4 comments/ 36951 views/ 46 favorites The Price of Magic By: sycksycko Amy Benson needed a man in her life, and she needed one badly. It had been almost a year since she had last gotten laid and she even had to replace her vibrator last month. She wasn't looking for a boyfriend tonight, not really. All she wanted, all she needed, was a good fucking by a man. If something would come of it, then great. If not, at least she would get some much needed action. She looked at herself in the mirror with a critical eye. She wasn't bad looking. She was quite pretty, actually. She took care of herself and exercised regularly. The big three oh was coming along fast, but you wouldn't say so just by looking at her. She posed this way and that, judging the brief and slutty witch costume she had put on. It was Halloween, the night of the slutty female, and she was going to get laid. End of story. Her cousin Julia had invited her to the costumed bash she's throwing at her house tonight and Amy gladly accepted, hoping to meet someone new. Amy and Julia had been as close as sisters while they were growing up but, ever since Julia had gotten married to Michael, a swell and stable guy with a great sense of humor, she had started to pity Amy for her lack of a man. Amy had the feeling her whole family pitied her and talked about her behind her back. "When is she going to settle down and start a family," they'd say. "How is she going to find and keep a man?" It was the same with her work friends, old school friends and even neighbors. Some days, Amy felt like at some point, while she was busting her ass through college or internships and getting her career going, someone gave a secret signal for all the people to pair off into stable couples for a lifetime of happiness and Amy had missed it, somehow. She had no intention of ever going after a taken man. A cunt went after her dad when she was little and broke up her parents' marriage. She had resolved firmly to never even look twice at a married man, or one that was in a stable relationship, and even her long spell of solitude wasn't enough to get her to go back on that principle. Only single guys need apply. Everyone Amy knew was either married or engaged to be married and most of the married couples already had kids, plural. It wasn't like she didn't want to get married or have kids, she did. She just wanted to have a man with her and not some whiny, little loser. Unfortunately, those seemed like the only single guys left on the planet. And they were single for good reason. Her friends and family had spent the past few years constantly trying to set her up on blind dates with single men they knew, or knew of, and every now and then, when the loneliness of her apartment got to her, she'd fold and accept. A sour grin spread across Amy's lips. Those dates left her with a gaggle of believe it or not stories about men. The guys she was regularly set up with were so freaking pathetic, it was laughable. Hardly any of them had a job, and even if they did, it was some lame McJob with no prospects and not even enough cash to let them move out of their parents' house. Yes, it seemed like her friends and family had decided that bottom feeding basement dwellers were man enough for her. Amy smiled a leering smile at her reflection. Her tits were pushed up into a deep, eye catching cleavage by the brief corset and her firm stomach was left bare. She definitely looked fuckable. Half her costume consisted of talismans and narrow leather bands inscribed with historically accurate representations of pagan deities. When she did something, she did her best to do it right and it was the same with this costume. Of course, old time witches didn't wear as little as she did right now, but that was an unavoidable concession to her perpetual horniness of late. She blew herself a kiss and left her apartment. She got into her tiny, foreign car and whispered a brief prayer for it to start after she turned the key. The car let out a lot of disconcerting noise but finally sputtered to life, prompting her to exclaim, "Yes!" She had bought the thing based solely on looks and low price. The bright red color helped sway her mind, too. All her male friends had advised her against it, at the time, and she had recently seen the error of her ways. It was a truly beautiful car and it rode nicely, but at least once in a fortnight it refused to start and forced her to run to a bus stop to get to work on time. It also needed short stays with a competent mechanic a few times a year. She was wearing a thick overcoat to keep out the chill, as the heater in the car was only there for show. She'd buy herself a proper car, but she had grown very attached to the pretty, little thing. Plus, all the money she could spare had already gone to her brother to pay for her nephew's treatment. This night, however, she whistled a merry tune and put all concerns aside. She needed to present a carefree front to the potential mates at the party if she was to land in one's bed. Driving up her cousin's street, she couldn't find a parking spot until she had come all the way to their house. There, on their very driveway, she managed to squeeze her little, red jalapeno pepper into the small space between a parked, full sized car and the garage door. She squeezed out through the sun roof and smiled. How could she ever give up her car? She went to the door and rang the bell. The party was just getting started and Julia answered the door. They exchanged kisses and Julia took Amy's thick overcoat. Her jaw dropped when she saw the slutty costume, but she made no comment. Amy's arrival was soon followed by the rest of the guests coming and the party kicked off in full swing. It quickly became clear to her that Julia had misrepresented the party. Amy already knew all the men there and they were all taken. Plus, her costume was, at most, half of what the other women were wearing, leaving her to draw eye after leering eye. Amy sulked in a corner and nursed one beer after the other. People called her to dance with them and she did, but she knew she wouldn't get with a man there tonight and it was seriously bumming her out. She spent more and more time in the kitchen with the booze and she was getting a serious buzz going. By the time the party was starting to wind down, Amy was drunk. She could still stand and walk, but her eyelids were getting heavy. She sighed heavily as she realized she'd have to ask Julia for a bed to crash on tonight. She was swaying to a pounding beat in the living room and idly looking around for Julia when he caught her eye. He looked like the living embodiment of the "tall, dark and handsome" cliché. His face was finely chiseled and set in a mischievous expression. His eyes bore deep into her soul and made her stop dancing and stand rooted on the spot. He walked over to her, reminding her of a big, predatory cat zooming in for the kill on the plains of the Serengeti. She found herself earnestly desiring to be his prey for the night. To be eaten up whole and consumed. He towered over her and said, "And who might you be, pretty one?" His deep voice sent shivers down her spine. Shivers that landed between her legs and started a trickle there. "Amy," she croaked and then found her voice. She blushed furiously and told herself to keep it together. If she didn't get this man to fuck her tonight, she'd go mad and wind up in some random loser's bed before the week was out. She cleared her throat and looked up into his deep, dark eyes. "Amy Benson, adept of witchcraft, at your service, my lord." She curtsied and lost her balance. His strong arms caught her and held her close to him. She could feel his hard body against hers. His smell entered her nostrils and made them flare in excitement. "And