Chapter 3: Rising Action
As 6 am approached, along with Abigail’s alarm, she was awoken by something else, something unexpected. Though she’d denied herself the humiliation of release several times in the last day, she thought she was staying strong, not giving in to her newfound, filthy urges.
But unbeknownst to her, as she finally fell asleep at 4:30 am, she began to experience dreams, sexy, humiliating dreams. She imagined herself as the stars of the porn she’d been forced to watch, as a human toilet, cleaning an entire public bathroom with her tongue, or being made to be a sex slave, specifically Luke’s sex slave. She would have been embarrassed enough by these dreams but it was made even worse when she was awoken prior to her alarm by a thundering release, the orgasm she’d been holding off since the morning before. She woke with a gasp, her body still shaking, her heart pounding, and her panties soaked. She stared up at her ceiling, her mind racing as she tried to process what had just happened.
"Fuck," she whispered, her voice hoarse with sleep and arousal. She felt a mix of humiliation and defeat wash over her. She couldn't even control her body in her dreams, it seemed.
She buried her face in her pillow, trying to muffle the groan of frustration that escaped her lips. She didn't want Tilly to hear her, didn't want her friend to know just how out of control she was.
But the dream had been so vivid, so real, that she couldn't shake the feeling of shame and humiliation that still clung to her.
She lay there for a moment, her breath gradually returning to normal, her heartbeat slowing down. She could still feel the remnants of her orgasm pulsing through her, the sensation lingering like a ghostly afterimage. She knew she should get up, should get ready for the day ahead, but the exhaustion that had plagued her since the spell took hold was still present, still weighing heavily on her.
With a sigh, she forced herself out of bed, her limbs heavy and her movements sluggish.
She made her way to the bathroom, her steps slow and unsteady. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and paused, her eyes widening in surprise.
She looked like she had been run over by a truck. Her hair was a tangled mess, her eyes were puffy and red, and her skin was pale and drawn. She looked like she had been crying, like she had been through an emotional wringer.
She shook her head, disgusted with herself. She didn't have time to dwell on her appearance, though. She needed to get ready for her meeting with Janna and class, needed to put on a brave face and act like everything was normal.
Knowing what was almost certainly going to happen as soon as she got to the bathroom, she decided to plan to shower after she relieved her bladder. If she was going to end up fucking her hand while licking the toilet and the bathroom floor, she might as well do it before her shower, rather than after, she figured, uncomfortable with how quickly she’d accepted this as an inevitable. With a deep breath, she opened the bathroom door and stepped inside. As if on cue, the humiliation started immediately, her body flooding with warmth and arousal, her pussy clenching in anticipation.
“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, her hands reaching for the zipper of her pants. She hated this, hated how she was no longer in control of her own body. She unzipped her pants and pushed them down, along with her panties, feeling the rush of air against her wet skin.
She stepped out of them and moved towards the toilet, her body already heating up with desire. She knew what was coming, knew what she was going to do, and it both repulsed and aroused her.
As she sat down on the toilet seat, she felt the familiar sensation of shame and embarrassment wash over her. She hated this, hated that she was being forced to do these things, to act out these perverse fantasies. But at the same time, she couldn't deny the pleasure she was feeling, the intense arousal that was coursing through her veins.
She knew that her body was responding to the humiliation, to the degradation that was being inflicted upon her.
She bit her lip, trying to stifle the moan that was threatening to escape her. She didn't want Tilly to hear her, didn't want her friend to know what was happening to her. But she couldn't hold it back, couldn't contain the pleasure that was building inside her.
As she leaned down towards the toilet, her body was already trembling with anticipation. She knew what was coming, knew what she was about to do. She was going to lick the toilet, just like in her dreams.
She was going to clean it with her tongue, just like she had seen in the porn videos. But her body was already craving it, already aching for the release that she knew was coming.
Abigail let out a soft moan as she leaned down, her tongue darting out to lick the cool porcelain. She felt a shiver run down her spine as she tasted the faint remnants of cleaning chemicals. It was disgusting, degrading, but it was also incredibly arousing.
Abigail's body was on fire with desire, her pussy throbbing with need. She knew she shouldn't be enjoying this, knew that she should be fighting it, but her body was in control now, and it wanted this.
She leaned further down, her tongue tracing the curve of the toilet bowl, her hand slipping between her legs to cup her aching pussy. She let out a soft whimper, her body trembling with pleasure as her fingers began to rub slow, circular motions against her clit.
As she continued to lick the toilet, she couldn't help but imagine Luke standing over her, watching her with amusement in his eyes.
The thought sent a shock of humiliation through her, but it also sent a wave of pleasure crashing over her. She was his little slut, his own personal toilet, and she was loving every degrading moment of it.
