Sometimes, You Have to Lose to Win
Monica Malloy was pissed.
She’d recognized the signs almost from the beginning but somehow, that almost made it worse. It meant whoever had done it wasn’t all that skillful in what she’d done. If she had been, Monica would have never known what had been done to her until it was already too late to do anything about it so the fact that she did know meant that whoever’d done it was either without skill or guile.
But what pissed her off the most was not the fact that it had worked at all. She was supposed to be warded and protected against these things. Such a spell like that should have just bounced off her. Hell, she knew she was protected. She’d created the protections herself, and yet somehow, someone had managed to slip in under her defenses. Just how the hell had that happened?
But the fact that she knew about it was something, at least. It meant she could fight it and if she could fight it, she could win, so this fight was far from over.
The problem, Monica knew, was this was a fight she could easily lose. Even now, she could feel the spell working on her, making her want to do things she knew she shouldn’t do, but increasing her desire to do them anyway.
Monica’s rise in the world of witchcraft had been unprecedented but it had never been without merit. At 29, she was the youngest leader that the Council of Witches had ever had which meant she was the most powerful witch in the world. That alone had made her a target especially by the older witches who’d thought she’d come up way too far and way too fast.
The last attack had come last year when she’d been elected to the head of the council. Moira’s attack had been so easy to detect. It was childish almost in the way it was laid out. It was almost as if the bitch had wanted to be caught, and to think she thought she was better than Monica. That was laughable.
But this, this was different. Monica moaned in frustration. Whoever had done this to her had done a damned good job.
She gritted her teeth. Fight it, she told herself. Fight it.
Monica moaned in frustration. She could fight but it was hard.
There was a way. Every spell, no matter how trivial or how complex, every spell bore with it a aural fingerprint of the life force that had been used to create it. If she could find that fingerprint and isolate it, then she could get herself free from this.
The only problem was that meant becoming even more intimately involved with the spell and with what the spell wanted her to do. On the other hand, the spell required something from her. If she could somehow force herself to not give in to what the spell wanted, the spell would dissipate. The problem was, spells like this one, they could be so damned insistent and a momentary lapse or weakness would be enough to doom her.
Tough choice, Monica thought. Try to avoid the spell and risk being overcome by it, or try to become more in touch with the spell and risk giving oneself up without a fight.
Monica shuddered. She could already feel what the spell wanted her to do. It was like an itch she couldn’t scratch. It was a thought there in the back of her mind, a thought not yet known to her, but becoming more insistent. It was a thought she had to fight but all it would take was one moment of weakness.
Monica groaned. Tough choice, but she couldn’t keep going on like this. She needed to know who had cast the spell.
It took her the rest of the morning to get the things she needed together. If she didn’t do it right, before she even knew what she was doing, she could find herself giving in to what the spell wanted of her.
Finally though, she was ready. Even with her wards and charms in place, she could feel the danger she was in as she started to unravel the spell.
She was amazed. The spell was so juvenile. It had the feel almost of something that had been read out of a text book. Whoever had cast it lacked finesse. Even as she looked at the spell, she could see where the pieces were misaligned and where the edges were tattered and yet, as clumsy as the spell was, there was no doubt that to some extent at least, it had worked, but for the life of her, Monica couldn’t understand why.
The aural signature was there as well.
Monica couldn’t help but gasp as her mind touched that part of the spell. She didn’t exactly recognize the aural signature but one word kept going through her mind. Owner. Owner, Owner.
It would have been so easy to surrender right then and there to what the spell wanted her to be.
Monica groaned. There already was a large part of her that wanted to do nothing more than to surrender to the entity that had created that aura. Monica groaned again. This was farther along than she’d thought.
Monica sat there in her apartment, her body panting and her throat parched as she finally came back to herself. She’d started her exploration in the early afternoon but the shadows had lengthened and her body was tired. Raggedly, she pulled herself to her feet and she padded into her kitchen to make herself some tea.