what manner of witchcraft do you practice," he asked in amusement. She didn't want to make him laugh, she wanted to make him fuck her. The alcohol was being pushed from her veins to her brain by the adrenaline rush of being in the man's arms. In her boozy mind, a plan formed. "I'm a special kind of witch, my good sir..." "Sam Haines," he said. "I cast any magic I want," she said, theatrically waving her arms around. "But after I speak the spell aloud, I must pay for it, you see?" She leaned in and conspiratorially whispered, "And I pay for it with sex." His eyebrows rose and he looked at her with a questioning expression. Her lidded eyes drooped a little before she nodded affirmatively. "The bigger the spell, the more I have to fuck to pay for it coming true." The stranger, whose name slipped from her mind at the moment, nodded approvingly and said, "Bargain struck!" He proffered his hand and she gazed at it in incomprehension, for a few drunken moments, before taking it and shaking it. "And every bargain must be sealed with a kiss." Before Amy could react, he bent down and pressed his lips against hers. Her lips parted and allowed his tongue to enter and explore all of her mouth. She hardly noticed as he swept her up in his arms and took her upstairs. Before she knew what was happening, they were in bed together. Her brief costume was gone, but he insisted she keep all the leather bands and talismans on her. She lay back on the bed and spread her legs wide to show him how she was teasing her erect clit. He undressed and she had trouble keeping her droopy eyes on his chiseled physique. She nearly passed out, but his rock hard cock splitting her wet pussy wide open brought her back to wakefulness. He slid all the way into her and held there. When she started to squirm under him, he began to fuck her in earnest. Amy idly waved an arm to make the insistently annoying thing go away. A pinch on her shoulder made her blink her eyes and squint. She looked up at the furious face of her cousin Julia. "This is completely inexcusable behavior, Amy," she berated her. "You have your own home and it would behoove you to take your slutty conquests there instead of soiling my guestroom! I'll have to burn those sheets!" Amy struggled to make sense of her tirade, even as her head was pounding. "And get dressed! Anyone could have walked in and seen you like this! I want you out of my house, this instant!" Another pinch on her shoulder made Amy sit up and fully wake. Julia turned on her heels and left the room, shutting the door behind herself. Amy took stock of her situation. She was horribly hung over and she realized, with a start, that she was lying naked and spread eagled atop the bed. Only the accoutrements of her costume remained to adorn her naked flesh. She reflexively swept up the sheet to cover up her nudity but stopped as she felt it was damp. She got up, got the room to stop spinning and examined the bed she was lying on. The sheets bore the tell tale stains of sex. The smell was still strong in the air. Amy reached down and felt her crotch. She had sex last night. Amy groaned as it all started to come back to her. The tall, dark stranger had brought her up here and fucked her senseless. She gathered up her slutty costume and began to put it back on. He had plowed her until she had cum, and then he had placed her on all fours, grabbed her supple buttocks with his huge hands and held her still as he drilled her from behind. She blushed as she remembered shrieking her second orgasm. There were probably guests still downstairs and they might have heard her. Then he had put her on his lap and fucked upwards into her body while he had feasted on her breasts. She winced as she fitted her push up corset over her abused breasts. She couldn't help but grin at the memory of the passionate fucking and many orgasms she had the previous night. She finished dressing and then a thought made her stop smiling. There had been no condoms involved. "Fuck," she swore softly. A look at the sheets confirmed there were boy juices spilled there last night. She put a hand on her forehead and sighed loudly. She'd have to stop by a pharmacy and buy the morning after pill. She struggled to remember which pharmacy was open on a Saturday. She shrugged and decided to look it up on her phone later. She first needed to do the walk of shame out of Julia's house. Her lips curled into a lopsided grin as she decided to leave the sheets where they were. "Fuck Julia," she thought to herself. Amy squared her shoulders and stood up straight. She put the pointy hat back on and left the room. Downstairs, Julia glared at her while Michael offered a weak grin and breakfast. Amy held her hand up and said, "Thanks, but no. I really need to get going. Thanks for the invite!" She blushed at her words. It almost made her sound like she was thanking them for getting her laid. "Bye!" Michael wordlessly stood up and retrieved her coat from the rack. He held it out for her and she put her arms in the sleeves. She gave him one last grin and apologetic look before she ducked out of the house. She buttoned up her coat and shook at the shock of stepping out into the brisk, autumn morning. She trotted over to her car and got in. She turned the key in the ignition and nothing happened. She rolled her eyes and said, "Fuck! Not now, you stupid piece of euro trash! Start, damn it! Start!" Her repeated turns of the key produced absolutely no consequence and she got out. She kicked the quarter panel in frustration and took her hat off to sweep a hand through her tangled locks. She noted an elderly couple across the street was sitting on their front porch and sipping steaming beverages. They glared at her in disapproval. She didn't know these people, but from the tight set of their lips, she could tell they were curmudgeons. She huffed and turned back to her car. She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. She needed to call AAA to come tow her car and do it quick, as it was blocking Julia and Michael's garage. Then she'd need a cab to go home... "No, wait," she thought to herself. She needed to get to a pharmacy first. She pulled out her phone from her pocket and gasped in betrayal as its battery was dead. She looked up at the leaden clouds above in open mouthed protest and spread her arms wide in a questioning motion. Finally, she settled for a few quiet curse words. She needed to get back inside and call the cab. The cabby would know which pharmacy was working today. They always knew these things. She'd just have to hope he wouldn't ask her what she needed. She shook her head to herself. She was going to be embarrassed to ask the cabby to stop off at the pharmacy and that's going to make him think she's buying the morning after pill. Which will be the truth. A complete stranger is going to have a pretty good idea of what sort of a night she had and it was all because of her stupid, stinking, red piece of shit car. She wanted to kick it again. She held off, lest the ancients across the street call the cops on her. She turned to the house and slumped her shoulders. What a fucking morning it was shaping up to become. All because she put on a slutty costume and acted a sexy witch the night before. Her eyes closed and her hands reached into her coat to caress her bare midriff. The very memory of the passionate fucking of the night before was enough to make her heart race. She felt herself becoming aroused and wet and let herself enjoy it, as it was driving away the cold. She stood swaying on her feet for a minute more, just enjoying her body remembering the pleasure it had experienced. She couldn't stand there forever, replaying the best night of her life, so she opened her eyes and glared at her car. "Fucking