[Fiction] It’s a Kind of Magic – Part 3

So here it is! The belated conclusion of “It’s a Kind of Magic”.

…it kinda took me this long to realize that this thing probably needs content warnings, huh? Sorry about that. We’ve got: rape, incest?, mind break, vore, death, soul devouring, humiliation, BDSM themes… I think that’s it? Please let me know if I missed something.

Oh, and if you missed the first two parts this will make no sense. I’m not sure it makes sense anyway, but it will really really make no sense without the first parts. I’ll post them all together somewhere. Sometime. Somehow.

I was naked and wet in the dark.

“Well…shit.” Charlie said.

There was a loud clunk and a hum. A light came on, illuminating a cluttered backstage space. Charlie sat on a reversed chair and made a motion like striking a match. With a sizzle the tip of her finger caught fire and she lit a cigarette, taking a slow drag. “It’s always a bit more work once you figure that out.”

I curled my legs up to hide my nudity. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at her. “You’re sick! Just evil! That thing with my mom…”

She gave a soft chuckle: “Oh no no no, kiddo. This is your mind. Remember? Your desires, your fears, your fantasies. All you. Besides, you and I both would have had an easier time of this if your brains had melted out with your tongue buried in mommy’s snatch.”

I wretched a little, but my cheeks burned scarlet. “Can’t you just, I don’t know, let me go? Just walk away?”

She took another drag and quirked up one side of her mouth as she blew smoke. “Sorry sweetie, no can do. There are bills to pay to stay this pretty,” she said

“I’m not powerless here. I know that now. This is still my mind.”

She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Technically true. But it’s not worth the headache. I’ve been doing this for centuries. You’re not the first. You won’t be the last. You’ll get over it. You won’t even remember what freedom is, by the time I’m done with you.”

I pushed myself up and lunged towards her. I was not powerless here and I wouldn’t let her do this to me. I closed the distance between us, focusing on my anger and disgust as I did. I had looked up to this woman, fawned over her, fantasized about her. But this? This was the truth: she was an unhuman thing, a walking corpse. I would not let her take me! I screamed in anger and frustration and pain as my body was sheathed in a burning radiance.

She hissed and flipped backwards, placing the chair between us. And she used my own momentum to send my flying. I thumped hard into a corner and by the time I was on my feet she had conjured a black cane tipped in silver and had taken up a mocking fencer’s stance.

“You had a chance.” She spat, and a cruel smile bloomed on her lips. “Now, I’m going to make it hurt.”

I hesitantly took a few steps towards her. She lashed out and I dodged back. I lunged and the tip of my blazing fist passed to the right of her head as she leaned out of the way just a bit too slowly. A thin slice appeared on her cheek where my knuckle grazed her, trailing black wisps of smoke. She cursed in a language I didn’t know, hauled back with her free hand and slapped me across the face with enough force that I staggered back and fell on my ass.

She advanced on me, but I swept at her legs and she jumped back, giving me time to stumble back up to my feet. I wobbled a bit and my light flickered. I heard Charlie snicker, “You can’t keep this up.”

I bit back my fear and focused, starting to shine bright again. “Try me.”

With a snarl she leapt at me, cane raised back, only to find my knee colliding with her stomach. She hissed and dropped the cane as I clumsily wrestled her to the ground, trying to hold her to me and let my righteous anger burn her. She wriggled and hissed like a cat dropped in a bath and eventually squirmed out from under me. Her boot collided hard with my chest over and over again, and I heard a snap as I squirmed helpless on the floor.

“You bitch,” Charlie said as she pulled herself up. Her clothes and body were tatters, flesh weeping and blistered. She held out a blackened hand, the glove had burned away against her skin, and the cane whistled across the room back to its owner. “What the hell makes you hate me this much? We both know you fantasize about me.” Her words were ragged and there was pain in her voice.

I pushed myself up on one arm, tried to struggle to my feet, and failed. I pressed my face against the cool wood of the floor and kept trying to tell myself that this wasn’t really my body, these almost certainly broken ribs were a figment of my imagination. “I didn’t just fantasize about you.” I spat. I heard her boots walking slowly towards me. I knew I had to get up. I couldn’t just lay here. I had to fight her. “You were my first crush, you were my hero.” She stopped. And then I felt her boot push into my shoulder, forcibly rolling me onto my back. She stood over me, horrible and beautiful.

