Chapter 4

Charlie was glad he wasn't going to have to book time on one of the ovens in the Culinary Department to prepare the sweet potato pie and green bean casserole he would be bringing on Thursday. With access to Amelie's oven, he could avoid the crunch.

"Okay, class, I know it's a Monday, but I hope you're all sober, because just like I promised Friday, we're sketching nudes from life today." the teacher said, as she adjusted the chopsticks holding her hair in place.

"Woohoo!" was the unanimous outcry from the male portion of the class. Charlie had noticed that none of the guys had skipped today.

"If you like that, then you'll love this: I have two models, so we're going to be splitting into two groups." Charlie, being one of the students who usually abstained on Sunday night, noticed the mischievous twinkle in Mrs. Oyama's dark eyes. She read off a list of names, and sent them into the studio to work. Charlie noticed that all the names were people who frequently skipped, and had only come to this session to see someone naked. He figured he knew what was coming, and wasn't disappointed as the models entered. One was an attractive, dark-haired girl in a white bathrobe that hung down to her knees. The girl looked at Charlie strangely, but then made a point of ignoring him. The other was a man who looked like someone had stolen Larry the Cable Guy's sense of humor, and it had depressed him so much that he'd gone on a ten-day eating binge. The man waddled into the studio, and somebody screamed. There was a sound people trying to force open the door between the studio and the hall. Mrs. Oyama laughed, as did everyone in the classroom group. "Grumpy Larry" closed the door leading in from the classroom, and Mrs. Oyama did the same for the one leading from the classroom to the hall and locked it so no one could come in. After covering up the small window in the door, she nodded once to the female model, who disrobed and draped herself artfully over a provided couch. Charlie kept looking up at the girl, and his sketch came out fuzzy, but it couldn't be helped. She had a great body, with supple curves in all the right places and boobs that were a generous handful without being too big for her frame. It was going to be a loooooong class, and yet, it couldn't last long enough.

Chelsea Smithe had needed some extra cash, so when an art teacher from the other college advertized for nude models, she'd signed up. The other model, some trucker named Gary, was a gag model for the class-skippers. As an artist herself, Chelsea could understand and appreciate this Mrs. Oyama's sense of humor.

One of the young men in the front row had caught her eye. Her roommate, Chelsea Smith, had told her (at length, repeatedly) about a wonderful, new boyfriend she'd met at the Seven-Eleven, who had a magic-weilding, bisexual girlfriend who had used her magic powers to give Smith a huge, new rack. The girl couldn't stop playing with her new boobs, frigging herself to a frenzy and moaning this boy's name.

So, that's Charlie, huh? Smithe thought to herself, then realized she was staring and looked away. The scream from the studio provided a momentary, and amusing, distraction--along with the sounds of attempted escape. Soon, it was business time, however, and she shucked out of her robe. She'd done this before, so it was no big. Except, she couldn't help looking at this Charlie person ... and he at her. Her nipples hardened despite herself, although she could say she'd been cold. Charlie's lines were far too short; his sketch was going to come out fuzzy.

Then she realized she had an itch between her shoulder blades. Another one appeared at the end of her nose. This was going to be a loooooooooooong class, and it couldn't be over soon enough.

"I'm really very surprised at being asked here." Pastor Brown said as he followed a bishop down the corridor. "I mean, being a Protestant and all."

"Some things are important enough to set aside such differences." the bishop responded. The pastor was left in a waiting room with a lay priest. This other man's name was Father Hernando, a Spaniard. Pastor Brown's experience with Hispanic immigrants proved an asset as the two conversed in Spanish.

"So, why are you here?" asked Hernando.

"I saw a battle between two sorceresses, right outside my own church." Brown replied. "A member of my congregation bounced back an evil spell at the one who cast it. I went on the internet to see if I could find out more about it, but found mostly fictional stories, until a message popped up on my screen telling me to pack for Rome and proceed to the nearest airport. When I presented my ID, I found a ticket waiting for me. First-class, can you believe it?"

"I can." Father Hernando said. "I heard the name of a sorceress repeatedly in Confession from multiple persons, and tried to figure out who this sorceress was."