P.O.S.," she muttered and looked at Julia's front door. She really didn't want to go back inside. She saw her reflection in the car's window. Her hair was a mess. She stuck her pointy hat over it. She huffed and snapped her fingers at her car. "Hocus, pocus," she said, "I cast a spell to make you work, you red piece of..." Her voice trailed off as her car's engine turned over. She put her hand in her pocket and drew out the key and looked at it. It wasn't in the ignition. The car had started on its own and it sounded better than she had ever heard it before. She shook her head and dismissed all thoughts of the supernatural. "It's an unreliable and capricious piece of technology, that's all," she thought to herself. "I need to get it to a competent mechanic ASAP!" She heard the door slam and looked over her shoulder to see Michael walking over, fast. Looking back at her car, she brandished her key. "Michael, you're not going to believe what just happened," she started to say, but was interrupted by Michael seizing her arms behind her and shoving her forward. "Michael! What are you doing?" He pushed her to the car and grabbed both her wrists in one hand to pin them behind her back. His other hand quickly unbuttoned her coat. "Michael, this isn't funny! I'll get out of your driveway. Look, the car's working now!" He bent her over the hood and pulled the open coat up high, covering up her top half and leaving her bottom half exposed to the elements, covered only by her short skirt, a thong, stockings and calf high boots. "Michael, this isn't funny!" He pulled her thong down her legs in one strong move and she was stunned into inaction. Michael was a good guy, a dependable person that wouldn't hurt a fly, and now he had bent her over and exposed her. Before she could even blink, she felt a hot, hard thing press against her still wet opening. Michael shoved his cock halfway into her before he started to pull out. Amy's mouth flew open in shock. As he began to drill her pussy deeper and deeper, she screamed in wordless denial. He grabbed each of her hands by the wrist, with one of his own, and used them both to keep her pinned down and to gain better leverage for his thrusts. He plowed her defenseless pussy, paying no mind to her inarticulate screams. Amy was pressed against the warm hood of her car and unable to get away. Her pussy started reporting Michael's thrusts felt much like the intense fucking she had gotten the night before. The sensations prompted a fresh bout of panic. If he kept on with his maddeningly steady rhythm and his hanging balls kept on slapping against her clit like that, she might actually cum. She looked up at the windows of the house, but saw no sign of Julia. If she came out and saw Michael ravishing her, she'd feel betrayed, but she'd probably get Michael off of her. However, if she came out and saw her squirming under Michael's thrusts... Amy then remembered the old people across the street. She twisted and turned her head and all of her body to toss aside the flaps of her coat and get a peek across the street. They must have called the police by now. She just wanted them to know for certain that this was not her doing, no matter what it might have looked like. Her thrashing made his pistoning cock stimulate all of her pleasure spots and she was involuntarily moaning in delight as he kept thrusting. Finally, she got a glimpse of the elderly couple and let out a scream as they just sat on their porch and paid them no mind. Amy screamed again, but they acted like they couldn't hear her. Amy's mind was unable to comprehend what was going on. She was helplessly ravished by a trusted friend, in plain view of the public, and no one cared at all. All she could process was the pleasurable heat generated by the wet friction in her very sensitive pussy. Being pinned down and helpless only made her focus more on her mounting pleasure. Her scream soon turned into one of denial as Michael forcefully shoved his meat into her three times and finished each with a squirt of heat inside of her. His orgasm triggered a release of her own and she wailed as her skin flushed and all of her body tensed and shuddered in unwanted ecstasy. She felt Michael draw out, zip himself up and walk briskly back into the house. She heaved great big gulps of air and struggled to understand what had just happened. A scream broke through her post orgasmic haze and she turned her head to look at the old people across the street. The woman looked like she might keel over in shock and the man brandished both his cane and a cordless phone. "How dare you expose yourself to us like that, you brazen hussy," the old man bellowed with surprising volume. "I'm calling the police to take you away!" The Price of Magic Amy was again shocked. Did they not see her get fucked just now? And what would Michael say? Would he deny that anything had happened or would he claim she had initiated it? A million questions went through her head, but one took precedence of them all. What if she got arrested for indecent exposure and it went on her permanent record? Tears slid down her cheeks as she slowly pulled up her thong and straightened her skirt. She stood up and got in her car. A weight was pressing down on her chest, making her feel out of breath. If she filed a report against Michael and had him arrested under charges of rape, all of their friends would come forward and testify that she had been wearing next to nothing on the previous night and dancing lewdly. She'd go to trial to restore her reputation, only to get painted a whore by people who knew her, for all the world to see. That decided it. She was getting the hell away from this house. She was going home to take a shower and have herself a good cry and pretend this never happened. She didn't know how she could pretend one of her best friends in the whole world, a married man, hadn't bent her over the hood of her car and taken her in broad daylight. She dreaded to even think what life would be like for her from now on as she could never again face either Michael or Julia. As soon as she came home, she locked the door behind her and chained it, as well. She sat on her couch and saw the light blink on her answering machine. For a long time she just watched the little, red light blink on and off. She was feeling empty inside. Suddenly, her phone rang, nearly sending her jumping out of her own skin. "Shit," she exclaimed. The machine soon picked up. Amy unbuttoned her coat and put a hand to her thumping chest. Julia's voice was heard saying, "Uh, Amy, why aren't you answering your cell? Anyway, a police officer was just here." Her voice was apologetic. "He, uh, he came to the house, all sad and stuff, and he described you and your car and asked if someone who matched those descriptions drove away from our house lately. Now, Michael and I got scared that something had happened to you. We thought you had an accident, or something, so we told him who you were and where you lived. Michael tore through my phone, you should have seen him, his thumbs were on fire, I swear! Anyway, he found the numbers for your brother, mother and even the old number I had for your dad and we gave it all to him. We even told him where you worked. "It was only then that the sneaky shit told us you were fine." Now Julia paused and continued in a reproachful tone of voice, "Apparently, our neighbors, the Fletchers, called the police and said that you had mooned them. Imagine our shock at hearing that! Mooning a couple in their seventies!" Julia sighed and continued with an undertone of pity in her voice, "Listen, Amy. You're a pretty girl and you'll find someone, I promise. There's no call for you to act and dress as slutty as you did last night. I'm starting to get worried