I struggled for air as I tried to speak, though I don’t know if it was for myself or for her, “This is my-”. She drove the tip of the cane down through my forehead. My mind split into pieces.

…the other girls in the locker room giggled as I sunk naked to my knees in front of Charlie, half terrified and half aroused. I knew what they all said about me, and now they would know the truth. I closed my eyes and felt a tear drip down my face as I leaned in and gently took her labia between my lips, tongue trailing along her sweet and perfect slit…

…I was lost in the dark, but I knew I was not alone. Some thing was in here with me, I could hear it breathing. And soon I could feel it’s skin on my skin as the tentacles wrapped around me and inside me and through me. They slid between my legs and down my throat and into my ears and began to fill me with her will…

…she enclosed my entire body in one black clawed hand and swept me from the ground up towards that terrifying maw. The heat of her throat and the heavy smell of lust on her breath made my head swim as I struggled and screamed, sliding down her throat…

….We fought on a rooftop: spandex, masks, the whole nine yards. She wouldn’t escape me again! I definitely wouldn’t wind up trussed up in the tatters of my own outfit drooling like a silly slut for the police to find. Not this time! Wait, why was my body getting hot? Oh shit…

…I was so pretty and perfect, so perfect that I couldn’t move. I could never move. Not to speak, not to fight, not to remove the wonderful buzzing inside that made it so hard to think. Charlie had made me so pretty. I was a pretty doll all ready to be packaged. I wanted nothing but to be played with. I was so pretty and perfect…

…I curled in Charlie’s lap as she pet my just where I liked it, eliciting a purr of delight. My paws and tongue found their way down between her legs, and I began to pleasure my beautiful owner in return. The sound of her collar locking around my neck was the most perfect sound I had ever heard…

And more, too many more to count. Nightmares, dreams, fantasies all blended together, but there was one constant: I lost. In every last vision, I always struggled and she was always too strong. My strength failed. I lost. I gasped and writhed on the floor as each defeat pounded into me. My body shuddered as each new horror filled me with unwanted pleasure and sent a climax burning through my brain.

I sniffled, thighs spasming, body oozing. “…my mind.” I gasped weekly. “…my mind. My…”

I felt the cold tip of her cane on my chin, forcing me to look up and meet her gaze. That stunning smile graced her lips and her eyes sparkled. “Not anymore.”

She pressed the toe of her boot between my legs and the now dim light I had struggled to conjure shuddered and parted eagerly before it, exposing me. My thighs flexed and my eyes rolled back as the wetness between my legs pressed against soft leather. She reached down and gently tousled my hair as I humped her foot and tried to hold back tears.

It was so much easier this way. It was always going to end this way. And I knew in that moment, when all was said and done, some sick, dysfunctional part of me wanted it to end this way.

Her fingers tightened in my hair and she began to walk, leaving me no choice but to try to crawl behind her. She led me, dragging forcefully when I was too slow, out from backstage and into the theater. Only instead of the audience that had been there at the start of the show, all of the seats were filled with shadowy figures of women bound in chains.

“Good evening, girls.” She shouted as if opening the show. The sound of her voice was greeted with a writhing mewling from the crowd. “Tonight, it’s time to welcome your new sister into the fold.” She pulled me up onto my knees by my hair, presenting me like a piece of meat. I was crying openly, hair and body slick with sweat, face puffy from tears, vulva puffy from lust. “And this one’s been so pathetically obsessed with me for so very long that she’s going to show us all what a good girl she is and put herself over the edge with her own hands. Isn’t that right?” As she spoke with a mocking sneer she drew the length of her cane across the slick mess between my legs like a bow across a violin.

“Yes!” I screamed. Over and over. Anything she said. Anything she desired. Anything to keep the pleasure flowing and forget everything else. If I just did what she said I could forget the fear and humiliation and loss and just have this pleasure forever.

