Are you hitting on my husband, Lena?" Cassandra said with a smug smile on her lips. "Careful, dear, or I might do the same with yours." She laughed as she took the beer bottle from Brad, wrapped her lips over the end and took a long swig, leaving a shiny red ring where her lips had been. She handed the bottle back to Brad and walked away. Lena was not happy about what she did next but considering all that was to come it was a comparatively small sin. Cassandra was shimmying her way back toward a group of men that were gathered at the far side of the pool. As Cassandra reached the corner of the pool, a thought popped uninvited into Lena's head, a thought which instantly and involuntarily became reality. One of Cassandra's heels suddenly broke away from the shoe, causing Cassandra to lose her balance, flail her arms momentarily, and then plunge into the pool. The few gasps of surprise were quickly drowned out by the laughter and sarcastic applause. Cassandra sputtered to the surface and let out a banshee's wail. "AHHHHHHHHIIIIIHHHHHHAAAA! My dress! It's ruined. I can't believe this." Her eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a sympathetic face. The women looked mildly amused while the men were enjoying the way the now-wet clingy dress was hugging her breasts and hips even tighter than before. Brad and Roger both arrived poolside at the same moment and extended their hands to Cassandra. She looked briefly at Brad then took Roger's hand and let him pull her out of the pool. Cassandra's teased hair had flattened out and her elaborate eye makeup had started to run. Lena ducked inside the house, produced a large bathsheet and ran over to the pool, feeling guilty about the embarrassment she had caused. Roger grabbed the bathsheet and wrapped it – and his arms momentarily – around Cassandra. Lena took Cassandra by the arm and said, "Come on, let's get you inside and dried off." "My heel caught on something on your pool deck. I'm totally sending you the bill for this dress," Cassandra wailed as Lena led her into the house, with Roger following behind and Brad bringing up the rear. Lena guided Cassandra to the master bedroom and kicked the door shut before Roger could follow. Despite her bedraggled condition, Cassandra's shallow competitive mind quickly surveyed the room, decided what items in Lena's bedroom were better than hers, which of course Brad would have to pay to upgrade in her own home. Lena directed her to the bathroom; Cassandra stopped in the door way and roared, "Brad! Go home and get me my pink beach wrap and my travel bag. NOW!!!!" No doubt everyone at the party could hear her instructions, and with a resigned shrug Brad exited the house to fetch his wife's clothing. Cassandra slammed the bathroom door shut and Lena waited patiently on the bed. After a few minutes, a knock came on the bedroom door. Brad. Lena opened the door and took the small bag from him and brought it to the bathroom. "Brad brought your clothing," Lena said softly. The door opened and a hand with long red fingernails emerged, took the bag, and then retreated behind the rapidly closing door. Another few minutes passed, during most of which Lena's blow dryer howled, when finally the door reopened and Cassandra walked out, wearing a pink bikini bottom and gauzy pink wrap, which barely hid her breasts. Lena could see that a variety of her cleansing and hair products had been used and left strewn carelessly across the bathroom vanity. Cassandra had reapplied her makeup, much less dramatically than before, but still rather liberally by most people's standards. She had left her soggy dress draped over the toilet, a small puddle of pool water accumulating on the tile below. Cassandra brushed by Lena and said, "Clean it or replace it, I don't care which. Just get it to me by next weekend." Cassandra continued to the door but stopped short when her gaze fell on Lena's dresser. A large glass-topped jewelry box sat in plain view, and Cassandra backed up to get a closer look, her eyes wide like a child in a toy store. Without asking permission she opened the glass top and began examining the glittering necklaces and rings inside. "Are they real?" she snarked not even bothering to look up. Lena fumed at the inappropriate and totally bitchy question, but took a deep breath and replied sweetly. "Yes, none of my jewelry is costume." Cassandra looked up and said, "Well someone must be great in bed to have earned all this." Bitch. "Oh no, you misunderstand," Lena continued, trying to ignore the rude observation. "That is MY jewelry. I make it. I own a jewelry shop and I make everything I sell." "Wow," Cassandra muttered, grudgingly impressed. "These must be worth a fortune." She continued fondling the baubles. "If they really ARE real," she added. "All real," Lena replied. "You should come by the store sometime," she added and then instantly regretted. "Yeah. Maybe." Cassandra finally closed the jewelry box and checked herself in the dresser mirror. She reached into her travel bag and pulled out a tube of lipstick and one of gloss. She made quite a show of carefully and slowly reapplying a coat of lipstick – pink, this time to match her outfit – and then slathering on several layers of gloss. She puckered and pouted in the mirror and, once satisfied that her lips and face were perfect, she turned and headed to the door. She opened the door, then paused and said to Lena, in a voice loud enough for the husbands to hear, "You know, maybe if you took a little more time with YOUR makeup and clothes, your husband would spend more time looking at you." And then she left, Brad bustling behind her. Cassandra made the round of the pool one more time, careful to show off her bulging braless breasts and skimpy bikini before saying a perfunctory goodbye and leaving. The party soon began to wind down and before long Lena and Roger were alone poolside. "Some party, huh?" Roger dully quipped. "Yes. No good deed goes unpunished," Lena replied. Roger gave her an uncomprehending look. Lena sighed. "You go to bed, Roger, I'll clean up." Not having to be asked twice, Roger turned and headed off to the bedroom. Lena gave a quick look around, over the fences and up and down the side yards, and then waved her hand. The mess of plates and glasses