The door opened, and the bishop gestured the two into the main office, where a Cardinal awaited them. "Since Spanish is a language you both speak, I trust there are no objections to conducting this interview in that language?" the Cardinal said, more statement than question. Both men shook their heads. The Cardinal gestured for them to sit, and proceeded to grill them. Father Hernando steadfastly refused to reveal the confessions or identities of his confessors, but the Cardinal didn't need that information, only that which pertained to the sorceress. Brown was surprised to hear Charlie's name mentioned as the rescuer of the confessors. When Pastor Brown admitted he didn't know the names of the sorceresses involved in the combat near his church, the Cardinal made a gesture, and the bishop withdrew a painting.

"That's her! I mean, that's one of them. She seemed to know Charlie and defer to him."

"What can you tell us about the other woman?" the Cardinal asked. Pastor Brown said that she seemed to be of Arabic descent, and described her robes as best he could.

"Merlin's Circle." the Cardinal muttered in Latin--another language Pastor Brown knew. He repeated himself in Spanish for the benefit of his guests, though they'd both understood. "Merlin's Circle is the ruling council of the Order of Merlin, an organization of archmagi deemed especially dangerous by the Church. Members of the Circle are given titles that the uninformed believe are their true names--a personal title followed by the honoriffic 'Myrdhynn.' One of the Knights Templar managed to kill one, Tashi Myrdhynn, two hundred years ago--and was turned into a tree by the leader, Ali Myrdhynn, as an example to anyone else who might oppose the Order. The spellbook belonging to that slain Myrdhynn has disappeared and resurfaced repeatedly since the slaying--always eluding any Church officials trying to obtain it. There are those who say the book itself is alive."

Something moved in Parson Brown's peripheral vision. When he looked, it was gone, but he thought he'd seen the robe of a Myrdhynn. The Cardinal lit a censer and began to swing it, chanting softly in Latin. The form of a man appeared, dressed in Myrdhynn robes. The Myrdhynn gestured, and the door flew off its hinges. He dashed down the hallway with the speed of a demon or a Jedi, leaping over a gathering of priests as if they were no more than green plastic soldiers.

"You are in danger. Both of you." the Cardinal said. "The Order of Merlin is jealous of its Satanic secrets, and will not suffer others to learn of them."

"Then, why did he not slay us right then?" Parson Brown asked. The Cardinal's expression stated that he did not like being questioned.

"Because his magic was dampened by the strength of the Lord." the Cardinal said. "Come, we will find someplace safe for you."

The room emptied. From behind a tapestry, another man emerged, also dressed in the robes of a Myrdhynn. He conjured a whirlwind that sucked up the smoke and a great many papers. His invisible state was restored once the smoke was out of the room. "Is it just me, or do these children get worse with every generation? In my day, even the most junior ghosthunter's apprentice knew that extract of dragonbane mixed with the proper herbs and set afire makes the invisible visible. Hmph. Ah, here we are." He slid the desk to the front of the room and rolled up the rug, revealing a safe hidden below. Opening it was a simple matter of moving the tumblers into place with an incantation and turning the handle. Obviously, the last time the safe had been upgraded was sometime around World War II. The Myrdhynn rifled through parchments as old as the Church itself, a collection not nearly as expansive as that in the keeping of the Papacy, of course, but certain things were more safely kept where thieves would NOT think to look, and magophobic they may be, but the Church officials were not foolish enough to keep all their eggs in one basket. A leather-bound volume emerged--a listing of books and magical devices whose destruction was a Church-wide priority, written by the hand of Pope Pius II himself--and disappeared into the Myrdhynn's cloak as an item of personal interest. A long-dead Cardinal's essay recommending suppression of vernacular translations of the Bible fluttered to the floor of the safe as the Myrdhynn continued to rummage, as did a detailed plan for the assassination of Martin Luther. "Here it is." the Myrdhynn said, withdrawing an old scroll from a corner. He had to use magic to keep the poorly-preserved and badly-creased scroll intact as he opened it. "Just as Ali Myrdhynn suspected." he muttered, then rolled up the scroll and slid it into his robe. He closed the safe and restored the rug and desk, then disappeared through a vortex, and the room was truly empty at last.

