Chapter 5: Friday
The sun was just beginning to set as Luke pushed open the door to his dorm room, his heart still racing from the events of the night before. He flipped on the light, the harsh fluorescent glow casting long shadows across the cluttered space. His room was a typical college dorm, crammed with mismatched furniture and adorned with an eclectic mix of posters and memorabilia, a testament to his love of the paranormal and the mystical.
He dropped his backpack onto his unmade bed, the worn sheets rumpled from his restless night. He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair as he tried to push aside the memories of the previous evening.
He knew he had to focus, had to find a way to fix this mess he was in. He couldn't keep indulging in the power the spell gave him, no matter how much he craved it. He had to find a way to break the enchantment, to free Abigail and Tilly from its influence.
As he unpacked his bag, he noticed a small, leather-bound book tucked among his textbooks. It was the book Tilly had stolen from him, the one that contained the spell that had started all of this. He hadn’t remembered tucking it in this bag, which he did in case Tilly or Abigail had tried to steal it again.
He sighed deeply, tracing his fingers along its spine and pages. It was a *Grimoire*, a book of shadows filled with spells, rituals, and ancient incantations. It was one of his most prized possessions, a gift from his late mentor, who had passed it down to him after years of research and practice.
Luke set the book down on his desk, his mind racing with possibilities and fears. He knew that the answer to breaking this spell might lie within its pages, but he also knew that dabbling in magic was dangerous, especially with something as powerful as this. He needed to tread carefully, to be cautious and deliberate in his approach.
He couldn't afford to make a mistake, not with Abigail and Tilly's dignity hanging in the balance.
Luke opened the *Grimoire*, his eyes scanning the intricate symbols and cryptic words that filled its pages. He began to read, his eyes skipping over the familiar incantations and rituals, searching for anything that might help him break the spell.
The grimoire was smart, enchanted by its past user, knowing what to show its wielder when asked. Luke had learned to respect its wisdom, and its ability to read more into his intents than his own subconscious could. He flipped through the pages, his mind racing as he searched for any hint of a solution.
He narrowed his eyes, focusing on a particular symbol etched into the margins of the page. It was similar to the one he had used to tame the spell, but different in some subtle way. He traced the lines with his finger, his mind working furiously.
Could this be what he was looking for? A way to break the spell completely, rather than merely controlling it? He had to be careful, had to be sure.
Misinterpretation could be fatal, especially when dealing with a magic as powerful and malleable as this.
Luke's hands shook as he gathered the necessary ingredients and materials, his mind a whirlwind of doubt and determination. He couldn't afford to make a mistake, couldn't risk hurting Abigail or Tilly any further. He had to be careful, had to be precise.
He worked quickly, his hands moving automatically as he prepared the ritual site.
He had chosen his dorm room for the privacy and the familiarity of the space, but also because it was imbued with his own energy, which the spell would be able to sense and react to.
This ritual was designed to open up all the elements of a spell, allow you to see every angle of the arcane threads it is woven from, and ideally, how they can be unwound.
As Luke prepared to cast the spell, he felt a warm tug from the spell he had to keep an eye on Abigail, essentially informing him that he was about to watch Abigail’s humiliating ritual once more. He stepped away from his supplies and sat down, nothing to be done until Abby was done, except for watch. He could feel the spell’s pull, the dark tendrils of magic reaching out to him, insisting that he watch and enjoy the show. He knew he should resist, that he shouldn’t give in to the spell’s demands, but the sight of Abigail was hypnotic.
She was bent over her desk, her bare ass on display as her fingers furiously worked her pussy. Her face was contorted with pleasure, her eyes closed as she chased her release. Luke could see the sweat glistening on her skin, could hear the soft, wet sounds of her fingers moving against her flesh.
He felt a surge of heat, a rush of desire that made his body ache with need. He knew he shouldn't be watching, knew that he should look away, but he was powerless to resist. The spell was drawing him in, insisting that he bear witness to Abigail's debasement.
He could feel the dark tendrils of magic wrapping around him, taunting him, daring him to give in to his desires. He knew he should resist, should fight against the spell's influence, but the sight of Abigail was too intoxicating.
Her body was a vision of sinful pleasure, her every movement a testament to the power of the magic that controlled her. He watched, his breath coming in short gasps as he took in the sight before him.
Abigail's body was a canvas of contrasts, her pale skin flushed with heat, her muscles tensing and releasing as she chased her release. Her hair was a tangled mess, falling in wild waves around her shoulders as she tossed her head back in ecstasy. Luke could feel the spell's hold on her, could see the way it writhed and twisted within her, feeding off of her desire and her humiliation.
