The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“So. What else can you do?”

“What?” John Galloway asked sleepily, turning over to face his bed partner. “What were you asking?”

Phoebe Carter sighed in pleasure, rolling over onto her side. She ran a soft slim hand gently along his deeply tanned flank. “I asked, what else can you do. I mean, obviously, you’re a wizard with some power—”

“Sorcerer,” John corrected her.

“Sorcerer,” Phoebe echoed, smiling. “Sorry. So, you’re obviously a sorcerer of a vast amount of power. The way you’ve had Steve, Phil and Anne jumping through hoops for the past few weeks, not to mention the way you’ve turned ME into your own personal little sexual deviant... your magic is definitely pretty strong. So... what else can you do?”

John thought for a moment. “Well, you’ve probably looked through the spell list in the Player’s Handbook. When the four of us made our... ahem... ‘deal’ with the dark powers, we each burned our character sheets as part of the spell. Everything on that sheet, every spell, and every ability I wrote down transferred to me.” He smirked. “Same for the other guys, too, although some of us kinda wish we’d picked our list of abilities a little better, all things considered.” He paused again, thinking. “Alright. Come over here to the window with me.”

Following her lover across the room, she stopped for a moment, considering whether to grab a robe or not. My role tonight is a wanton slut, she thought to herself. Stark naked, she continued across the room to join John at the open third story window. Pressing her breasts into the small of his back, she peered over his shoulder as he opened and raised the window.

“See that tall tree over there in the distance?” he asked, pointing across the yard. She nodded. Closing his eyes for a moment, he began making a complex series of movements with his fingers. Then, opening his eyes, he pointed the two fingers of his right hand towards the tree. “K’zzept t’chm!” he chanted loudly.

Phoebe’s eyes widened in shock as a bolt of white light illuminated the night sky. A bolt of electricity shot forth from his hand, arcing across the yard, striking the targeted tree with a loud bang. Sparks flew, and fire erupted from the upper branches. Before Phoebe could point out the fact that the tree was on fire, John quickly chanted a second spell, making a triangle shape with the fingers of both hands. “Ekkm r’trrl!” he incanted, causing a deluge of water to fall above the flames, dousing them instantly.

“Cool!” Phoebe squealed, bouncing up and down slightly, causing her breasts to jiggle against John’s back.

“You think THAT’S cool,” he murmured, drawing out the energy for a third spell, aiming yet again for the much abused tree, “wait til you see this. Xnnnl yep brrll!”

A wave of coldness flew from his fingertips, and the gently falling droplets of water froze, turning instantly to ice. The tree now seemed to be partially encased in ice, as if a rogue winter storm had blown in, despite being the middle of summer. Icicles hung from the blackened leaves and bark, making it seem all the more unreal. The summer heat would no doubt melt the ice within minutes, but for the moment, the entire area was encased in a sheet of clear ice.

“Wow... John, that was... amazing!”

John sighed softly, spinning around to face her. “No. The only thing amazing I see here is you, Pheebs.” Forestalling any reply she might make, he kissed her deeply, feeling her melt into him. His manhood stirred, and breaking the kiss for a moment, he whispered hotly in her ear, reminding her of her place in tonight’s little fantasy.

“Phoebe, my wanton little sextoy,” he husked, feeling her shudder lightly against him, “I’ve showed you MY magic tricks. Now it’s time to for you to show me your kind of magic.”

Christopher L. Connor smiled to himself as he heard the footsteps approaching. He’d heard the same sound for years, as familiar to him as his own name, but this was the first time that he knew for certain that it boded well for him. The steps paused for a moment, and Chris resisted the urge to get impatient. He was an impatient man by nature, but over the years he’d learned patience by necessity, how to wait, and bide his time. He listened, and after a moment more, the footsteps continued.

He’d waited fifteen years, after all. He could wait a few more minutes.

“Inmate number 29773,” the guard intoned, reading from his clipboard as if he hadn’t watched over him every day for the past fifteen years. “Christopher L. Connors, the state parole board has approved your request. Parole granted.” He leaned towards the cell door and snarled. “Alright, Scarface, get yer sorry ass into yer damned wheelchair and wheel yer sorry ass out of my cell!”

Touching the burned left side of his face briefly, Chris hefted himself into the chair. Turning his chair to face the guard he chuckled. ”Your cell, Harrison?” he said with an evil grin. “What happened? Did the Warden finally gotten wind of all that butt-fucking you do with the boys in D Block, or did he catch you getting it on with Brutus, the guard dog for the main gate?”

“Oh, har dee har har,” Harrison growled, taking his billy club from his belt. “Yer a funny guy, Connors. A regular laugh riot. We’re really gonna miss you once you’re out of here. But, you’re not out of here YET, are you?” he said, leaning forward menacingly. “If I just happened to rough you up one more time for old time’s sake, I don’t think the Warden would even bat an eye.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Harrison... I didn’t mean to piss you off. I heard you took it pretty hard when Brutus broke it off with you for the Warden’s prize Golden Retriever Roxie—”

“That’s it!’ Harrison yelled, grabbing Chris up by his shirt tail. “You just crossed the line, you foul-mouthed little shit! I’m going to introduce you to a world of hurt that you’re gonna remember long after you’ve left this prison.”

“Not this time,” Chris said smugly, wiggling his fingers strangely. “This time, it’s YOUR turn to suffer! G’rzzzt!”

Harrison glanced up as a bright light on the wall caught his attention. His eyes widened as a shudder ran through him. Pain exploded within him like a bomb, and a strangled gasp escaped his mouth as he crumpled, falling to the ground, trembling as his pain wracked body shook uncontrollably. Chris merely smiled, straightening his shirt.

“Ah, what’s wrong, Harrison? You don’t like my Symbol of Pain? And after all the time and effort I went through to make it specially for you. I guess you don’t remember the day I Enthralled you, and convinced you to smuggle in the rather expensive material components I needed to cast this particular spell.” He chuckled. “Probably because I always made you forget about it afterwards. Still, you did all the legwork that enabled me to... ahem, CONVINCE the parole board that I was fully rehabilitated and ready to return to society again. So... I figured it was only fitting that I used some of the diamonds and opals you brought me to inscribe a symbol for you to enjoy.”

Rolling out of the cell, Chris glanced around one last time at the room that had been his home for just slightly less than half of his life. Arrested at the age of eighteen, just barely having reached manhood, and betrayed by those he once counted as his closest friends, the only thing that had kept him going was the thought of this day.

The day he would get his revenge.

“Well, Harrison,” he said, closing the cell door behind him, “as much fun as it is watching you twitch and jerk like a fish out of water, I really do have better things to do.” He cracked his knuckles loudly. “It’s time I went and looked up a few old friends of mine.” Whistling softly, he rolled himself down the long hallway, towards the cell block entry way.”