"Hi!" chimed a female voice as Charlie topped the stairs. Charlie looked up and saw Chelsea Smith waiting for him by his door. She kissed him passionately, pressing her impressive breasts against him and grinding her crotch against his.

"How'd you get past the guard?" he asked.

"I had a couple of friends create a diversion." she responded with a wink as he led her inside. "I didn't notice how quiet it was in here before." she remarked. "Kind of weird. I've never heard of a soundproof dorm before. I thought they were all built with thin walls on purpose so nobody can get away with anything."

"Amelie's magic." Charlie said by way of explanation. Chelsea peeled out of her clothes, having the most difficulty with her shirt, already stretched almost beyond endurance by the size of the chest it was obliged to contain. Her boobs bobbled delightfully when she finally managed to get it off. Charlie took one of her nipples into his mouth, and she arched backward like an archer's bow. Then he took the other nipple in his mouth so it wouldn't feel left out. His tongue played over the warm, stiff pleasure-nub, and she responded as if it were her clit he was tongueing. He smiled as she came hard just from the mammary stimulation, and brought her into an embrace while she calmed down.

"More?" she asked weakly. He led her over to the bed, maneuvering her so she wouldn't bump her head on the bunk above. He kissed her as his penis slid into her opening. It was just the two of them, and that seemed to suit her just fine. In the confined space, their hips did most of the work, and she did her part, bringing hers up to meet his on his downstrokes. She came again, and he came inside her as she was calming down. The tenderness in her expression seemed to demand some sort of response, but he couldn't think of the words to fit the situation, so he simply held her close and ran his fingers through her hair.

"Don't touch that." Amelie said, catching Steve gazing at a blue-green crystal pendant on a silver chain in a velvet-lined box near her bed.

"I didn't touch anything!" he said defensively, whirling to face her like a cornered rabbit.

"And don't look at it in the light, either." Amelie said. "It will snare your mind if you are not careful. Its properties aren't as powerful as the spell that backfired on me, but are very potent nonetheless."

"Oh. A hypno-crystal, then? Cool!"

"Get out." she said, eyes narrowing. He closed the box and scooted past her like a whipped dog. Amelie closed the door to the master bedroom and headed back downstairs. Master was coming in through the closet-gate, bringing the girl Chelsea with him. "Welcome home, Master!" she chimed, bouncing eagerly down the stairs. She hugged both of them, glad that he had chosen to bring Chelsea.

"Wow, Amelie, is this your place?" Chelsea asked.

"All that was mine now belongs to Master." Amelie replied humbly.

"Uh, okay." Chelsea said. Her gaze wandered to an old grandfather clock at the base of the stairs. "Wow, is that the right time?"

"We're in Spain, so time is a little different here." Amelie said. "I pulled some more money from my account, Master. Would you like to go to dinner? We could bring Chelsea with us."

"Can we go to Long John Silver's?" Chelsea asked.

"Sure." Master responded. They returned through the gate to America and slipped down past the guard.

Steve opened the door to Amelie's room, quietly creeping up on the jewel box with the hypno-crystal in it. Slipping the pendant into his pocket, he closed the box, crept out of the room and closed Amelie's door. He was as nervous as a first-time shoplifter all the way out past the guard station, but made it to the quad without incident. He put on a pair of sunglasses and mounted the sidewalk leading to the library. In due course, he met a girl coming the opposite direction, walking alone.

"Excuse me, miss. I found a bit of jewelry in the parking lot, and I was wondering if it was yours." he said, and raised the pendant up to eye level, but she dropped her books and covered her eyes.

"Oh, no you don't!" she said, angrily. "I'm not falling for another psychology major's hypno tricks!"

"Huh?" he asked, and she backhanded him to the ground, gathered her stuff, and ran off. "Owwwww." he groaned. He ran his tongue over his teeth to make sure he wasn't missing any, then picked himself up and spent several minutes scrambling around in the grass, looking for the pendant. Finding it, he brushed grass clippings off of it and wiped it off on his pants. "I need a different approach." he sighed, rubbing his chin.