quickly vanished, stains and crumbs disappeared, and the remaining liquor and food reappeared in the liquor cabinet and fridge respectively. Lena entered the bedroom without turning on the light and walked to the bathroom. She cleaned up the mess of bottles and jars that Cassandra had left out, washed her face, brushed her teeth, and softly slipped into bed. "You know, it wouldn't be a terrible idea," Roger said, his face half buried in a pillow. "What wouldn't?" Lena asked. "What Cassandra said," Roger replied. "About your appearance. You could jazz things up a bit from time to time." Lena felt like she had been stabbed. After all the mean words and rude behavior from that woman, for Roger to agree with any of it was deeply hurtful. A tear welled up and ran down her cheek, making a faint noise as it hit the pillow. "You know, I'm just saying, it couldn't hurt," he added. Lena waved a hand and every light in the bedroom turned on. She grabbed Roger and rolled him over onto his back, his eyes squinting from the sudden light. "You mean, like this?" Lena hissed, and she waved her hand in front of her face, instantly recreating the makeup look that Cassandra had worn. "And this?" She then waved a hand and was enrobed in the same dress that Cassandra had worn. "Does this turn you on?" Roger's eyes went wide for a moment, looking his tarted-up wife up and down. There really was no right thing to say, but, sadly, of all the wrong things he could have said next, he picked the worst one. "No, I guess you're right. It doesn't work for you." And then he rolled over. Lena looked at him sadly for a moment, then with a barely noticeable flick of her finger the lights went back out, her dress dissolved, and the makeup faded from her face. She lay awake for an hour or so, replaying the events of the day, then finally fell asleep. Roger had an early lesson to teach the next morning, so when Lena awoke, he was gone. She showered, dressed and headed off to the store. A day of working with her hands and the beautiful gems always brightened her mood. Which lasted for about an hour until Cassandra strolled into the store. "Well, isn't this a quaint little shop," Cassandra announced as she walked in. Lena forced the grimace that had crossed her face into a smile and extended a hand to Cassandra, which was once again greeted with a quick and unenthusiastic finger-shake. "Hi Cassandra," Lena said simply. "I was so taken by the jewels in your bedroom that I just had to come and see what you had here." She spent the next five minutes silently perusing the display cabinets. Secretly Cassandra was awestruck by the beauty and variety, but she assumed a look on her face like a chef perusing a pile of rotten fish at market. If all the gems were real, she thought, this place would be worth a fortune. Finally, Cassandra looked up and said, "Well, these are very ... nice ... but my taste is a bit more, shall we say, upscale. Do you have any really high-end pieces?" Lena wanted to stuff a handful of diamonds down Cassandra's throat but thought better of it and waved her to the back of the store. "Here, let me show you some of the pieces I don't usually put on display." In a room behind the main showroom, where Lena did her hand-crafting, a huge safe sat with a door slightly ajar. Lena never worried about theft or damage to the store – she could replace anything that went missing and her personal safety was covered by protection spells – so it was not unusual for the safe to be open and unattended. But, of course, Cassandra didn't know that, misinterpreting it as Lena's carelessness. Lena pulled a stool over for Cassandra and then pulled the safe door wide open. Cassandra's eyes widened when she saw the fortune in stones, gold, platinum and pearls that sat neatly organized in the safe, along with a dozen or so necklaces and bracelets that would have caused a celebrity fistfight on an award show red carpet. Remaining cool, Cassandra said, "Ah yes, much more my style." Without waiting for permission, she reached in and picked up an elaborate necklace that looked like a lace mesh, made of finely woven platinum, studded with diamonds. She held it up to her neck and turned to look at herself in the mirror. "I do make this look good, don't I?" she said. An Ill-Advised Kiss "It is a lovely piece, one of my favorites," Lena replied. "How much?" Cassandra asked, her gaze still glued to the mirror. "I've priced it at $220,000." Lena paused and smiled. "But since you are a neighbor I'd let you have it for $175,000." To her credit, Cassandra did not choke. She put a look on her face like she was considering the offer, then said, "It's tempting. But I'd have to convince Brad to take me somewhere that I could wear it first. And that's just not his scene." She smiled sweetly and placed the necklace back on the shelf in the safe. Cassandra rose from the stool and looked around the workroom. "You have so much valuable material, dear. Are you ever worried about thieves or break-ins?" Lena shrugged. "It's never been an issue. I'm confident I could handle myself if something went wrong." And that's when an idea was born in Cassandra's scheming little head. "Well I hope you're right, dear. But there are so many unsavory types in the world you just never know what could happen," Cassandra said. "Well, thank you for the tour, but I must be going. So much to do. See you around." She walked to the door and paused. "And do tell that lovely husband of yours that I was thinking of him. Ta ta!" She swept out of the store, leaving a lingering cloud of her perfume in the air. Cassandra's next stop was the country club. From the moment she learned at the pool party that Roger was the tennis pro, she had decided she would go and sign up for tennis lessons. Worst case, she thought, she would get to see Roger in tight shorts, sweating and flexing his sinewy muscles. Best case had been she'd seduce him and satisfy the needs that poor little Brad no longer could. Brad was nice and all, but he had become dull and variety is the spice of life, she thought, so the occasional tryst seemed necessary. And bedding the husband of the mousy little jeweler who lived next door and seemed so popular in the neighborhood – well that was just a bonus. But now, there was even