She could feel her orgasm building, her body tensing as she rubbed her clit harder, her tongue lapping at the toilet bowl with more fervor. She was close, so close to the edge, and she knew she wouldn't be able to hold back much longer.
She could feel the heat building between her legs, the tension coiling in her belly like a spring ready to snap. She knew she should be ashamed, should be fighting this, but all she could think about was the pleasure, the release that was just within reach.
Suddenly, the sound of her phone buzzing on the bathroom counter snapped her out of her daze. She jerked her head up, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she looked at the source of the interruption. It was Janna, responding to her message from earlier.
She stumbled to her feet, her legs shaking with the effort to stand, and grabbed her phone, her heart pounding in her chest.
She could still feel the heat between her legs, the ache that was begging to be satisfied, but she knew she had to answer Janna's message, had to keep up with her plan.
Janna: Hey, sorry it took me so long to respond. Coffee at The Grind at 7 AM works for me. See you then!
Abigail's thumbs flew over the screen, her mind racing.
Abigail: No problem, thanks for getting back to me so quickly. See you at 7.
She hit send and sighed, her body still trembling with unfulfilled desire.
She knew she should finish what she started, should give her body the release it so desperately craved. But she also knew she couldn't afford to be late for her meeting with Janna. She had to get a handle on this situation, and fast.
With a deep breath, she forced herself to flush the toilet, trying to ignore the throbbing ache between her legs. She hoped into the shower, trying to make herself presentable. She couldn't afford to let anyone know what was happening to her, not until she had a plan in place to fix it.
She quickly washed her hair and body, trying to scrub away the lingering humiliation and shame. As she stepped out of the shower, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked exhausted, her eyes hollow and her skin pale. She knew she needed to do something, anything, to take her mind off of her body's betrayal.
She quickly got dressed, opting for a pair of skinny jeans and an oversized sweater. She threw her hair up into a messy bun and applied a minimal amount of makeup, trying to conceal the circles under her eyes. She didn't want anyone to suspect that anything was wrong, not until she had a handle on the situation.
She slipped on her favorite polka-dot rain boots and grabbed her backpack, careful to avoid any reflection of herself in the mirror as she left her room.
As Abigail made her way down the hall, she could hear the sound of voices coming from the communal kitchen. She hesitated for a moment, not wanting to encounter anyone before she had a chance to compose herself. But she knew she couldn't hide forever, so she took a deep breath and pushed open the door.
The kitchen was filled with the usual morning chatter, the smell of coffee and toast filling the air. Abigail spotted Tilly by the coffee maker, already pouring herself a cup.
She was grateful for the distraction, hoping it would give her some much-needed time to compose herself before their meeting with Janna.
"Morning, Tilly," Abigail said, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. She didn't want her friend to suspect anything was amiss.
Tilly turned around, a smile spreading across her face. "Hey, Abby! You're up early. I thought you'd be sleeping in after last night."
Abigail forced a laugh, waving her hand dismissively. "Nah, I couldn't sleep. Too much on my mind, you know?
So, I figured I might as well get an early start on the day," Abigail said, trying to keep her voice light and casual. She walked over to the coffee maker and poured herself a cup, taking a sip and grimacing slightly at the bitterness.
Tilly raised an eyebrow, her eyes scanning Abigail's face. "Did you set up a meeting with Janna? I know that was a high priority on your day’s plans.” Tilly asked, careful not to reveal any of their current predicament to their sorority sisters in the kitchen with them. Abigail nodded, trying to keep her voice low and casual. "Yeah, we're meeting at The Grind at 7 AM. I think she might have some helpful insights into the topic we're researching."
Tilly's eyes widened slightly, but she quickly nodded, understanding Abigail's need for discretion. "That's great, Abby. I'm really hoping Janna can help us figure something out."
Abigail took another sip of her coffee, her stomach churning slightly at the bitter taste. She knew she needed to eat something, but the thought of food made her feel nauseous. It was with a throb of pleasure between her legs that she realized the bitterness of the coffee was reminding her of the taste of the toilet, of chemicals and piss. She quickly set her cup down on the counter, trying to push the thought away. She couldn’t handle these urges here, in public. Not with her sorority sisters around.
“Hey, are you okay, Abby?” Tilly asked, her concern evident as she approached her friend, her coffee cup in hand. “You look a little… off.”
Abigail forced a smile, waving her hand dismissively. “No, I’m fine, really. Just, uh, stressed with our current projects, you know?” she said, her voice straining to maintain a light, casual tone.
“I just need to grab some breakfast and I’ll be good to go.”
Tilly studied her for a moment longer, her brow furrowed in concern, before nodding and turning back to the coffee maker. “Okay, well, I grabbed some bagels earlier. Help yourself.”