about you. Call me, darling! Oh, yeah! Don't forget, he'll probably come to your place next! The cop, I mean. Not mister Fletcher. Bye!" Amy shut her eyes. That was all she needed. A public indecency charge. "Those fucking deaf, dumb and blind, old farts," Amy swore. "How the fuck could they not see Michael fucking me!? How the fuck could they not hear me..." Amy's voice trailed off. She was shocked at this development. She had no idea what to say to the police when they came around. Obviously, Michael had not said anything to Julia and that almost certainly meant that he had not said anything to the cop, either. Perhaps she should claim ignorance of the whole matter. She groaned in frustration. The best thing for her to do would be to say nothing and have a lawyer do all of her talking for her. "As if I could afford to hire a lawyer." Every penny she could spare, she had given to her brother already. Experimental cancer treatments cost an arm, a leg and whatever else you could spare. Amy looked to the door of her small kitchen. She wasn't hungry and she certainly didn't need coffee today, but there was an almost full bottle of bourbon in one of the cupboards. If there had ever been a time in Amy's life to start drinking before five, it was right now. She took off her coat and almost got off the couch to fetch the bottle when she remembered that drinking too heavily the night before contributed to her current predicament. "But not as much as you did," she said to her crotch, accusingly. In a sudden fit of anger, Amy made a fist and brought it down hard on her own pussy. Amy let out an agonized yelp and curled up into a fetal position on the couch. She hissed through her teeth in pain. "Fuck," she groaned aloud. "Why'd I do that?" The throbbing eased up and then the pain began to lessen, but the agony remained. Amy slowly slipped her hand under her skirt and into her thong. She gently touched the abused flesh and winced at the contact. It still hurt and she began to worry that she might have actually injured herself. She imagined what it would be like for her to show up in an emergency room and tell a doctor that she had punched herself in the crotch. She'd be sent to the psych ward and committed, especially if some cop showed up and asked why she had exposed herself to Julia's elderly neighbors. She lifted her hips and slowly slid her thong down her legs. She kicked it off and it landed on her coffee table. She put both her hands under her skirt and began to stroke and tickle the flesh of her vulva to make it stop hurting so much. As her fingers lightly tickled over her lips, the agonizing pain gave way to arousal. Amy didn't want to jill herself off in her current circumstances, but it was a most pleasant alternative to her self inflicted pain, so she kept at it. She kept herself aroused enough to not feel pain anymore and did not even think about approaching the plateau of orgasm. Amy slowly let out a deep breath and relaxed. The tension of the day was slipping away from her. The fear of police questioning went away. The shame and disgust she had seen in Julia's eyes vanished but it made her think of the fire in the eyes of the man from last night. The memory of their fervent fucking surfaced and made her smile. It had truly been the best fuck of her life. Her fingers found her clit and she gasped in pleasure. She thought back to Michael fucking her this morning. The memory of the act did not ruin her mood. While a part of her will always be ashamed of the fact that she had been fucked by a married man, she couldn't deny having enjoyed the act itself. His strong arms had held her down like a helpless puppet. His hips had hammered him into her like he had been possessed and his hard cock had felt so fucking good inside of her. In her aroused state of mind, Amy admitted to herself that Michael was the second best fuck of her life. She plunged a finger into her tunnel and decided to have another orgasm, right then and there. The memory of the tall dark stranger and Michael's savage act were enough to make her cum all by themselves, her hands were just the cherry on top of her many stimuli. Her hips began bucking as she approached what was promising to be the strongest self inflicted orgasm of her life. She gasped and squealed aloud as she felt the familiar tightness develop in her chest. She froze in surprise as her doorbell rang. She lay on her couch and gulped big breaths of air as she thought to herself, "Who could it be at this time of day?" She couldn't decide if she wanted to continue masturbating or open the door. She looked down at her body and realized she needed to make herself presentable if she opened the door. Amy pulled her fingers out of her crotch and gave them a whiff. A forceful knock came on her door, making her startle. "Miss Benson," a gruff, male voice called from outside her door, "this is the police! Open up, please!" Amy's jaw dropped in shock. A cop was actually banging on her door, probably intent on dragging her off to the police station and interrogating her like she was a pervert, or prostitute, and she was lying on her couch, jilling herself off. She could smell her own juices and realized the cop would probably be able to do so too, if she let him in. She cursed softly to herself and decided to pretend she wasn't in, until he went away. She rose up in her seat and checked her front door. She could plainly see that the deadbolt and chain were in place. The cop wasn't getting in without busting down the door. The cop knocked on her door again. "Miss Benson, I know you're in there," he called to her, "your car is parked out front!" Amy winced and her face scrunched up in worry. How the fuck could she salvage this situation? She debated with herself whether to get up, make herself as presentable as she could and face the music, or continue to sit still and pretend she had walked somewhere. It wasn't unheard of for her to leave her car at home and have to walk to places. All of her neighbors could testify to that. Her neighbors! Amy's heart raced anew as she realized half the neighborhood could probably hear the cop banging and calling out her name. She lay back down and put her hand on her forehead in dismay. What the hell was she going to say to people when they came round and asked her why a cop was banging on her door on a Saturday morning? She groaned as the cop banged on her door again. He rang her doorbell and called out her name. Amy stuck her hands over her ears to drown out the noise the cop was making. The thongs around her upper arms and the many amulets she had worn as bracelets fell on her face and breasts, reminding her that she was wearing a very slutty witch costume, sans panties. That was definitely no kind of attire to open a door in. Particularly not for a cop. Amy shook her head as the cop knocked on her door and said, "A complaint has been filed against you, Miss Benson! We need to talk about it!" Panic threatened to overwhelm Amy's mind. If the cop started yelling what the complaint was, she was as good as ruined. She had no idea what to do to get him to shut up and go away. She barked out a soft, bitter laugh and said to herself, "Abraca-fucking-dabra, I magically make this whole business with the police go away." The door to her apartment suddenly opened wide and admitted a portly, middle aged man in a police uniform. Amy sat up in shock. She swung her legs off her couch and smoothed down her skirt. She looked at her thong on the coffee table, for a second, before the cop stepped into view. To Amy's paralyzing shock, he unzipped his pants and began to rummage around in there. Her jaw fell as he pulled out his hard, short and thick member. He knelt before her and put his hands under her thighs to lift and