The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chance Encounter

I met the witch by chance. I don’t use that word casually. I met her by chance.

For me, it all began in the produce section of my local grocery store. My grocery store had two styles of carts. One resembles the carts everyone knows. The other was small and basically held two baskets, one above the other. As I was shopping for one, that was what I typically used. And so, I was pushing one of the smaller carts.

I didn’t have a formal list. Working from a list wasn’t exactly my style. Instead, I picked out what looked good.

And that is what brought me to the produce section, the first stop through the store. I looked around. “The oranges look good,” I said. Yes, out loud, actually. I do that, a lot, really. It’s like I don’t really have an internal voice. I write dialogue that way, too, working it out aloud.

Oh, I’m a writer. If I come across as a flake, that’s okay. It’s how I’d describe myself.

Anyway. Where was I? Oh. Eying the oranges. I aimed my cart for the display then looked over the individual choices. “You look good, Sweetie,” I said, reaching for one of the oranges. My fingers closed, but they didn’t close over an orange.

They closed over someone’s hand. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who thought that particular orange looked the best out of all the oranges here.

I froze, surprised. I hadn’t even noticed her standing beside me. I froze, my hand closed over the top of this other woman’s hand as she clasped the orange. And then, finally realizing what I was doing, I snatched my hand back to my side.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t see you.”

“So that Sweetie wasn’t for me?” she asked with a laugh. I turned to face her. We eyed each other. She was tall. I was short. She was impeccably dressed. I looked like a writer, and I’d be willing to bet my hair was unkempt besides. Without looking away from me, she put the orange—my orange!—in her cart. I dropped my eyes to it. She smiled, withdrew the orange from her cart, and held it out towards me.

“That’s all right,” I said.

“You wanted this one,” she said. “To the point of offering it a term of endearment.”

I eyed the orange. I really wanted that one.

“You’re cute,” she observed.

“I feel like an idiot,” I replied.

“Are you?”

At that, I looked back up at her. She was smiling, I thought with deep amusement. She had the most amazing eyes. I’ll get to them very shortly. “Am I what?”

“You said you feel like an idiot. Are you?”

“Not usually,” I said. “A flake. Flighty. I’m an author.” As if that would explain everything.

“Ah,” she said. And perhaps, yes, it did explain everything. “Are you a good author?”

“I let my readers decide that.”

“Your readers? Not your fans?”

“If they want to consider themselves my fans, I’m not going to argue with them. But it isn’t my place to offer labels.”

“I’ve never thought about that,” she said. “You want this orange, don’t you?” She waved it at me, and I dropped my gaze to it again.

“You’re teasing me.”

“A little. Do you mind?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “I feel like an idiot. There’s an entire display.”

“And yet, this is the one you want.”

“You got to it first,” I said.

“You may have it.”

I looked back up. There was something in her tone, and I knew there was a catch. Was she hitting on me? If she was, did I have time for that? I wasn’t sure.

“If,” she added.

Ah, there it was. “If.”

“If you answer three questions.”

“Am I agreeing to answer before you ask the questions?”

“No, but if you don’t honestly answer all three, I’ll be taking Sweetie home with me. I will then cut her up and feed her to my garbage disposal.”

“What?” I screeched. “Not Sweetie!” I lifted my eyes and smiled. Now we were both teasing each other.

“Sometimes I use lemons. It makes the disposal smell fresh.” I didn’t know what to say to that. “Question one: what do you write?”

“Books.” Okay, I was being a smart ass. She frowned, withdrew her hand, and set the orange in the basket. “Lesbian fiction,” I promptly clarified. “Usually romance.” I didn’t usually advertise to complete strangers. There are a lot of jerks in the world.

She smiled again and picked the orange back up, holding it out towards me, held almost exactly halfway between us.

“I can’t believe we’re negotiating over an orange.”

“This isn’t about the orange,” she said. “Question two. Is there someone special in your life? Maybe a child waiting at home, or a fish, desperate for a meal?”

“No girlfriends, and I don’t even try to keep house plants. Author. Flighty.”

“Ah,” she said. “Creative people can be like that, but what would the world be like without people like you.” She inclined her head. “Thank you.”

I smiled at that. “What’s the third question?” I was pretty sure she was about to ask me out. Instead, she asked, “Are my eyes pretty?”

I couldn’t help it. When she asked about her eyes, I lifted mine towards hers. Once I had, she added, “Look closely and describe them to me as part of your answer.”

I did as she said, moving close and looking up, staring really, and then closer still. I can’t imagine what anyone who saw us might think, but I stopped with my face no further than a single foot from hers, and I stared into her eyes.

“They’re beautiful,” I whispered.

“What color are they?” she asked.

“Green,” I answered. “With gold specs.” My eyes widened. “The specs are moving.”

“Watch the specs,” she directed. “They’re very pretty.”

“Beautiful,” I whispered.

“Continue to stare into my eyes,” she directed. “You may blink as necessary, but you will otherwise stare into my beautiful eyes.”

And so, that was what I did, and it didn’t even occur to me to look away.

“Continue to look into my eyes,” she said. “Remain calm. I am not going to hurt you. You are entirely safe with me. I am playful, but I never, ever hurt someone. We’re going to go somewhere, and then I’m going to ask you more questions.”

“Okay,” I whispered, believing everything she said. “I should be afraid.” You do remember how I said that I tend to speak out loud if I’m not speaking through my fingers.

“You are perfectly safe,” she said. “I won’t hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me. I can’t look away.”

“No, My Lovely, you cannot,” she said. “Not until I release you.”

“Why?”

“We’ll discuss that, I suppose. You’re going to do exactly what I say.”

“Exactly.”

“When I say, you will close your eyes, but you will continue to see the swirling lights of my eyes. That is all you will see. You will keep your eyes closed until I next tell you to open them, and you will see my eyes, holding your mind like this. Do you understand?”

“Yes. No.”