Abigail nodded and moved toward the counter where the bagels were laid out, her mind racing. She couldn’t afford to separate herself from Tilly completely, not if she wanted to maintain the illusion that everything was normal. But at the same time, she needed a moment alone, a chance to compose herself before their meeting with Janna.
She couldn't go to The Grind and have a rational conversation if she was still reeling from the humiliation she had just experienced.
"Hey, Tilly, do you mind if I take off for a bit? I just remembered something I need to do before our meeting," Abigail said, trying to sound as casual as possible. She saw the concern in Tilly's eyes, but she also saw the understanding.
"Of course not, Abby. You go do what you need to do. I'll see you at The Grind at 7," Tilly replied, giving her a small smile.
"Good luck with whatever it is you have to do."
Abigail nodded, grabbed a bagel and a bottle of water, and hurried out of the kitchen. She needed to get out of there, away from prying eyes and concerned friends. She had to be alone, to have a moment to gather her thoughts and get her body under control.
As she rushed down the hallway, she could feel the weight of her backpack digging into her shoulders. She paused for a moment, considering leaving it behind, but she knew she needed the items inside for her meeting with Janna. She couldn't risk forgetting anything important.
Taking a deep breath, she readjusted the straps of her backpack and continued down the hall, her boots echoing against the hardwood floor. She turned a corner and rushed towards the stairwell, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew she couldn't go back to her dorm room, not with the constant humiliation that awaited her there. She needed a quiet, secluded place to clear her mind and regain control of her body.
Her mind raced as she remembered the hidden nook she had discovered during her freshman year. It was a small alcove on the fourth floor, tucked away behind a maintenance closet.
She had stumbled upon it by accident one day while exploring the building, and it had become a secret sanctuary of sorts. She had never told anyone about it, not even Tilly. It was her own little retreat, a place where she could go to escape the chaos and drama of dorm life.
Abigail took the stairs two at a time, her breath coming in quick gasps as she hurried towards the fourth floor. She rounded the corner and made her way down the long, empty hallway, her footsteps echoing off the walls. She could see the maintenance closet up ahead, its door slightly ajar.
She slipped inside, her heart pounding in her chest as she made her way to the hidden alcove. The dim light from the open door illuminated her path, casting long shadows that danced and flickered with every step.
As she rounded the corner, the alcove came into view. It was just as she remembered it, a small, cozy nook with a cushioned bench and a single, dimly lit lamp. She let out a sigh of relief as she sank down onto the bench, her body aching with exhaustion.
She took a moment to catch her breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to regain control of her body.
She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the wall as she took several deep, calming breaths. The alcove was quiet, the only sound the muffled hum of the dorm's heating system and the distant chiming of the campus clock tower.
Abigail opened her eyes and looked around the small space, taking comfort in the familiar surroundings. She had spent many afternoons here, holed up with a good book or a sketchpad, looking for a moment's peace and quiet. It was a sanctuary, a place where she could be alone with her thoughts and escape the constant noise and chaos of dorm life.
She took another deep breath, trying to center herself and rid her mind of the lingering humiliation that still clung to her like a shadow.
She reached into her backpack and pulled out a small, worn notebook. She flipped through the pages, her fingers tracing the lines and sketches that filled the pages. She used to spend hours here, drawing and doodling, losing herself in the act of creation. But lately, she hadn't found the inspiration or the time to indulge in her art.
She sighed, closing the notebook and setting it down on the bench next to her. Her phone buzzed with a text and she glanced at it. An unknown number. Not particularly odd given Abigail’s popularity and how many people needed to reach out to her at a given time, but this one caught her eye.
It was a photo attachment of a book page, the very page she’d been needing from Luke’s spell book, detailing Lover’s Lament. It contained a simple, teasing message.
Unknown number: I figured I’d at least be nice and give you a chance. Still *so* very curious as to how this backfired for you. Good luck translating the ancient Aramaic. ;)
Abigail stared at the text, her heart pounding in her chest. She recognized the handwriting immediately - it was Luke's. How had he gotten her number? And how had he known that she needed that particular page from his spell book?
She felt a surge of anger and humiliation, her fingers clenching into fists. She had no doubt that the page had been sent to her as a taunt, a reminder of her current predicament. She wanted to throw her phone across the room, to scream and shout and tear into someone - anyone - for putting her in this position.
But she knew that wouldn't solve anything.
Instead, she took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. Anger wouldn't get her anywhere, and she needed to focus on the task at hand. She needed to translate that page and find a way out of this mess.
