Bound, Part 1
(ff magic nosex)
Olivia
Oliva sat on the wooden floor of her bedroom. The cool breeze from the open window shifted her hair around her head in haphazard patterns. The new moon shed no light on her – she saw only by the dim light of a candle and the slow blinking of the hard drive status light of her computer. A shiver shot down her spine. “Why do you have to do this naked?” she muttered to herself.
She shifted to her knees; her slightly spread thighs would show her smooth mound to any onlookers, if she were not alone in her bedroom. She grabbed a piece of chalk and an ornate knife from a canvas bag, set the knife down in front of her and started to draw a pattern around it. She worked from memory – she had done this many times before.
Olivia chanted under her breath; her Celtic pronunciation was immaculate, for a pre-pubescent teen girl. Her lips moved rhythmically with the unvoiced consonants she uttered. In reality, she only had a vague understanding of what she was saying or the symbols she drew, but she was certain it would work. What she expected, she didn’t even know. The instructions from her books were vague and contradictory with different authors attesting that this invocation would have any number of results.
Most of the authors were full of shit.
She performed a ritual the night before and the nights before that, and her dreams were vivid and alien to her. She needed to do it again; she was addicted. Olivia put aside her initial goal – to commune with her mother – to experience those dreams while awake. Instead of offering incense, she would make an offering of blood. Surely that would bring her dreams to life, she thought.
She put the chalk down and took an old book, ragged from abuse, from the canvas bag and laid it over the knife and the intricate drawing she had just done. She crouched down and squinted as she tried to read the text in the dim light of a single candle. “What the hell?” She muttered at the strangeness of the instructions she just read.
She shrugged, put the book aside, and picked up the knife. She squirmed forward with spread knees to straddle the drawing she had just made. She pressed the tip of the knife against the soft flesh of her inner thigh and hesitated. “What the hell am I doing?” she said just before her hands jerked slightly; the tip of the blade pierced the skin just enough to draw a drop of blood. She quickly brought the tip of the blade to the candle – the drop of blood ignited in a brilliant shower of sparks for an instant before the candle extinguished itself, and she was showered in darkness.
Margret
Maggie stood in the doorway of her bedroom and stared down the stairs. She waited as the minister argued with her father. She couldn’t make out about what the men we at odds, but she knew it was about her, and her future. She patted down her light dress, not because it was in an exceptional state of disarray, rather, she did it mostly out of habit.
The angry murmurings stopped with a slammed door and her father ascended the stairs. “He’s gone.” Her father said as he passed by Maggie’s room. “I wish you didn’t have to hear that.”
“I didn’t hear him, father.” Maggie said in her soft voice.
“No matter. Go to bed.” Her father said. He entered his room and closed the door behind him.
“Yes, father.” Maggie said. She smirked and closed her bedroom door. She pushed a chair up against the door knob to seal the door in lieu of a lock. Maggie walked to the window and pulled the curtains open revealing a dim crescent moon. She watched as the minister drove away in his car – a perquisite of his position in the community; his headlights were the only source of artificial light on the streets which made him easy to track.
She struggled to pull open the window, only to be hit with the unseasonable cold of the night. Maggie reached behind herself and unhooked the back of her dress. The cloth slid easily from her form and pooled around her feet; she was not wearing anything beneath as she was already preparing when the minister arrived.
Her nude form was smooth and only showed the slightest hints of nascent breasts; a handful of stray hairs grew on her otherwise hairless mound. She knelt on the floor with her back to the window and pulled a canvas bag out from under the bed. She took a journal, a candle, a knife, and a piece of chalk and set them out in front of her.
Maggie opened the journal to a new page. She wrote a very short entry;
June the 5th, 1916
My dreams frighten me while I sleep and tempt me when I am awake. I must go.
Good bye.
Maggie lit the candle and picked up the chalk; she drew intricate patterns on the wooden floor around the ornate knife she took from the bag, while chanting in an ancient Celtic dialect. She held the knife tip to her chest and watched the flickering candle. Sparks burst from the candle in a blinding plume that extinguished itself as fast as Maggie did.
Encounter
Olivia trembled and stared into the girl’s eyes. The knife, the tip of which had just burned with eldritch flame, still in her hand. The girl’s icy cold hand appeared, wrapped around Olivia’s wrist. The blade was buried in the girl’s chest.
Olivia pulled the knife from the girl’s icy grip and tossed it into the corner of the room. She pushed herself away from the chalk drawing and the strange girl and pulled her knees to her chest; she curled into a herself in an act of self-defense.
“Who are you.” Olivia shrieked her question to the girl. She hid her head behind her knees. She peeked above them only long enough to see the girl was still there.