“I think you understand what you will do,” she said. “You will close your eyes, and you will let me lead you somewhere. You will know you are safe. I won’t hurt you. Close your eyes now, but continue to see my eyes.”

I closed, and she was right. In my mind, I still saw her mesmerizing eyes, green with specs that swirled in patterns I couldn’t begin to describe.

“Give me your hand,” she ordered. I lifted a hand and then felt cool fingers clasping me.

She gently led me from the store.

Being Prepared

She put me in the front seat of a car and buckled me in. Then she used two fingers on my chin, turning my head. “Open your eyes and look into mine.”

I was helpless but to obey. She snared me with her eyes, and I smiled. “Are you some sort of vampire?”

“No,” she said. “You are safe. I will not hurt you.”

“I am safe,” I echoed. “You will not hurt me.”

“That’s right,” she confirmed. “We’re going to go for a drive. You will sit quietly with your hands in your lap. When you close your eyes, you will continue to see mine. Put your hands in your lap and close your eyes.”

I did what she said, turning my head to face forward. She closed the car door and a moment later climbed into the other side.

I was remarkably calm. She had just kidnapped me, and I had cooperated the entire time. I was sure I would continue to cooperate, whatever she had planned.

I wanted to ask what she was going to do to me, but when I opened my mouth, no words came out. She had, after all, told me to sit quietly. That was frustrating. My thoughts were my own, and I was driven to release them.

But I couldn’t.

I made not one peep.

It was an easy drive. I thought perhaps she drove carefully. It probably wouldn’t do to be in an auto accident while I sat beside her like this. But it felt like an easy drive of perhaps fifteen minutes. I sat quietly, my hands in my lap the entire time. We slowed, and then slowed far more. A turn, and then the distinctive bump at the bottom of a driveway. We drove forward, and then the noise changed. We were in a garage. I heard an opener.

“Stay there,” she said. Her door opened and closed. Then mine opened. She unlatched my belt. “You may speak now.”

“I’m scared.”

“Open your eyes and look into mine,” she ordered.

Immediately I turned to her. We were nearly at the same level this time, and I stared into her eyes.

I whimpered.

“No, no,” she said. Her fingers came up to caress my cheek. “I promise. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re going to have a very nice day. I promise.”

“What are you doing to me?”

“I’m a witch,” she said simply. “Well, a type of witch, I suppose. I imagine there are other types.”

“Why are you doing this?”

She caressed my cheek again. “I’ll explain more shortly. Look deep into my eyes and believe my words. I will not hurt you. You are safe in my home.”

I believed her, but I could think of a lot of things she wasn’t saying. She said she wouldn’t hurt me. She wasn’t promising no one else would. She said I was safe in her home. She didn’t say she wouldn’t send me somewhere I wasn’t safe.

Her fingers still on my cheek, she frowned. “That should have calmed you down.”

“I have an active imagination, and I’ve written stories where magical beings get around promises like that.”

“Oh,” she said. “No, no. Nothing bad is going to happen to you, Sweetie.” I was sure she used that word intentionally.

“Are you going to cut me up and put me in your disposal?”

It was meant as a joke, and she took it that way. She caressed my cheek then moved her fingers to my forehead, smoothing away the furrows. “You are perfectly safe. I am playful, but no one has ever been hurt from my magic, and no one ever will be. Give me your hands and climb from the car.”

I did what I was told. Then, while I helplessly stared into her eyes the entire time, she led me into her house, walking backwards to lead me. She led me into the house then backed me into a sofa. I sat, and she climbed onto my lap. I craned my head to continue to stare into her eyes.

A portion of me realized what was happening was rather sexy, if it wasn’t just so… Something.

“You will answer my questions,” she said. “What is your name?”

“Soledad,” I answered.

“You don’t look Hispanic,” she replied.

“I’m not. My mother just liked the name. She didn’t know the translation when she picked it.”

“Loneliness. Are you a lonely woman, Soledad?”

“Writing is a solo craft,” I said. “I tend to live in my head a lot.”

“So yes but no?”

“I suppose,” I said.

“Is that the name you use when you publish?”

“No.”

“What is your penname?”

“Summer Winter.”

She laughed. “Really? You have a sense of humor.”

“It’s supposed to be evocative,” I said. “Summer heat while at the same time thinking of curling up in front of a warm fire in the winter.”

“It works,” she said. “Do your fans know your real name?”

“I don’t engage in elaborate means to hide it,” I said. “If I check in for a conference, my hotel reservations are under my legal name. I don’t know if that means it’s gotten out, but if it has, I don’t know. Please tell me what you’re going to make me do.”

“In a minute, Soledad,” she said. “Do you carry any STDs?”

I was helpless but to answer. “No. You have no right to ask me questions like that.”

“I have no right to do anything I’m doing to you, Soledad. If you’re angry when we’re done, I’ll offer restitution.”

“You’ll make me not ask.”

“Actually, no. I’m not going to explain at this time. How do you know you don’t have any STDs?”

“Because my last encounter was quite some time ago. We both were tested before, and after we broke up, I tested again. You have no right to ask me that!”

“Quiet,” she ordered, and I shut my mouth. She frowned. “I don’t like being harsh. You may protest, but you will do so without a harsh tone.”

That felt like permission to speak again. “You have no right to do this to me.”

“I agree,” she said. “But I haven’t hurt you, and I am not going to. Do you have any appointments in the next three days?”

I tried not to answer. I clamped my mouth shut. She frowned again. “I can make you answer, Soledad.”

“You’re trying to figure out how soon someone will look for my body.”

“No, Sweetie. I am trying to ensure I am not interrupting your life unreasonably. You shouldn’t be this frightened, Soledad. I’ve told you you’re not going to be hurt.”

“I can think of a dozen things you could do to me that wouldn’t qualify as hurting me that I still don’t want you to do, and that’s without even trying.”

“By morning, if you wish to be, you will be home in your own bed, safe and sound.”

I could think of ways around that, too.