Phoebe walked down the hallways happily, barely resisting the urge to skip. Final exam grades wouldn’t be posted until the end of the week, but she already knew the scores she’d receive. A happy giggle escaped her lips. She was, literally, as happy as the proverbial school girl. And why not? she thought to herself, Master told me that during class time I would play the role of a bright, studious student, and damned if that isn’t exactly what I did! She shook her head in amazement. It’s just... incredible. Three months ago I was struggling to maintain a C average in Calculus, even with late night study sessions and tutoring on the side. But a simple command from the man who so lovingly dominate me, and ZAP! I’m an A+ student! Hell, if I did as well on this last exam as I think I did, I might just make the Dean’s List!

“Yo! Pheebs!” Phil called out to her, running down the call to catch up. “Where are you off to so fast? I wanted to ask how you did on old man Pasquarello’s test.”

Phoebe shrugged. “Um, I think I did okay. John’s been... um, tutoring me, and my grade have really improved over the past few weeks.”

“John, eh?” Phil chuckled. “Really, Pheebs... I just don’t get it! I can’t see what you see in that old guy! I mean, yeah, he IS kinda cool with the way he runs our D&D game, and now that we hang out a bit, I can grudgingly admit he’s not THAT bad. But... the guy’s like forty years old!”

“He’s thirty-two, Phil,” she half-growled, pushing past him. “Geez! Do the math. No wonder you’re only doing a little better than I was in Cal a few months ago.”

“You see!” he shouted dramatically. “That’s what I meant! A few months ago, you would have laughed and said ‘Forty? He’s gotta be pushing fifty at least’ or something like that! Now. you’re all lovey-dovey with him! Do you remember the day he broke up our game by ruining the ending I’d set up? You stormed off after him, determined to give him a piece of your mind!”

Yeah, she thought ironically to herself. I gave him a piece, and he ended up taking the whole thing.

“Since then, you’ve been like his best friend, or something,” Phil continued. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t have anything against my roommate. It’s just... the first time I came home to find you and he in bed together, I thought I was gonna have a stroke!”

Phoebe chuckled at the memory. At the time, John had mentioned that he could simply make Phil forget what he’d seen, but she’d convinced him to let it go. Everyone will figure it out sooner or later, no matter how well we play the role of ‘just good friends’, she’d reasoned. We might as well just let things play out anyway, and see what they all think.

“My point is... what’s he got that I don’t?”

“A ten-inch cock,” Phoebe purred seductively, pushing past a stunned Phil, “and the knowledge of just how to use it!” She glanced back at Phil a moment later, to see the same stunned look on his face.

Leaving the building, she turned to head across the quad, when a sparkle of light caught her eye. There, on the side of the building, in plain sight of anyone who might wander by, a floating disembodied hand began writing a message:

“Pheebs, sorry to catch you off guard this way, but I have a surprise for you. Meet me at the Marriot Hotel down on 5th street at three o’clock. See you soon!—John”

As soon as she finished reading the strangely scrawled note, it vanished. Ginger, a classmate of hers, frowned, staring up in the direction she was looking. “What is it, Phoebe? What are you looking at?”

Phoebe blinked. “You mean... you didn’t just see that, just now?”

“The Math building?” Ginger replied sarcastically. “Yeah, I’ve seen it before, like, every day for the past two years.” Shaking her head, she walked away, muttering.

“Heh. Guess I’m the only one who could see it. So, I guess John hasn’t lost his mind after all,” Phoebe chuckled softly, “just made my friends think I’ve lost mine.” Turning to the left, she headed off campus.

The phone rang. John checked the Caller ID, then sighed heavily. He let it ring a few more times, debating whether or not to answer, then, finally, he picked up the phone.

“Richie. Why are you calling me?”

A deep baritone laugh sounded from the other end. “And a very nice hello to you too, Johnny Boy. More than fifteen years since we’ve so much as spoken, and that’s the best you can do?”

Rolling his eyes, John took a deep breath. “Sorry. Hey, Richie! How ya been? How’s life treating you these days? Dating anyone? Okay... is that enough small talk bullshit to get to the reason you called me?”

“Yeah, yeah. Fine. After the way we parted company I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything different. John... he’s out.”

A chill ran down John’s spine. He knew exactly what those words meant, but he asked the question anyway. “Who, Rich? Who’s out?”

“Chris. He’s out of jail. They gave him parole, John. Or... well, knowing what we know, he probably convinced them to let him do.”

John closed his eyes in dread. Sixteen years ago, he and three of his closest friends had discovered an old book of spells. Tattered and worn, it was half rotted away, and the parts that were whole were mostly illegible, but they had managed to recover on page intact that described a ritual to ‘invoke great powers’. Teenagers, not really believing but after a few hits of pot, willing to try pretty much anything, they’d performed the ritual one night after they’d finished their game. For himself, he didn’t remember all of what occurred that night—the memories were hazy at best—but afterwards, they’d all received powers they’d never dreamed could be obtained.

“I thought he was supposed to serve twenty years? By my count, that’s five years early.” He sighed deeply. “It goes without saying that he’s planning on coming after me?”

“Yeah. It goes without saying.”

“Damn. And I don’t suppose he’s gotten any better with his powers over the years despite being locked away in a cell for the past fifteen years. Dammit! This is just the LAST thing I need right now!”

There was silence between them for several minutes. Then: “Look... Rich. I know there’s a lot of unresolved issues between us. It’s not your fault... well, not entirely your fault. It was a bad time... for all of us. You didn’t have to call and warn me... but I appreciate that you did. Thanks.”

A deep sigh. “You know, John, I can honestly say there are very few things in my life that I regret. I’m a bastard. I admit it freely. I can count on one hand the number of people in my life that have ever been anything close to decent to me without trying to get something in return. What happened to your uncle back then... the way we all ganged up on you. John... what I’m trying to say is... I’m sorry.”

John nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, Rich. That means a lot. You’re not the only one with... regrets.” He hung up the phone.

He glanced over at the box on his desk, a surprise gift for Phoebe. He smiled slightly. She’d no doubt say he was being old-fashioned, but being fifteen years her senior, nearly every gesture of affection from him seemed ‘old fashioned’. Still, with Chris Collins getting out of jail, I guess I’ll have to cancel tonight’s festivities. He dialed her cell, and got her voice mail. “Hey, you. Sorry. Know its short notice, but I’ve had something come up, so we’ll have to cancel tonight. I’ll call you later and explain. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

Opening his closet, he dug through his steamer trunk until he found an old, dog-eared folder sealed in a large Ziploc bag. Sighing deeply, he opened it, removed the papers inside, and began reading.

Phoebe knew she was in deep trouble.

She’d arrived at the hotel precisely at 3PM, as requested, but instead of her imaginative, kinky, and virile lover, she’d found a scruffy-looking bearded guy with burn scars on the side of his face, sitting in a wheelchair waiting for her. Before she could do more than gasp in surprise, she’d found herself frozen, locked in place, unable to move a muscle. Having felt its effect before, she’d recognized it immediately for what it was— a Hold Person spell. Her terror reached new heights as the unsavory man looked up at her in satisfaction.