more of a wrinkle. Roger's sweet little bitch of a wife was loaded. There were enough gems and precious metals in her store to finance a lifetime of excess and an endless string of young handsome studs. So, the new best case was to seduce Roger and get him to help her rob the jewels out from under the pathetic unsuspecting Lena. Cassandra pulled into the country club. Before getting out to let the valet park, she pulled out her signature lip gloss and lavished on a heavy wet coat. She wanted Roger to notice her mouth. She loathed using it to service men but the occasional blowjob had gone a long way and she was pretty good when she needed to be. As it turned out, it took only one blowjob to hook Roger, which she administered in the back room at the Pro Shop. It took all of three minutes of overt flirting, brushing her breasts against him and licking her lips to get Roger in the back. After kissing and groping for a few minutes, she glided to her knees and pulled Roger's tennis whites down to his feet. He was rather well hung, slightly over eight inches, which would be very pleasant when he fucked her, she mused, but presented a challenge for giving head. She thought briefly about trying to go straight to fucking but thought better of it – nothing hooks a guy like a sexy blowjob. She pulled his boxers down and let his erection snap free. "So big," Cassandra cooed appreciatively. "Does little Lena know how good she's got it?" Roger grinned a big stupid grin. Cassandra stroked Roger's cock lightly, rubbing her thumb against the sensitive spot beneath the head. Precum started to drip from Roger's peehole, which Cassandra caught with her thumb and rubbed around the head. When Roger's cock was completely hard and pulsing with his rapid heartbeat, Cassandra released it from her hands, which elicited a plaintive moan from Roger. "Patience, darling," Cassandra whispered. She reached into her purse and produced her tube of lip gloss, which she reapplied with practiced precision. She looked up at Roger and said, "If a girl's going to give a porn-star blowjob, she needs to have a porn star mouth, don't you think?" Without waiting for an answer, she opened her mouth wide and took several inches of Roger's dick inside. When she closed her lips, a bright red ring clung to his cock. Without breaking eye contact, Cassandra slowly dragged her lips back up the length of his shaft until just the head was in her mouth. She swished her tongue around the top and then slowly descended until she took as much of his cock as she could without choking. Which was not enough for Roger, who pushed insistently to get further into her throat. If it had been Brad doing this to her, Cassandra would have bitten it off right then and there. But she had plans for Roger so she did her best to give the appearance of enjoying it and amped up her tongue and lip technique in hopes of getting Roger to temporarily forget about throat fucking her. It was not the world's greatest blowjob. Not even close. In fact, Lena gave much better head than Cassandra did. But that did not register with Roger. This slutty glammed-up babe went from hitting on him the night before to sucking him off the next day so no matter how it felt physically, Roger was mentally on top of the world. Why couldn't Lena be like this? Well, he thought, it's her loss. And what she doesn't know won't hurt her. Which is what he told himself about the countless other blowjobs he had gotten from women who were not Lena. Cassandra gamely swallowed every drop of cum that Roger had to give, which was not all that much given the fact that he had masturbated in the shower thinking about Cassandra that morning. And now that she was actually blowing him, he cursed himself for jerking off – totally flooding her mouth would have been awesome. Next time. When she nursed every last drop from him, she pulled his shorts back up and gave his deflating cock a gentle pat. "Thanks," she said. Yuck, she thought. "You tasted as good as I thought you would." Which wasn't great. Cassandra got up and brushed the wrinkles from her skirt. She found a mirror and reapplied first her lipstick, then the gloss. "That was hot," Roger said. "My dick looked great between your shiny lips." "Glad you liked it. For some reason, Brad just isn't into that." Which was a lie; Brad loved it when Cassandra had done that for him. But lately, when he had the courage to even ask, she would dismissively tell him that he'd have to do a lot more to get a blowjob out of her, and she would never waste her expensive lipstick on his dick. She'd get to that point with Roger, she thought, but for now it was a worthwhile investment. They both emerged from the back room and Cassandra asked suggestively, "So, Mr. Pro, when's my next lesson?" "I can fit you in whenever you want," Roger said, laughing at what he thought was a successful attempt at sexual humor. Cassandra cringed on the inside. "Same time tomorrow, then?" she said, and winked as she swished out the Pro Shop door. Roger stood there grinning. When he got home that evening, Roger was a bit more distant to Lena than usual. When she casually mentioned over dinner that Cassandra had dropped by the store, though, he nearly spit his food out. "She seemed very interested in my high-end jewelry," Lena said. "I bet it looked good on her," Roger said in what he thought was an innocent tone of voice. "I suppose," Lena sighed. "You think she's attractive, don't you?" "Well, sure. She really knows how to look sexy. Guys appreciate that effort." "But when I tried it last night for you, you told me it didn't work." "Yeah. I guess that some women can pull that look off and some can't." Roger paused. "But that's OK, you're kinda sexy in your own way, you know what I mean?" Which, in Roger-speak, meant that he did not think she was sexy, her way or any way. "But you give great blowjobs so it doesn't really matter." Sadly, Roger thought he was paying Lena a compliment. Nevertheless, when they went to bed that night, hoping that Roger's heart was in the right place even if he was an insensitive dolt from time to time, Lena shimmied down and began giving Roger a slow, sensuous blowjob. Years of experience with his cock, and noticing and remembering what he liked, enabled Lena to drive