spread them. Amy could only look up into his eyes in mute shock. They were vacant, even as he thrust into her wet pussy. Amy sat on the edge of her couch and endured the vigorous fucking. The cop's face showed no hint of an expression as he hammered away at her pussy. Despite the fact that her front door was left wide open for the world to hear, she could not stop herself from vocalizing the mounting pleasure. She didn't want to cum in her current situation, but the jilling from a minute ago had left her so close to the peak that any resistance was futile. Soon, she shut her eyes and screamed out her climax, even as the cop kept drilling her with his hard meat. Right after she finished, he slammed all the way into her and spilled his seed. Amy's brow bunched up as she noted his face was still blank, even as he was climaxing. He pulled out, put his softening meat away, zipped up and stood to leave. Amy remained in her position, her legs lewdly spread on the edge of the couch, until he closed the door behind himself and left. She put her knees together and sat up. She craned her neck and gasped when she saw her door had the deadbolt and chain in place. She blinked in surprise and set aside her disturbing ravishment of mere seconds ago to stand and walk to the door. She bent over at the waist and peered closely at the locked portal. She tried the knob repeatedly, only to find that the door was not budging, not even for a fraction of an inch. She worked the deadbolt and removed the chain. The door opened when she tried the knob. She closed it again and locked and chained it. Amy could not comprehend how in the world the cop opened her door in an instant and then locked it behind himself, just as easily. It baffled her even more than the fact that he had walked in, fucked her with a completely blank expression on his face and then left, forgetting all about the complaint that had brought him there in the first place. She stood there gaping in utter bewilderment until she felt his hot seed slowly seep from her overly sensitive pussy. Her confusion gave way to humiliation. She teared up and ran to the bathroom. She turned on the water in the shower and stripped out of her brief outfit. She was tearing the amulets and knick-knacks off herself when she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was disheveled, her make up smeared and her eyes looked haunted. She stepped into the shower. The warm water washed over her as she sat on the cold, ceramic floor, curled up with her chin on her knees. She couldn't decide if the day's events had been horrific or terrific. She had always had fantasies of dominant men taking her without awaiting her consent or heeding her feeble protests. Her lovers of the past twelve hours had fulfilled those fantasies. The man from last night took his pleasure from her, without paying any mind to her own. Paradoxically, this callous treatment had pushed all of her buttons and blown her mind in ecstasy. She had also dreamed often of being bent over and wordlessly taken by a forceful man. Michael did that to her this morning and she had enjoyed it thoroughly at the time, despite the fact that Michael is married. But that memory wasn't pleasant anymore. Not since she had seen the blank face of the cop that had just ravished her in her own home. The vacant eyes and blank face were the stuff of nightmares. In her fantasies, the men had always been eager and consumed with lust that her very presence inspired in them. They were the exact opposite of the cop. Amy shuddered as she imagined Michael having the same expression on his face while he had fucked her that morning. She shut her eyes and put her head directly in the spray of water, hoping it would wash away the queasy feeling that was welling up inside. Before today, she could never have even imagined anyone being so lifeless during the act of making love. Now, she was haunted by the memory of the vacant look in the man's eyes. Once the bad feelings punched through the remains of the lusty haze that had been enveloping her brain, she began to think of the consequences of the cop's actions. Should she report him? How would she explain the fact that he had gained entry into her apartment? Would any jury see her side when the cop testified he entered and saw her on the couch, her dripping wet pussy on display, sans panties? Amy sighed as she realized that any kind of report she filed against the cop would likely backfire spectacularly. The thought of what would happen if she didn't try to report him made the blood chill in her veins. The cop was obviously deranged. There was no other explanation that could account for his behavior during sex. What if he came back and brought with him a bunch of his buddies? They'd seize her and ravish her between them. While the old Amy would go to bed nude and touch herself fantasizing of such a scenario, the new Amy was sure she'd have nightmares of being fucked by a gang of expressionless men in uniform. She shook her head, as if to clear it. The more Amy looked back on her day, the less sense it made to her, even discounting the fact that every man she had come across had forcibly taken her. First her car started while her key was in her pocket and worked fine. She had to put the key in the ignition to turn the thing off when she got home. Then her bolted and chained door suddenly opened wide to allow the cop to come in. The door locked and chained itself right after he had exited. Amy swept her damp hair out of her eyes and shook her head to herself. She decided she was remembering things wrong. There was no way in hell that cars start on their own, without keys in the ignition and plain, wooden doors do not lock and unlock themselves either. She must have hallucinated those things. Amy nodded to herself and sighed bitterly. The only logical conclusion was that she was coming down with schizophrenia or some similar disease. She sat in her shower and let the water wash away her tears. Amy's phone rang and snapped her out of her funk. Her ears were full of water so she reached over and turned the faucet off. She shook the water out of her ears just in time to hear the machine pick up. Amy heard her sister say, "Amy, it's Heather." Heather's voice faltered for a moment. "We're in the hospital... It's Zach, he's..." Heather's desperate tone of voice told Amy that her nephew Zach's cancer was back again and that it was serious this time. It crushed her heart at the same time. "The doctor is saying the treatment hasn't worked as well as expected and..." Amy heard Heather draw a shaky breath and clear her throat. She continued in a suppressed tone of voice. "Your brother already called and left a message, I don't know why you haven't come yet, or why you aren't answering your cell, but... Please, come! Zach would want to see his auntie, too. Before..." Amy heard Heather's sob before she hung up the phone. Shattered by the worst possible news, Amy slammed her heel against the side of her tub and let out a bloodcurdling scream of frustration and denial. She kicked and punched at the unyielding ceramic until she exhausted herself. She lay down in the tub and cried. After her desperation had run its course, Amy heaved a few deep breaths to get herself under control. Her family was suffering and she needed to pick herself up and go to them and do what she could to help them, even if it turned out to be exactly nothing. Daintily, she stepped out of the tub and toweled herself dry. She took an aspirin to help combat the dull throbbing in her extremities and thoroughly blew out her nose. After that, she dressed in everyday clothes and applied a little bit of makeup to hide the strain of the day so far. Looking at her answering machine with its blinking light, she