The spell was more with her now than it had been before. She could feel it wrapping itself around her mind. She knew what it was making her want to do but that wasn’t as useful as one would have thought. Now that the spell had an even greater hold on her, it meant the compulsions to do those things would be even greater. It meant that even though she knew it was the spell making her do those things, it meant she might not be able to resist it.
She took another sip from her cup of tea. And the worst part about it, she thought, was she still had no idea who had cast the spell,
Once again, her fingers tightened around the cup. Her owner, her mind corrected itself. Her owner. She still had no idea who her owner was.
Damn. That spell was even farther along than she thought.
She took another sip from her cup of tea. This was going to be harder than she thought.
That night, Monica Malloy had a very erotic dream. She was on her hands and knees and someone was circling around her. She could hear a voice telling her just how good she was, telling her how good it was to obey. She couldn’t identify the voice as male or female but every time the voice told her how good it was to obey, Monica felt another round of pleasure.
Monica Malloy woke up feeling hot and sweaty. This was not good, she told herself. The spell was in her subconscious mind now and that meant that her subconscious mind was just as liable to turn traitor on her and turn her over to the spellcaster. This was not good at all.
It was the cold shower that did it, that shocked her mind of the thoughts she was having, that allowed her mind to restart itself and that allowed her to begin her day. It wasn’t that the thoughts weren’t still there. It was just that for the moment at least, the compulsions that had been placed upon her were at least diminished to a more manageable level.
One impression that Monica had gotten from her examination of the spell was that the person who had cast it was new or still in training. That meant there might be a record of her in the Council’s archives. It was a long shot, Monica knew, but it was the only shot she had.
Driving helped. The need to obey seemed to be diminished as she put more and more of her attention of the road, but Monica knew better. Her focus in one direction meant she had less attention to devote to fighting the spell, and even if she wasn’t aware of it, she knew the spell was still working on her. Still, the momentary reprieve that driving provided was a welcome relief.
For all the world, the building that housed the Council of Witches looked like little more than just another office buiding, dull, bland, non-descript. The only description that anyone was ever likely to make about the council’s headquarters was that it looked like just about every other building around it.
The receptionist looked up when Monica entered. “Good morning, Ms. Malloy,” the receptionist said as Monica rushed past.
Monica waved almost idly at the girl. She didn’t have time for idle chit chat.
She rushed past the outer door and into the council’s inner sanctum and she walked down the line of cubicles that would take her to the elevators.
“Good morning, Ms. Malloy,” said one worker.
Monica waved again as she scurried past and then someone else greeted her and she waved again.
She waited by the elevators. A man came up and stood beside her. “Monica,” he said deferentially.
Monica looked at the man. Jeremy Woodbury was in accounting. He was new but word was he had quite a head on his shoulders.
Of course, if the rumors were true, that wasn’t the only place he had a good head.
Monica nodded coolly. She didn’t like being aloof but it was a role she had to play. “Jeremy,” she said.
“Third floor,” the man said.
“Please.”
The doors closed.
Jeremy Woodbury never knew what hit him.
The man exhaled heavily as Monica through him up against the wall of the elevator. Her lips were on his and her hand was sliding between his legs.
“Ms. Malloy,” the man said. “Ms. Malloy. You really have to stop.”
“I don’t want to stop,” Monica said. “I want you to want me. I need you.”
The man looked about him nervously. “Ms. Malloy, please—”
“I want to please you,” Monica said. God, she couldn’t believe she was saying that. She sounded like such a slut.
“Ms. Malloy, please,” the man tried again. “Someone will see us.”
Monica waved her hand and in a moment, the elevator had slowed to a very slow crawl. “No one’s going to see us if you hurry.”
“Ms. Malloy, please.”
“I want you to use me,” Monica said even as her hand stroked the man’s cock. “I need to be used. I want you to use me.”
“Ms. Malloy, please.”