“Hmmm. Not bad,” he murmured softly, slowly wheeling himself around to look at her from all sides. “Not bad at all. I’ll say one thing for you, Johnny, you certainly do have nice tastes in girls.” Pulling to a stop in front of her, he grinned. “You know, you look a lot like my old girlfriend, Elizabeth. She was just a few years younger than you are now when she died... but I can still see her face, perfectly, in my head.” He sighed. “You’ll have to excuse me for being rude. Having spent the last fifteen years in prison, I’m obviously a little lacking in manners. My name is Chris Collins.”

Prison? Dead girlfriend? Oh my God! Phoebe thought wildly to herself. Some crazy psycho killer wizard has me at his mercy! He’s probably gonna rape me and kill me! I’ve got to get out of here! I’ve got to break free of this spell!

Chris chuckled softly, seeing the fear in her eyes. “Oh, now, what’s wrong, Phoebe? Afraid I’m planning to rape you, then gut you like a fish? Well my dear, not everyone that’s served time in jail is a psycho killer. In fact, you’re completely safe in here with me... certainly safer in here than you EVER were with that son of a bitch, John Galloway.” He took a deep breath, calming himself down.

“Your... boyfriend, he’s the reason I served hard time. You see, I’m one of his old dear friends from back in the day... one of the four that found an old spell book and used it to gain real life magical powers. We were young, a little stupid, thinking we were all invincible. But we were friends. Amigos. Comrades. At least, I always thought so. But then, one day, John just decides he’d had enough... as if he was so much BETTER than the rest of us! He wanted to ‘go solo’, and when we tried to make him stay, he turned on us. Attacked us. Did THIS to me,” he said, gesturing to his face and his legs, “and killed my girlfriend, Elizabeth.”

Yeah, right, Phoebe thought to herself. I don’t know you from Job, and you’re trying to convince me that John is some kind of bloodthirsty killer? No way. After all this time, I probably know him better than anyone else, even his parents. His a bit dark, but he’s no killer. Suddenly, mobility returned, and with a lurch, Phoebe found herself able to move again. She eyed Chris warily, trying to gauge whether or not she could make it past him and out the door before he cast another spell. Chris merely sighed.

“I can see you don’t believe me. That’s a shame. It’s obvious that he has you so completely under his spell that you can’t even consider the idea that I’m telling you the truth.”

“That’s not true!” Phoebe protested. “He hasn’t brainwashed me...” She closed her mouth, considering. “Okay, well, maybe he HAD once... but...” Seeing the look on his face, she tried again. “Look. We like to role-play Master and slave a bit, now and again, but it’s just play. I’m NOT some mindless puppet that dances when he pulls my strings!”

Smiling knowingly, Chris nodded. “I see. And you TRUST him, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!”

“And you’d know if he’d put you under a spell, wouldn’t you?” he continued doggedly. “If you were under his control right now?”

“I... of course,” Phoebe answered, fighting a growing feeling of doubt. “After that first night, he’s always asked me if I wanted him to dominate me. Hell, usually I have to ask HIM to put me under!”

“Then let’s test your little theory right now and see,” he said, reaching inside his shirt and taking out a small silver medallion on his chain. He held it up in front of her. “There were four of us in that D&D group. Richie played a Rogue. Elizabeth was a Barbarian. John, as you know, became a Sorcerer. And me, I was a Cleric.” Chanting softly, he caused the medallion to glow. He lifting it high, letting the glow shine into her face, dazzling her eyes for a moment. The world seemed to shift underneath her, and a wave of dizziness swept over her.

“Wh... what... what’s happening?” she asked groggily, holding her head. “I feel... confused... what... what did you do... to me?”

“Why, my dear, I cast Break Enchantment on you. I’ve just freed you from whatever spells you were currently under. What you are feeling now is the disorientation that comes from the magic dissipating.” His smile deepened, turning sinister. He continued to hold the glowing medallion up to her eyes. “If you hadn’t been under a spell already, you would have felt nothing at all... but since you seem very dizzy and lightheaded right now, it means that your precious John had you under a spell all this time.”

“Under... a spell?” Phoebe asked, feeling very confused.

“Yes,” Chris affirmed. “John tricked you. He had you under his spell this entire time.”

“Tricked... me? Had me... under... his spell...”

“Yes. He made you THINK you were in love with him... made you TRUST him... and NEVER doubt him...”

“Made me... love him... trust him... not doubt him...”

“Absolutely. He was USING you, Phoebe. He made you his plaything... his puppet. His sextoy. He tampered with your mind and made you believe that you WANTED this... wanted to be his willing sex slave!” He smiled, and the glow of the medallion began to pulse. “Ah, but I have freed you, Phoebe. I have broken his spell over you. You are free now.”

The girl’s eyes widened, locking on to the pulsing light. “You... have broken his spell. I am... free now.”

“John no longer controls you, Phoebe. Say it.”

“John... no longer... c... controls me...”

“You are not his puppet anymore.”

“I am... not his puppet anymore.”

“You are free of his tyranny!”

“I am free of his tyranny.”

“You no longer believe his lies!”

“I no longer believe his lies.”

“He tried to trick you and make you THINK he loved you. But now, you know the truth.”

“I know the truth.”

“He doesn’t love you.”

“He doesn’t love me.”

“And you, do not love him,”

“I... I do not... not...”

Chris growled inwardly. Fuck. She actually DOES love that fucker. She’s trying to resist. I’m going to have to use the Symbol of Persuasion I prepared as well. Without missing a beat, he reached across the table, opening the thick leather-bound book he’d brought with him. A glowing rune painstakingly etched within its pages began to glow softly, pulsing in time with the glow of the medallion, and what little resistance Phoebe had managed to muster vanished completely.

“You do not love him, Phoebe. Say it! Say it NOW!”

“I do not love him.”

“You hate him!”

“I hate him.”

“You hate the way he’s taken advantage of you. You hate what he has done to you, the way he’s used you. You hate him, Phoebe.”

“I hate him,” she said again, animation returning to her voice.

“You hate him with a passion for the way he’s treated you. You HATE him!”

“I hate him!” Phoebe echoed, growling softly, her hands clenching tightly into fists. In her mind, everything they had done together was being twisted, reshaped by Chris’ words, and colored by her hatred. He’d lied to her, used her, RAPED her against her will! How dare he? HOW DARE HE!

“Yes, yes, Phoebe. Now let all of that hatred fill you, consume you. Let it guide you to what it is you truly seek: revenge!”

“Revenge!” Phoebe agreed, her glassy eyes sparkling with an inner fire. Yes, she would indeed get her revenge. And as she continued to stare unblinking at the lights dancing in front of her eyes, listening as words seemed directly into her mind, she learned the manner in which she would finally achieved her vengeance...