Cyndi Lauper's "She Bop" was playing over the speakers as the trio ate. Charlie was enjoying an order of jumbo shrimp, Chelsea had a pair of fish planks on which she had poured perhaps a little too much malt vinegar, while Amelie was eating a chicken sandwich--which kind of defeated the purpose of coming to a fish place, but Charlie wasn't going to say anything.

"Sounds like a lot of work for just one lady." Charlie said in response to Chelsea's comment that her mother would be cooking the entire Thanksgiving dinner herself. "My mom cooks the turkey, and makes everyone else bring sides, you know, kind of a potluck thing."

"I'd never be able to get food past airport security." Chelsea said. "I'm not even sure how I'm going to smuggle these milk jugs, if you know what I mean." The others laughed. The song changed to Sean Paul's "Get Busy," and Chelsea started dancing in her seat--well, as best she could in the confined space. Her "milk jugs" jiggled along, providing a nice distraction.

The officer was young, Latin and, most importantly, an attractive female, so Steve decided to try his luck again. She saw him coming, and put her hands on her hips. "If you'd like to report an assault, you'd better try the precinct house." she said with an irritated tone.

"Huh?" he responded, then rubbed his chin, wincing at the bruise that was forming. "Oh, that. No, this has nothing to do with that." He approached closer, stopping under a street lamp. "I found something, and since I don't want to be a jewel thief, I'd like to turn it in."

"Precinct house." the woman repeated. Well, this wasn't working. He pulled out the pendant and held it up for her inspection, swinging it slightly. "I..." she began. Her expression slowly relaxed, and her hands hung down to her sides. Her mouth hung open, and she had eyes only for the pendant he held.

"You will obey." he said. "You will obey my every command." She just stared, starting to drool a bit. "Say it."

"I will obey your every command." she droned.

"You belong to me. Say it."

"I belong to you."

"You will be my adoring sex-slave. Say it."

"I will be your adoring sex-slave." she said. Steve adjusted his growing stiffy into a more comfortable position. He put the pendant away, and the cop continued to stand there, staring at the place where it had been, her eyes moving back and forth as if still tracking its movements.

"Follow me." he commanded. She shambled in his direction as he led her away. She followed him all the way back to the dorm. Smuggling her in was a simple matter of having her flash her badge at Bigsby. He didn't have the guts to interfere with police business, and so let her follow Steve upstairs unchallenged.

Steve led his helpless captive through the closet to the Spanish manor, and up to his room, where he closed the door for privacy. He had her undress, unveiling her wonderful body for his inspection. "My sex-slave should be aroused in my presence." he said. He was treated to the sight of her nipples hardening and her slit moistening right before his eyes.

He had her lay back on the bed, looking her over like a kid looking over the selection in the candy aisle. He took her nipple into his mouth and began to suck, but she offered no response, staring blankly at the ceiling.

What ever happened to the "adoring" part? he thought to himself. Inspired, he leaned close to her and whispered. "When I snap my fingers, you will awaken but still be subject to the instructions I have given you." He snapped his fingers, and the officer blinked her eyes, expression returning to her lovely face.

"I ... how did I get here?" she asked. "Why do I adore you for no good reason?" He smiled and kissed her, his hand tracing its way down her nude flesh.

"Don't worry about it, doll." he told her as the kiss ended.

"My name isn't 'doll.' It's Claudia. I don't know what you've done to me, but ... damn, I want you." Okay, maybe his technique wasn't perfect, but he could work on it. He shucked out of his clothes.

"Is this what you want?" he asked, giving his dick a slow stroke.

"Yes, dammit!" she snapped.

"Well, I want you doggy-style. Get on your hands and knees." She frowned as she turned over. "Just relax and try to enjoy it." he said. He slid his pecker into her wet opening. She fucked back against him as he thrust and grunted. He stiffened and ejaculated inside her, falling off the bed as his energy left him.

"What, was that it?" she asked. "Come on, I'm just getting warmed up!" She crawled off the bed and put her mouth on his cock to try resuscitating his erection.