“Sweetie,” she said. “I am not playing any sort of word games with you. Please do not be frightened.” Then she actually leaned forward and kissed my forehead, breaking my entrapment. She kissed my forehead, and then she lowered her mouth near my ear.

I turned my head and closed my eyes, and I didn’t see her eyes. She had freed me, or so I thought. “Give me a chance,” she whispered. “You’re tempted to run. You could. You’d have to push me from your lap, but if you don’t look into my eyes, it would be simply a physical tussle.”

“Is this your way of letting me go?”

“It’s my way of giving you a choice,” she said. “It’s my sister’s birthday today, and you’re her type.”

It took a moment. I began to laugh. “You’re pimping me to your sister?”

“That’s a crude way of putting it. It’s more like a singing telegram.”

“I’m a writer, not a singer.”

“Any compulsions I give you will end approximately ten minutes after I deliver you, unless you ask me to give you others.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Do you have any bad habits you would like to quit?”

“Oh,” she said. “You can do that?”

“Yes,” she said. “That I can do. Will you be my sister’s birthday present, Soledad?”

“Will I like being her birthday present?”

“Oh, yes,” she purred. “Absolutely.”

“Is she a horrible person?”

“She’s a wonderful person.”

“Then why does she need you to give me to her?” I asked. “Why not just get her a puppy.”

She laughed. “You’re not a puppy.”

“You could make me act like one, I bet.”

“Do you want me to?”

“No. Could you?”

“I have the power, but there would be consequences,” she replied. “It would depend on the situation. I’m not going to explain at this time. Frankly, it would take too long. I believe you enjoy how I look.”

“And we’re not talking about your eyes.”

“No. She’s three years younger than I am. We’re not twins. But we can trade clothes, and at least in the right light, people sometimes mistake us for each other. Not in good light, but if you’re expecting me and see her, you might make the mistake.”

I thought for a minute. “What are you going to make me do?”

“My sister does not have these types of powers. Only one woman in my family has them at a time. I inherited when my great-grandmother died. It goes to the youngest female in the line, eight years or older. I was ten. If Great-Grandmother had lived another year, my sister would have inherited instead.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. “And?”

“And I once gave her a compulsion to cooperate with my birthday and Christmas presents to her.”

“And?”

“There are a variety of birthday traditions in this country. One of them is gift-giving.”

“Yes? And?”

“One of them is birthday spankings.”

I began laughing again then pushed her away. Her head was turned, but I reached up to her chin and pulled her to face me, then pointedly stared into her eyes. She didn’t resist me, and I was lost in them immediately.

We stared at each other for a minute. I think she was waiting to ensure I was deeply, utterly trapped. “You did come to one wrong conclusion. You won’t be spanking my sister.” Then she told me everything that was going to happen.

At the end, she asked, “Do you have any habits you want to break?”

“Please let me explain all of it.”

“Of course, Sweetie.”

I smiled at that. She was intentionally using the name I had called the orange. “When I’m nervous, I tend to tear my nails. It’s a terrible habit. But when I do it, it’s soothing. Calming. I’ve tried stress balls instead, but they don’t do it for me.”

“I can fix this for you,” she said. “Do you mind if I’m a tiny bit playful about it?”

“Not if it’s going to lead to public embarrassment.”

“It won’t.”

“Then please, if you can fix this, I’d appreciate it.”

She nodded. “You will not remember my next words, but they will become part of who you are.” Then she spoke, and I don’t remember a single word for what was undoubtedly several minutes, except this.

She asked a question. I don’t remember what. I remember my answer. “Yes.”

When she’d snared me, as I said, I was looking rather unkempt. The Witch brought me back to her car. She ordered me to close my eyes, but to see only hers. We drove. We parked. She came to my side and ordered me to look into her eyes again. And then she told me what I would say and do.

She took my hand and led me inside: a day spa. We had appointments. I told the attendant what I’d been told.

They did Spa Things to both of us, side-by-side. Hair. Nails. Faces. The works, really. I hadn’t treated myself to something like this in a long time, and it was lovely.

We drove. We parked. I looked into her eyes, and she told me what I would say and do. She bought me new clothes. Oh, nothing fancy, but nice. A light teal, silk blouse. A long skirt. Stockings and garters. A low pair of heels.

We drove. She brought me back into her house. I looked into her eyes. A minute later, I undressed. I put on the blouse, undies, the skirt, the stockings, held by the garters, and finally the shoes. I stood, and she smiled. “Perfect,” she said.

We drove. We parked. “Look into my eyes.” I did. “Unbutton the blouse enough to show a little.” I did. “This is my sister’s house. Unless she gives you permission, you will not remember where it is or what it looks like. Unless she gives you permission, you will not be able to describe either of us. Unless she gives you permission, you will not remember our names. Do you have questions?”

“How will I get back to my car?”

“Your car is at home. One of us will drive you. Ready?”

I nodded. She spoke for a few minutes and then released me.

The Sister

Carrying a birthday card, I walked to the front door and rang the bell. I was about to ring it again when the door opened.

The witch was right. If I hadn’t been expecting someone else, the woman who opened the door could have been the witch. Except her eyes were blue, not green, and there were no swirling specs of gold.

I held out the envelope. “Happy Birthday, Trinity.”

She smiled and took the envelope from me. She opened it and withdrew the birthday card, one that had been created by hand. She opened the card and read it, smiling the entire time. Then she lifted her eyes back to me. “I can break any compulsion she’s given you.”

“She said she is the only one with the power.”

“She has the power, but I am her checks and balances,” Trinity explained. “The one who is ready accepts the power. The one who is closest accepts the responsibility.”

I smiled. “Unless you are rejecting your birthday present, I think you should invite me inside.”

She returned my smile and stepped aside, holding the door widely. “Please come in.”

I stepped past her and turned, waiting for the door to close. Then the next set of directions came into play. I took her hand. “You are to cooperate.”

“Yes,” she said, a whisper, one that sounded familiar.