“I’m trying to please you,” Monica said even as she slid a hand inside the man’s pants. Her hand wrapped itself around the man’s cock. “I want to please you. I want you to tell me what you want me to do.”
“I ... I don’t know.”
“Come on,” Monica pleaded even as her hand stroked that cock. “Come on. Give me an order.”
“Give you an order?”
“I want you to,” Monica pleaded. “I need you to. Come on. Just one little order. I want you to.”
“Just one little—”
“Tell me what you want me to do. I’ll do anything and everything.”
“Okay. Um, would you ... I mean, if it’s not too much trouble, um ... um, could you suck my cock?”
“Oh God,” the woman moaned. “I thought you’d never ask me.” Monica moaned again. She couldn’t believe she’d just said that.
Monica moaned again. She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe she was dropping to her knees or opening the man’s pants.
She pulled the man’s slacks down and then she looked up at him even as her hand stroked his cock through his boxers. “Is this what you want,” she asked. She could feel the length of him sliding between her thumb and forefinger. “I hope so,” she said even as she pulled his boxers down, “I hope so because I want it, too.”
The man groaned as the woman shoved her mouth down on his cock.
Monica would have groaned, too, were it not for the fact that her mouth was full of cock. She didn’t have to ask herself what was happening to her because she already knew. It was the spell. It was making her want to do this but she also knew it didn’t really matter. Not anymore. She wanted to do this. She wanted to be used.
“Oh fuck,” the man groaned even as the head witch continued to suck him. “Oh fuck. I can’t believe this is happening to me.”
That makes two of us, Monica thought. She couldn’t believe she was sucking on his cock and she couldn’t believe how hot this was making her to give him just exactly what he wanted.
“Oh fuck,” the man groaned again. “Oh fuck, you’re going to make me cum.”
No. That was what Monica wanted to say. No, don’t do it. That was what she wanted to say but that wasn’t what she did say. Instead, she pulled her mouth from the man’s cock if just for a moment and she held his cock even as she looked up at him. “I want you to do it,” she said. “I want you to do it. I want you to cum in my mouth.”
No, she didn’t, she told herself, but she couldn’t help herself. She had to give the man what the man wanted.
“Oh fuck,” the man groaned.
“Oh fuck,” Monica groaned. She didn’t want him to cum in her mouth.
Oh fuck. Monica knew what the man wanted. He wanted to cum in her mouth and that meant she wanted it, too.
The man groaned again and Monica could feel it coming. He was cumming and she swallowed it down. He came again and she swallowed again. He came and she swallowed. He came and she swallowed.
He came.
She swallowed.
With her compulsion having finally been satisfied, sanity was returning once more to Monica but with it came not as much of her freedom as she had had before. The spell had an even greater hold on her now that she’d given in. She’d just offered her body up for a man to use for his pleasure and he’d done exactly that. That was what she was good for, she told herself. She was there to give pleasure and that was that. She wished her owner were there now so she could offer up her body and let it be used like she knew it needed to be used.
Monica stood and straightened her clothes. She tried to shake it off. She tried to tell herself it was nothing. She tried to tell herself that she was still in control of her life, but she knew that wasn’t exactly true. She knew she’d lost something.
The elevator doors opened and Monica Malloy stepped off. This was the inner sanctum of the Council of Witches. This was where the power was and the place showed it. The carpet was plush and the fixtures were gold. Marble statues lined the hallway on either side. She’d have to be careful here. None of the witches here were novices. If she showed weakness here, it would be bad.
She strode into the office of Marci Taylor. She and Marci Taylor had had a bit of a falling out of recent but there had been a time when the two of them had been really good friends and maybe, they would be again. For now though, Marci was in charge of records for the Council of Witches and that meant she had the information that Monica needed.
Marci’s secretary looked up when Monica entered. “Good morning, Ms. Malloy.”