He knew he shouldn't be enjoying this, shouldn't be reveling in the sight of Abigail's debasement. But the magic was insistent, its dark whispers filling his mind with images of power and control.
He watched, his breath coming in short gasps as Abigail's body convulsed, her fingers moving faster and faster as she sought her release. He could see the moment it hit her, could see the way her body arched and trembled as the orgasm washed over her. A soft moan escaped her lips, a sound of pure pleasure and relief.
Luke watched, his own desire twisted and warped by the spell, as Abigail rode out her orgasm, her body shaking with the force of it.
He felt a pang of guilt, a sense of wrongness that cut through the haze of his arousal. He knew he shouldn't be watching this, shouldn't be feeding off of Abigail's humiliation. But the spell was strong, its tendrils wrapped around him, pulling him deeper into the darkness.
Abigail's body finally stilled, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried to catch her breath. She wrapped a robe around herself, moving quickly towards the bathroom, almost eagerly. She’d woken up horny enough to masturbate as she had but she still knew she was going to debase herself further once she got in there, locking the door behind herself. Luke watched as the bathroom door slammed shut, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum. He knew he shouldn’t be enjoying this, shouldn’t be reveling in Abigail’s debasement, but the magic was insistent, its dark whispers filling his mind with images of power and control.
He stood up, his body still throbbing with desire, and began to pace the room, his mind racing with thoughts of Abigail and the spell. He had to find a way to break it, had to save her from the humiliation and degradation she was subjected to.
He couldn't stand by and watch as she was reduced to a slave of her own desires, a puppet dancing to the tune of a spell she didn't even understand.
But for now, he had no choice. He had to watch, had to bear witness to the darkness that had taken root in Abigail's soul. He had to understand it, to see it for what it truly was, before he could hope to break it.
He stopped pacing and looked down at the Grimoire, a sense of determination burning in his chest. He would find a way to break this spell, to free Abigail and Tilly from its insidious grasp.
But first, he had to watch, he told himself, he needed to know what goes on and how it works, not because he was increasingly enjoying watching it.
Abbey pulled off her robe and approached the toilet. The spell's influence was palpable, a dark whisper urging her to debase herself further. She knew she shouldn't, knew that she was being manipulated, but the magic was too strong. She felt a strange mix of shame and exhilaration as she lowered herself onto the toilet seat, her bare ass resting on the cool porcelain.
Luke watched, his heart pounding in his chest as Abigail's actions became increasingly explicit. He could feel the spell's tendrils tightening around him, dragging him deeper into the darkness.
He knew he shouldn't enjoy this, shouldn't want to witness Abigail's humiliation, but the magic was insistent, its whispers a seductive siren song he couldn't resist.
Abigail leaned forward, spreading her cheeks with her hands. She knew what the spell wanted, what it demanded, and she couldn't deny it. She was a puppet, her strings controlled by an insidious force that reveled in her debasement. She felt a tear slide down her cheek as she pressed her face against the cool tile wall, a silent scream of protest and submission.
Luke watched, his body tensed with a mix of arousal and revulsion, as Abigail's fingers danced across her exposed flesh, teasing and tormenting herself in ways that would have once been unimaginable.
The spell was consuming her, devouring her inhibitions and leaving behind a shadow of Abigail's former self. Luke could see it in the way her body moved, in the desperate, animalistic way she sought her own pleasure. It was a dark, twisted parody of the confident, ambitious woman he had once mocked and now felt a twisted sense of responsibility for.
He couldn't look away, couldn't break the spell's hold on him. He had to see it through, had to understand the full extent of the darkness he had unleashed.
As Abigail's movements became more frenzied, her moans echoing through the room like a haunting melody, Luke felt a cold sweat break out across his skin. He knew he was witnessing something he would never be able to unsee, something that would haunt him forever. But he also knew that he had to see it through, had to bear witness to the full extent of the spell's power.
Abigail practically threw herself to the ground, sliding her tongue all over the toilet, fellating the sides of the toilet seat. Luke shuddered, watching her debase herself like this. He hated himself for it, and yet he couldn’t look away. He was caught, trapped in the tendrils of the spell. The spell was strong, insistent, and the more he watched, the more he felt a strange sense of power coursing through him.