now knew she had ignored the message from her brother and felt bad about it. She shook it off. It's not like they were going to submit her to questioning regarding her absence. She put on her coat and left the apartment, locking her door behind herself. Her P.O.S. car started on the first try and purred as it ate up the miles to the hospital. She found a spot on her first tour of the hospital's parking lot and made her way to the oncology ward. Her brother Jay saw her coming and got up from his seat. He looked like shit. His eyes were swollen, red and haunted. He opened his mouth to say something. Amy stepped in close and hugged him. He hugged her back and they stood still and silent for a minute. Then he began to cry. Amy squeezed her big brother as tight as she could while he sobbed miserably. After he had let it all out, they sat down in the waiting room. Zach was in the recovery ward and they couldn't go in and see him until he was moved back to the oncology ward. Heather joined them and they sat together and stared at the floor in silence. Jay got up and went to the bathroom at one point. Heather scooted over closer to Amy. "So," Heather said, "Julia says you were at her party last night and that you were naughty." Amy tensed up. If Julia had spilled the beans about her neighbors calling the cops on her, she was going to go to her house tomorrow and rip that loose tongue from her mouth with her bare hands. "Who was he?" The Price of Magic Amy just looked at her sister without comprehending her meaning. "What?" "The guy you got together with last night," Heather said. "Julia says he was very hot. She said she didn't know him, that he must have crashed the party." Heather chuckled. "Look at you! Getting together with a party crasher. Was he hot?" "Yeah," Amy said, "I guess." She wondered why Julia would tell Heather about the guy from last night and not about the police visit this morning. "What was his name?" Amy had to focus to recall Halloween night. She had drunk far too much and things were blurry. She found that the details were more forthcoming now. "Sam Haines," she said, after a little hesitation. The memory of him fucking her was very vivid in her mind, but the dancing and flirting beforehand were still a bit fuzzy. "And was this a one time thing," Heather asked, "or will you be seeing even more of each other?" Amy looked at Heather and blushed at the way she had said "even more", knowing that Julia must have told her about the state she was in when her cousin had woken her up that morning. Amy knew Heather was dying for any kind of distraction from the daily struggles and worries of a parent with a sick child and she knew that her sister was going to keep pressing her for details, perhaps even a blow for blow of the previous night. She floundered for words and then saw Jay coming back. "I'll tell you all about it later," she said and winked. Heather smiled her sad smile that had become her trademark of late. They sat and waited some more. When Heather and Jay's phones went off, they stood up and walked off to talk to their concerned friends and relatives that were checking in and offering help. Amy took the chance to walk over to the payphone and call Julia to clear the air. "Ah, Amy, finally," Julia exclaimed, "Jay and Heather called looking for you-" "Yeah, yeah, I know," Amy said. "I'm here, with them, now." "Well, where were you?" "Hiding from the cops," Amy said. "What," Julia asked. "What does that mean? Is that supposed to be funny?" "No," Amy said, confused, "I mean..." "Well, I'm glad to hear you've got your particular sense of humor with you there," Julia said, making Amy bristle at the way she inflected the word "particular". "I'm sure your family could use all the cheer it can get at a time like this." Amy glossed over Julia passive-aggressive tone and said, "Listen, I just want to thank you for not telling them about it." "Oh, I told Heather," Julia said. "I told her all about it." "What," Amy asked in confusion. "You did?" That was it. She was going to head on over to Julia's place that evening and pull out her teeth, one by one. "Huh. She didn't mention it..." "Really, she didn't," Julia asked. "She sounded very eager for the details when I told her about it." Amy's brow bunched up in confusion. "Wait, what," she asked. "I'm talking about the Fletchers." "What, the old geezers that live across the street," Julia asked. "Those Fletchers?" "Yeah!" "What about them?" "Well, I mean," Amy couldn't come up with the right words. "Thanks for not telling Heather that they had called the police." "They called the police," Julia asked, surprised. "The Fletchers called the cops? When? Why?" Amy took the receiver off her ear, for a moment, and looked at it in confusion. "Wait, Jules, are you being very, very nice right now," she asked, "or are you having a stroke or something?" "Sweetie, you lost me," Julia said. "Like, David Lynch's Mulholland Drive lost me." "Don't you remember the cops coming round this morning and asking about me," Amy asked. "What," Julia exclaimed. "When did the cops come here!? Why would they be looking for you!? What's going on?" Amy realized Julia wasn't pretending, or acting. She knew her cousin well enough to know when she was genuinely surprised, and this was one such time. "Um, never mind," Amy said, "the doctor is coming with the results. I gotta go! Bye!" She hung up and went over to her brother and sister and they stood together to face the music. The news were very bad. They sat down heavily in the plastic chairs of the waiting room and stared off into space, shocked. Zach was still groggy when they let them in to see him. He gave a faint smile at seeing their faces and then went back to a medication-induced sleep. Amy heard their stomachs growling so she persuaded Jay and Heather to go get some food. She stayed right outside Zach's room in case he woke up, even though the doctor had said he'd sleep through the day and into the night. Amy sat there with her thoughts and they strayed to the weirdness of the day, before Heather had called her. She couldn't believe Julia had forgotten about the cops coming to her house that morning. She went back to the payphone and called her home number to check her messages. The first was from Jay and the second was from Julia, judging her for her behavior the night before and warning her that the cops had been there asking about her. She hung up and shook her head to herself. Julia had not been acting when she had called her earlier. Amy knew very well what Julia sounded like when she was acting nice and that hadn't been it. She had been genuinely shocked at Amy's question. It was the flimsiest of possible evidence to base a theory on, her judgment of Julia's tone of voice, but Amy began to piece together a hypothesis. The crucial piece of evidence surfaced in her mind. She remembered saying something to Sam last night. She had said something to the tune of being a witch and casting spells aloud and then having sex to give them power. The man had said, "Bargain struck," in response. It sounded very odd to her now, but last night, he had immediately kissed her and all her misgivings faded away on a tide of lust. What if she had struck a bargain with a powerful spirit from beyond, or something, and was given magical power at the cost of having sex? Last night had been Halloween, after all. Amy's brow drew down as she realized such a preposterous explanation fit the facts, as she remembered them, just as neatly as her competing theory of going nuts. She had said aloud that she casts a spell to make her car work. It had been more an expression of her frustration than anything else, but the car started on its own, without the key in the ignition, even. Michael then came out and