Monica struggled to remember what the girl’s name was. It seemed like Marci’s secretaries kept getting younger and younger every time and their clothes seemed to get tighter and tighter. Not for the first time, Monica wondered if Marci was having a little extracurricular activity with her secretaries. It wasn’t the type of thing that she would do, but she wouldn’t put it past Marci.
Trina, Monica thought. The girl’s name was Trina. “Hello, Trina,” Monica said. “Is your boss in?”
“She’s out for most of the day Trina said. “She’s not going to be back until four. Is there something I can help you with?”
Is there something I can help you with? What a loaded question that was.
Yeah, you could let me lick your pussy. You could let me give you pleasure. You could let me get up under that short, little skirt you’re wearing. I wonder if Marci even lets you wear panties. You could ...
“Is there something wrong, Ms. Malloy?”
Monica shook her head to try and clear it. That was the spell talking, trying to make her like being controlled. She shook her head again and she smiled ruefully. “It’s nothing,” she said lamely. “I was just thinking of something, but I was wondering if you could help me. I need a list of new applications to the council’s training academy.”
“Sure, I can help you with that. How far back do you want to go?”
A good question. How far? Her mind twinged again. What she really wanted was to drop down and slide her tongue between Trina’s legs. She wanted ...
She shook her head. That was the spell talking.
“Ms. Malloy? Are you okay? How far back did you want to go?”
Monica bit her lip. That time with Jeremy had really messed her up. It seemed all she wanted to do now was please other people and especially those that were beneath her.
“How far back did you want it to go,” Trina asked again.
“About a year,” Monica said.
Trina nodded. “That shouldn’t be too hard. I can bring it down to your office in a little bit if you’re okay with that or if you want, you can look at the records here.”
Monica didn’t trust herself. “Why don’t you bring it to my office.”
“I’ll do that,” Trina said and with that, Monica left.
Monica walked down the hall to her own office where her own secretary was waiting for her. “Good morning, boss.”
Monica smiled at the woman. While not as young as Trina, Meredith was still plenty young, but she was good at what she did, too. “Any calls,” Monica asked.
Meredith shook her head. “All quiet here, boss.”
“Good,” Monica said in a tight, little voice.
“You okay, boss?”
“Just fine,” Monica said as she scurried past. “Just ... just choked on something.”
“You want me to get you some water or something?”
“No! I mean no. I’ll be just fine,” Monica said as she slipped into her office. What she hadn’t told her secretary about were the feelings she’d just had. She’d wanted nothing more than to drop down and slide in between Meredith’s legs.
That was the spell talking, dammit. That was the spell.
Yeah, but if that was the case, why was her pussy still so fucking wet.
She switched on her computer and stared at its screen. She picked up her phone but she realized she had no one she wanted to call. She put the phone back down again and she almost got up and then she actually did.
Meredith was working with some papers when Monica stepped into the outer office. “Something I can do for you, Ms. Malloy?”
“How long have you been working for me, Meredith.”
“Almost two years, boss.”
“You like it here?”
“Yeah, it’s a great place to work.”
“That’s not what I meant. I asked if you liked it here.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
What was there to understand, Monica thought. Didn’t the woman get it, but maybe she didn’t. Monica had the feeling that maybe she wasn’t doing as good a job conveying her thoughts as she normally did.
“I was just wondering if you could turn and face me.”
Puzzled, Meredith turned her chair around.
Monica almost moaned with anticipation.
“Boss, what are you doing?”
Monica didn’t bother with an answer. She didn’t need to. She needed to service her secretary and if she did that right, that was all the answer she needed to give.
Meredith moaned as she felt her boss pull her butt to the end of the chair. Monica was pushing her legs apart and then she was pushing her tongue up between Meredith’s legs.
Monica hadn’t even realized her secretary was wearing a thong but it made it easy for her tongue to find the spot. She loved the way her tongue elicited a moan from Meredith and she loved it even more when her tongue elicited a second moan from Meredith.
“Oh my god,” the woman moaned. “Oh my god.”