Steve glanced up as Phil wandered by. “Hey, man. what’s up?”

Phil turned. “Hey, Steve... can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure, dude. What is it?”

Phil glanced around. “Um, it’s a REALLY personal question, dude.”

“Um, yeah. So, what’s the question?”

“Dude, how big is your cock?”

Steve blinked, then blinked again. “Phil, get the fuck out of here!”

“No, Steve, I’m like totally serious here,” Phil said quickly, “I was talking with Pheebs a while ago, yanno, asking her about why she’s all... well, yanno, with my roommate. It’s like she’s turned into a completely different girl that the one we used to know! I mean, I got nothing against the dude. He’s a bit... well... out of touch with this decade, but he’s not a bad guy. I like him! But I just don’t get how a girl like THAT—”

“You mean, someone with a fuckin’ hot bod that you’ve got the hots for?” Steve prompted.

“—could fall so head over heels for an old geezer like him!” Phil finished, exasperated. “I mean, damn! He’s old enough to be her father!”

“Well, actually, older brother, maybe. He’s not THAT old yet. Anyway, what does that have to do with you asking me about my dick size?”

“Dude, will you just SHUT UP and let me finish?” Phil shouted. “So... I was talking to Pheebs a while ago, and I basically asked ‘what’s he got that I don’t?’ and she licks her lips, narrows her eyes, and says, ‘a ten inch cock’, and just walks away.”

Steve blinked. “Oh. Wow. Just... wow.”

“So, dude... for real. How big is your cock?”

“DUDE!”

“C’mon, man,” Phil insisted, “it’s not like I’m asking you to whip it out and let me see it, or something gay! I just wanna know... if I’m average size. Yanno?”

Steve shook his head. “First of all, dude, yeah, that is kinda gay. Wanting to know another guy’s dick size, no matter what the reason is, is very very gay. Second, I have no idea. I’ve never measure my own cock.”

“Dude. You’ve never measured it? Just out of curiosity?” Phil asked.

“Dammit Phil!” Steve yelled, feeling completely exasperated, “will you just get the fuck outta here with these gay-assed questions?!?”

“Well, well, did I interrupt something interesting?”

Both boys turned to find Phoebe standing behind them, wearing an amused expression on her face. Steve, blushing red as a tomato, laughed nervously. “Hey, Pheebs. We were just, um, um... talking about... Biology! Yeah, Biology class. Right, Phil?” he said, glaring at his friend.

“Hey, Pheebs,” Phil began, oblivious to the daggers Steve was shooting him, “about what you said before you left campus earlier—OWW! Goddammit, Steve, that was my fucking ankle!”

Phoebe merely giggled. “That’s what I love about you, Phil... your attention to details. Anyway, I was wondering if you’d do me a little favor. I have a little something... special planned with John later tonight. I know its kinda short notice, and you have exams to study for, but would you mind sleeping somewhere else tonight?”

“Somewhere... like where?” he asked. “It’s not like Karen’s even speaking to me these days, so I won’t be able to crash with her. And Steve—”

“Absolutely not,” he cut in, shaking his head. “I already have plans tonight, and much as I like you, dude, three is definitely a crowd.”

“You can stay here,” Phoebe answered calmly, tossing Phil a small plastic card. “Room 131 at the Marriot. I rented a room there for the night, but John’s plans changed, so I plan to meet him in his room tonight and surprise him.”

“The Marriot?” Phil replied, grinning. “Sweet! You’ve got a deal, Pheebs! I guess I’ll just have to let you and my roomy party in that small, sweltering, cramped little room while I suffer in a luxurious, clean, air conditioned room with satellite TV.” Whooping loudly, he took off for the parking lot.

Phoebe and Steve stood there for a moment, shaking their heads. Then:

“So, Pheebs... got something ‘special’ planned, huh?”

She nodded softly. “Yeah. You could say that.”

“Cool.” He glanced down at his books for a moment, before adding, “Yanno, Phil and I were talking about you guys... about how tight you two seem to be. We both know how Phil is... but I have to admit, even for myself, I was kinda surprised by the suddenness of it. One day, you hardly glance twice at the guy, and the next... it’s like you’re joined at the hip.” He sighed. “I’m not jealous, per sae... I mean, Anne and I are doing great. I guess I’m kinda jealous at the... the way you two are together.” He chuckled. “I’ve known you for two years, Phoebe, and I’ve known you to be as... giddy, bubbly, whatever, as you are when you’re around John.”

No doubt due to his influence over me, Phoebe thought angrily, without letting her true feelings show. But all that ends tonight.

“I guess I’m just in awe of how good you two seem together. The way you two hooked up... it’s almost magical.”

Phoebe laughed softly, shaking her head. “Magical. Yeah, that’s a perfect word to describe it.” She waved goodbye. “Talk to you later, Steve.”

Steve waved back. He sat there staring at his study material for a few minutes longer. “A ten inch cock, huh?” he muttered softly. “Ah, fuck it.” Taking out his cell, he started dialing Anne’s number. “I might not be wielding a ten-inch penis, but Anne’s seems perfectly happy with the seven and a half I’ve been giving her.”

“We don’t have to do this, Chris!” John said, his back pressed as far against the wall as he could get it. “Just let it drop. We can’t be friends anymore, but it doesn’t mean we have to be enemies!”

“It’s too late for that, Johnny Boy,” Chris sneered. “We all made a pledge. A pact. If you’re not with us, then you’re against us.”

John groaned inwardly. His arm still stung from the glancing blow he’d received from Liz; he was pretty sure it was broken. All things considered, he was lucky she hadn’t connected somewhere more vital. She continued to glare at him, seething, looking ready to charge at him like a mad dog if Chris did so much as nod in his direction. He hated that it had come down to this, that a simple misunderstanding had deteriorated into all out war between the four of them.

This far, he’d resisted the urge to use his powers against other people, especially the others in the group. He’d seen firsthand the effect of using their powers too much, the way it had began to corrupt them all, slowly but surely. Weeks after they’d performed the ritual, he’d done some research at the town library. The ritual had invoked the power of Ashtoreth, who was, apparently, a major level demon of Hell, a prince among the other devils down there. Knowing the patron ‘saint’ responsible for their gifts, he’d refrained from using his powers, only resorting to them when necessary. He’d tried to warn the others as well, but his pleas had fallen on deaf ears; they’d fully embraced their powers and were unwilling, possible unable, to give them up.

A flash of metal alerted him to Richie’s presence an instance before the strike came. Rolling away at the last second, he again took only a glancing blow from his sneak attack, which slashed through clothing and flesh, but didn’t hit any major or vital organs. The pain registered a moment later, and with it John’s anger, which he’d tried to hold in check, overwhelmed him. Seeing red, he turned back on his attacker, and, quickly chanting a spell, let loose with a Magic Missile barrage. He felt a sense of grim satisfaction as the quick footed thief was unable to dodge, taking several hits to his chest and arms, enough to force him to make a hasty retreat.