did her doggy style. The neighbors ignored him fucking her and her wailing in orgasm until Michael had left and only then did they react to her nudity and call the police. They had called the police, her recorded phone message proved it, as well as the cop's visit. When the cop came, she had said aloud that she magically makes the whole ugly business of public exposure go away and the cop mysteriously gained entry to her place and fucked her with the most vacant expression on his face. And the door magically locked and chained itself after he left. Amy reminded herself that there were also perfectly reasonable explanations for everything that happened that didn't involve the supernatural. Her car was a notoriously unreliable P.O.S. and could have started on its own. Even without the key in the ignition. Michael could have sent Julia to the back of the house and then came out and fucked her. She had been very provocative, the night before, and he was only human. The Fletchers were old and probably legally blind and deaf and may have just failed to notice them fucking. The cop could have snapped. Police work was very stressful. She could find herself interrogated at a later date by a calm officer. It was a ridiculous thought, predicated mostly on her reading Julia's tone of voice correctly, but Amy had all but convinced herself that she was a witch, nonetheless. The magically opening and locking door was the tie breaker. It had been magic, Amy decided. Her own magic that was fueled by fucking. She sat up and looked at Zach. He looked so tiny and weak. If there was ever a time and a place to test out her theory, it was right here and now, on Zach. For Zach, she'd gladly fuck every doctor on the planet, if they could but make a good enough claim to be able to save his life and make him well again. She suspected that the trinkets and amulets she had worn while casting the two previous spells might be vital to the process, but she decided to try it without them first. If she did have magical power, she needed to know all about it and that included whether or not the trinkets had power to them. She made her way to the doctors' on call room. She opened the door and peered inside. There were bunk beds for docs to crash in and a big, soft looking couch. No one was there so Amy stood outside the room, in the hall, and waited. She guessed that the nearest man would be the one that fucked her so she watched and waited for a handsome hunk of a man to come along before she spoke her spell aloud. He was built like a nordic god, with his square jaw, hawkish brow and wide shoulders. He wore a doctor's coat and an easy grin that he shared with a nurse he passed in the hallway. Amy's breath caught in her throat as he came closer to her and she could see the arresting blue of his eyes. Her insides fluttered at the sight of the hunk. She decided this was the guy that would fuck her. "I cast a spell to make Zach cancer free and healthy," she said, still eyeing the hunk. Her jaw dropped and her heart skipped a beat as his face went slack, just like the cop's had been. He moved to her with a purposeful stride. Amy couldn't believe it was working. She was going to cure her nephew! She flinched as strong arms grabbed her by the forearms. A stocky, latino man wearing scrubs and the eerily familiar, vacant expression on his face seized her. Amy backed away from him in fright and squirmed loose from his grip, stumbling backwards through the door to the on call room. Female staff passed them in the hallway, completely ignoring the fact that the latino orderly had his hardening dick out in the open. He followed Amy into the room and the handsome doctor entered the room right after him. Two more middle aged men in scrubs, wearing the same blank expressions, followed him in. "Hey, wait," Amy said. She had wanted the handsome, blond doctor, not the other guys that she hadn't even seen when she had spoken. The orderly didn't care for her plea. He seized her again, more firmly this time, and turned her around in his arms. He made her kneel on the couch's cushions and pushed her till her upper body hanged over the back of the couch. Amy didn't resist as four pairs of hands held her still to work her skirt up her hips and her panties down her legs. The latino then stabbed his hard meat against her asshole. Amy screamed in denial and panic. She had never before had anal sex and she didn't want to start right now. The latino didn't care for her protest and kept pressing in. Amy grit her teeth to endure the burning pain of his meat stabbing into her bowels. He didn't give her a single chance to catch her breath as he thrust into her until he bottomed out and his balls touched her pussy. Amy's ass was burning and her head was pounding in a throbbing beat. She drew a deep breath to keep from passing out and the handsome, blond doc took out his thin dick and gripped her by the hair. He exploited the fact that her mouth was wide open to gulp air and stuck his dick in. He pushed in deeper until he touched the back of her throat. Amy's gag reflex made her whole body convulse, prompting a fresh bout of pain from her ass as it coincided with the latino pulling out and then pushing back in. Amy looked up at the handsome doc to plead for mercy, but the vacant eyes looking back at her were too terrible a sight to see. She shut her eyes tight and kept them closed for the rest of her ordeal. The men skewering her stopped for an instant and lifted her body. A third man slid under her and she was lowered until his hard dick impaled her pussy. Amy then realized that the rough treatment actually excited her. Being a powerless sex puppet was strangely erotic to her, now that she was experiencing it. The third member that was penetrating her met with hardly any resistance in her moist pussy. With her eyes firmly shut, she dug her fingers into the backrest of the couch and endured the triple penetration. She had no recourse but to experience all the sensations she was subjected to. Her whole body writhed and shook in a primal fashion. The cock in her mouth made her gag and writhe as her stomach violently clenched up to expel the intruder. The hard meat pounding her ass made her body reflexively try to get away from it and that resulted in her impaling herself on the shaft in her pussy even more vigorously. The man in her ass suddenly came, spurting his seed into her bowels. As he pulled out, she felt her filth rushing to pour out of her body. In a panic, she tried to clench up her asshole, but failed. Only the presence of another hard dick that plugged up her gaping hole stopped her from defecating on herself and the man whose cock she was riding. Her ordeal continued. Amy lost all control of her body. All of her muscles flexed in rhythm with the cocks that were stabbing her holes and she was getting closer and closer to throwing up, taking a dump and orgasming, all at the same time, without her having any say in it. She existed in a primal state that was reaching its crescendo. The dick in her pussy started spurting and she came at the same time. The contractions of her asshole were soon met by the spurts of the dick in her ass. Amy tried to scream in ecstasy but the dick in her mouth pushed in deeper and emptied a load into her throat. She was still cumming when the dicks in her mouth and ass pulled out and she was lifted off the dick in her pussy. Her stomach clenched up and she vomited all over the blonde doctor's dick and balls. Her gaping ass, prompted by the violent clenching of her belly, suddenly unleashed her bowel movement. Amy's mind went blank as her body clenched and expelled fluids or solids out of her every opening simultaneously. She was still climaxing while the man under her was being covered by her