Abigail’s body shook as she brought herself to another orgasm, her fingers frantically working her clit as she licked and sucked at the porcelain. The sound of her moans filled the room, a symphony of pleasure and humiliation that made Luke’s stomach churn.
He had to do something. And as much as he wanted that something to be heroic, to help Abigail, he knew what he really needed to do what grab his hard dick and get off to Abby’s debasement. The spell reeled him in, made him hard, made him want to watch and enjoy this humiliation. Luke knew it was wrong, knew he should resist, but the magic was too strong, too seductive.
He unbuckled his belt, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he freed his cock from his jeans. He gripped himself tightly, his thumb sweeping over the head, spreading the precum that had gathered there. He bit his lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to escape. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be giving in to the spell, but he couldn't fight it any longer.
The darkness of the magic was too enticing, too powerful. He stroked himself slowly at first, his eyes locked on Abigail's degrading display. He could feel the pleasure building, could feel the heat pooling in his belly as he watched her. He gripped himself tighter, his strokes becoming more insistent, more demanding.
Abigail's body was a writhing mass of ecstasy, her every movement a testament to the power of the spell that controlled her. Luke could see the way her body responded to the magic, could see the way it twisted and turned her desires into something dark and forbidden.
He felt a shiver of excitement run down his spine, his body aching with a mix of guilt and pleasure.
He knew he shouldn't be doing this, should be resisting the spell's influence, but the sight of Abigail was too much. He couldn't look away, couldn't stop himself from giving in to the dark thrill that coursed through his veins.
He stroked himself faster, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he chased his own release. He could feel the magic pulsing around him, could feel the way it fed off of his desire, his need. A small pulse of the spell caught on a stray desire of Abigail’s, how much hotter it would be for someone to watch her like this, to see her humiliation, and the spell listened, letting her know that, out there, somehow, Luke was watching, maybe Tilly too but for certain she had a voyeur, someone she was pleasing by being watched. Luke felt the rush of pleasure, the dark thrill that came from knowing Abigail was aware of him, was doing this for him. He stroked himself harder, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he took in the sight before him. He could feel the spell’s tendrils wrapping around him, tightening their hold, insisting that he give in to his desires, to the darkness that coursed through him.
Abigail’s body convulsed as another orgasm tore through her, her body shaking with the force of it. She collapsed against the bathroom wall, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried to catch her breath.
She looked around, her eyes wild and glassy from the pleasure and the humiliation. She knew she should feel ashamed, should feel disgusted with herself for allowing the spell to control her like this, but all she felt was a strange, dark exhilaration.
She could feel the spell's influence, the dark whispers that urged her on, that demanded more. She knew she shouldn't give in, knew that she should fight against the magic, but the thought of someone watching her, of someone getting off on her humiliation, was intoxicating. The knowledge that Luke wasn’t even previously a pervert, but that she must look so hot under the spell’s influence that he just had to watch. The thought filled Abigail with a sense of power and humiliation that was unlike anything she had ever felt before. She felt a fresh wave of heat between her legs, her body still sensitive from her recent orgasms.
She looked upwards, towards where she got the sense Luke was watching from remotely, and winked. She grabbed the toilet brush and rubbed it against her wet, sensitive pussy. She moaned softly, her eyes closed as she imagined Luke's face as he watched her, his cock hard and ready. She knew it was wrong, knew that she should be ashamed, but the spell was too strong, too insistent. She couldn't fight it, couldn't resist the darkness that had taken hold of her.
Luke watched, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he stroked himself harder. He could see the defiance in Abigail's eyes, the way she looked up and winked as if she knew he was there, watching her. It was a strange, twisted turn of events, one that sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine.
Abigail, the icily regal head of the sorority, was now a willing participant in her own debasement. He could see the conflict in her eyes, the war between her natural instinct to rebel and the insidious force that controlled her.
He stroked himself faster, his body tensing as he approached the edge. The sight of Abigail was too much, too intoxicating. He couldn't resist, couldn't deny the dark thrill that coursed through his veins. He was close, so close, his body tightening with the promise of release.
Abigail shoved the toilet brush into her tight cunt. She let out a long, low moan, her back arching as the cool, hard plastic filled her up. She knew it was wrong, knew that she should be fighting back, but the spell was too strong. It fed off her humiliation, off her degradation, and she couldn't resist.
Luke watched, his hand moving frantically on his cock as he took in the sight before him. He could feel the spell's tendrils tightening around him, pulling him deeper into the darkness.