him to ecstasy. All Roger was thinking was, "Gee, I wish Cassandra could suck dick like this." The next two weeks was a flurry of clandestine meetings between Cassandra and Roger. After a couple of blowjobs in the Pro Shop, they graduated to hardcore fucking – much to the relief of Cassandra – at a nearby hotel. She learned that Roger could not lick pussy to save his life but she moaned and screamed just the same to make him feel good. It was not the sex that Cassandra was looking forward to each day, however (although Roger did have a decent sized cock and a lot of stamina). It was the post-coital conversation that Cassandra really enjoyed. Because she was planting the seeds of her plan. Each day, Cassandra became more daring and more explicit in painting a mental picture for Roger. Day 2: "Lena sure does have a lot of gems at her store." Day 4: "With all that money tied up in those stones, you'd think she'd be more generous with you. Take you on some romantic getaway or something." Day 7: "Imagine what we could do with all those jewels. We could go anywhere. Do anything." Day 10: "I'd be worried if I were her. She is very careless about the security at her shop. She just leaves the safe open all day." Day 13: "Do you really want to stay with her? Does she understand you like I do? Is she as sexy as me?" Day 14: "Oh, Roger, I would love to run away with you, but how would we live? We'd need money. And lots of it." Cassandra had successfully seduced Roger to the point where he was ready to run off with her. That is, if he wasn't terrified at Lena's reaction. He never shared Lena's abilities with Cassandra; Lena had been quite clear with him that if he ever divulged her secret he would regret it. But Roger knew that dumping Lena would make her very angry, and dumping her for Cassandra would be even worse. Of course, he couldn't share this fear with Cassandra – she'd think he was weak or pussy-whipped. Choice of words was never Roger's strong suit. And so, it was his choice of words to Cassandra that sealed their fates. Roger didn't want Cassandra to lose interest. He did want to run off with her. He wanted to live the sexy exotic life that Cassandra described. But he was afraid of angering Lena, but didn't want to admit that fear to Cassandra. He'd have to express it in a way that seemed manly, that made him still seem strong and desirable. "I don't know, Cassandra, I just don't think Lena could go on living without me," he said. Cassandra had experienced lust before. Physical lust came first when she was younger. Then when she learned she could manipulate men with her charms, she lusted for power. But bossing Brad around had begun to lose interest for her years ago and since she never wanted to actually work, she looked for opportunities to wield power in social situations. But finding more interesting and challenging social circles in which to play required money. Money-lust had become her latest obsession. Brad was a good provider but they had leveraged everything to buy the trappings of success, and she wanted more. Needed more. And so the lust for money grew. But suddenly, Roger had awakened a new kind of lust. She saw an opportunity to secure her financial future and exert the ultimate influence on another person. Roger said that Lena could not go on living without him. Good. So let's make it that she wouldn't go on living. Money-lust had a new playmate. Blood-lust. It took another three weeks of sex – and far too may blowjobs than she wanted – for Cassandra to float the idea of hiring someone to eliminate Lena. The first week was spent convincing Roger that Lena was mean and insensitive. This was easier than Cassandra had anticipated, but of course she didn't know about the few times in Roger's past where his gross mistreatment of Lena had resulted in serious punishment. Like when he had called her a cunt for interrupting him while playing videogames and she shrank him down to the size of a spark plug and placed him on the top shelf of the home theater cabinet with the fan from the game console blowing hot air on him for 8 hours. Or when he carelessly spilled a bottle of bourbon on a silk shawl that her grandmother had woven for her and then drunkenly laughed that she could throw it in the dryer and turn it into a handkerchief; that earned him being turned into a handkerchief himself and hung out on the clothesline during a driving rainstorm. No permanent damage, just pointed lessons that Lena hoped would dissuade Roger from future lapses in judgment. No such luck. During the second week, Cassandra alternated between painting a compelling picture of their future luxurious life together and exaggerating the bitterness of his current life with Lena. She knew she couldn't convince him that his current life was bad unless she compared it to the potential of unimaginable pleasure and wealth. Roger bought it. The last week was when she outlined the details of the plan. She would hire someone to rob the store. She'd tell the robber that it was mostly costume jewelry but there was a lot of gold and platinum bars in the safe, which would be open, but to grab everything from the safe, just to be sure. She'd assume that the thief would try to screw them by keeping the precious metals and would let him think he'd pulled a fast one. It was the raw gems that Cassandra wanted. And, finally, she'd tell the thief that the owner was armed, so he should shoot first and ask questions later. When it was all over, they'd leave the country and their previous lives behind. Cassandra did not mention, of course, that she'd also be ditching Roger at some point, sooner rather than later, when someone better looking, more worldly and – thank god! – a lot smarter came along. Roger balked, of course. But Cassandra explained that they were not actually killing Lena, the robber was. And this kind of robbery would have happened anyway, given how careless Lena was with security. And Roger wouldn't technically be part of it since Cassandra was doing all of the planning. All she needed from Roger was the money for the down payment on the hired gun. In the end, sex and greed defeated human decency. Cassandra had woven a spell over Roger stronger than any magic Lena would ever have used on him. The plan seemed sound, and