She pulled me by my hair, putting my face against her thigh so close to the edge of her short skirt that I could smell her and I didn’t even try to hide my mindless, desperate desire. My hands went to work as I nuzzled my face into her thigh: one sliding between my legs, the other kneading my breast as I dripped a sticky pool of humiliation out onto the stage.  Time had no meaning. I could have been playing with myself for hours, hovering on the edge of bliss. In time, once she was satisfied I’d put on a good enough show, she gave me what I craved, and pulled my face into that perfection between her legs. And in that moment, as my pleasure crested and the penumbral crowd murmured and moaned, I realized that I had never had a chance. I came my very soul out and loved every eternity of it.

And the curtain fell.

I opened my eyes in the darkness of the cabinet, sword still sticking from my chest, slick and faintly glowing in time to the helpless thumping of my heart. It thrummed and burned as I hung there pinned. My body was exhausted, my clothes thick and clinging with sweat, my thighs beyond soaked. The sword was pulled out with a sickening sucking leaving an ache inside me that would never go away. No blood came out but there was emptiness where the blade had been.

The cabinet opened and the audience gasped. At first, I thought it was at my dangling corpse. But they looked right through me like I was a ghost. To them the box was empty. I screamed and no one reacted. I tried to struggle free, but I didn’t have the strength. I went lip and sobbed and no one heard me. With a musical sting and a puff of smoke, something that looked like me, appeared at the back of the theater, clothed and whole. The bizarre double smiled sheepishly and gave a cute little bow before heading back to her seat. As she sat down, she looked me right in the eye and gave a little wink. And then the cabinet closed. And then I was rolled away into the dark.

The stage hands eventually helped me down, stripped me from my clothes, and let me clean up a little. I would say that they were compassionate, but I’m not really sure we’re capable of that any more.

Later, I would attach silver cuffs to the arms and legs of a cute blonde. I’d watch the excitement in her eyes, marvel at the feeling of her warm skin, and somewhere lost deep inside I would mourn her. She would look up at me, innocent, nervous, a little tipsy. “Hey, I’m going to be okay, yeah?” she’d ask with a giggle.  And I’d just slightly shake my head “no”.

[Fiction] It’s a Kind of Magic – Part 2

I woke up from nightmares of flying and falling. Slowly, fragmented thoughts began to fall into place. This didn’t make sense. This was in my room. Not my room now, but my room from senior year of high school. I was laying back on my bed, nude, legs slightly spread, staring at a poster of Charlie that had hung on my wall since I was a kid. My body, slick and sweaty, hummed with pleasure. The air smelled of arousal. But this was wrong. This didn’t make sense. Mom had converted this room to an office after I had moved out for college. This bed had been sold. The clothes hanging in the closet had long since been trashed or donated. The stuffed animals, and books, and posters were in storage or otherwise long gone. How could I even be here? Where the hell were my clothes?

“Oh, sweetie!” a gently mocking voice said, “You really had it bad for me.”

I blinked as my mind struggled to understand what I was seeing. The beautiful woman hung up on my wall was moving and talking to me, suppressing a smirk and a giggle behind one white gloved hand.

“Go ahead; rub one out for old time’s sake. It’ll make all this go much easier. Besides,” she winked, eyes hooding, “I’ll enjoy the show.”

I scrambled up to sitting position and wrapped my sheet around myself as best I could while not taking my eyes off the moving picture. “What is this? What’s going on?” I said, trying to keep a whine of fear from my voice as I pressed back against the headboard. This was wrong.

The Charlie on my wall pouted a bit. “Exactly what was going on before. I’m on stage, you’re in a box, a sword is in your heart, and the audience is absolutely loving it, by the by. And it’s all going to stay like this until our business is concluded.”


The poster shrugged. “Business is one way of putting it.” With a flick of her wrist the sheet was jerked out of my grasp and went slithering off the bed. I moved to scramble after it. A pair of white gloved hands pulled me back, wrapping around me and jerking me roughly against the headboard. A similar pair emerged from my bed, holding me down, spreading me and leaving me exposed. Charlie shrugged. “Breaking you and sucking your soul from the wreckage is another.”

