Chapter 2: The Spirit

The dream haunts my memory as I wake up, which fills me with disgust as I think about what I did. I decide that no book, spell, or spirit is worth giving up my self-respect and dignity. I take the items for the spell and box them away along with the book, then use the moment to clean my room. The rest of the day is uneventful, and so is the night as I don’t experience any strange dreams or missing clothes.

My mood worsens over the next few days as I live through the torment of my female cycle. The cramps, hot flashes, headaches, and muscle pains make me more anti-social than usual. Also, let’s not forget about the breast pain. On the bright side, the swelling I get in my chest is the only time I don’t look so flat-chested. I don’t experience any symptoms on the third day, not even bleeding. I’m skeptical that my cycle came and went in two days, but even the fourth day doesn’t bring anything.

At the end of the day, I start to feel tired, so I get in bed early, hoping that I’m not getting sick. I wake in the middle of the night, which seems normal for me these days. I pull the blanket aside and see my nightgown is still in place as well.

“Sophie,” I hear a faint whisper call my name.

I stop myself from answering, having the suspicion that one or both of my brothers are checking to see if I’m asleep. This is the perfect chance to catch them in the act of being perverts, so I lie back down and pretend to sleep. I hear my name being whispered, again and again, each time getting closer. There’s a silence for a minute, almost enough to make me want to open my eyes, then I feel the blanket being pulled.

It’s a slow, careful motion as he or they moves the blanket from me. Not yet, I keep repeating in my head. I need to catch them doing something bad to leverage it over them, which means I have to let them get my clothes off. I feel fingers touch one shoulder, then the other, moving the straps of my gown to the sides. There’s a long pause again, making me worry that they stopped or caught on to me. A kiss to my lips almost startles me enough to make me jump, but I manage to remain still. His lips press on mine for long seconds, then withdraw before I feel my gown being pulled down. Just a little longer, I reassure myself.

Once I feel a hand on my breast, I open my eyes, ready to spring my trap. There’s nothing but a dark room in front of me. I quickly look down and see my exposed chest and gown around my waist. I’m confused, so I hang over the side of the bed and look under it. There’s nothing there either, nor anywhere else that I can see. I notice an appealing scent in my nose, but I can’t quite place the smell. My nerves calm, and I sit back in my bed and gather my thoughts. The scent intrigues me, so I breathe it in more, wanting to know what it is.

My body tingles each time I take a sniff. The tingling grows stronger until it becomes heat, and that heat rushes between my legs. Even though I can’t place the scent, I remember this feeling well. I pull my panties down just in time to feel the throbbing. Wetness follows, slowly beginning to drip from me. A voice in my head encourages me to touch it. I slump back, lying my head on the pillow, drawing in another breath to fill myself with that enthralling smell.

“Touch it, touch it, touch it,” the voice in my head continues, both soft and firm.

I move my hand down, touching the creamy-like fluid coming from my body. The voice tells me to rub now, and I do. My fingers are wet, allowing them to move slickly along my pussy and clitoris. Pleasure fills my body, and the voice becomes more urgent. Faster and don’t stop becomes its cadence, and I obey. After just a few minutes, there’s a massive wet spot on my bed, and there’s no sign of my essence slowing at all. The voice continues, now changing to don’t stop, almost there. My fingers are a blur now as if I were trying to start a fire on my clit. A strange sensation begins inside me, crawling out from the heat in my center, slowly at first, then it explodes. I’m scared as my body forcefully tenses up, though it feels incredible. I clench my teeth, my free hand grabbing the sheet of the bed in desperation.

I wake up slowly in the morning, feeling relaxed and well-rested. As I sit up, the memories of masturbation flood into my mind. I remember rubbing myself and having my first orgasm. The images of the wet spot cause me to stand up and yank my blankets to the side. There’s nothing, though, just my same old sheets. It couldn’t have been a dream, I think to myself. I’ve never had an orgasm before, so how could I dream about having one.

When I finish with breakfast and my chores, I go online to research what happened. I try different combinations of what I can remember until I see partial matches. Articles about wet dreams pop up the most, which explain various causes for them. After reading a few, I skip over the rest since they don’t pertain to my situation. Hours pass, and before I know it, it’s lunchtime, so I get food.

My mom takes Howard and me shopping for clothes to prepare for the new school year. Alex has a part-time job now and is starting community college, so he doesn’t have to wear a school uniform anymore. The trip itself is boring, consisting of trying on blouses and skirts, while Howard tries on shirts and pants. There are no fun combinations, no imagination, nothing, just the school-approved outfit and colors. I stand in the dressing room, wearing the last set, and find that the outline of my nipples shows through each top.

“Mom,” I say with the door cracked open.

“Everything okay?” She asks as she comes over. “Oh! Don’t worry, it happens to us all,” she says after I show her my issue. “Let’s get you some bras while we’re here.”

Howard makes fun of me at every opportunity, from my chest size to the size of the bras. Right before we make it to the checkout lanes, I finally have enough of his verbal poking and prodding.

“You’re just mad because you have a small penis,” I blurt out.

“Sophie, enough,” my mom chimes.

Both Howard and I have to do extra chores when we get home for acting up in the store. I’m charged with washing the clothes we just bought, which I’m okay with since I can be alone in the basement. The washer and dryer are to one side, and the other was converted into a small living space with a sofa, table, chairs, and t.v. I put the load in, then sit and listen to an audiobook while reading along. As I read, I notice the scent of the laundry changing. It’s a familiar smell, one that I like a lot. I walk back over to the washer, trying to find the source, when I suddenly remember what it is.