his hands were (relatively) clean. He felt badly about Lena but he convinced himself that it was only a matter of time before she got mad and turned him into a mouse and fed him to the neighborhood cats. So, Roger withdrew $50,000 from his brokerage account, which he turned over to Cassandra, who converted them to bearer bonds for paying the robber. Lena had known something was wrong weeks before. On one occasion, Roger had come straight home from a meeting with Cassandra and had forgotten to ditch his shirt. The scent of Cassandra's perfume clung to the shirt, and Lena noticed it when she sorted the laundry. She tried to ignore it; lots of women wear that same perfume. But the seed of doubt was planted. When Roger became increasingly less interested in sex, her suspicions increased. Roger was always a total horn-dog and even through all of the other dalliances he had successfully hidden from Lena, he remained consistently ready for any sexual activity Lena offered. But not lately. She couldn't tell whether that meant he was getting it elsewhere or that he simply had fallen out of love with her. Part of her didn't want to know. A few days before the planned robbery, Lena was surprised when Brad wandered into her store. Lena liked Brad. They exchanged pleasantries on the street from time to time. He was always friendly and polite. But she also felt a strange unspoken kinship with him. Although they never discussed it, they both knew the other was married to someone who treated them badly. And they both knew they didn't deserve it. "Hello, Brad, what a pleasant surprise," Lena said brightly. "Hi, Lena. I've wanted to stop by your shop for a while. Cassandra's birthday is coming up and I want to get her something nice." Lena smiled a sad smile. Brad was too good for this. His wife was a bitch and very possibly screwing her husband yet he wanted to buy her a pretty gift. She could tell it was hard for him but he was doing it for the right reasons. His gift wasn't so much out of love for Cassandra as it was respect for their marriage. Brad was a good husband. For the first time, Lena envied Cassandra. "I don't have a huge budget, so ..." His voice trailed off. "Don't you worry," Lena said. "I'm sure we'll find something wonderful for you to give her. C'mon in the back – that's where I keep all the good stuff for my special customers." Lena gave him a warm smile and his face brightened. She led him to the back, where the safe hung open. "Wow," he said, "Cassandra was right. That's safe is overflowing with incredible jewels." "Cassandra told you about the safe?" Lena asked. "Yes. She came home the day after that great party you threw for us and raved about the fortune in stones you had. It made quite an impression on her. That's kinda why I wanted to see about getting her a gift from you. Since she was so taken with it all, I thought she'd really like it if it had come from the treasure trove she couldn't stop talking." Couldn't stop talking about. Lena thought that was a bit odd but quickly dismissed it. Brad's sentiment was so sweet that she wanted to find something good for him to give, even though the recipient was that harpy Cassandra. She had the perfect idea. Lena reached into the back of the safe and produced a necklace of alternating pink and blue sapphires. They were all, of course, exquisite in color and shimmered in the light of the workshop. If it had been appraised by another jeweler he'd have said it was worth at least $20,000. "I can give this to you for $600," Lena said. "I have a great supplier of sapphires and was able to get a great deal on these." She smiled to herself; he'd never know that she was her own supplier of perfect gems. "I don't know if you believe in this sort of thing, but I am told that the sapphires from this particular mine have special properties. The sapphires' colors become more intense depending on how the recipient and the giver feel about each other. Deep intense blue means the man cares for the woman deeply. Bright neon pink means the woman cares deeply for the man." She was casting the spell on the stones as she described their special magic. "That's a great story," Brad said, "but I think I'll keep it to myself. Cassandra's likely to just laugh at me if I tell her that." A wicked grin crossed Lena's lips. "What's the matter? Cassandra doesn't believe in magic?" Brad looked at Lena for a moment and then laughed, and Lena joined in. Lena wrapped the gift, ran Brad's credit card and gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek as he left. A good man, Lena thought. Cassandra does not deserve him. On the day of the robbery, Roger got up early and left the house before Lena awoke. He didn't sleep much the night before, alternating between guilt about what was about to happen and excitement about his new life ahead. He went to work and made sure that people all over the club saw that he was there. He wanted to make sure there was no way he could be tied to the upcoming crime. Cassandra was far more cool about it. She was lounging in bed, wearing the new necklace that her clueless husband had given her for her birthday yesterday. She looked at it idly, marveling at Brad's terrible eye for jewelry. The blue sapphires were a deep royal blue, but the pink sapphires were almost as pale as glass. Yet another thing about Brad she wouldn't miss. An Ill-Advised Kiss Lena opened the shop and went about her business as she did every other day. She stepped out at 12:30 to grab a sandwich next door, putting a "Back in 5" sign on the door. When she came back, a tall man wearing a baseball cap carrying a backpack was waiting at the door. "Sorry to keep you waiting there," she chirped. "Come right in." Lena unlocked the door and walked back to the counter, the man following close behind. When the door swung shut, Lena gave the man a smile and said, "What can I do for you?" At which point the man pulled a small handgun from his pocket and said, "You can quietly move to the back room." The man was a little surprised that the woman looked more sad than frightened. Clearly she didn't understand what was happening here. Lena walked ahead of the man into the workroom and pointed to the safe. "There, take whatever you want." The man looked greedily at the safe and said, "I