Lips I could not see found my neck and grazed it with teeth that seemed far too sharp. One hand cradled one of my breasts as the other searched for a way lower. My thighs strained against the unyielding grip of her other pair of hands. My body began to burn as her fingers found just the right places. I wished it didn’t feel so good. Not even the fear could overcome the pleasure of her touch. My head was hazy and my vision seemed to glitch as my brain tried to comprehend what it was seeing. The woman on my wall stepped out of the poster, fixed her bow tie, adjusted her hat, and begin leisurely walking towards me with the pace of a predator.

“It’s not like you really thought I stayed this young and beautiful naturally, did you? And surgery is so…mmm…pedestrian.” She smiled with her lips as red as blood. “No, instead every five years or so I find a cute young fan with a thing for me, consume her, and leave a pretty little shell that’s all broken on the inside. As a perk you make such lovely servants: stage hands, chauffeurs, and sex toys, and such once I’m done with the juicy center.”

This was a dream. This didn’t make sense. This had to be a dream. Why did it feel so real, and warm, and wet? There were lips and breath hot on my neck. Her grip was tight around me. Her hand toyed between my legs… I bit my lip and fought to stay focused as her double reached the foot of the bed.

“So be a good girl, cum your little brain out, and the show can go on.”

She leaned in with that smile, watching as her other fingers brushed my lower lips. My body arched and I trembled with a mixture of lust and fear. I whimpered a “No” as she crawled up onto my bed and forcibly locked her lips with mine. Her mouth tasted divine. It was better than I had ever imagined. My head swam. But this was wrong. This wasn’t how I had dreamed it. Her fingers moved within me. As she pulled back from the kiss I took the only chance I saw and began to struggle like mad. I managed to headbutt her more by frantic accident than design. As she reeled back and spat a curse, her grip weakened and I wrestled the other her hands away, rolled and stumbled, and half ran half crawled for the door.

I scrambled into the hall, naked and terrified. The door slammed behind me. And I whirled around. This wasn’t my house. I stood in a dark hallway that seemed to curve and bend. Identical doors dotted its length. I turned and glanced back, unsure which door I had even come through. The walls shifted and buckled as I tried one door after another after another only to find more hallway. With every passing second the panic was becoming stronger; my breathing was becoming more ragged. I felt more than heard her. She was here. She was walking the halls, searching for me. I felt trapped in a maze I couldn’t begin to navigate, and it housed one hell of a monster. And suddenly I turned a corner and a figure loomed in front of me. I screamed but had no time to stop.

I ran headlong into my mom. Just like my room, this wasn’t my mom as she was now. This was my mom from back when I was a little girl, right after we had lost dad in the accident. Right after she had almost lost me too. This was her full of energy and fire, back when she was busting her butt to take care of the two of us: late thirties, her hair a deeper shade of brownish red, curly where mine was straight, in good shape beneath the loose robe she wore every night before bed, and smelling ever so faintly of the pot she never knew I knew about.

“Whoah, hey, Vivi, honey, what’s wrong?” She said as she put her hands on my shoulders and steadied me. “Just hold on now. Hey, look at me.” She took my face between her hands and looked me in the eye as tears began to slide down my cheeks. “Did you have a bad dream? Is that what this is?” she asked, worry wrinkling her forehead as she began to stroke my hair.

I sobbed with relief and collapsed into her, arms wrapping around her as I trembled. “Mommy…” I mumbled as the tears began to fall faster.

“Shhh, sweetheart. It’s okay.” She held me close to her, gently rocking.

“It’s a dream. It has to be. This has to be a dream. It just has to be.”

“Everyone has bad dreams sometimes. Everything is going to be okay. Mommy is going to make everything okay. I’ve got you.”

I laid my head on her shoulder. She smelled so good and everything suddenly seemed okay. Gently shushing me and comforting me she slowly slid my head from her shoulder as she opened her robe and let me rest naturally on the warm skin of her chest. The feeling of her skin on my skin was so comforting, the smell of her surrounding me and taking me back to a time when she had the answers to everything. I didn’t even really process it when her bare nipple found its way to my lips and a droplet of liquid burst on my tongue.