The sight of Abigail, a woman who had once mocked him and made his life miserable, now degrading herself for his pleasure, was too much to resist. His body ached with a mix of guilt and desire, but the spell's hold was too strong.
"Luke," he heard Abigail moan, her voice filled with a mix of pain and pleasure. "I know you're watching me. I can feel you, watching me, enjoying this."
The words sent a shiver down Luke's spine, a mix of arousal and unease.
“And fuck, Luke, it makes it so much better. It’s so good.” She gasped out as she fucked herself with the toilet brush. “I- I don’t think I want it to stop anymore, Luke. I don’t know if I could live without this pleasure.” As she said that, she began to rapidly fuck herself with the brush, scraping her insides with the stiff bristles, moaning in pleasure. “Fuck, Luke, it feels so good, so wrong, but so fucking good.”
Luke could feel the magic pushing him, urging him to give in. He knew it was wrong, knew he shouldn’t be getting off on this, but the magic was too strong. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him, but it was quickly swallowed by the dark, seductive whispers of the spell.
He could feel Abigail’s pleasure, her humiliation, it was as if he was feeling it himself. It was intoxicating, and he knew he couldn’t fight it anymore.
Through the spell, he whispered to Abigail, “Good girl, now cum.” He saw her writhe, her body responding to his command even as she rebelled against it.
“Fuck you, Luke,” she gasped, trying to resist the spell's influence, but her body betrayed her, clenching around the toilet brush as another orgasm tore through her.
Luke watched, his own body responding, his cock throbbing painfully in his hand. He was close, so close, but he needed Abigail to go all the way, to acquiesce completely to the spell's control.
"Good girl," he whispered, his voice raw with need and a hint of cruelty. "Now, tell me you want it. Tell me you want to be a good little slut for me."
Abigail panted, her body convulsing as the aftershocks of her orgasm subsided. She looked up, her eyes meeting Luke's through the spell's haze. She could see the hunger in his gaze, the dark thrill that mirrored her own desires.
She should hate him for this, should despise him for enjoying her degradation. But the spell was too strong, twisting her thoughts and feelings until she couldn't tell what was real and what was a manipulation of dark magic.
"I... I want it," she gasped, her voice barely a whisper yet laden with meaning. "I want to be your good little slut, Luke. I want to do anything you ask, just to feel this pleasure."
Luke's breath hitched, a ragged sound in the sudden silence of the room.
He felt a surge of power, a dark thrill that coursed through him at Abigail's words. He was getting to her, breaking her down, making her admit her deepest, darkest desires. It was a heady sensation, one that sent a shiver of exhilaration down his spine.
But there was a part of him, a small, persistent voice that screamed at him to stop. This wasn't right, wasn't who he was. He wasn't a monster, wasn't some twisted puppet master pulling strings to satisfy his own perverse desires. He was a man, a student, a magic user with a gift and a responsibility.
Abigail's words were a poison, a drug that threatened to cloud his judgment and corrupt his soul. He couldn't let it happen. He had to fight against the spell's influence, had to find a way to break free from its dark tendrils.
"Luke, please..." Abigail begged. "Don't make me stop. I need this. I need you."
Luke's hand stilled, his cock throbbing with a mix of arousal and revulsion. He looked down at Abigail, her body a mess of sweat and come, her eyes wild and pleading.
“Fuck… Abigail, clean yourself up.” He gasped out. “You- we're not thinking straight. Take a cold shower or something. Then we’ll talk.” He cut off the connection, severing himself from Abigail’s perverse pleasuring session.
Now that he’d cut off the connection with the spell, he knew he still had to finish, to release the pressure in his aching cock. Being on edge would do no one any favors, even if his morals were pushing him for it. He looked down at his still hard cock. His body was demanding release, screaming it out for him. He fisted his cock and stroked himself until his release came with a relieving shiver of pleasure. Once done, he threw his cum-covered tissues in his wastebasket and then turned to face the grimoire once more. He needed to read up on the spell and find a way to break it as soon as possible.
He first read over the ritual to make sure he hadn't missed anything, casting the incantation that would allow him to analyze the spell.
The spell was tricky enough that the person being controlled would think their actions were their own desires, but not so subtle that a trained mind wouldn't be able to tell the difference.
Fuck, why couldn’t Abigail have just mind controlled herself into being a better person? Why did she end up a desperate slut with no control over her desires?