“You son of a bitch!” Chris roared, angrily. “Turning your powers on us like that! Fine! Let’s see how you like it!”

The dark cleric began an incantation of his own, one which John recognized. Shielding his eyes, he dropped low to the ground just as Chris’ Searing Light spell fired. The mystical laser beam missed, blackening the wall behind him. Rolling back to his feet, John found himself facing an enraged Elizabeth, charging straight at him. Eyes wide, he responded reflexively, the syllables tumbling off his tongue almost with a mind of their own. The charge stopped, Liz’s fist less than an inch from his face. Eyes wide and glassy, she stood there, swaying slightly, her mind and will completely overridden by his hastily cast Dominate Person spell.

Elated, adrenaline running high, he mentally directed his newly acquired servant to defend him, stepping in to swat away Richie, who’d attempted to sneak up from behind for a second attempt to backstab him. The lithe, skinny boy, not expecting the attack, crumpled to the ground, K.O.ed with a single punch. Chris, realizing what had happened, bellowed his rage, casting Flame Strike intent of demolishing his nemesis once and for all.

“Oh no you don’t!” John replied furiously, chanting a Greater Dispel Magic spell to counter his. Spell energies collided, causing a visible display of energy, arcing in midair like lightning bolts. They were evenly matched, but John had an ace in the hole. With a thought, he sent Liz at Chris, tackling him hard, slamming him into a wall. Dazed, stunned, the wind knocked out of him, Chris managed to sit up just in time to see John smiling down at him with an evil look on his face.

“That was a flame strike, wasn’t it? Trying to burn me, huh?” He laughed. “A CLERIC trying to use offensive magic. Pitiful. Here... let me show you how it’s done...”

A knock at the door startled John, awakening him from his nightmare. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced at the clock. 2 A.M. Wearily, he shook his head, trying to push away the dark memories of that time once more. He blinked; there was a sheet of paper stuck to his cheek from when he’d drifted off to sleep in the middle of studying. The knock sounded again, and yawning, he walked to the door.

“Just a sec, Phil,” he said, yawning again, as he unlocked the door. “I really wish you’d remember where you left your keys. Still. I’m glad you woke me up. I have a lot more research to do—”

Phoebe stepped inside, wearing a pink bathrobe and fuzzy pink slippers. “Well, Master of mine, perhaps I can persuade you to put the books aside for a few hours.” She leaned forward, kissing him lightly on the lips. “I missed you today.”

John kissed her lightly but pulled away. “Sorry, Phoebe. I’m really busy right now. I’m expecting... well, he’s not exactly an old friend, per sae, but...” He gestured to the stack of books on his bed. “As you can see, I’m pretty much up to my ears in research right now.”

Phoebe’s smile widened, and she opened her bathrobe, revealing her naked flesh underneath. “Well, that really isn’t my problem now, is it?” she purred, moving back close to him again. “You used your ‘evil mind control magic’ on me, remember? Turned me into your seductive little sex kitten. You made me desire you more than food or water, or even the air we breathe.” She pressed him back down onto the bed, knocking aside several books in the process. “I’m a slut, lover. This is the role you created for me. So why fight it?”

“Why indeed?” John murmured, giving in to the warm supple flesh pressing against him. “Alright then. Let’s make ourselves more comfortable then. Let me slide this robe off of you, then I’ll take off my—AAAAHHHHHHHH!!”

John’s body went stiff, his muscles seizing up as sparkles danced before his eyes. His entire body tingled, as if he’d just been zapped with a taser, and it took most of his effort to continue to breathe, let along move. Even his thoughts seemed to be moving in slow motion, as if his brain had been immersed in a tank of thick syrup.

Moments later, Phoebe’s smirking face came into view, peering down at him. “Oh? Did that hurt, John dear?” she said with a noticeable edge to her voice. “Good. I’m glad. I must say that I felt a sense of satisfaction seeing you get what you so richly deserve for a change!”

“Fffff...” he tried, his tongue as numb as the rest of me, “fffbbbbbyyyy...” How? How could you do this to me? How... could you betray me like this?

“Save your strength, sorcerer,” she spat angrily, turning her back to him. “Do you see this?” she asked, pointing at a softly glowing design someone had painstakingly drawn on her back. “I assume a know-it-all like yourself already knows what it is, but I’ll point out the obvious anyway. It’s a Symbol of Stunning. And I’m glad to see it lives up to its hype.”

Shit, John thought desperately, trying in vain to get up. It’s HIM. He moved faster than I expected...

“See, I ran into an old friend of yours earlier this afternoon,” Phoebe continued, sliding her robe back on. “As it turns out, he’s been keeping tabs on you for quite a while. It seems I’m not the only one you’ve been using your magic on. He used his own magic to break the enchantment you’d put over me to make you fall so desperately in love with you—”

And no doubt put you under one of his own in the process, John realized. Fuck! He used her... to get to me. And... even if I think of a way out of this... how can I fight her? She’s just a pawn in all of this...

“—and opened my eyes to the truth,” Phoebe finished, angrily. “You’re nothing but a fucking manipulative bastard! All this time... I thought you LOVED me, that you actually felt something for me... that our so-called ‘relationship’ actually meant something to you! But now I realize I was exactly what you claimed I was all this time: a sex toy. Well, John, this girl is tired of being played with!”

Taking out a cell phone from the pocket of her robe, she dialed a number. “Yes. It’s me. Uh huh. I got him. It worked like a charm, just like you said it would. Yes, he’s completely helpless.” She stared down at him with vengeance in her eyes. “I could slit his throat... or smother him just by putting my hand over his mouth and nose.” Her smile faded. “Yes, but... I know that, but... sigh yes, Sir. I’ll let you have the honors. I suppose you’ve waited for this longer than I have. Okay. See you soon.” Hanging up the phone, she smiled nastily at him.

“Well, you got off lucky for now. Personally, I’d like to kick your sorry ass here and now, but Christopher said to wait until he arrives for pickup.” Sitting down on the bed close to him, she picked up a pillow, fluffing it in her hands. “But... he didn’t say I couldn’t have a bit of fun until he arrived. Do you remember when we talked about ‘asphyxiation play’ a few weeks ago? You said it sounded interesting, but you didn’t want to take the chance on trying something that dangerous with me. Well, lover, since we’re basically over and down with, I figure this is my best chance to give it a try.” And with that, she pressed the pillow tightly against John’s face...

Icy cold water splashing over his body woke John with a start. He cried out, thrashing wildly, only afterwards noticing that he had control of his limbs once more. Looking around, he saw the familiar face of Phoebe, now fully clothed, glaring at him, an empty bucket still clutched in her hands. He also noticed that he was no longer in his dorm room on campus; instead he was lying on the ground of what appeared to be an abandoned storage warehouse. A thick steel chain was wrapped around his waist, the ends attached to a large pulley hanging from the ceiling. His hands were cuffed behind his back, but his legs were unrestrained.