Monica’s tongue was locked in on Meredith’s clit. Her tongue might dance away from time to time but that tongue always came back and every time it danced back again, it made Meredith moan.
“Oh my god,” Meredith moaned. “Oh my god. Oh fuck, boss. Oh my god. You’re going to make me cum.”
That was the whole point, Monica thought.
Meredith moaned again. There was no doubt about it. Her pussy was wet and she was going to cum.
“What the fuck!”
Monica was too busy between Meredith’s legs to look up and it took her a second to recognize the voice. It was Trina.
“What a bunch of fucking dykes,” the girl spat out. “Here you go and ask me for these printouts and what happens, I find your mouth between her legs. Well, here’s your fucking reports.”
Monica would have told the girl to wait up, that she didn’t mind doing her, too. After all, she lived to serve, but she had the feeling that Trina wasn’t going to be all that receptive to that kind of invitation, and besides, she couldn’t bring herself to pull her tongue from between Meredith’s legs.
If Meredith was upset by the interruption, she hardly showed it. Just a momentary twinge of her legs and then she was moaning all over again as Monica’s tongue did its dirty work.
“Oh my god,” Meredith moaned. “Oh my god. You’re going to make me cum. Oh my god. You’re going to make me cum.”
That was old news. Monica could already feel the passion building between Meredith’s legs and when the woman started to cum, Monica was there to tongue her harder.
“Oh my god,” Meredith moaned. “Oh my god. I’m cumming. I’m cumming. I can’t believe it but you’re making me cum.”
Monica continued to lick Meredith’s pussy, reveling in the secondary shudders that rippled through her secretary’s body and it was only when she was sure that Meredith was starting to come down from her pussy licking that Monica finally started to pull away.
“Oh my god, boss, I can’t believe you did that.”
Monica could. It was that damned spell again. First Jeremy and now Meredith and now, it was getting harder to think about anything else but giving herself over to her new owner.
Not her owner, Monica corrected herself. Not yet. She picked up the sheaf of papers that Trina had brought and she stomped off into her office. She had to find whoever it was who had done this to her.
It turned out finding out who had done it was easier than she’d thought it would be. Just one look was enough because one name was glaringly obvious. She might not have known the girl but just seeing the name was enough to make the word ‘owner’ flash across her mind.
Jodie Davies.
Just looking at the name was enough to make Monica all wet and horny. The desire to please was intense so what the hell was it going to be like if she was in the girl’s presence. Would she end up kneeling in front of her and eating her pussy out?
Monica moaned at the thought of that.
Stop it, she told herself. Stop it.
But it was so hard. Without even realizing she’d done it, she’d let her hand slide between her legs. She wondered what it would be like to meet her, to give herself over to her, to taste her wet pussy, to ...
Stop it, she told herself. Stop it. That wasn’t going to happen, and besides, what was she going to do. She couldn’t just sit around and pretend it wasn’t happening when she knew damn well that it was. If she just sat around, then it really was going to happen.
But to go see her ... that was asking for trouble. She pulled out a spell book. There were spells to break a spell of compulsion but she was too far gone to try any of those. Her treacherous mind just wouldn’t let her say the words that needed to be said.
The best she could manage were a couple of spells of clarity, spells that would keep her mind focused instead of thinking about HER. She hoped they would work. They’d better, she told herself. They were her only hope.
On the drive over, she found herself speeding as if she were in a hurry to get where she was going. She shook her head every time it happened and then she’d back her foot off of the accelerator. Problem was, it kept happening, and she knew why.
She pulled into the parking lot of run-down apartment building. She could feel the urge to rush up to the apartment but she could feel herself being able to control it. She managed to walk almost sedately across the parking lot and she counted that as a very good sign. She was more in control of herself than she had been before and that was a good thing.
She could hear the sound of a stereo blaring away inside even before she reached the apartment door. The paint on the door was faded and the curtains looked like they’d seen better days. Monica knocked on the door but got no answer. A second knock produced the same result. It was only when she banged on the door that the stereo was suddenly shut off.