It was my turn to walk backwards. I led her after me, bringing her to her living room. I pushed her to the sofa. “Stay.” Then I walked around the room, closing the blinds. There were candles about, and matches waiting, and so I lit them, moving slowly.

I could feel Trinity’s eyes upon me the entire time.

Finally, I turned to her then, walking slowly, crossed the room straight to her. I didn’t say anything. Instead, entirely helpless to the commands of the witch, I crawled onto the lap of her sister, this rather attractive woman who was looking at me with some amount of hunger.

I realized in that moment that I was feeling my own hunger. Was that mine, or something the witch had done? I didn’t know.

I crawled into her lap then lay down, my hips across her knees, my bottom most readily available.

“Happy Birthday, Trinity,” I said. “It is time for you to give me your birthday spankings.”

“Oh. My. God.” She whispered. She shuddered a little. “Sis, what did you do?”

I turned my head. “Spank me, Trinity,” I said throatily. “Spank me.”

She didn’t, not instantly. Instead, her hand lifted. She hooked my skirt and lifted it. I wriggled, and when I did, she gasped.

I looked up again, and I could see where she was staring. Then her hand settled over my ass, caressing. My eyes lidded. “Yes,” I said. “Trinity.”

She caressed for a minute, and then her hand lifted away. I was filled with anticipation. Her hand descended in a firm but not cruel whack. I flinched then moaned. “One,” I said.

Then she rubbed. Her hand lifted and descended. “Two.”

She spanked, slowly, rubbing in between. And as she did, I felt myself growing increasingly aroused. By ten, I was squirming heavily. By twenty, the squirming was non-stop, and I was moaning besides. “Twenty. Oh, yes. Yes.”

She reached thirty, and gave out a little cry of her own. I looked up, and in just a glance, I knew she was as lost to the experience as I was. “Don’t stop now,” I told her.

She didn’t.

A minute later, we both moaned together. “Thirty-seven.”

I continued to lay there, trembling and filled with the deepest need. Trinity was panting, her hand still on my ass. I lay there for another minute, and then turned my head to look at her again. “Take them off,” I commanded.

She knew what I meant. She slipped her fingers into the waistband of the panties. I wriggled as she moved them down, finally peeling them from my legs. They tangled in one foot, but I waved and wriggled it. She wriggled the panties until they were free before tossing them aside.

“Touch me,” I ordered, spreading for her.

She obeyed me, her hand coming back to my bottom first. She stroked for a minute, teasing me. I moaned. So did she. I wriggled.

Her hand grew bolder, but not as bold as I wanted.

“Touch me, Trinity!” I ordered firmly. “I need you. Oh god, I need you!”

Her fingers found my womanhood. She brushed, and I gasped. “Yes!” I said. “God, yes!”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Soledad,” I said. “My name is Soledad. I’m an author. None of that matters. I’m your birthday present. Don’t leave me like this.” I reached down with one hand, found hers, and practically shoved her fingers inside of me.

She didn’t need any further encouragement. As I gasped and moaned and squirmed and cried out in my passion, she took me. She took the strange woman lying across her lap.

When I came, I came hard, and I cried out loudly. She tried to withdraw, but I snaked my hand back down and pressed her back into place. Then I lay there gasping. Her fingers twitched, and I gasped again, and again.

And then, as she pressed inside me, the second orgasm arrived, this one smaller than the next. A third followed the second before I slumped entirely.

I lay still, panting heavily, for another minute or two before I began to move.

I slipped from her lap, but I captured her hand and held it. I held it while I shifted on the floor, now kneeling before her and sliding closer, forcing her legs apart. I looked up into her eyes, and then I lifted her hand to my mouth and began to clean it.

“Oh. My. God.” She whispered.

With my mouth, I made love to her hand. She stared at me the entire time. I made love to her hand until I was satisfied.

But then I released it, setting it on my head. The idea of her fingers, dampened, turned me on even further.

Yeah, that sounds weird now, but oh, it was hot at the time.

I went to work on her slacks. That took more squirming from both of us, but I yanked the pants from her, and her undies, then laughed and went after the blouse and bra besides.

I got her naked. I smiled, squirmed a little, bowed my head, then hooked my arms under her legs and yanked, spreading her more widely and opening her to me. She gave out a squeak of surprise, but I buried my head and began to lick.

She went insane, and she was definitely a screamer. At the same time, she used her hand on my head, guiding me a little, pulling me against her a little.

I tried to take my time with her, but she was absolutely dripping and halfway there from the beginning. From the sounds and shudders, she came every bit as hard as I did.

I took her with my mouth. Then, while she recovered, I climbed back onto the sofa with her, and before she was fully aware, I had my hands on her. I took her again, sliding in and out slowly, teasing her, but it was her time to grab a hand and shove it more tightly.

She gave out a growl as she came her second time, then she slumped against me, my fingers inside her. I waited a minute then slowly withdrew. I looked at my hand. Her eyes snapped open as I put my fingers in my mouth and cleaned her from me the way I’d cleaned myself from her.

She watched me the entire time. I pretended to ignore her.

Finally I smiled and turned to her. “Happy Birthday,” I said. “Please take me to bed.”

She did.

Aftermath

It was fully dark out before we finally came up for real air. We lay in her bed, limbs and bedding both strewn about, it seemed.

“Soledad, right?”

I laughed. “Ever been done by a complete stranger before?”

“Only on my birthday,” she said.

I thought about that. I didn’t care for the implications. But I didn’t give her a hard time. I was her birthday present, and I wasn’t going to ruin this for her by turning needy or jealous.

“That sounded really bad,” she added.

“Your sister has a pattern of presents for you?”

“The last time she did something like this was eight years ago. Last year, she made me go skydiving.”

“You said you can stop her.”

“I’ve done that exactly three times since she gained her powers, and twice were for practice.”

I leaned up and kissed her cheek. “Was I a good birthday present?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Are you leaving?”