She quickly opened the attachment, her eyes scanning the ancient text. When she’d initially read the incantation, she’d presumed it was something old, maybe Latin or something so Aramaic made sense. But she was a communication and marketing major, she didn’t know anything about translating ancient texts, certainly not life-ruining magical ones. She sighed, her heart pounding as she realized the gravity of the situation. She couldn't just ignore this, she had to find a way out of this mess.
She looked at her watch and curse under her breath. She only had 30 minutes before her meeting with Janna. She had to do something, anything, to take her mind off of her body's betrayal.
She quickly typed out a text to Tilly, asking her to meet her at The Grind but to come alone.
If anyone else was with her, she might not be able to control herself. She hit send, hoping Tilly would understand and keep her secret safe.
Abigail's mind raced as she thought about who she could ask for help with the translation. She couldn't exactly walk into a linguistics course and ask the professor to translate an ancient spell book for her. She needed someone discreet, someone she could trust.
She figured if nothing else, the spell did fit into the topic she’d be discussing with Janna at 7, so she could certainly ask her about it. If anyone else was going to understand the weirdness of ancient magic, it would be Janna. But Janna was an expert in folklore and mythology, not Aramaic translation, so Abby would still need to find someone else to do the actual translation.
Just as she typed out Janna’s contact information into the unknown number, her phone buzzed again with another message.
Unknown number: I’ve retranslated it a few different times, played around with pronunciation errors I could see you making. If you did what I think you did, this is just about the most hilarious thing I could imagine. Not the sort of spell I’d be looking to cast but I’m sure you’re getting used to the benefits of it
Abigail stared at her phone, a frown creasing her brow.
She knew Luke was taunting her, but she also couldn’t shake the feeling that he was almost… proud of himself for this. As if casting a spell that left her a humiliated, horny mess was some sort of achievement.
She ground her teeth together, her fingers clenched around her phone. She wanted to throw it against the wall, to scream and shout and demand that he take this curse off of her. But she knew that wouldn’t help anything. She needed to stay calm, to think rationally.
She took a deep breath and typed out a response, her fingers trembling with anger and frustration.
Abigail: Just go ahead and laugh while you can, Luke.
Because when I figure out how to break this spell, you'll be the one laughing on the other side of your face.
She hit send, her heart racing and her cheeks flushed with anger. She couldn't believe he had the nerve to taunt her like this. She wanted to tear him apart, to make him feel even a fraction of the humiliation she was currently experiencing.
To her surprise, his response came almost instantly.
Unknown number: Oh, Abby, always so feisty. I love it. Besides, if you hadn't been such a bitch to me, maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation. Remember, you cast the spell, not me. If I’d been the one humiliated, wandering around like a sappy, simpering mess after that girl Anna, you’d be tickled pink. You should just feel lucky the backfire only hit you and not also Tilly, otherwise you’d *really* be in this together, if you know what I mean.
Abigail's hands shook as she read Luke's words, her anger boiling over inside her. She was tempted to throw her phone, to scream and shout and let all of her frustration and humiliation out. Instead, she took a deep breath and forced herself to respond calmly.
Abigail: This isn't over, Luke. I will find a way out of this, and when I do, you'll regret ever messing with me.
She hit send and immediately regretted it. He was right, as much as she hated to admit it. She and Tilly had spend many hours amusing themselves by tormenting little loser Luke. It was only know that their most recent prank came back to bite her that she had any remorse, had faced any sort of consequences. It really was their fault. But that didn’t mean he could be such a smug dick to her about it.
Abigail couldn't believe how nonchalant he was about the whole situation. It was his magic that had done this, turned her into some sort of sexual deviant, and he seemed to think it was all some big joke. He should take some responsibility for leaving an apparently very real spell book somewhere Tilly could just steal it.
She wanted to scream, to throw something, to make him understand just how much he had hurt her. She had to stay calm, to think rationally, to find a way out of this mess.
But first, she needed to get to The Grind and meet with Janna. She couldn't afford to be late, not with everything that was at stake.
Taking another deep breath, Abigail shoved her phone back into her pocket and made her way back towards the stairwell. The alcove had given her a moment of respite, but it hadn't done anything to ease the ache between her legs or the humiliation that still clung to her like a second skin.
As she made her way down the stairs, her mind raced with possibilities. She needed to find someone who could translate the spell, someone she could trust with this secret. But who? She couldn't exactly ask around campus for help with an ancient Aramaic translation, not without raising some serious eyebrows. If Janna couldn’t help her, maybe Dr. Alvarez could. After that though, she was stumped.
She got to The Grind at the same time as Tilly, 15 minutes before they were going to meet Janna. Abigail ordered a dirty chai latte with caramel, wanting bitterness to be the last flavor she was thinking of after the connection she’d drawn to the flavor earlier this morning.