He tilted the weave around, pondering different angles and options. Then he saw it, the thread of internal logic running through the spell. It seems that Abigail had invoked a powerful kind of mind control that severs the mind from the body, leaving the impacted individual without control over their body’s actions. But despite this, the impact of bodily sensations on the human mind has been well studied. Even if the desire exists only in Abigail’s body and not her mind, it clearly hadn’t taken long for that line to blur, for her to crave the pleasure her body forced onto her.
It’s a finicky kind of spell, a head and the heart type of thing. They aren’t his focus but luckily for Abigail, his focus on magical theory was applicable to many areas, hence why he was able to control and alter the spell once he’d been bound to it.
The more analysis Luke did, the more intrigued he was by what Abigail had created, what she’d forced into all of their lives. It seemed the magic understood that its point was humiliation, just as Tilly and Abigail had intended for him, but the other intent, the love and craving they’d wanted from Lover’s Lament had also come through in this spell.
It seemed it was still unable to simply be undone or reversed but Luke could see the intended end points. Either the spell’s target reaches a point of complete ruination, having humiliated themselves beyond repair, or the target could seek balance with the urges, accept them in a way that doesn’t destroy their life. If they maintain that balance long enough, the spell dissipates.
By altering the spell and making himself the anchor, Luke had significantly turned the tide for Abigail, making her less likely to destroy her entire life and reputation. It also gave him some element of control over how and when Abigail’s urges would flare up. With him, she could use a public bathroom and not turn into a filthy slut until later. As well, since the spell was no longer drawing on Abigail’s being for power, and was now using Luke, and, to a degree, Tilly, she would be in much better health, able to get sleep, eat meals, all sorts of better ways to exist, instead of her nonexistent magical reserves being drained dry. Abigail should be thankful for the grace he had shown her.
He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the knock on his door until it opened and Tilly walked in.
She looked around the room, her eyes taking in the grimoire and the mess of papers and candles scattered across his desk.
“Woah, Luke. Didn’t expect you to be like, all magic-y right now. Totes sorry to interrupt.” Tilly said, scanning the room. “You’re not just being kinky, are you? If you need a third for whatever game you’re playing, I’m not interested.”
Luke sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, Tilly. I’m trying to figure out how to break this fucking spell. I’m not the one who cast it, but I’m the one who’s stuck dealing with the consequences.”
Tilly raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued. “Really? I gotta admit, Lukey, I totally did not think that you’d, like, take this seriously. I mean, like, if I were in your shoes, this would be a total dream, no? Queen Bee under your thumb,” she said before gesturing to herself. “Admittedly bitchy best friend to Queen Bee also like, totally focused on what you can do for her. Now that I’m all connected in, too, I mean, this is like, literally a spell that controls our arousal and stuff, right?” Tilly asked, her mind racing with possibilities. “I mean, you know how much I love to party, so if you could like, tweak it so that I could just, like, never have a bad night out, that would be amazing!”
Luke’s head throbbed as he processed Tilly’s words. He could barely wrap his head around the fact that he was even in this situation, let alone having to deal with Tilly’s selfish demands.
“Tilly, this isn’t a game,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. “This spell is powerful and dangerous, and it’s affecting all of us in ways we can’t even understand yet. Yesterday, you were begging and yelling at me to fix this, but now, the spell has you… soothed or something. So you don’t think it’s such a big deal.” Luke said, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “Tilly, this isn’t some party trick or a way to get laid. This is a spell that could ruin all of our lives if I can’t figure out how to break it.”
Tilly rolled her eyes, clearly not taking his concerns seriously. “Come on, Luke, don’t be such a downer. You’re a magic user, right? So figure it out. Make this spell work for us.” She slid onto his bed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Think about it, Luke. We could have so much fun with this. Picture it, Lukey, Abby on her knees, slobbering all over your big cock, her stupid best friend all over you, totally getting off on it. I mean, we like, totally sucked the last few years, were totally mean to you. Why not enjoy the power you have now?” She murmured, rubbing her hand over his just recently relieved bulge.
“T-Tilly, you don’t mean that. It’s the spell talking.” Luke groaned out, flinching away from her caress. “Abigail is saying the same shit, trying to convince me she wants this and I- I have to be the one to stay strong. To not fuck you both over.” He stammered, overwhelmed by the physical closeness of a girl like Tilly and the mental images she was pushing. It was so easy to imagine what she was describing, so tempting to indulge in the darkness that had been thrust upon him. But he knew better. He had to fight it, had to be the one to hold onto his morality, even if it was slipping through his fingers like sand.