“Are you asking me to?”

“No.”

“Good,” I said. I smiled. “You should know, the compulsions all ended a while ago.”

“All of them?” she asked.

“Well,” I said. “She offered to help me break a habit.”

“Ah.”

“And by ‘a while ago’, I mean when we reached thirty-seven.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your birthday present was spanking me,” I said. “I was free to go any time after that. Everything that happened after that was entirely us. Well, at least for my part.”

“You were out of your mind, Soledad,” she said. “I recognize my sister’s handiwork.”

“Fine,” I said. “So she made me enjoy the spanking. But I felt the end of her compulsions. It was with the last swat, not counting the ones about not being able to tell anyone about this.”

She turned her head and kissed me. “Thank you for my birthday present.”

“You’re welcome, Trinity,” I said. “You should call her and thank her.”

“Is that your way of telling me you want to leave?”

“No. Invite me to stay.”

“Please stay.”

“I’ll be here when you find your phone, but I’d like to hear you talk to her.”

She laughed and climbed from the bed.

“Hey, Sis. You’re a naughty girl.”

“Put her on speaker,” I ordered.

“I’m putting you on speaker,” Trinity said. She poked at the phone. “Can you hear me?”

“She’s still there?”

“I am,” I said. “Thank you for Trinity’s birthday present.”

The Witch began laughing. “You’re both welcome.”

“Please don’t make me forget.”

Trinity eyed me. Then she smiled. “You may remember everything.”

I felt… something. It was permission to remember, and it felt very, very good. I smiled. “Thank you.” I nodded to the phone. “You haven’t thanked her.”

“Thank you, Sis,” Trinity said with a smile. “I love my present.”

“I thought you might,” replied The Witch. “Should I pick it up and drive it home.”

“You’re taking it back?” Trinity asked.

The Witch laughed. “Are you taking responsibility for your gift, Trinity?”

“If she lets me.”

“She does,” I said. “My car?”

“Home. Your purse is on Trinity’s kitchen counter.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Good night, Witch.”

“Good night, Soledad. Happy Birthday, Trinity.”

Trinity clicked off and set the phone aside, then looked down at me. I had carefully arranged myself on the bed after cleaning up a little, and I thought, even with the haze of sexual arousal set aside, she liked what she saw. “Will you stay the night?”

“I will,” I said.

We cuddled and talked, then finally slept in each other’s arms.

“Good morning,” I said. I was a little nervous. She was about to drive me home, and I didn’t think I’d see her again.

“Good morning,” she said. She leaned over and kissed my forehead. “I hate to do this, but I have to work today.”

“It’s fine,” I said.

“I’m going to shower and get ready, and I can drive you home on my way.”

“I can take an Uber,” I offered.

“Unless you wouldn’t enjoy letting me drive you, I’d rather do it my way, but I won’t force you.” She paused, reading my expression. “Seriously, Soledad. Please let me drive you home. I won’t be long.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“There’s something downstairs for you. It’s beside your purse. You’re supposed to open it.”

“All right.”

I had to find my clothes. They were strewn about. But I found everything then made my way to Trinity’s kitchen. I found my purse and beside it, a brightly-wrapped package. There was a card on the top with my name prominently displayed and a post-it that said, “Open me.”

I started with the card. It was another hand-made and said simply, “Thank you. Green Eyes.”

I didn’t even know her name. I thought that was indicative of just how often I’d see either of them again. I sighed, and then slowly opened my gift.

Then I laughed. She’d bought me stress balls. I had no idea where she’d gotten them, but there were six of them, each different. I took one out then closed the box and carried both to the living room. I plopped down, squeezing the ball.

It felt so good, so good, and I found myself calming down. My eyes closed as I continued to squeeze and relax, squeeze and relax.

I was still there when Trinity found me. “What did she give you?” she asked. She laughed when I explained about curing my bad habit.

“You’re not going to ask if it worked?”

“Oh, please,” she said. “Of course it worked. I wish we could spend the day, but I have a nine AM.”

“Right. Sorry.” I got up, slipped my shoes on, and straightened.

We pulled up into my driveway. I was ready to slip from the car, but Trinity set her hand on my arm. I turned to her.

“Thank you.”

I smiled. “You’re welcome. Thank you.”

She returned my smile. “You’re welcome. Soledad.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I had a good time.”

“Go out with me.”

“Yes. When?”

“Saturday. I’ll pick you up at 5:30. Dinner and maybe a movie.”

“What type of dinner?”

“Are you choosy?”

“I want to know what to wear.”

“Oh. Someplace with table linens. I’ll make reservations. Do you have preferences?”

“Not too spicy and maybe no garlic.”

She smiled. “Definitely no garlic. Is that because you don’t like garlic?”

“Not secondhand, I don’t,” I said.

She nodded. “Agreed. I want your phone number.”

I pulled my phone from my purse and unlocked it. She took it from me and dialed, and a moment later, hers rang. She waited a minute then, when it went to voice mail, said, “This is Soledad’s phone.” Then she clicked off and handed it back. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

“I understand, but you’re going to walk me to the door, aren’t you?”

She laughed, and we both climbed from the car. It was a nice kiss, even if far too brief.

Date Night

I squeezed the stress ball and relaxed, then laughed. The Witch was good. I’d have to thank her. If this were permanent, my nails and cuticles might actually be safe. Yes, I know it was a bad habit. Sue me. I don’t do drugs. I don’t smoke. I drink socially but lightly. I’m a safe driver. And I tear my nails. In the scheme of things, that’s not so bad.

But, apparently, I didn’t tear them anymore.

The bell rang, and I practically ran to the door.

Trinity and I stared at each other. She was tall and elegant. Her ears sparkled. I had decided I was an author. White blouse, black slacks, and a black beret. Low heels. I looked as good as I do without professional help, but probably not half as good as I did when I showed up on her doorstep four days ago.

But we stared at each other, and I realized I was smiling inanely. “You look nice,” she said.