will." He looked back at the woman. And she had vanished. There were no windows or hiding places and he swore she couldn't have slipped by him. Nevertheless, he stuck his head out the door and scanned the showroom floor. Nothing. Remembering the warning of the lady who hired him – "she's armed and trigger happy" – he was suddenly panicked. He looked around both rooms again and thought about making a run for it. But greed was stronger than fear. As quickly as he could, he started stuffing the contents of the safe into the backpack. Had he realized how much was in the safe he'd have negotiated a higher fee. So, to make up for it, he stuffed every other gold bar into his pocket instead of the sack. Once the backpack was overflowing, he zipped it closed, took a quick look around, then walked quickly to the door. The lady had said that she'd be watching him and if he didn't drop the backpack where they'd agreed she'd have the cops on him before he could sneeze. Content to have $50,000 in bearer bonds in his safe deposit box and several pounds of gold bars in pockets, he proceeded to the drop location, left the bag, and disappeared. Lena had been holding her breath the entire time. She knew she was safe; she had protection spells around herself and Roger all the time, and she had made herself invisible the moment the thug had looked away. And the loss of the gems was meaningless to her; she could conjure another batch in no time. But the feeling of being violated was terrifying for her and she was so shaken that she didn't even think to stop him. She just wanted to hide. It took her half an hour to get up the nerve to become visible again. When she finally did, her hands were trembling and her breathing was shallow. She needed to get out of the shop, away from the scene of the crime. She ran outside, locked the door out of habit, and started walking. She headed in the direction of home, hoping that familiar surroundings would calm her. She was wrong. The first thing she noticed when she walked into the house was the perfume. That same scent she'd found on Roger's shirt. The same scent that Cassandra always wore. Lena felt her face flush. She walked silently toward the bedroom. She heard voices. No, not voices. Grunts. Moans. A wave of hurt and sadness washed over her. She'd been robbed at gun point only to come home to find her husband in bed with another woman. She pushed the bedroom door open, and the hurt and sadness quickly vanished, replaced by disbelief. And rage. Roger was lying on the bed naked. Cassandra, also naked, was impaled on top of his cock, rocking back and forth. And all of the gems from her safe were strewn around the bed. Her mind couldn't process the scene for a moment. And then it all clicked into place. "You ... did ... this to me," she growled. Both Cassandra and Roger both screamed in surprise. But only Roger kept screaming. Cassandra had no idea about the real consequences of their actions. Roger did. The blood ran out of his face and he began hyperventilating. Cassandra, ever the cool bitch, simply dismounted and rolled onto the bed. "Yes, we did. But apparently the job wasn't finished. I told him to shoot first but I guess you talked your way out. Oh well. It doesn't change anything though. It just means that you'll have to go on with a bruised ego instead of a couple of bullet holes." Cassandra's smile was icy. "Do you think you'll get away with this?" Lena hissed. "What's to stop us? We could gather the gems and get out of here before you could call the police, and besides, you have no proof or witnesses that we were involved. You'll sound like a jealous jilted wife who's trying to set up her cheating husband." Lena turned her gaze to her shivering husband. "Why? How could you ...?" Lena's voice cracked. "It was her idea," Roger stammered pathetically. "I never wanted to ... hurt you." Cassandra laughed. "He did it because I convinced him to. That's what a real woman can do. She uses her brains and her body to get what she wants. You couldn't keep him satisfied. I did it without trying. Stealing your husband would have been fun enough, but when I saw that fortune in your safe, I saw my ticket to the good life. And now, Roger and I get to enjoy it." Lena couldn't speak. Her head was spinning and she felt herself losing control. And Cassandra was thoroughly enjoying the look on Lena's face. "It was so easy, too. You'd be amazed. Getting a man's attention. It's the simplest things." Cassandra reached over to the night stand – Lena's nightstand! – and grabbed her tube of lip gloss. She pumped the wand in and out and then leisurely guided it around her smirking mouth. "A little glamor, a little flirtation, a little feminine guile – you'd be amazed what you can do when you try. With Roger, all it took was this ..." she made one last swipe of the gloss on her lips, " ... and this." and then leaned down and left a wet red kiss mark on the head of Roger's now-deflated cock. "After that first blowjob, he was mine. He was under my spell." She laughed, and Roger cringed at her choice of words. A sudden calm washed over Lena. Cassandra had inadvertently snapped Lena out of her directionless haze. "Under your spell? Under YOUR spell?" An eerily happy smile crossed Lena's lips. "Do you think you are the only woman who can cast a spell?" Roger rocked back and forth on the bed, muttering "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," over and over. Cassandra scoffed, "I've seen what you can do and it's clearly not enough." "You have no idea what I can do," Lena replied quietly. She walked over to the bed and Cassandra sat up defiantly. Quicker than Cassandra could react, Lena snatched the tube of gloss out of her hand. "Oh, I think it's too late for that, dear. You're welcome to keep that though. Although that really isn't your color. It's more me than it is you. But who knows, maybe it will help you snare another man someday," Cassandra taunted. "This? You think this is how you make a man desire you? You think this is how you cast a spell on a man?" "Of course not. It's a prop, a tool of seduction. A bit of distraction. Sexy clothes and shiny lipstick won't enchant a man unless the woman wearing them is just as captivating. That's why I get your husband and you get