”No, Tilly! Look at what it's doing to Abigail! You think she wants this? You think she's enjoying being a slave to her own body?" Luke's voice came out more harshly than he intended, but he couldn't help it. He needed her to see the reality of the situation, to understand the danger they were all in.
But Tilly just smiled, her hand still resting on his thigh, her touch both innocent and provocative.
"Come on, Luke. Don't be such a stick in the mud. This could be fun. A little twisted, sure, but fun. You're not a virgin, are you? I mean, have you ever had a threesome, Lukey? 'Cause I gotta tell you, it's a blast." She bit her lip, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Luke's heart pounded in his chest, his body responding to her touch and her words. He knew Abigail was meant to be on her way over once she’d cleaned up… like he’d told her to. And he didn’t think it was a good idea for Tilly to be all over him when she arrived. Luke's senses were already on overdrive, his mind racing with the implications of what the spell could do, if it wasn't contained. He needed to be in control of himself and his surroundings, not succumb to Tilly's seductive advances.
"Tilly," Luke said, his voice stern as he carefully removed her hand from his thigh. "This isn't a joke. This isn't some fun way to spend a Friday night. This is serious. We're talking about Abigail and your own lives here."
Tilly pouted, her lips forming a small 'o' of disappointment. "But Luke, we could have so much fun.
You're the master now, you can make the rules, set the boundaries. Isn't that what you've always wanted?" Tilly purred, leaning in closer to him, her breath warm and sweet on his neck.
Luke felt a shiver run down his spine, his body aching with desire. He wanted to give in, to lose himself in the dark thrill that the spell promised. But he knew he couldn't. He had to be strong, had to resist the spell's seductive whispers.
"Tilly, listen to me," he said, his voice firm. "This isn’t you. You don’t even like me. You care about Abigail and yourself, that’s it. Anything to the contrary is just the spell.” Luke’s voice was firm, yet gentle, trying to break through the spell’s influence on Tilly. “You need to fight it, Tilly. It’s dangerous. The more you give in, the stronger it gets. Believe me, I’ve seen it.”
Tilly’s eyes narrowed, her lips pursing into a pout. “You’re no fun, Luke. I thought being the master would be more exciting.” She pouted, before climbing off the bed and pacing the room. “Fine, I’ll be good. I won’t make any more moves on you. But you better keep your promise, no telling Abby how I really feel about her. You can use that info on me but not her, got it?” Tilly asked, pointing a thin finger at Luke. She was still pouting, but there was a sense of worry in her voice that hadn’t been there before.
Luke nodded, feeling a strange mix of relief and guilt. He didn’t want to be the one to cause a rift between the two friends, but he also didn’t want to see Tilly get hurt because of his actions.
“I won’t tell her anything,” he promised. “But Tilly, you really need to be careful.
When you're not here, I can't control what you do. The spell is powerful, and it can make you do things you don't want to.” Luke said, his voice laced with concern.
Tilly rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “I get it, Luke. You’re the responsible one, the grown-up here. I’ll be good, I promise.” She sighed, clearly not thrilled with the idea of having to curb her impulses. “But if you’re gonna be all serious and stuff, can you at least tell me what you’ve learned about the spell?
Like, how does it work? What are the rules? And most importantly, when can I have some fun again?” Tilly asked, flopping down on Luke’s bed and propping herself up on her elbows.
Luke sighed and ran a hand through his hair, trying to sort through the jumble of information and thoughts swirling in his mind. He knew he couldn’t keep Tilly in the dark forever, but he also didn’t want to overwhelm her with the complexities of the spell.
“Alright, Tilly. I’ll explain what I can,” Luke said, sitting down at his desk and picking up the Grimoire. “But Abigail is on her way over here and I don’t want to explain the same thing twice. Why don’t you go wait for her in the dorm lobby while I figure out how best to explain this?” Luke suggested, hoping to buy some time to think and organize his thoughts.
Tilly let out a dramatic sigh but stood up and made her way to the door. “Fine, but hurry up. I don’t want to be the only one left out of the loop. And make sure you tell Abby that I’m being smart and waiting for her to explain things. I don’t want her to think I’m just being lazy,” she said before slamming the door behind herself.
Luke let out a deep breath, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling. Despite himself, Tilly had gotten him hard again. He didn’t think he could control himself if Abigail and Tilly came onto him at the same time. Plus, the less he had to lie to them the better, seeing as the spell was causing enough issues as it was.