“Sorry about the rude awakening, old friend,” Chris said, as he slowly wheeled himself into view. “You seem to be looking well, all things considered. The years seem to have been pretty good to you.”

“Thanks,” John said, shaking the wet hair from his face. “And you look... um... hmm. Well, I’ve seen you look better, Chris. The beard’s nice, though, covers up a lot of the scar.”

Chris bristled at the remark, but then laughed softly. “Same old Johnny Boy. I’ve really missed that smart mouth of yours.” He ran a hand along the left side of his face. “Yanno, I’ve been thinking a lot about the past lately. In fact, every time I see the scar, every time I think about my ruined legs, I think of you, and that night.”

John merely nodded, trying in vain to maneuver his chained up hands to complete the spell he was attempting. At the last moment, however, he felt the gathered energy falter, then fade. Chris turned to face him, chuckling softly. “Having problems, old friend?” he taunted. “Did you think me so stupid that I would get so close to you and NOT take precautions?” He gestured to the side of his face again. “I know exactly what you’re capable of, Johnny. I put up an Antimagic Field before you woke up!”

Shit, John grumbled silently. Looks like he did HIS homework at least. I’m in trouble here. I’m going to have to play this very carefully if I’m going to have any chance of making it out of here alive. Aloud, he said, “Okay. You got me. I was about to try and blast you into next Tuesday. It’s true. I didn’t think you smart enough to actually PLAN out in advance. Usually, you left the planning up to me or Richie.”

Chris sneered. “You two always did have a highly inflated opinion of yourselves. You always thought you were so much smarter than Liz and I! Well, smart guy, this time YOU’RE the one about to get beat down!” He gestured, and Phoebe stepped forward, now holding a heavy iron pipe in her hands. “You see, Johnny? It’s not just revenge, its karma. You took control of MY girlfriend’s mind and used her to cripple me. I think it’s only fitting that I use YOUR girlfriend to do the same to you.”

“EX-girlfriend,” Phoebe corrected, lightly tapping the pipe against the palm of her open hand. “I’m going to make you sorry you ever toyed around with our lives.”

John sighed. “Phoebe. I’m not going to even try and pretend that I didn’t mess with your head. We both know it happened. And I can’t deny I didn’t enjoy the power I had over you. But... I swear to you, I didn’t take advantage of you. I didn’t make you feel the way you felt, Pheebs. I may have... tweaked your mind a bit now and then, but I didn’t alter your feelings.” He looked her square in the eye. “I meant every single word.”

Phoebe stopped advancing, frowning slightly. The pipe trembled slightly in her hands. “Pretty words, John. Too bad they don’t mean much coming from a liar like you!”

“I’m not lying,” John said quietly. “I’m no saint. I’ll be the first to admit I’ve done my share of bad stuff in the past. And I apologize if anything I’ve ever said or done has caused you pain. But I’ve never lied to you, Phoebe. Not once. I don’t care if you beat me to death for all the shit I’ve pulled on you these past few months... if you remember that, I can die happy.”

“’If you remember that, I can die happy,’” Chris mocked. “You fucking idiot. What are you trying to do? Talk her down? Forget it!” He turned to his companion. “Phoebe, don’t be taken in by his lies. He’s trying to trick you, trying to weaken your resolve. We’ve got him, and he knows it. He’s desperate, trying to save himself, trying to confuse you so you won’t deliver him the punishment he deserves! Do it, Phoebe! Break his legs! Shatter his kneecaps. Get your revenge on the monster that has been using you all this time!”

“Yes,” Phoebe said, scowling. “You monster. Playing with my affections. Using me like your fucking sex slave!” She raised the pipe, her hands trembling even more. “I’m not listening to your lies anymore, John!” Her vision blurred slightly as tears began to flow. “I fucking hate you for what you did. I hate you! I HATE YOU!” Her hands shook so wildly she could barely maintain her grip on the pipe.

John merely closed his eyes. “I love you, Phoebe,” he said softly, bracing himself for the blow. It never came. A moment later a loud clang sounded beside him, and John opened his eyes, to see Phoebe, on her knees before him, sobbing loudly. “Oh God,” she said softly, shaking her head back and forth. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Chris gawked in disbelief. “What the fuck just happened?!?” he yelled, rolling his wheelchair towards the pair of them. “How in the hell did she break out of my spell? That can’t happen. That’s impossible!”

“No, it’s not only possible, it’s very likely,” John said. Leaning forward to kiss Phoebe softly on the cheek, he pushed himself back up into standing position. “That ritual we performed didn’t make us gods, Chris. We’re not all-powerful—far from it! The spells you used, you tried to convince Phoebe that I was her enemy, that I had lied to her, tricked her, manipulated her. You made her hate me. I’ll admit it, you did a good job. But you pushed the limits of that control when you tried to make her hurt me. I know Phoebe. She’s a kind soul. Yeah, she occasionally gets pissed, and has a tongue that can peel paint off the walls when her temper’s raised. But she’d never willingly hurt another person. When you tried to make her attack me, you went against her will. You forced her to make a will save, which allowed her to shatter your control.”

Growling, Chris spun his wheelchair towards her. “Useless fucking bitch! I should have known better than to depend on a fucking slut like you to handle this!” Just before he reached her, John kicked out, catching the left wheel on its side. The wheelchair tipped over, and Chris fell, sliding several feet across the floor.

“Phoebe!” John yelled. “Get out of here. Quick, before he recovers.”

Sniffing, she rose to her feet, moving behind him. “Let me see if I can get you out of these chains. Dammit, where did I put that key? I know I had it a moment ago—”

“PHOEBE!” John yelled, causing her to jump back. “Pheebs,” he said in a softer voice, “I need you to get out of here. Now.”

Eyes threatening to tear up again, she shook her head. “I can’t leave you here with this psycho! I just need—”

“No. You NEED to go, Pheebs. I can handle this on my own. I can handle anything Chris throws my way. What I CAN’T handle is anything happening to you if you get caught up in the crossfire.” When she still shook her head, he growled. “Phoebe. I haven’t use my magic to control your actions against your will since that first night. Don’t make me do it now. Go!”

“Oh... no.. you don’t... bitch!” Chris growled, pointing a glowing hand towards them. “You’re not leaving now before the party even gets started.” Phoebe let out a loud scream as the walls, floor and ceiling surrounding her began to move, melting like candle wax, and reshaping to form a perfect cube around her. Her screams were cut off as the top closed around her, leaving her completely encased in stone.

“PHOEBE!” John yelled, struggling against the chains binding him. Anger built up within him, growing by the second, and he turned to face Chris, who had just managed to climb back up into his wheelchair. “Christopher. If you’ve hurt her—”

“Then you’d know exactly how I feel about what happened to Elizabeth,” Chris countered. “But relax, John. That would be too easy, wouldn’t it? She’s not hurt. I’m holding her hostage, locked behind my Wall of Stone until we settle our business. And you’d better make it quick. I would say she’s probably got ten minutes of air in there, tops.”