nothing. You know what your problem is Lena, dear? You don't have enough of me in you." "Well, I guess I'll just have to do something about that." Lena pointed the tube of gloss at Cassandra. "Watch what a REAL spell caster can do with your 'tool of seduction.'" Lena waved the tube slightly; the gems that had been spread across the bed began to glow brightly and rise from the bed. Roger buried his face in his hands, terrified of what might be coming next. For the first time since Lena had met her, Cassandra was suddenly speechless. Lena waved the tube to the right, and all of the gems moved through the air, then settled on the ground at Lena's feet in neat little piles. "How are you doing that?" snapped Cassandra, a bit of fear creeping into her voice. "I told you, dear, I'm a spell caster. And I'm using this," she nodded toward the tube of lip gloss in her hand, "as my magic wand. And thanks to you, it's also my inspiration for your punishment." "Punishment? Ha! What do you think you can do to me?" said Cassandra, with more fear and less defiance in her voice than she had hoped. "I am going to use you, Cassandra. I am going to use you until there is nothing left of you. You stole my husband and you tried to kill me. I could just destroy you but that would be too merciful. So I am going to put you to better use." "What do you mean? What are you talking about?" Cassandra tried to sit up but found herself pinned to the bed. She struggled for a moment and then began to scream, "What are you doing to me, you crazy bitch. LET ME GO!" "No, Cassandra. Never. Never again. You have lost your freedom and you will lose your life. But slowly. It won't hurt, physically at least. But you will experience every frustrating humiliating moment until there is nothing left of you. Then it's up to God, the Universe, or whatever you believe in to decide your fate. But for now, you are mine. And I will use you as I see fit." Lena reached out and touched the end of the tube to the top of Cassandra's head and the tube vanished. A cold, uncomfortable feeling crept over Cassandra. And she began to shrink. Slowly at first, losing an inch of height, then another. When she realized what was happening to her, she began to scream louder. "You crazy fucking bitch, what are you doing? Stop! STOP!!" "It will stop soon, Cassandra." Smaller and smaller she became, her voice growing fainter and fainter. When she reached four inches, she stopped shrinking and lay motionless on the bed. "There. Now you are the right size. I am going to take your advice now Cassandra. You said I don't have enough of you in me. I have to admit that some of your tools work. So now, I'll use you as my tool." Lena reached down and picked up the tiny woman. "I seem to have lost my magic wand when I cast my shrinking spell on you. But that's OK. I'll just make another one." Lena closed her hands around Cassandra and began to roll her back and forth between her hands, slowly at first then faster and faster. A shrill cry could be heard coming from between Lena's hands: "What are you doing to me?!" Lena's hands were almost a blur and then suddenly they stopped. Lena opened her hands and where Cassandra's shrunken form had been now lay a smooth shiny unopened tube of deep red lip gloss. "Can you hear me, Cassandra?" Lena said aloud. "Yes," a weak shivering voice replied. "Roger and I can hear you, Cassandra but no one else can. You are our little secret." "Where am I? What am I?" "Your mind is untouched but you no longer have a body. Your essence has been bonded to this tube of lip gloss. You so enjoyed using this as one of your so-called tools. Now you'll get to feel what it is like to be used. And every time I do this," Lena paused and uncapped the gloss and swiped a generous coat across her lips, "a little bit of you is lost. When I have used you up, you will be gone." Lena dipped the wand back in the tube and layered another coat on her lips. "And when I do this, you'll see and feel every moment of it." Lena kneeled down and planted a kiss on Roger's shriveled cock, right next to the mark that Cassandra's lips had left. "If I kiss a man, or nibble his ear, or take his cock in my mouth, when I am wearing you, you'll be there to experience it; you'll be a moment of fantasy and allure, quickly smeared then wiped away. A tool of seduction – useful but fleeting. Do you understand?" The sound of bitter weeping filled Lena's and Roger's ears. Lena turned to Roger, whose face was still hidden in his hands. "And you, dear Roger. What shall I do with you?" "Oh god, Lena, I am so sorry ..." he blubbered. "Stop," she said quietly. Although his mouth was moving, Roger's voice suddenly went silent. Not being able to plead his case made him even more frightened. But it would have made no difference. "I believe that Cassandra was the mastermind of this Roger. Mostly because you are not bright enough to plan this yourself. I saw good in you, Roger, and put up with your thoughtlessness and lack of ambition because you made me smile. But you haven't been that man for a long time, and it took this episode with Cassandra to show me that. If you had told me you were bored with me or didn't love me anymore, I would have accepted it; I'd have been sad, but I would have dealt with it like an adult. But you hurt me, Roger. You are as guilty as she is. And because I loved you once, it hurts even more. You two deserve each other. And so I'll make sure that you will always be together." Lena waved her hand at Roger who started to shrink, much more quickly than Cassandra had. Lena could see him silently mouthing screams of "NOOOO!" as he got smaller and smaller. When he was a few inches tall, she scooped him up and rolled him back and forth in her hands, until he had transformed into a glistening tube of lipstick, the same shade as the gloss that Cassandra had become. Lena popped open the cap and rotated the lipstick out of its case. "You see, darlings? You match perfectly. I'll be able to wear both of you together and you'll have a front row seat to every pleasurable kiss I bestow. And when I'm not wearing you you'll rest beside each other in my purse. Always touching, never feeling." Cries of anguish and pleas for mercy filled Lena's ears for a moment until she walked over to the