vomit, shit and cum. He set her down beside himself and stood up. She opened her eyes when her fully body contractions settled down. She was shocked to see him exit the on call room completely clean, just like his three buddies. Amy's post orgasmic bliss quickly turned into disgust as she felt her vomit and stool under herself. She raised her hands and saw that one had her bile on it and the other her shit. "Ugh," she said, "ew!" She drew a deep breath. "I cast a spell to make myself, my clothes and this couch clean!" Her hands became instantly clean and she let out a sigh of relief. The door to the on call room opened and the second man that had fucked her ass came back in, his face completely blank. "Oh, hell no," Amy exclaimed as he walked over to her and pulled out his hardening dick. She was surprised to see it was clean and had no trace of her shit on it. He raised her thighs to fuck her, but she grabbed his cock firmly in hand. As clean as it looked, she didn't want it in her pussy and chance it spreading any of her ass bacteria around. The man knelt still as she gently stroked his hard meat. Amy hoped this would be payment enough for the cleaning spell, a simple handjob, but the man kept progressing towards her pussy with each passing moment. Her strokes were only slowing him down. Amy started to pull his hard dick up towards her head as she kept stroking it. He stood up and pulled her head closer by her hair. Amy only had time to sniff the hard shaft and confirm that it was indeed clean before he began to press the tip against her lips. She tried to pleasure him by just teasing and caressing the head of his shaft, but he started to push in more forcefully with each thrust. Finally, he slid his cock all the way into her throat, heedless of the hand that had been gripping it and slid off in what must be a painful indian burn to the man. Amy grabbed the couch cushions with both hands as she endured the brutal throat fucking. She desperately gulped air at every chance she got. After what felt like an eternity to her, but was really just a minute, the man pushed all the way down her throat again, completely blocking her airway and let loose his seed. Amy fought back her gag reflex as best as she could. When he finished, he pulled out and Amy spray vomited over his genitals. As she gulped another desperate breath, she saw her vomit slip smoothly off his balls and down his pant leg until it pooled on the floor beside his shoe, leaving him completely clean. Amy coughed to clear her throat and catch her breath after the man calmly left. When she finally calmed down, she looked to the small pool of vomit in front of the couch. There was no fucking way she was casting another spell to clean it up. She went to the ensuite bathroom and took some paper towels to daintily soak up the fluids and move them to the toilet. She flushed and washed her hands, splashing some cold water in her face. She looked at her tired expression and smiled. Either she was a virulent lunatic that could make men go blank-faced and rape-happy in her presence, or she had just magically cured her nephew. Either way, she had just had an unbelieveable sexual experience and her maniacal laughter was appropriate at the moment. When she calmed down and made herself presentable, she went to the office of Zach's oncologist. Her smile faltered as the man looked at her and sadly sighed. He asked her to sit down and handed her a pamphlet on grief counseling and urged her to reach out and accept the help and support on offer. Amy insisted that Zach was going to be just fine, but the doctor went over the test results from earlier with her and gently tried to break her out of what he perceived to be a fugue state of mind. Amy rolled her eyes. She may have cured Zach, but that didn't change the recent past. She needed to cast another spell to get the doctor to repeat the tests on Zach and to get everyone to just accept Zach's newfound health. She stood up and walked around the desk, saying, "I cast a spell to make you repeat Zach's tests and have everyone accept his newfound health without much question." The oncologist's face went blank as she knelt before him. His circumcised dick stood up straight as he released it and seized her by the hair. He began to shove her face down his meat with no concern for her discomfort or his oath to "first do no harm". Amy retched and gagged until he spurted his seed into her throat. She threw up again and watched her sick up slide down the older man's genitals and pant leg until it pooled on the floor by his chair. He zipped up and stood up saying, "I need to run some tests on Zach." He then looked down and saw the small pool of vomit and Amy gasping for breath above it. "Oh! Don't worry, come with me!" He helped her stand up. "Nurse! Help Miss Benson to the bathroom and get maintenance to do some clean up in my office, behind my desk!" Amy let the nurse take her to the bathroom. Once she cleaned up and calmed down, the woman left her. Amy stopped by the hospital pharmacy and bought a ridiculously overpriced morning after pill and took it. She then went back to her brother and sister and they waited for half an hour before the doctor showed up and broke the fabulous news; Zach was in perfect health! They jumped in place, hooted and hollered in joy. The doctor got to endure many kisses from the happy parents and even Amy shrugged and gave him a big, wet one. She had had his dick in her mouth earlier, anyway. Amy teared up and nearly cried when her brother and his wife thanked her for her help. They had meant the money that she had given them for the treatment, but that didn't stop her from feeling proud of her accomplishment. She was the one that cured Zach. Zach was released from the hospital and the four of them went out for ice cream and pie, laughing all the while. The Price of Magic By the time they broke up and went to their separate homes, it was late in the evening. Now that Zach was definitely ok, Amy was free to think about the grand change in her life. Magical power in exchange for being fucked. It seemed like a win-win situation with limitless applications. Despite everything working out swell so far, she decided to take a more cautious approach in the future. She didn't know who the man that had fucked her the night before was or how long the power would last, but she did know that the first thing she needed to do to, in order to be able to exploit this power, was to get rid of her gag reflex so she could get throat-fucked in exchange for magical wishes. She didn't want to risk getting pregnant, or infected by some nasty bug. She didn't know if she was protected from such consequences by the magic, or not, but she didn't want to risk it. Every fable and story toldof being "careful what you wish for" so Amy decided to play it safe and assume the worst. "If it sounds too good to be true, than it probably is," she thought to herself. She had only given a few blowjobs before and hadn't enjoyed them at all. Kneeling helplessly before a man and getting fucked in her throat was something else entirely and it completely changed her mind on the matter. The helplessness was such a turn on for her. She wanted to do it some more. As she was walking to her car, she saw a hunk of a young man checking her out. He was probably a frat boy from the local college, out on the prowl. He moved on without giving her a second look. Amy felt offended. "Pass me over, would you," she muttered to herself. Amy quickly checked that there were no other men nearby and said aloud, "I cast a spell to suppress my gag reflex whenever it's caused by a hard cock." She smiled and knelt on the hard tarmac as the blank-faced young man hurriedly walked over to her and pulled out his hard cock.