Everything was going to be okay. Mommy would make everything okay. That was the only thing that mattered. My lips tightened instinctively and I began to suck, gently at first, and then a little harder as her milk began to flow into me. Everything was going to be okay. Mommy would make everything okay. That was the only thing that mattered. My head swam and a warm relaxation flowed through me as she kept slowly petting me, letting me suckle and mewl as she kept talking.

“I’ve got you, Vivi.” Her words hardly meant anything to me as I eagerly took in more and more of her milk. “That’s my good girl. My stupid, sleepy, horny little girl.” She kissed my head. “My dumb little slut of a daughter who thinks she can avoid her fate. Too dense to know she’s already lost.” The petting gradually turned into mommy holding onto my hair and she gently pulled me back with an audible ‘POP’. Milk trickled from my still moving lips, it fell from my chin as I stared at her with empty eyes, my tongue kept reaching out towards that source of warm happiness.

She applied a little pressure and I sunk to my knees. She opened her robe further and I saw the wetness between my mother’s legs. “Since you’re damned anyway, sweetie…” she said as she pulled me to her and the scent of her filled my nose and brain with pure desire, “…you might as well lick mommy’s cunt before she takes you.” Her firm grip on my hair pressed me between her legs and my tongue found a taste that was better than milk.

Something clicked in my brain. My eyes went wide. A staggered back and fell hard on my ass as I stared up at Charlie smiling down at me. I scrambled and tried to make it to my feet only to find myself stumbling down a stairway that hadn’t been there a moment before.

I tumbled into the darkness and lost my self.

And then I jerked awake screaming. I was staring into bright light, but I couldn’t sit up, I couldn’t move. Masked figures stood above me, dark silhouettes looking down and whispering.

“Vivian?” one of the figures said and leaned down, revealing a surgical mask and pale purple scrubs. “You’ve been in an accident. You won’t be able to move for a while. I need you to blink if you understand.”

Slowly, I blinked. And then I tried to look around to see what was going on. There were two other nurses, one in blue and one in pink, besides the one who stood over me. I winced as one of them put a needle into my arm and hooked it up to an IV bag.

“This will make everything a bit easier. I’m afraid we’re going to have to take some drastic measures. There’s no need to worry though. We’ll take good care of you.”

My head began to swim. Whatever they were giving me, it worked fast. I could almost feel it flowing through my veins, each beat of my heart filling me with more of their drug. The nurse in blue came over and whispered something to the one in purple. I didn’t really catch what she was saying I was too busy getting distracted by how cute they all were in their scrubs. That didn’t seem like what I was supposed to be thinking, but my brain didn’t seem to be able to focus on anything else.

The one in purple leaned in again and I just got kinda lost in her eyes. “-hearing me. Vivian?” She had apparently been talking. “Blink for me if you consent to the procedure and accept all consequences.” I blinked at how pretty she was and let my mind float as the nurses turned and conferred with each other again.

Without really understanding what was happening, I felt my legs spread by gloved hands and the warm wet heat of a mouth between my thighs. I had no control over my body, I couldn’t even curl my toes. But I had full, vivid sensation. I struggled to make noises with almost motionless vocal cords and one of them stroked my hair and shushed me. The nurse in pink began to caress my chest, stroking and pinching and my whole body was alive with feeling even as it lay limp on the table. In combination with whatever drug was flooding my veins, I was flying in bliss.

And that’s when the one in purple leaned in over my face and pulled down her mask to reveal Charlie’s face. “It was a bad accident, sweetie. You accidentally thought you could escape.” Giggling at her own joke, the beautiful predator held up an ice pick. “But don’t worry, we can fix that.”

I gurgled a bit and screamed at my body to move, but all it could do was lay there making strangled sounds and receive the unfiltered pleasure. As Charlie positioned the ice pick over my temple I struggled to keep from climaxing. She was a sick creature doing this to me. My mind raced with desperation as she pulled out a menacing looking mallet. I had to do something. I had to escape. This wasn’t fair! She couldn’t do this! The tip of the pick pressed cold and sharp against my temple as Charlie smiled with a dark sense of satisfaction. Tears ran down my frozen face as my body was wracked with a storm of fear and pleasure. This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t do this. This is my mind!


Htis si ym ! mndi