She grabbed their usual spot as Tilly finished getting her own latte, a cozy booth in the corner, tucked away enough to be private but no so much that you felt disconnected. Abigail breathed a sigh of relief as Tilly sat down across from her, her eyes filled with concern.
“You okay, Abby? You look like you’ve been through the wringer,” Tilly said, her voice low and quiet.
Abigail forced a smile, “Just tired, you know? It’s been a long night and I’m not exactly looking forward to our meeting with Janna.”
Tilly nodded, her eyes lingering on Abigail’s face. “You sure you’re okay? After what you told me last night… listen, I get that you don’t want to talk about that sort of thing. But I’m your best friend, I’m totally here for you. Besides, it’s kind of my fault you’re in this position to begin with, after all, I’m the one who stole Luke’s spell book and suggested we use it to prank him.” She said quietly, ensuring no one heard her discussion. "Tilly, I-"
Tilly shook her head, her expression softening. "Abby, you don't have to explain. I saw the look on your face when you talked about whatever you're going through. And it's alright if you don't want to talk about it right now. But you know I'm here for you, right? Always."
Abigail felt a lump form in her throat as her eyes welled up with tears. She quickly blinked them back, not wanting to give in to the emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. "I know, Tilly. I appreciate that. Not a lot of people would be there for their friends during something weird like this. You’re the best best friend I could ask for, Tills.” Abigail whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She quickly looked around to make sure no one was within earshot, the truth of her situation still too raw and embarrassing to share with anyone besides her closest confidante. “And yeah, I’m… I’m not okay. But I can’t talk about it right now. Janna will be here any minute, and I need to keep up appearances. You understand, right?”
Tilly nodded, her eyes filled with concern. “Of course, Abby. I’ll be here for you whenever you’re ready to talk.
And hey, maybe Janna will have some insights into what’s going on. She’s always been into that weird folklore stuff,” Tilly said, giving her friend a reassuring smile.
Abigail nodded, grateful for Tilly’s support but also anxiously anticipating Janna’s arrival. She hoped Janna could shed some light on the situation, even if it was just to tell her she was crazy and this was all just a figment of her imagination.
As they waited for Janna, Abigail took a sip of her latte, the sweet flavor grounding her and helping her to focus.
She needed to keep her mind off of the humiliation that still clung to her like a second skin, the constant ache between her legs that seemed to be growing stronger by the minute.
She looked up as the bell above the door chimed, announcing Janna's arrival. Janna spotted them in their usual booth and made her way over, a wide smile on her face.
"Hey, ladies," she said, sliding into the booth next to Tilly. "Sorry I'm late, I got caught up in some research."
Abigail forced a smile, trying to keep her voice light and casual. "No problem, Janna.
Thanks for making the time to meet with us," Abigail said, her voice strained as she tried to keep up the facade of normalcy.
Janna raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two friends. "Everything okay? You both seem a little... off."
Tilly quickly jumped in, trying to deflect the attention off of Abigail. "Oh, we're just stressed about this project, you know? Trying to figure out a good angle for our event proposal."
Janna nodded, her eyes lingering on Abigail for a moment longer before she turned her attention to the stack of papers in her hands.
"Well, I have some interesting stuff here that might help with that. I've been looking into some local folklore and urban legends, and I think I've found something that might be relevant."
She handed the papers to Abigail, who took them with a forced smile. "Thanks, Janna. I'll definitely take a look at this. "
As Janna started to talk about the research she'd done, Abigail tried to focus on what she was saying, but her mind was racing.
“By the way, Janna, Tilly and I stumbled upon this one folklore piece that intrigued us but we just can’t find a good translation for it. Something said it was in Ancient Aramaic. I know that’s not exactly your specialty but I also know you like languages and puzzles so I figured it’d be worth a shot to ask.” Abigail said, keeping her cool as she showed Janna the photo of Lover’s Lament. "We were hoping you might be able to help with the translation?"
Janna took the phone, her eyebrows furrowing as she examined the text. "Ancient Aramaic, huh? Not my area of expertise, but… oh! Lover’s Lament! I did a project on this one last spring with the department. You’re totally in luck, I can send you my notes from the translations we did.” She said smiling eagerly. “It’s one of my favorite pieces from the era. The translation is super pretty and sweet. A lot of scholars think it wasn’t meant to really be a spell but more like a love poem. It’s really cute.” Janna continued, expanding upon the spell’s history. “It’s supposed to bind together lovers from different cultures, ones whose families find shame in their love. But some people began trying to use it for the opposite purpose, to make their wayward friends and family members fall for someone within their own community or to punish enemies with less than ideal partnerships. It’s really sad actually, some people think it’s cursed now, because so many people used it maliciously or selfishly.” She said with a soft, wistful look in her eyes. “I’ve always thought it was so romantic, the idea of two lovers defying their families and cultures to be together. But it’s also tragic, you know? The fact that people would take something so beautiful and use it for such awful purposes.”
