Out of the Trance
by Nocti Raven
Jake would never get tired of looking at Kelly in her underwear. The sight had been taunting him in his dreams since grade six. It had taken almost four years to get to see the real thing. The guys at school tended not to think of Kelly as one of the really hot ones, but she was beautiful to Jake. She was thin, but toned enough to have wonderful curves—just the slightest flare at the hips, tapering down into lean, strong thighs. Her breasts were on the small side, B cups at best, but as Jake had time and again observed, they were so perfectly round and firm and . . .
And she had a pretty face, too. Big, very big brown eyes. An upturned nose. Straight brown hair. It baffled Jake that the other guys, the jocks, the ones who could get girls the normal way, weren’t all over her. Not that she didn’t get offers, of course, but she got few enough that her veneer of misanthropy hadn’t yet been worn away. Jake had been her first. He liked that.
He had enjoyed their time together very much. But tonight was different. With Kelly it had always been personal, but tonight she was going to pay her dues a thousand times over.
What good is it to punish and degrade and humiliate if your victim can never learn her lesson? Jake certainly remembered the degradation and humiliation that she had inflicted on him. And evidently she did as well since she so readily reminded half of the tenth grade that day.
She had mocked and they had laughed. And a few hours later, here she was in his bedroom in her hot pink bra and panties, staring blankly at a wall like a lobotomy gone wrong. But she would be free of her stupor soon, because tonight the gloves were coming off.
“Lift your arms,” he said, and she held them out like Jesus on the cross. He could have just told her to remove the bra, but he took pride in how good he’d become at doing that himself. And he really enjoyed letting his fingers brush over the sides of her boobs while he slipped the garment off. He took her panties off by hand as well.
Kelly definitely was not like the other girls. Some were still girls, and others, the ones Jake and his friends had spent the most time on, had already evolved into women. But Kelly was both mature and nubile, suspended in a state of hyper-youthful perfection just like she was suspended in the dark mental prison of Jake’s spell.
“Lie on the bed on your back,” he commanded.
He pulled her arms and legs out spread eagle and thanked god for having a four-poster bed. He had tested the restraints rigorously and was certain that they would hold her. The shoddy-looking ropes of old t-shirt bound in duct tape were surprisingly stable, and YouTube had made Jake a very able knot-tier.
Lastly he placed a single band of duct tape nearly from ear to ear over her lovely soft lips. There would be no kissing tonight, but no audible screaming either.
He went over to his desk where spell was set up. A piece of lined paper, held flat and in place by four stones, with the runic circle drawn to perfection in magic marker. A cheap birthday candle stood in the middle, burning with that weird but soothing reddish tint.
Jake blew out the candle.
Immediately Kelly began to stir. Her eyes were still unfocused as if she were waking from a pleasant dream. Her jaw moved as if she meant to yawn, then right away she noticed the duct tape. The beautiful brown eyes widened with feral panic and the strangled whimper of a dying scream resonated from within her. She looked down and saw her body, naked and restrained. Prone. Vulnerable.
Jake was already certain he was harder than he’d ever been. He could practically see it throb through the bulge in his jeans.
He walked over to the side of the bed, wax-stained paper in hand. Kelly’s whole torso reeled with fear as she saw him. Perhaps she was beginning—surely just beginning—to put together her situation. Perhaps she was starting to regret her sins against him. He sat on the bed to her right and gently began gently kneading her right breast with one hand, and stroking her cheek with the other. She whipped her head back and forth to escape—futile, of course.
“Kelly,” he said. “Stop squirming. There’s absolutely nothing you can do to get out of this little predicament without my help. So why don’t you try—just try—listening to what I have to say.”
His dick twitched with glee as her head stopped moving. Her terror-filled eyes were locked on his. What did she see? His joy? His hatred? His hunger? He couldn’t tell which emotion he was projecting. But he kept on fingering that soft, plump little boob.
“Kelly, You must know how much I suffered because of you—for two whole years. Of course you know. That’s why you did it. You could have talked to my parents any time, said good things about me, and they would have listened. Then I could have been free and normal. But no. No, you told them you agreed. You told them I was even more immature than they thought, and that I really needed a babysitter.”
He delivered a painful squeeze to the nipple, then he slid his hand off that bouncy boob and over to her taut abdomen, so perfectly formed.