“So do you,” I replied. “Come in.”

“We should go.”

“Is this a real date?”

“Of course it’s a real date,” she said.

I smiled. “I don’t want to give the neighbors a show when you kiss me.”

She laughed me and stepped inside. I closed the door and moved into her arms, then lifted my face towards hers. She wrapped around me, and my eyes were closed by the times our lips met.

She did something I liked. She set fingers on the side of my cheek while she kissed me. I’d always liked that, and I murmured into the kiss. When finally she released me, I told her, “That was nice.”

“I agree. You may demand hello kisses as often as you desire.”

“Is that what it takes?” I asked. “Must I demand them?”

“I can be a little focused,” she replied. “I was focused on picking you up and taking you to a nice dinner. That makes me single minded.”

“And you don’t stop to smell the roses?”

“Not without prompting. So please. Prompt. Okay?”

“Okay,” I said. “I can handle that. But when I have your attention, I have it, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good.” I pointed to my coffee table. More exactly, to the stress ball on the coffee table. “Thank her for me.”

“I will.”

“Now we can go.”

We talked. Partway through the meal, I leaned forward and set my hand into hers, then used my free hand to close her fingers. We held hands for the rest of the meal. She paid the bill, waving away my offer. “I invited you,” she said.

“I can pay my share.”

“We can discuss that another time,” Trinity said. “Tonight, everything is my treat. Please don’t argue.”

“Then I won’t,” I said. “Thank you.”

“I want to take you home.”

“Okay,” I agreed immediately.

“If I take you home, then this was all about more sex.”

“I think I’d be fine with that.”

“I would, too. Instead, we’re going to a movie.”

I laughed. “No sex?”

“Maybe later,” she suggested in a fashion that assured me there was no ‘maybe’ about it.

During the movie, we cuddled together. No one paid any attention to us. It was a sweet movie, and we sat for a minute during the credits.

We didn’t speak. We stood up, and then she took my hand. We walked like that to her car. She handed me in and even did my seat belt for me, which amused me. Then, standing in the open doorway, she caressed my cheek. We looked at each other.

“I want you,” she whispered.

“Good.”

“I asked my sister. She assured me this attraction might have been triggered by my birthday present, but it’s not any form of compulsion.”

“Is she lying?”

“No. The magic doesn’t allow her to lie to me. She can refuse to answer, but she can’t lie. To me. She can lie to you or anyone else. Just not to me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“I wasn’t worried.”

“I was,” she said. She caressed my cheek again. “I want you.”

“You said that,” I told her. “But I’d rather we not act on it in the parking lot.”

She laughed and closed my door.

“So,” she said, halfway to her house. “What do you think we should do when I get you home?”

“I think we should start by undressing each other.”

“That’s a good start.”

“And then…” I squirmed. “You should rub my bottom.”

“Should I?” I looked over at her, and she gave a little squirm to match mine. She glanced at me. “I want to do more than rub your bottom.”

“Good,” I whispered.

After that, we didn’t talk. She drove. I sat and squirmed.

We reached her house. I followed her inside then took her purse from her and set both on the kitchen counter. Then I turned to her, stepping into her and looking up into her eyes.

“There’s something we should talk about,” Trinity said.

“We can talk tomorrow,” I told her. “You said you wanted me. I’m about to walk to your bedroom, and by the time I get there, I’m going to be naked. You may begin to touch me once you’re not wearing any more clothing than I am.”

And then I pushed away from her, turned, and began working on buttons. Trinity followed me, laughing, as I took clothing off, tossing it every which way. The blouse was first. That landed on a doorknob to, I thought, the basement. I carried the bra into the living room and aimed for the television. I lifted one foot and undid a shoe, then sent it into a corner. I hopped about working on the second, which I tossed up the stairs.

My skirt when over the railing. My undies? I carried them into the bedroom then tossed them at her dresser.

Then I climbed onto the bed and turned around, kneeling and watching her.

Trinity looked at me for a minute. She stared, really, grinning broadly. I gestured. “All that. Off.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said.

She was far more decorous about undressing than I was, even hanging things up. But I watched as she removed every stitch before she turned towards me.

She walked closer. I edged forward until I was kneeling upright, taller than her this way. She came to a stop, and I wrapped arms around her neck.

We kissed. We kissed deeply. And she set her hands on my bottom.

I began to squirm. With that simple touch, I began to squirm. She stroked, and she patted lightly, and I squirmed.

“I want to spank you,” she whispered into my ear.

“Yes,” I told her. “Across your lap. You. Up there.” I pointed.

She climbed onto the bed. I waited as she arranged herself, sitting upright and leaning against the headboard. Then I crawled after her and lay down across her lap, both of us naked this time.

Her hand reached down for my bottom. The other? She set it on the back of my neck, pressing down. I let her hold me like that.

She rubbed, and then she lifted and gave a swat.

And I moaned with pleasure.

She swatted me again, and I cried out then turned my head. “More!” I demanded.

She gave me ten swats in all, ten good, firm swats. Before she was done, we were both panting, and I was filled with need.

Ten swats, and then she held me there, her hand still on my neck, her other resting on my bottom. But then she tugged. “Come here.”

I turned, straddled her, and then loomed over her. We kissed, and as we kissed, her hand slipped between us, and she entered me.

I rode her hand, lost in the passion.

We lay together later. We’d both given. We’d both accepted. And we’d both done what was clearly taking. But eventually we calmed, laying together with the just a sheet over us. Trinity was on her back. I lay on my side, cupping one breast, squeezing it lightly.

That felt good, and I found myself calming.

“We should talk,” she said.

“Three most dreaded words in a relationship,” I muttered. “You have nice boobs.”

“Thanks,” she said. “You’re a writer, and you can’t find a more romantic way to say that?”

“Not right now.” I squeezed and relaxed. “I like doing this.”

“It’s calming, isn’t it?”

“Uh huh. For you, too?”