The girl held her chest where the knife was and fell backwards from her knees. Her chest heaved with deep panic breaths as she pushed herself to the window. When she had completely cleared the chalk drawing on the floor, she collapsed and lay totally still.
After a moment, Olivia crawled forward, crossing the chalk lines on the floor, smearing the image in the process. She knelt over the girl and looked down at her. The girl slowly blinked and took shallow breaths. “Who are you?” Olivia asked in a softer voice that time.
“Are you a demon?” The girl asked. She diverted her eyes from Olivia in an attempt to break eye contact.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Olivia asked with utter confusion.
The girl turned her head and looked directly into Olivia’s eyes with just as much confusion. “I gave myself… to the demon in my dreams.”
Oliva fell back onto her butt and pulled her legs out from under her to sit comfortably. “Have you been having …weird… sexy dreams for the past two weeks?” Olivia asked and the girl nodded. “That was me.” Oliva reached out to put her hand on the girl’s shoulder, but it passed through the girl and hit the floor.
The girl’s gaze followed Olivia’s hand as it passed through her body. “What does that mean?”
“It means you are a ghost, I think.” Olivia said. She frowned down at the girl and moved away. She pulled a shirt down over her head – not out of modesty, but to protect against the chill of the night air from the open window.
“No. No, that can’t be right. I did the ritual, to bind myself to the demon that called to me in my dreams. I can’t be a ghost!” The girl raised her voice in a growing panic. She pulled herself to her knees and tried to grab the piece of chalk, but her hand passed through the object every time she closed her fist.
“Whoa, whoa, calm down.” Olivia said. She grabbed her book and started flipping quickly through the pages. “You weren’t making contact with a demon. We must have been doing the same ritual and connected somehow.”
“But how am I here?” The girl asked, as if begging Olivia for an explanation.
Olivia put the book down and lowered her shoulders. “Look, I was trying to summon a ghost. I thought you were dead and trying to contact me through my dreams, ok? I don’t think I can send you back.”
The girl stared at Olivia for a long moment; a tear streaked down her cheek. “I’m dead?”
Olivia closed the book and nodded. “I’m sorry.” She said. “What’s your name?”
The girl wiped the tear from her cheek. “Maggie.” She whispered.
“Ok, Maggie. I’m Olivia. You are obviously a witch, like me, otherwise none of this would have worked.” Olivia asserted and Maggie nodded in agreement. “Alright. We should be able to figure something out to help you, but it might take some time. Until then, you are kind-of bound to me.”
“Why am I bound to you?” Maggie sniffled as she asked her question.
Olivia squirmed against the floor. “I uh… might have summoned you here… to live out the dreams…”
“You bound me to you for sex?” Maggie asked in disbelief.
“I really liked what we did in our dreams! Sue me!” Olivia huffed. “You’re here, and we need to deal with that.”
“And until you deal with it, I am your sexual servant?” Maggie asked with an indignant tone.
“You gave yourself away to be bound as a sex toy!” Olivia retorted. “Better me than some horny gross boy, or, you know, a demon who would just do horrible things to you for eternity.”
Maggie sat back and leaned against the window. She glowered at Olivia for a few minutes before her anger subsided. Olivia opened the book again, and searched it for anything that might help. “I’m scared.” Maggie said.
Olivia quickly scanned a page of the book, then set it aside. “I think you can, like, force yourself to be able to touch things. You have to focus on touching it.” She moved to lean back against the side of the bed. “Come here.” Olivia sad, and patted her lap.
Maggie crawled across the room to Olivia, and sat in the girl’s lap. She tried to place her hand on Olivia’s shoulder but it passed through the living girl. “I don’t understand; I can sit in your lap, and feel you under me, but I can’t touch you.”
“I can’t explain that. I guess you just expect to touch me when you sit on me, but don’t when you try to put your hand on me. Why don’t you fall to the center of the Earth?” Olivia said with a shrug. “Just think focus on touching me… in an… intimate way.”
Maggie turned her head to look at Olivia with a furrowed brow.
“It’s what you are bound here to do, so it should be the easiest for you?” Olivia offered as an explanation. Maggie to a deep breath and leaned in against Olivia. She pressed her lips to the girls in a deep kiss. Olivia’s lips parted and the two tasted each other’s tongues.
Maggie pulled away from Olivia’s lips, and tentatively reached out to put her hands on Olivia’s arms; her hands fell through Olivia’s body. “That sort-of worked.” Maggie said with a sigh. “Is that it? Can I only touch someone I am doing… intimate things with?”
“I don’t know.” Olivia responded with a shrug. “For now, maybe?” Olivia reached out and stroked her fingers through Maggie’s hair – quite literally. “I don’t know, but I’ll find out how to make you… more real.”