John’s hands clenched into fists. I swore I’d never use my magic to hurt anyone again after that night... but you’re not giving me a choice, are you Chris? Fine. So be it. This ends tonight. Even if it costs me my soul, I’m not letting you hurt Phoebe! With a gesture, he caused the chains surrounding him to fall to the ground. He held out the handcuffs that, only moments ago, had held his wrists tightly behind his back, dropping them to the ground at his feet.

“Freedom of Movement spell,” Chris acknowledged, smirking. “You don’t disappoint. I was hoping you’d slip out of those chains somehow. Now I won’t feel quite so bad when I destroy you.”

“You can’t beat me, Chris,” John said softly, gathering his power. “We both know it. And this time, you don’t even have Richie and Liz to back you up.”

“Shut up!” Chris yelled, speed casting. A tower of flame erupted from around John, who swiftly rolled away, yelping in pain as the heat scorched his clothes. “Don’t you EVER say her name again! Do you hear me?”

“Yeah, I hear you, old friend,” John muttered, his vision coloring red in his anger. “I’d have thought you learned your lesson about playing with fire the last time we tangled. I guess I’m going to have to show you how it’s done once more.” Steepling his fingers together, he pointed them at Chris and shouted a three syllable word. A small red dot flew straight towards Chris, who slid out of his wheelchair, covering his head with his arms. Seconds later, he sat up, laughing.

“Looks like you’re the one who needs to be taught how to cast spells, Johnny boy!” Chris chuckled. “Your big spell just fizzled out! Now it’s my turn again.” Gesturing wildly, he brought into being a large number of sharp, jagged, magical blades, forming a wall between them. “And now that my Blade Barrier has you pinned down, I’ll finish you off with some big, big fire!” As he began focusing his energy to cast Fire Storm a sudden explosion from behind caught him off guard. He was thrown several feet by a blast of fire, and had to spend several seconds rolling on the ground, putting his smoldering clothes out.

“It’s called a Delayed Blast Fireball for a reason, asshole,” John said, walking over to stand over Chris. “If this was a chess match, I’d say you were in check.”

“Maybe so,” Chris grunted, trying to get up again, “but you’re about to lose your Queen... and your life!” Slapping a hand down hard on the concrete he activated his final trap, one that he’d set up in case things didn’t go as he’s expected. A giant symbol etched on the floor began to glow with a pale silvery light. “Game over, Johnny. You lose.”

John continued to stare down at the designs underneath his feet. “Hmm. Symbol of Death spell, eh? Nice touch. I hate to admit it, but I’m impressed.”

Chris blinked. “Whhh... why isn’t it working? You should be dead!”

“And I would be, if that were me, standing over it.”

Chris turned around just as John fired a blast of light into his face. The sorcerer stood several feet away, grinning wickedly at his foe. “Sorry, I guess I Mislead you to think that was the real me. Not that you should be surprise, it was always one of my favorite spells.” He held his palm out and fired again, just as Chris started to sit up, causing the crippled man to scream in pain once more. ”Scorching Ray Chris. One spell, three blasts. And since you’re looking a bit toasty already, one more is about all it will take.” His grin widened. “And that would be Checkmate.”

“Go ahead,” Chris panted, wheezing, his tortured and battered body twitching in pain. “Finish it. Finish me! Go ahead and kill me, like you killed Elizabeth! It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll die having the satisfaction of knowing you’ll feel the same pain of loss that I have all these years.”

Phoebe. Oh my God! Pheebs! John realized. I got so caught up... so blinded in not only beating him but humiliating him, that I’m about to lose the woman I love!

Lowering his hands, dispelling the last ray, he ran over to the edge of the wall that held Phoebe captive. “Phoebe! Hang on! I’m coming. I’ll get you out!” He began casting a spell to slip inside the wall, not sure of how much space was inside, or even how much air Phoebe had left.

Chris laughed ruefully. “You should have finished me off... when you had the chance!” Gesturing once more, he sent a small black dot streaking towards his enemy. “Let’s see you resist my Implosion spell!” An instant before the spell locked on, however, John disappeared. The spell, lacking a specific target, hovered in midair, sending out its destructive resonances throughout the building. Chris, the only living being left in the area, watched in horror as the disruptive energy waves rebounded, coming back towards him.

His scream echoed through the building long after his body had disappeared.

Epilogue:

Phoebe blinked, rubbing her eyes. She coughed, gasping for air, panic surging through her as she remembered her situation.

“Shhh. It’s okay,” John murmured softly, wrapping his arms around her, rocking her gently against himself. “It’s all okay. You’re safe now. We’re back in your dorm room.”

Phoebe sighed deeply, relaxing, letting her body meld into his. “What happened? How did you get me out? Chris! Is he—”

John shook his head. “He won’t be a problem anymore. When I Dimension Doored back in to check on him, there was nothing left but his clothes and a lot of dust. As for how I got you out... I almost didn’t.” He sighed softly, pulling away. “I nearly lost myself again... like I did the last time...”

Phoebe, sensing his mood, turned to face him. “Tell me about it, John. Tell me... about what happened to Elizabeth.”

John closed his eyes, unable to look at her. “You already know what happened, Pheebs. Chris certainly didn’t pull any punches in calling me what I am... a fucking murderer.”

“I don’t believe that. You’re not... that’s not a killer. You could never—”

“I did,” John cut her off. “I did it. I killed her. I’m every bit the monster Chris made me out to be, Phoebe.”

Phoebe glared at him, anger etched on her face. “That’s bullshit! Stop saying that! You told me, when I was under his spell, that you’ve never lied to me before. So don’t start lying to me now. You are not a monster!” When John still refused to answer, she sighed deeply. “Alright. So tell me what happened then. Explain to me why you’re so convinced that you’re an evil monster. How did Elizabeth die?”

John sat on the bed for several moments, saying nothing. Then, finally:

“It all started two days before. We were all eighteen, so damned cock sure of our powers, that we were unstoppable. I came up with the idea of us zipping in and robbing the Third National Bank. My uncle worked there as a guard, and he’d given me a tour of the place when I was seven. I knew the setup inside and out.” He shook his head. “The plan was so simple. We’d meet up at midnight. I’d teleport us all in. Chris would disable the security cameras while Rich opened the vault door. Liz, our muscle, would load up as much cash as she could carry, and then we’d all teleport back out before anyone could stop us. It was a perfect plan. And we all know what happens to perfect plans.