“No, but if we ask my sister, she could arrange that, like she did to you.”

My hand froze, then I lifted my eyes to look at her. “What?”

“My sister can be playful,” Trinity said. “It’s not just stress balls that calm you.”

It took a minute before I began laughing. I realized she was right. “Anything else I should know about? Am I going to start fondling guys or something?”

“No,” Trinity said with her own laugh. “Stress balls and my breasts.”

“No one else’s?”

“Nope. Disappointed?”

“No.” I went back to squeezing gently. Trinity didn’t seem to mind and eventually added her hand atop mine. She held me to her and kissed my forehead. “You may do that all you want,” she said.

“Good. I will.”

“There’s something we should discuss.”

“I don’t think I want to.”

“It was years ago.”

“Okay,” I said slowly.

“My sister gave me a certain fetish.”

“Oh. Should I guess.”

“Sure.”

“Spanking.”

“Yep.”

“Why would she do that?”

“She made me take her birthday spanking.”

“How old?”

“She was 22. I was 18.”

“And there were still birthday spankings involved.”

“Cousins. They get theirs, too.”

“Okay,” I said. “But she made you accept them on her behalf?”

“Right. My cousins know what she is, and what I am for her.”

“Is this the one time you stopped her?”

“No. I didn’t realize what she was going to do when she started. She actually caught me by surprise. It’s one of the things she practices. Once she came into her power, I was her prime practice target, although my cousins weren’t immune. With them, she had to be, well, gentler. They didn’t have the responsibility, but we’d grown up together, and they were okay. As long as she wasn’t mean.”

“All right.”

“So. She caught me by surprise, and the first thing she does is deepen the compulsion to stare into her eyes.”

“Okay.”

“Then she told me I wouldn’t remember what she was telling me.”

“Oh, my.”

“And that was when she gave me a spanking fetish.”

“Ah. So you’re asking me to spank you.”

“No. And then she made me offer to take her birthday spankings for her. She did all this to an audience.”

“The cousins.”

“Yep.”

“And?”

“And I asked if I could have her spankings.”

“And you liked it?”

“I loved it. Oh, it wasn’t incestuous or anything. It wasn’t about sex. But I loved it.”

“Okay.”

“But afterwards, she felt really guilty. I didn’t realize that, but when my birthday came around, she caught me again.”

“And deepened the fetish?”

“Swapped it.”

I laughed. “Ah ha!”

She took my birthday spankings that year, delivered by me, and for the next three years afterwards.

I laughed again. “And?”

“For my 23rd birthday, she caught someone for me. It wasn’t the first time she caught someone, but it was the first time she made her do more than kiss me.”

“And you’re okay with that? The ethics?”

“It was always pretty innocent. Do you mind that she caught you?”

“No.”

“She brought me this lovely, lovely girl, who asked me to spank her.”

“Did you make love afterwards?”

“No. I kissed her cheek. Sis made her think it had all been her idea, but she didn’t want to tell anyone. And we drove her home.”

“Okay.”

“At this point, we were sharing an apartment. We got home, and she asked why I hadn’t wanted more with her. Then, before I could answer, she caught me. I let her, and that was when she made it sexual with me.”

“Ah.”

“And that was when I stopped her, the only time I stopped her for real.”

“That doesn’t explain your reaction to spanking me.”

“She was confused why I was upset. I told her she can’t do that to people. It was taking playful too far. We talked, and then I agreed to let her compel me again, but slightly differently.”

“Oh?”

“She must give me only the willing. She has to give them a choice. I may verify they had a choice, but if they have, I become entirely lost to it.”

I laughed again. “And here we are? I’m here because your sister compelled you?”

“It just covers spankings. The rest of this is you and me.” Then she squeezed my hand. “Well, this part is her, too.”

“Don’t fool yourself, I’d play with them regardless.” But I chuckled.

“Here’s the thing, Soledad.”

“Yes?”

“She gave you the mirror compulsion.”

I froze and then thought about it. “So she turned me into some sort of spanking slut?”

“Only with me.”

At that, I relaxed. “Good.” I smiled, then laughed. “I think I gave her permission to do that to me.”

“I know.”

“Good. Is this the big thing you needed to talk about?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Three Weeks Later

“I’m going a little crazy here,” I said into the phone. “It’s been three days, Lover.”

“What are you talking about, Soledad?”

“I’m getting dressed and driving over, Trinity.”

She stilled, understanding. “I can make her remove the compulsion, Soledad.”

“Don’t you dare,” I said.

“Bring clothes for tomorrow. This weekend, we’ll move you in.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Twenty minutes later, I crawled across her lap, yanking my skirt up. “Spank me.”

The resulting sex was out of this world.

The Witch

I smiled. The author’s car was parked in the driveway, right where it belonged. I parked beside it and climbed from the car.

I used my key on the front door. I didn’t worry either of them would hear me. Trinity had long been compelled against it, and the author also, far more recently.

I’d spent two years finding the right woman for my sister. I’d finally found the cute little author seven months ago. She wouldn’t remember any of our encounters prior to the grocery store.

My sister could break my compulsions, and if I were sufficiently egregious in my actions, yank my power from me. If she did that, it would flow to her, now the youngest female following the female lines from my great-great grandmother. And so I’d left an obvious story so she wouldn’t go looking for any others.

Trinity couldn’t know I’d broken up the author’s previous relationship, nor that I’d been sending her to the doctor besides.

Oh, don’t look at me like that. They’re both happy, and that other woman hadn’t properly appreciated the author.

I climbed the stairs to the bedroom. They lay entwined in bed together, and the room smelled like sex. What a surprise. I’d certainly made sure they’d be insatiable for each other without doing anything Trinity might ask about.

I stepped to my sister’s side of the bed and touched her arm. “Trinity.” She opened her eyes, and I was already waiting. I caught her instantly, and then I encouraged her to look more deeply. She didn’t fight me. She’d long, long ago been conditioned not to.