Abigail nodded, trying to look interested in the conversation while her mind raced with possibilities. She was so lucky that Janna not only could translate the piece but also had already dedicated quite a lot of time to the work. It might take some time to dig through all of her notes but it was the closest she’d felt so far. She had to admit though, she felt a little embarrassed to be one of the people who had used the spell for malicious purposes, exactly as Janna had said people had done. She'd used it to humiliate and embarrass Luke, not out of any genuine romantic feelings, but because she was a bully. And now, she was the one paying the price.
"That's really interesting, Janna," Abigail said, trying to keep her voice casual. "I'll definitely take a look at your notes. Thanks for sharing."
Janna nodded, handing the phone back to Abigail. "No problem, I'm glad I could help. I'll send you the notes later today, okay?"
Abigail forced a smile, nodding her thanks.
"That would be great, Janna. I really appreciate it."
Janna leaned back in the booth, sipping her coffee. "So, what else is on your agenda today? Besides deciphering ancient love poems, of course."
Abigail shrugged, trying to keep her voice casual. "Not much, really. Just some errands, a little bit of studying. The usual."
Janna raised an eyebrow. "You sure? You seem a little… distracted. Everything okay?"
Abigail waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, I'm just tired, that's all.
You know, the usual college student stuff," Abigail said with a forced laugh, trying to deflect Janna's concern. She didn't want to delve into her current predicament, not with Janna looking at her like she was a puzzle that needed solving.
Janna nodded, but Abigail could see the skepticism in her eyes. "Well, if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here. You know that, right?"
Abigail smiled gratefully.
"I know, thanks, Janna. She took another sip of her latte, trying to relax and focus on the conversation. She knew she had to act normal, had to keep up the facade that everything was fine, even if that was the last thing she felt.
Janna studied her for a moment longer before turning her attention back to the stack of papers in front of her. "I don’t have physical copies of my notes on Lover’s Lament but…” she said, pulling up documents on her laptop. “There! I just sent them over to your email. Is there anything else other than what I’ve mentioned that would be helpful? I don’t want to throw too much at you, I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea!” Janna said with a genuine smile, a sign of her appreciation that Tilly and Abigail asked for her help.
“I really appreciate it, Janna. I think the notes you sent on the Lament and everything else you mentioned have us in a good spot! Thank you so much!” Abigail said, looking forward to delving into the notes Janna sent, to see if there was anything useful in there. Even though Luke had sent the photo presumably as a taunt, it had worked out in Abigail’s favor. Janna had provided her with the exact translation she needed. She knew she owed Luke some sort of thanks, but the thought of acknowledging her debt made her skin crawl.
After Janna left, Abigail and Tilly sat in silence, sipping their lattes and staring out the window. The campus was bustling with activity, students rushing to classes and meetings, oblivious to the personal crisis unfolding in the booth behind the large, tinted windows.
Abigail broke the silence first, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can't believe we're in this mess, Tilly.
I mean, I knew we'd gone too far with Luke, but I never thought... I never thought it would do something like this to me," Abigail whispered, her eyes fixed on the swirling patterns in her latte.
Tilly reached across the table and placed a gentle hand on Abigail's arm. "Abby, I'm so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I swear, I didn't know the book was... well, you know, real. I just thought it was a silly little prank."
Abigail looked up at her friend, her eyes filled with frustration and anger.
I'm not blaming you, okay? This is my fault as much as it's yours. We both knew we were being assholes, and now we're paying the price," Abigail said, her voice barely above a whisper. She knew she couldn't let her anger and frustration boil over, not with so many people around. She needed to stay calm, to focus on finding a solution to her problem.
Tilly nodded, her eyes filled with remorse. "I just feel so guilty, Abby. I never wanted any of this to happen. And now, I don't know what to do.
I'm so sorry, Abby."
Abigail sighed, leaning back in the booth. We both are. But dwelling on it isn't going to solve anything. We need to figure out how to fix this mess." She took a sip of her latte, her eyes scanning the crowded coffee shop.
"So, what's the plan?" Tilly asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Abigail looked down at the translation notes Janna had sent. "First, we need to figure out how to reverse this spell.
Janna mentioned that a lot of people think Lover’s Lament is cursed now, that it's brought nothing but heartache and pain. Maybe there's a way to reverse the curse, if that's what this even is," Abigail suggested, her eyes flicking between the notes in her hands and Tilly’s worried expression.
Tilly nodded, her eyes wide with concern. "Okay, so how do we figure that out? We can't exactly Google 'how to reverse cursed love spell.'"