Luke focused on the Grimoire, flipping through the pages to find a way to explain the spell in layman's terms. He didn't want to scare them, but he also needed them to understand the gravity of the situation. He jotted down some notes, trying to simplify the spell's mechanics without losing the essential details.
As he worked, he could hear muffled voices outside his door. He looked up just as Tilly and Abigail walked in, arms linked like nothing had changed between them.
Abigail looked flushed, her eyes bright, and Luke couldn't help the pang of guilt that hit him. He knew what she'd been up to, and the spell's influence was still lingering on her, a dark shadow that clung to her like a second skin.
"Luke," Abigail said, her voice soft as she looked at him. "Thank you for earlier. I... I needed that."
Luke felt a twinge of unease at her words. He knew she couldn't help herself, that it was the spell talking, but it still made him uncomfortable.
“Right, yeah. I’m just glad we were both able to… break out of it so we could talk more normally.” He ran a hand through his hair, recalling the experience of watching her, knowing she was being watched, and commanding her pleasure. He shook his head to clear his thoughts of it. “You guys can sit on the bed if you’d like. I was just about to tell Tilly what I’d learned today from a ritual I cast.” Luke said, attempting to steer the conversation away from the awkwardness of Abigail’s gratitude. “But first, Abigail, I want you to know that I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry or use the spell to watch you like that. It just kind of… happened.”
Abigail’s eyes softened, and she gave him a small smile. “I know you didn’t mean to, Luke. Don’t worry about it. I mean, it was kind of hot, right?” She winked at him, and Luke felt a flush of heat spread across his cheeks.
“Uh, yeah, it was.
I mean, it's the spell, right? It's messing with our heads,” Luke stammered, trying to hide his embarrassment. He looked over at Tilly, who was watching them with a mix of amusement and confusion.
“So, what did you learn, Lukey? Spill the tea,” Tilly said, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. She hopped onto the bed and patted the spot next to her, inviting Abigail to join her. Abigail obliged, sitting down with a small smile on her face.
Luke took a deep breath and began to explain what he had discovered. “Okay, so, this spell is... complicated.
It's not just a simple mind control spell. It's more like... a magical contract, I guess." Luke began, trying to find the right words to explain the intricacies of the spell. "The spell has two main components: the first is the control over your body and desires, and the second is the... feedback loop, I guess you could call it. The spell feeds off of the pleasure and humiliation it causes, which in turn makes the spell stronger and more insidious."
Abigail raised an eyebrow, her eyes narrowing as she processed his words. "So, you're saying that the more we give in to the spell, the stronger it gets?
That's messed up, Lukey," Tilly said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Like, I want to have fun, but I don't want to be a slave to some spell that just makes me want to fuck all the time."
Luke nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Exactly, Tilly. The spell is designed to make us crave the very thing that we’re… trying to avoid. There are two end points that complete the spell, ending its influence. Either the target gives in completely and achieves total ruination, having destroyed all respect and relationships they had with others, or they find a balance, a way to give in without losing themselves. I was able to find a somewhat similar spell, one not fueled by humiliation and it worked similarly. It was meant to make someone more charitable and kind. Either they fought against it and ended up a beggar living in squalor after giving away everything they had or they become comfortable and used to giving charity, helping their neighbors, and such. Your version of the spell just happened to forge the concept with your original intent, sexual control and humiliation.” Luke explained, hoping his words made sense to those who have never studied magic. “The first one is bad, because it means we're totally under the spell's control. The second one, though, that's not so bad. It means we find a way to live with the spell, to accept it without giving up who we are.”
Abigail wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes thoughtful. “So, you're saying that we could... adapt to this?” she asked, hesitation clear in her voice.
Luke nodded. “Yeah, basically. It's not ideal, but it's better than being completely under the spell's control. Honestly, before I added myself as the spell’s power source and anchor, you had no chance. You were going to exhaust yourself trying to resist and go fully off the deep end of humiliation. Like, think swimming in a porta-potty while masturbating kind of humiliation.” Luke said, shuddering at the thought. “Now, you have a chance because I can provide some control over when and how your urges manifest.” Luke explained, trying to keep his voice calm and reassuring. He looked back and forth between Abigail and Tilly, hoping that they understood the gravity of the situation.
Tilly bit her lip, her eyes narrowing as she considered his words. “So, like, you can make us not do stupid shit, but we still get to have fun, right?” she asked, her voice hopeful.