“Answer me honestly. Are you in love?”

“Yes.”

“The sort of love that becomes permanent?”

“Yes. Did you do this to us, Sis?”

“I found the right woman for you,” I answered. “And I gave her that little fetish. You’re welcome.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

“The lust is at least partly my doing, but the love is entirely without compulsion.” That was true, but I’d been pretty confident. After all, they’d both had me whispering into their ear for the last six months. The author went from preferring to date within a year or two of her age to having a distinct preference for women older than her. Trinity had gone from preferring bad girls—what do you think I built the spanking fetish on, after all?—to preferring the ingénue. Those weren’t the only changes, of course.

“You’re not here to ask if I’m in love.”

I bore down. “Trinity, the woman beside you is flighty and flaky, but a good woman for you. You enjoy taking care of her. For as long as you both so choose, you will do so. Most of the time, you will do things your way, but when something is deeply important to her, you will do it the way she wants.”

I pushed, and I felt her absorb the compulsion. She could still fight it, and so I asked, “Do you have a problem with that?”

“It doesn’t seem necessary.”

“You can be a bulldozer,” I said. “When it’s important, you’ll listen to her.”

At that, she nodded. “Thank you.” Then she frowned. “What about what she wants?”

“I did say ‘for as long as you both want’,” I pointed out. “But let’s ask her. Trinity, you will lay quietly and say nothing.”

She didn’t even think about fighting that. I patted her cheek and then leaned past her. “Soledad. Wake up and look into my eyes.”

I trapped her immediately. She didn’t even try to resist me. “Soledad, answer my question honestly. Are you in love?”

“Yes,” she said with a smile.

“Do you want to live with Trinity?”

“Yes?”

“Permanently?”

“As long as she wants me,” said the author.

“All right. You will lay quietly and hear nothing until I next touch your cheek. Close your eyes, but continue to see my eyes.”

She closed slowly. I turned my attention back to my sister, but I didn’t trap her immediately. I patted her cheek again and asked, “All right?” She nodded and smiled. “Good.” I caught her again, deepened it, and then said, “If the two of you have troubles, you will come to me and ask me to help. You will forget I was here tonight. You will hear nothing else I say. Go to sleep.”

It took seconds for her to obey. I covered her in the covers then walked around to the other side of the bed. I touched Soledad’s cheek. “Look at me, little author.”

She opened her eyes, and I snared her. “That feels so good,” she said dreamily.

“Good,” I said. “You will let Trinity take care of you, but when something is important to you, you will be as stubborn as necessary until she listens. If the two of you have troubles, you will come to me and ask me to help.”

“We will,” she whispered.

“You will continue to write books,” I continued. “But you will let Trinity take your attention to maintain a healthy relationship.”

“I will,” she replied.

“Do you have requests for me?”

“Will you give us more fetishes?”

I smiled. “I’ll think about that, but I think the two of you should come to me about that.”

“I’ll talk to her.”

“Good. You will remember everything that has happened tonight until this moment. If Trinity asks you, you will be honest, but you won’t tell her I was here unless she asks. You will not remember anything else I say.” I waited until her lips parted, indicating she was deeper under my control. “You want children,” I told her. “You are younger, and it is far safer for you to carry them. Furthermore, it is very, very important to you that you use your eggs.”

“My eggs,” she whispered.

“When it is time, I’ll help you be a good mother,” she added. “Sleep well, Soledad.” I caressed her cheek, and she promptly fell asleep.

I smiled, tucked them both in a little better, and then saw my way from the house.

So, what was all that about? I’d already seen to my female cousins. This would have been impossible if doing this had originally been my idea. Oh, no, nothing about this was new with me.

I am descended from a long, long list of witches, at least two thousand years old, and it was believed to have been much, much longer than that. We had family records going back fifteen hundred years, and notes from that time indicating it had been a lot longer. Yes, we had records of the family tree, for as far as it mattered.

When the magic passes, there are rules, or so we can understand from the record. It only goes to a girl, and only one on her mother’s side. If Trinity and I had brothers, their daughters would not receive my magic. The girl is always the youngest of the choices, age eight or older. Four hundred years ago, a child’s grandmother had died the day before her eighth birthday, and the magic had gone to her fourteen-year-old cousin. But when she had died giving birth to her third daughter, the magic had shifted back to that first girl’s middle daughter, who had turned eight two weeks previously.

But who was eligible was muddled. The magic preferred to follow the line of the current holder, but it was willing to hop to a descendent of the previous owner. In other words, if I died, currently my sister would receive the magic, and I was okay with that. But once one of my female cousins had a child, that child would be eligible, beginning with her eighth birthday.

And it could be even wider than that. It was my great-grandmother who had held the magic previously. The magic could have hopped to my second-cousins, and that is what would have happened instead of coming to me, except my aunt had been busy.

She had been working her way through the family, quietly killing any girls younger than her youngest daughter, and she’d been doing it for a while. Those that were older had been rendered barren. I don’t know how she did any of it.

So how did Trinity and I survive? Easy. My aunt had a stroke. She was never the same after that. But that didn’t stop me from asking her about it, oh, perhaps eight years ago. She hadn’t been happy that I forced her to answer me and had begged me to allow her grandbabies. I’d agreed. Her son had three brats. Her daughters, surprisingly, wouldn’t be having any, not directly. Two of them were in the process of adopting.

So, here we were. Trinity and me. Trinity wouldn’t be having any children, either, but with her, I had to be far more careful. I couldn’t arrange for her to become barren. First off, that’s a horrible thing to do to your own sister. And secondly, and more importantly for my purposes, the chance she’d catch me was too high.

Oh, no. She’d be perfectly happy raising daughters with the cute little author. Oh, she’d be quite happy.

I sure had put enough effort into ensuring it.

I climbed into my car then set my hand on my stomach. I’d be showing soon. They were twin girls. That had been expensive to arrange, or would have been for anyone else. Modern science, meet ancient magic.