Abigail chuckled, a weak attempt to relieve the heaviness in her chest. As they pondered their next move, the bell on the coffee shop’s door rang, and in walked in their current adversary, Luke. He didn’t notice them at first, tucked away as they were in the far corner. He was holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a large bag of books in the other, his attention focused on shuffling through his wallet to pay for his drink.
Abigail's heart leapt into her throat as she watched him approach the counter. She had hoped to avoid running into him today, especially after their heated text exchange.
"Luke!" Tilly suddenly called out, waving him over. Abigail shot her a disbelieving look, but Tilly just shrugged and mouthed, "We need his help."
Reluctantly, Abigail nodded, knowing her friend was right.
They needed all the help they could get, and Luke was apparently intimately familiar with the spell that had them in this mess. She just had to keep her anger and humiliation in check, at least until they had the information they needed.
Luke looked up at the sound of his name, a smile spreading across his face as he spotted Tilly. "Hey, Tilly. What's up? Haven't seen you around campus much lately. You know, aside from when you snuck into my dorm room."
Luke said, his tone playful but with an underlying edge that hinted at the tension between them.
"Yeah, well, I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to..." Tilly trailed off, glancing at Abigail who was staring daggers at Luke.
Abigail forced herself to smile, trying to keep her voice casual. "Hey, Luke. Fancy seeing you here."
Luke glanced at Abigail, his eyes lingering on hers for a moment before he looked away. "Yeah, I was just grabbing some coffee.
Couldn't resist the siren call of caffeine," Luke said, his voice laced with sarcasm. He set his bag down on the table and pulled out a chair, sitting down across from Abigail and Tilly. "So, what's up? You two look like you've seen a ghost or something."
Abigail gritted her teeth, trying to keep her composure. "Just... working on a project. You know, the usual college stuff." She forced a laugh, trying to keep the conversation casual.
Luke raised an eyebrow, not buying her act for a second. "Right.
Luke said, with a hint of skepticism in his voice. "Well, I'm actually here because I was hoping to talk to you, Abigail." He looked directly at her, his gaze steady and unyielding.
Abigail felt a jolt of unease, but she forced a smile to maintain her facade. "Oh, really? What about?" She asked, trying to keep her voice light and unconcerned.
"I was hoping we could talk about... our little misunderstanding.
You know, the one where you tried to humiliate me with a spell from my book and ended up humiliating yourself instead." Luke said, his tone calm and collected, but his eyes held a glint of amusement and something darker, something like satisfaction.
Abigail's heart pounded in her chest as she met his gaze, her fingernails digging into her palms underneath the table. She couldn't let him see how much he was getting to her, how much his words were affecting her.
"Luke, I-" she started, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand.
"Don't bother denying it.
I know it was you and Tilly who broke into my dorm and stole my spell book," Luke said, his voice soft but firm. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving Abigail's face. "And I know that you cast a spell from it, thinking it would humiliate me. Only it backfired, didn't it?"
Abigail felt her cheeks burn with anger and embarrassment. She clenched her fists beneath the table, dug her nails into her palms to keep from screaming at him. "I don't know what you're talking about, Luke.
We don't even know each other well enough for you to be making such accusations," Abigail responded, trying to keep her voice steady and calm. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, her body aching to lash out at him, to make him pay for the humiliation and suffering he'd inflicted upon her.
Luke chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down Abigail's spine. "You don't have to pretend with me, Abigail. I know it was you, and I know why you did it. You wanted to humiliate me, to make me suffer for enjoying things that you don't understand.
But it's funny how things work out sometimes, isn't it? Now you're the one suffering, the one paying the price for your actions." Luke's eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and malice, and Abigail could feel the heat of her embarrassment and anger rising within her.
Tilly, sensing the tension, quickly intervened, "Luke, come on, you know that's not what we wanted. We just... we were messing around and things got out of hand."
Luke turned his gaze to Tilly. “Do you think that makes it better, Tilly? Not only did you steal from me, break into my room twice, and try to play a prank on me, one that at the very least made a mess or could have had potentially life ruining consequences, but you both have also spent the last three years tormenting me, for reasons I frankly cannot comprehend. Does the fact that you thought the thing you took from me was just ‘silly’ make it any better?” He asked, his tone all edge now. “It’s like you stole what you thought was a toy gun but then you shot yourself in the foot with it. It’s not really my problem and it’s certainly not my fault.” Luke’s words sent a jolt of anger through Abigail.
“You’re such an asshole, Luke. You can’t just sit there and act all high and mighty while you know that I’m... I’m...” She stumbled over her words, the humiliation of her current state rising up within her like a tide.
Luke raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “You’re what, Abigail? Say it. Own it.”