“But why would you do that, Kelly? Why would you lie—and I know it was a lie—so you could babysit a classmate? It’s because you liked how it would humiliate me. Even though I never did anything nearly that bad to you, you just didn’t like me. Maybe it’s ‘cause I’m a guy, and everyone knows you have some sick ‘no boys allowed’ complex. We all know you’re not a lesbian because of how you go gaga for Zac fucking Efron and those Twilight fucks, but any guy who’s real, who you might conceivably meet in this universe, is automatically your enemy.”
Then he slid that hand down even farther, tickling her pelvis where the pubic hair would be if she had any. She squirmed delightfully.
“So what did you do? At least twice a month for two years you came over and just treated me like a fucking baby. You bathed me for God’s sake, you sadistic bitch. You invited your friends over to my house to watch a movie, then you . . . my god, you fucking bitch. You pulled down my pants and spanked me. In front of my fucking classmates. In my own fucking home!”
He took a deep breath. He couldn’t get too angry now. He couldn’t show that he wasn’t in control. But it didn’t matter. In fact it seemed his rage had only frightened her more. That was good.
“You did all that, and you told everyone at school. And they all make fun of me to this day.” Another deep breath. “But that’s enough about what you’ve done to me. I mean, let’s face it: we’re both well aware of what you’ve done to me. Let’s talk about what I’ve done to you.”
He let go of her face to hold up the paper where she could see the bizarre markings and the blob of dry wax.
“Tell me, Kelly. Did you read Harry Potter?”
Her expression didn’t change. She was too terrified to even be confused.
“Just nod your head if you’ve read the Harry Potter books,” he said firmly. “Or at least the fourth one.”
She nodded weakly, her brows furrowed with . . . everything.
“Then you’re probably familiar with the Imperius Curse. You know, from the latin words for emperor and empire and authority. It’s the one that lets you have complete control over another person. And this, my dear sweet babysitter, is basically just that. See, my friend Alex—you know Alex—found this really interesting book a few months ago. And guess what kind of book it was.
“At first we thought it was just a joke. Magic’s bullshit, right? Well, turns out we were wrong, because we tried this spell, this Imperius Curse. It’s not as simple as saying ‘Imperio.’ You have to draw this circle, then light a candle, then say an incantation, then do a few other things, but I won’t bore you.”
He slid that right hand down a little lower, just tickling the top of her silky soft slit. She shuddered and cringed and winced all at once.
“Didn’t you find it a little odd that your fucking hymen was inexplicably broken last month? When you’ve never even had sex? It’s the curse, Kelly, the beautiful, beautiful curse. We’ve put almost a dozen girls under our spell by now, my friends and I. And you know what? I’ve had so much fun with it that I’ve come to terms with calling it what it is. Rape, Kelly. I’ve raped Sarah, and I’ve raped Beth, and I’ve raped Natalie. And God knows I’ve raped you.”
He slid a couple of fingers all the way in, and she reeled and her eyes squeezed shut and her chest heaved with sobs.
“Oh don’t be such a baby,” Jake said. “I’ve done worse.” Then he laughed out loud. “Get it? ‘Oh don’t be such a baby, I’ve done worse.’ Those are the words you said to me the second time you spanked me. You fucking bitch.”
Four fingers now, right in there.
“But seriously. As awesome as this magic spell is, it has one fatal flaw. You obviously don’t remember all things I’ve done to you. That’s because when I cast the spell, you go into a trance of obedience. You’ll do everything I say (and I often say, ‘strip, lie down, don’t move’), but you don’t really know you’re doing it. And when I lift the spell you forget the whole thing.
“You see the problem, don’t you, Kelly? I can punish you as much as I want, and teach you a lesson as many times as I want, but you never really learn your lesson. It was really cathartic, don’t get me wrong, but there comes a time when I . . . I don’t just want to see cum in your mouth, Kelly. I want to see fear in your eyes.”
And he saw as much as he could ever ask for.
He ripped his hand out of her and dropped the paper. He stood up and discarded his shirt and pants. Kelly arched her back in a new fit of abject terror when the hard bulge in his underwear came into view.
He grinned very broadly.
“Remember at bath time when you used to tell me how tiny it was? Remember how you told me a baby’s dickie belongs in a diaper?” He pushed the underwear down do the floor. “Well, you always were full of shit.”