This was it, Monica thought. This was it. She was finally going to meet her tormentor.
Whatever she might have been expecting, it wasn’t what she saw when the door opened. Jodie Davies stood barely five feet tall. She had honey, blond hair and a freckled face, and her body was pleasantly plump and curvy. She wore a little half-top and daisy duke shorts. In short, she looked like little more than what she was, a teenaged girl fresh out of high school and out on her own for the very first time.
“Can I help you,” the girl asked.
“Are you Jodie Davies,” Monica asked even though she was sure she already knew the answer.
“That’s me.”
“We, um, we need to talk.”
The girl looked at the other woman blankly. “And you are?”
“My name’s Monica Malloy.”
It took the girl a couple of seconds to realize the import of that. “You mean,” and here she stopped to look around and her voice lowered, “you mean, like, from the council of witches.”
“That’s the one.”
“Oh wow. I mean, hey, why are you here.”
“I came to see you.”
“Me,” the girl squawked. “Why did you come to see me?”
“You tried to cast a spell on me.”
“Oh wow. I mean, hey, we didn’t mean any harm by it but me and a couple of my girlfriends, we were just, you know, we were just clowning around. Really.”
“Relax. I’m not here to give you a hard time about it. I just want to know what you did.”
“Well, it was a Saturday night, and me and my girlfriends, we’re all in the witches college, don’t you know, but me and my girlfriends, we’re having some drinks and we’re getting kind of wasted and Cindy says we should try out some spells.”
“Try out some spells?”
“You know, the ones in the back of the book, the ones first years aren’t even supposed to try, but Cindy says we should try them, so we do.”
“Okay.”
“So I see this really cool compulsion spell and I’m like I want to try this but then I’m not sure who I should try it on and that’s when Cindy suggests trying it out on you, and I’m like why would I want to do that, and Cindy’s like it won’t do anything because we don’t have enough experience and you’d have protections anyway, so she said it would be okay.”
“Wait a minute. You mean you guys were drunk when you did this?”
“Yeah. We were just having some fun.”
Monica stopped herself. Easy, she told herself. Easy. Don’t get the girl upset because the way things were going, that might be just enough to push her over the edge. “I’m not upset,” she told the girl. “Really, I’m not.”
The girl seemed to relax at that.
“I just need to know something. I need to know how you did it.”
“Did what? I don’t understand.”
“How did you do this to me?”
“Do what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The spell of compulsion. How did you do this?”
“It was just a joke. Cindy said it wouldn’t work anyway.”
Monica fought back the urge to moan but just being in Jodie’s presence was so ... so intoxicating. The desire to give in was at a fever pitch. The image came unbidden to her mind, of her pulling down Jodie’s shorts and then her panties, of her sliding in between Jodie’s thighs, of her slipping her tongue into her mistress’s pussy. Monica couldn’t help but pant just a little. “I ... I need you to do something for me.”
“What?”
No wait. That didn’t sound right. Jodie didn’t do things for her. She did things for Jodie and she was glad to do them. She wanted to do them. She needed to do them.
“What do you need me to do,” Jodie asked.
Monica knew she was hanging by a thread. It would be so easy to give in, to let this girl own her, to let herself become her possession. She wanted it. She wanted it so very badly.
“What do you need me to do,” Jodie asked again.
“I need you to ... to—”
“Yes?”
“I need you to own me.” It was so good to give in to what she was destined to be. “I need you to own me. I need you to use me. I need you to let me serve you. Please. Please. I need you to own me.”
Monica dropped to her knees. It was the only thing she could think of to do. “Please,” she begged. “Please let me please you.”
Jodie finally got it. “Are you saying the spell actually worked?”
“Yes,” Monica moaned and a smile slowly spread across the teen’s lips but Monica didn’t care. She’d finally let herself become ensnared by her beautiful mistress. It was in fact, the first day of the rest of her life.