Abigail’s cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and mortification. She took a deep breath, trying to regain control of her emotions.
"I'm... I'm suffering, okay? Because of that stupid spell. I cast it on you, and now... now I'm the one paying the price. I can't control myself, Luke. I can't stop thinking about... about things I never wanted to think about. I'm a mess, and it's all because of you and your stupid spell book."
The color drained from Luke's face, his expression softening slightly. He looked at Abigail, his eyes filled with a mix of surprise and concern. "Abigail, wh- what did you do? Lover’s Lament isn’t supposed to have a big capacity to backfire. I assumed you were just dealing with the embarrassing dreams I’d read about, nothing more than that. What is happening to you?” Luke said, dropping his voice to a whisper. “What is *really* going on with you?” Luke asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. He reached out, his hand hovering near Abigail's before he seemed to remember himself and pulled back. “You can’t just say something like that and leave me hanging. Not after everything that’s happened.”
Abigail's anger dissipated slightly at the genuine worry in his voice. She looked down at the table, her fingers tracing the grain of the wood. “I don’t know how to explain it, Luke. I cast the spell on you, and now… now I’m the one stuck with the consequences.”
Luke leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “What consequences?
Abigail, you need to tell me exactly what’s happening to you. I can’t help if you keep things vague,” Luke said, his voice soft yet firm. He seemed genuinely concerned, and Abigail found herself looking into his eyes, searching for the truth on his face.
She took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain her current predicament. “Ever since I cast that spell, I’ve been… different. I can’t control my thoughts or my body. I’m constantly aroused, and the only thing that makes me feel better is…” she trailed off, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks.
She couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud, to admit to him just how depraved she’d become.
Luke’s eyes widened in understanding, and he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “Oh, Abigail. I didn’t think… I didn’t realize it would affect you like that.” The concern in his voice was genuine, and Abigail found herself wanting to believe him.
“So, you admit it was your fault then?” Tilly interjected, her voice sharp. “You knew what that book could do, and you let us steal it anyway. You could have stopped us, but you didn’t.
You let us take it, knowing exactly what it was capable of,” Tilly said accusingly, her hands clenched into fists on the table.
Luke’s concern dissipated with Tilly’s accusations. “Do *not* turn this back on me, Tilly. I didn’t even know my book was gone by the time you’d broken in and fucked up your own best friend’s life. This is *so* not my fault.” He stood up from the table, grabbing his things. “This was a mistake. I thought I’d be the good guy, try to help you even though you’ve done nothing to deserve my help. But no, you guys just suck as much as you always have. You can’t even take responsibility for your own actions.” He goes to leave but pauses briefly, turning back to Abigail and narrowing his eyes. “I don’t know how you fucked up or what you did to yourself but honestly, I hope it fucking sucks.” He spun on his heel and left, gone in a huff. Abigail watched him go, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn’t believe he had the audacity to act like this was all her fault. She couldn’t believe he had the nerve to imply that she deserved what was happening to her.
Her anger surged up inside of her, filling her veins with a burning desire to lash out at someone, anyone. She wanted to scream, to shout, to throw something across the room. But she knew that wouldn’t solve anything. She needed to stay calm, to keep her head about her. She needed to find a way out of this mess.
“Abigail?” Tilly said, her voice soft and concerned.
She reached out and placed a hand on Abigail's arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Hey, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Abigail took a deep breath, trying to rein in her emotions. She felt like she was teetering on the edge of a cliff, one wrong move away from plunging into the abyss. She forced a smile, trying to reassure her friend. "I'm fine, Tilly. I just... I can't believe him. Can't believe he would walk away like that.
I mean, I know I deserve some of this, I'm not totally oblivious to that. But to just... just leave me like that?" Abigail's voice shook with a mix of anger and frustration, her eyes welling up with tears.
Tilly sighed, her shoulders slumping as she looked at her best friend. "I'm so sorry, Abby. I had no idea this would happen. I never meant for any of this to go this far.
I know you're hurting, and I hate that I'm the reason for it." Tilly's voice was filled with genuine remorse, and Abigail could see the concern in her friend's eyes.
Abigail sighed, looking down at the table. She knew Tilly meant well, but her words were like salt in an open wound. She felt a tear slip down her cheek, and she quickly brushed it away. She didn't want Tilly to see her crying, didn't want to give her friend anything else to feel guilty about.
"It's not your fault, Tilly.
I mean, yeah, you stole the book, but you didn't know what it was capable of. I'm the one who cast the spell, and I'm the one who's suffering the consequences," Abigail said, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I need to find a way out of this, Tilly. I can't keep living like this. I can't keep feeling like this."
Tilly nodded, her eyes filled with concern. "Okay, so what do we do?