Charlie led the procession back through the closet, followed by Chelsea with Amelie bringing up the rear. They headed upstairs, and Amelie paused at Steve's door.

"What's wrong, Amelie?" Charlie asked.

"I sense something." Amelie responded, sounding somewhat cross. "I'll join you momentarily, Master." Charlie nodded and led Chelsea to the master bedroom.

"Wow." Chelsea said, looking around. The first place her eyes fell was on the huge, King-sized bed. Having figured out that Charlie wasn't the biggest fan of malt vinegar, she left him by the bed while she went to freshen up.

Steve froze as Amelie appeared up above him and his mind-controlled cop. She touched Claudia's forehead, and the woman fell limply to the floor, sound asleep and snoring softly. Amelie picked up Steve's pants and fished out the pendant.

"I told you not to touch it." she reminded him.

"Um, sorry." Steve responded sheepishly.

"'Sorry, ' huh?" Amelie said. "You know Master doesn't like you borrowing his things without permission."

"Um, really sorry?" he tried. Amelie seemed to change the subject.

"So, what did you do to get her so frustrated?"

"Nothing. She's just insatiable." Steve said, covering his crotch with the officer's uniform shirt. She bent down to glare into his eyes. Between that piercing stare and the soft, inviting breasts that he couldn't touch hanging just below, he decided the ceiling was the most interesting thing he'd seen in a long time. He heard soft muttering, and her fingers crackled with electricity, like the end of a cattle prod in a movie. Terrified, Steve crab-walked away from the sorceress, while everything that he'd done and tried that night spilled out of his mouth like the morning after a particularly nasty binge. Amelie's fingers ceased to spark threateningly, but she advanced on him as he backed into a corner. "W-w-what're ya gonna do?" he squeaked.

"I'm going to fix it so you can satisfy your 'adoring sex-slave.'" Amelie said. "She deserves that much." She picked up Steve's discarded shirt, then touched his pecker.

"Ah! Ah! Ah, FUCK!!" Steve shouted as Amelie's magic enlarged his penis. He blew his wad as the spell finished, but Amelie caught it in the shirt. Then, she went to work on the rest of his body. Steve's flesh rippled uncomfortably as his muscles toned under her hands. Then, Amelie turned her attention to the cop, awakening her and dangling the pendant in front of her eyes. The sorceress whispered in Claudia's ear, and Claudia stared, helpless under Amelie's power, mumbling occasionally in response to a question. She snapped her fingers, and Claudia awoke.

"I'm not doing this for you again unless Master commands it." Amelie said sternly.

"What did you do?" Steve asked.

"I fixed your sloppy programming." Amelie responded. She stalked out of the room, taking the pendant with her.

"Master?" Claudia asked, crawling toward Steve. He looked at her, and saw the celebrated Latin passion in her eyes, barely restrained as she waited for his permission, or command, or whatever. He kissed her, and she wrapped herself around him. She was an awesome kisser, and he was erect again in no time. He disentangled himself long enough to get up on the bed.

"Come on, Claudia, let's finish what we started." he said--which was exactly what she had in mind. Pouncing like a tigress, she plastered him to the mattress and gave him another mind-melting kiss.

"Anything you want, Master." she said huskily. He put his hands on her hips and guided her onto his new, bigger penis. She moaned as she slid down his pole. His new size made her feel even tighter than before, but he was able to hold back. Her body moved like that of a dancer, and Steve was forced to confront his own lack of sophistication. His experiences with college and high-school girls were nothing more than blind rooting compared to this. Her body tightened up, shaking in a well-earned orgasm, and Steve could hold back no more, thrusting to maximize his penetration as he fired yet another load of semen, this time deep into her womb.

Much to Steve's surprise, his erection didn't fade much before returning--which was just as well, because Claudia wasn't even close to finished. Without untangling themselves, they rolled over so she was on the bottom this time. He suckled on her tits and massaged her luscious ass as his hips moved his member within her again. Claudia was doing things with her vaginal muscles that drove Steve nuts--and drove his nuts to queue up another load of spunk before he knew what was happening.