mirror, looked at herself, and raised a finger to her wet red lips and said, "Shhhhh, now. At least you won't be going to prison. And you have time to prepare for your fate. That's more than most people who've done what you've done ever get. Or deserve. I'll be tuning out your voices in a moment but I will check in from time to time. Especially when I am putting you on. I'm sure I'll always feel extra sexy when I am wearing you both." The wailing in Lena's ears began to diminish in volume. "You'll still be able to talk to each other, though. Until I use one of you up. Then the other will be alone. And Roger, my love? Cheer up. A lipstick almost always lasts longer than a tube of gloss, so your friend Cassandra will be the first to fade away. She may get quieter as more and more of her gets used up, though, so she won't be great company. On the bright side, you won't have to hear her screaming at you after that." Lena looked at herself in the mirror. She'd condemned them to a cruel fate. But they had planned far worse for her. Lena closed her eyes and, with a thought, a note magically appeared on her dresser. It read: "Dearest Brad and Lena, We have left you. We grew to realize that we were made for each other and could not stand being apart. And, of course, we could not stand being with either of you. We heard about the robbery at Lena's store – how awful! All of her treasures gone. So sad. Fortunately – for us, that is – we happened to have stumbled across some treasures of our own. Such irony! We will be enjoying our good fortune somewhere else in the world. Don't bother looking for us, you won't find us. We will be together, inseparable, enjoying the life that we deserve, away from you both. Ta Ta! Cassandra and Roger" Lena opened the tube of gloss and applied another thick coat and then planted a sticky kiss onto the note. She held up the note and looked closely at the lip print. "You were so right, Cassandra. This color is totally you." Lena casually walked back to her shop, reopened, and called the police to report the robbery. They looked around, dusted for prints, but without any security cameras – "you really should get some, little lady" – the police had little to go on. She thanked them politely, wrote out a sign that said, 'Closed for Vacation – back in three weeks,' and locked up the store. Oddly enough, later that day the Police pulled over a car with three broken taillights and found 50 kilos of heroin in addition to an assortment of gold and platinum bars that one of the officers thought might have something to do with that jewelry break-in. The driver of the car, a man wearing a baseball cap, loudly insisted he had no idea where the drugs came from. That evening, Lena waited on the front steps of Cassandra's home, waiting for Brad to come home. When he arrived, she showed him the note. They sat in silence for a while, until Brad said. "So, what will you do?" "Not much I can do," Lena replied. "I have my shop to run, once the insurance pays for replacing the losses, and I'll just take it one day at a time. How about you?" "Me? I'm not sure. This house has bad memories now. But I like the neighborhood. I guess I'll see how I feel after the shock wears off." "Good idea." "I feel awful for you, Lena. You lost your husband and got robbed, all in the same day." Brad placed a hand on Lena's. "Let me know if you need anything." Lena blushed a little. "You're very sweet, Brad. Cassandra didn't deserve you." Lena leaned up and gave him a peck on the cheek, leaving a faint lip print behind. Brad's cheek tingled slightly, which made him smile. Two months later, after two lunch dates, a bike ride in the park, five dinner dates, and at least a dozen long conversations on Lena's back patio, Brad and Lena found themselves passionately kissing on Lena's couch. They were both getting worked up but Brad, ever the gentleman, resisted the urge to push things further. Fortunately for them both, Lena made the first move. "I want you, Brad. Please." She got up from the couch and extended her hand to Brad. He took it and she pulled him to his feet and practically dragged him to the bedroom. They started undressing and Lena excused herself to the bathroom. "Be right back," she purred. When she emerged, Lena had combed out her hair so that it cascaded around her head and shoulders. Her eyes were smoky and inviting and her lashes waved come-hither like tiny fans. She was wearing a sexy but tasteful black negligee and matching black heels. Her lips were bare. Brad, who was naked but for his boxer shorts, pitched an instant, and rather impressive Lena thought, tent. Lena slinked over to the bed and sat down, laying a hand with long manicured fingernails on the bulge in Brad's shorts. Lena had gently introduced Brad to her special abilities over the preceding weeks so it was only a mild shock when Lena waved a hand over his straining cock and the boxers disappeared. Still, he gasped which was quickly eclipsed by a satisfied moan as Lena raked her nails up the length of his shaft. "I want to taste you," Lena whispered. Brad just nodded. "But, there's something I want to do first." Lena reached into her nightstand and produced a lipstick and a tube of gloss. "A little visual stimulation to go with the physical." Lena winked a slow sexy wink. "Besides, I love the way it feels on my lips. I feel so, I don't know, sexy and powerful wearing it." Brad gulped and said, "Wow." "Something wrong?" Lena asked innocently. "No nothing wrong. It's just ..." He paused, not sure if he should say anything. "Go on. You can tell me." "Well, Cassandra used to do that same thing when we were first together and it drove me wild. I just loved it. But after a while she stopped and then later she downright refused. She told me that it was a waste of expensive lipstick." Lena had finished applying a generous coat of lipstick and was pumping the wand in and out of the gloss tube. "I couldn't disagree more. This isn't a waste at all. It's fun. It's erotic." Lena sensuously stroked a layer of gloss over her dark creamy lips, then another. She blew a kiss at Brad, then licked her lips hungrily, and leaned over to plant a shiny wet kiss on the head of Brad's cock. She quickly reapplied more gloss, replacing what she had deposited on Brad.