“My uncle caught us as we teleported in. Sheer bad luck. He was supposed to be off that night, but the other guard, a lazy slacker who spent most of the night sleeping on duty, had called in sick. We were busted, caught in the act. Worse, he’d seen how we popped in our of thin air. Chris used a Hold Person spell to keep him from setting off the alarm, while Richie and I racked out brains trying to think of a way out of the mess we’d gotten ourselves into. I finally decided to try a Suggestion, to see if I could convince him he’d imagined the whole thing. I had him under’ pretty deep, and was just starting to lay in the groundwork... when Liz walked up behind him and snapped his neck.”

Phoebe gasped. “What? She killed him? Why?”

“It was part of what happened to us. The ritual that gave us our powers and abilities invoked the name of Ashtoreth, Prince of Demons. The more we used our powers, the more we felt his influence. As a barbarian character, Liz was gifted with superior strength and endurance, but at the cost of her sanity. Every time she raged, it was like she lost a little bit more of herself. That night, she simply lost herself to the violent urges that drove her. I know that now. Of course, at the time, all I could think about was the fact that this crazy psycho bitch had just killed my uncle.”

Nodding, Phoebe tried to imagine what he must have felt, what it must have been like to watch one of his best friends murder his uncle, his family, with her bare hands. She closed her eyes. “So... that was when you...”

“No. Liz didn’t die til a few days after. That night, I teleported us all out of there, back to our meeting place, and then we had the mother of all arguments. I was pissed at Liz for what she did. Liz was pissed at me for being pissed at her. Chris was pissed because I was dissing his girlfriend. And Richie? He was pissed at all of us because we didn’t get the money. We yelled, then we shouted, then we screamed at one another. Then finally, Liz lost her temper and she grabbed me by my arm and flung me hard into a wall.”

He sighed, turning around to face her then. “The shouting stopped after that. I was hurt, badly, and they all knew it. My arm was broken. I stared at them all in disbelief. Then I told them that I was leaving the group. For good. I told them I was through with magic, through them, through with all of it. I wanted nothing more to do with any of them ever again. Then I walked out. The next day I got about a million calls from Liz, apologizing, but I just blew her off. My mom was heartsick over her brother’s death, and I was guilt ridden about the part I had played in it. Saying ‘I’m Sorry’ just wasn’t going to cut it. I was seriously starting to lose it. I considered going to the police and turning myself in... serving time, as a way of paying some small bit of penance.” He laughed ruefully. “Thinking back on it now, I almost wish I had. it would have saved us all from what came next.

“The next day, I had just entered the alley on 9th Street to find Chris waiting, leaning up against the wall, acting casual. He tried making small talk, trying to gauge my reaction to his presence, and he must not have liked what he saw, because a few minutes later, Richie and Lizzie grabbed me from behind, pulling me inside the old abandoned 9th Street Woodworking Plant. They tried to ‘convince me’ that I needed to stay with the group, and when that didn’t work, they threatened me. And when THAT didn’t work, they attacked me, claiming that if I wasn’t with them, I was against them. I got pummeled, scorched, battered, bruised, sliced and diced. Finally, fed up of the abuse, I found back. I used spell after spell to hurt my former friends, to make them back off and leave me alone.

“But a strange thing happened. The more I used my attack magic, the more I started to enjoy it. Here I was, fighting for my life, and I was starting to fucking enjoy it! I could have ended it in an instant, could have called up a Fire Storm or used Polar Ray and taken out the whole lot of them.... but that would have ended my fun. I wanted them to suffer. I wanted them to hurt. I wanted to inflict the maximum amount of pain and suffering on them that I could.”

“But that wasn’t you,” Phoebe said softly. Reaching up, she caressed his face. “That was Ashtoreth’s influence making you act that way. It’s not your fault. YOU aren’t like that, John.”

“No, it was me,” he insisted, turning away again. “Yeah, the demon was influencing me, goading me into attacking my friends... but it was still my choice. I knew what was happening, knew where it was trying to push my actions, and I just went along with it.” He sighed deeply, closing his eyes again. “And... so I burned Chris. To be honest, I had half-expected him to just heal the damage—he was the CLERIC of the group, after all—but apparently having his new patron saint be a demon of hell screwed up his spell list a bit. He couldn’t heal anymore, couldn’t undo the damage I caused him... or the damage that Liz inflicted on him, either.”

“Liz?”

“She went berserk again, charging at me, so I... I used Dominate Person. I turned her mind completely off, usurped her will, and used her unbridled strength to wipe the floor with the others. And then, just for spite, I gave her a tire iron, and told her to smash Chris’ legs into a puddle of goo, then teleported out of there. What I didn’t find out until later was that his screams attracted the police. When they saw the carnage going on, they tried to stop Liz, tried to pull her off of Chris...” He paused. “The difference between a spell like Dominate Person and the ones I’ve used on you, like Suggestion or Hypnotism or even my Geas, is that with those, you have some idea of what is happening, even if you are powerless to stop it. You can even fight it, to some degree, resist what you’re being made to do. Not with Dominate. It turns you into a completely mindless automaton, a robot that will relentlessly obey whatever command it was given to be best of its ability. I’d told Liz to smash his legs into goo, so when the officers tried to stop her, she fought back, attacking them for trying to keep her from fulfilling her objective.”

“So, the cops killed her to stop her from killing Chris,” Phoebe finished, understanding at last.

John nodded, eyes still closed. Tears began to flow. “I hadn’t meant for her to die. I hadn’t meant to ruin her or Chris’ life. I was just... I lost control. I let my anger and my pain take over. I let my own inner darkness consume me. So, I swore to myself not to use my so-called ‘gifts’ ever again. And for fifteen years, I managed to resist the urge, to keep it all under wraps... until that day you followed me to the library and to give me a piece of your mind.”

They sat in silence for several minutes, then Phoebe leaned close again, kissing him softly. “I’m glad. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be together now, would we? Look John... I’ve gotten to know you pretty well over the past several months, yanno? You’re a good man. We all have inner demons that we try to keep buried inside. None of us are perfect. And despite what you think, you didn’t kill anyone. You said it yourself—they attacked you. You were just defending yourself. You can’t keep beating yourself up about the past.”

John smiled softly. “That’s what I love about you, Phoebe. You see past the monster to the man buried underneath.” He raised a hand, touching it to her forehead, and she gasped, going slack in his arms. “But I am that monster, Phoebe. Maybe not right now, at this moment, but it’s inevitable. I’ve let the genie out of the bottle; I can’t go back to not using my magic now that I’ve sunk this low. It’s only a matter of time until I do something to hurt you... or worse. That’s why I have to do this.” He kissed her unresponsive lips. “You’ll probably hate me for doing it this way, for wiping away all memory of what we shared these past few months, but it’s for the best. When I leave here, you’ll forget all of the time we’ve shared together, everything that we’ve meant to each other. It will be nothing more than a hazy half-remembered dream. And I’ll do the same with Phil, Steve, and Anne as well. Better if none of you remembered me at all.”

Leaning forward, he kissed her one last time, wiping the tears that began to flow from her wide glassy eyes. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered as he rose to his feet. With one last backward glance, he closed the door behind him.