Luke sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Not exactly, Tilly. I can help mitigate the worst of the spell’s influence, but I can’t just turn it off like a light switch. Like for Abigail, maybe she needs to use a public restroom without cleaning the whole thing with her tongue, I could mitigate that urge. Maybe she does something mildly filthy in the moment to tide herself over or is able to last until later when she is free to indulge.” He paused, looking at Tilly. “And I’ll be totally honest, Tilly, I don’t know what this all means for you. I mean, you’re part of the spell now but you haven’t been experiencing the same urges as Abigail, right? She’s still the main target of the spell. So keep me updated as you get a sense for your new urges.” Luke finished, his gaze flicking between Abigail and Tilly. He could see the wheels turning in both of their heads, their expressions a mix of fear and curiosity.
Tilly bit her lip, her eyes sparkling with interest. "So, like, what do we do now? You gonna cast some magic on us, Lukey?" she asked, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Luke shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. "Not quite, Tilly. I can't just cast a spell and make this all go away. It's complicated, and this spell isn't something that can be undone with a simple ritual.” He stood up and turned around to grab a book from his bookshelf when he heard the noise of two sets of knees hitting the ground. Luke turned to see Abigail and Tilly both kneeling, their heads bowed respectfully.
"Luke," Abigail said, her voice soft and submissive. "We understand that you are in control now. We accept your power and your guidance."
Luke's eyes widened in shock. He hadn't expected them to submit so easily, especially not Tilly. He looked back and forth between the two girls, his mind racing.
"What... what are you doing?" he stammered, his heart pounding in his chest.
Abigail looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and desire. “I- I don’t really know. As soon as you stood in front of me, it was like I saw you, as an authority over me, as my master. And it was like it was wrong to not be bowing at your feet.” She stammered, her voice thick with sudden lust and desire. “I- It feels right, Luke. Like this is how it’s meant to be. Can’t you feel it too?” She looked up at him, her eyes pleading, desperate for his understanding.
Tilly, meanwhile, had taken a more playful approach, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looked up at him. “Come on, Luke. Don’t be a wet blanket. We’re all in this together, right?” She leaned in closer, face right in line with his cock as she whispered, “Think about it, Luke. You’re in control now. You can say it’s the spell all you want but all I know is that as soon as you stood above me, my pussy melted and I needed to be at your feet.” Tilly said, her voice breathy as she leaned in even closer, her tongue flicking out to lick the bulge of his cock through his jeans.
Luke’s breath hitched, his body responding despite his better judgement. He could feel the heat radiating off of both of them, their desire a palpable force that was impossible to ignore. But he had to try, had to push aside the darkness that beckoned him with promises of pleasure and power.
“Guys, listen to me,” he said, his voice tight with tension. “This isn’t right. You don’t want to do this. You don’t actually want me. I- I’m Luke the Loser, right? This isn’t you.” He stammered out, unable to look down at either of them, knowing he couldn’t handle the look in their eyes or the perfect viewing angle for their pressed together tits. “You have no idea what you're doing. You don't want this. You’d hate yourselves afterwards. That's not who you are, you're both better than this.” Luke's voice was firm and sure, but beneath it, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions boiled. He was aroused, disgusted, guilty, and more conflicted than he’d ever been in his life.
Abigail looked up at him, her eyes filled with confusion and pain. “Luke, you don’t understand. I’ve never felt like this before. Like I’m on fire, like I can’t breathe without you.
I need you, Luke. I need you to guide me.” Tears welled up in Abigail’s eyes, her voice filled with an intensity that made Luke’s heart ache.
Luke felt a pang of sympathy mixed with a surge of arousal. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her that everything would be okay. But he also wanted to give in to the dark desire that was coursing through his veins, a desire that was fueled by the spell and his own twisted senses.
Tilly, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying the situation immensely.
She was all but purring as she looked up at Luke, her eyes filled with mischief and desire. You know you want this just as much as we do. You can fuck us both, make us your little sluts. Wouldn't that be fun?" she asked, her voice dripping with seduction.
Luke felt a surge of anger mixed with lust. He wanted to shout at both of them, to tell them to snap out of it and see reason. But he also wanted to give in, to lose himself in the darkness that threatened to consume them all.
He was so tired of being the strong one, the one who didn’t get to enjoy the golden opportunity they’d thrown at his feet. He hadn’t asked for this but it was his now, and fuck, if he wasn’t going to enjoy it at least a little bit.
With a growl, he leaned down and grasped Tilly’s throat, just enough to make her gasp, pushing her back against his bed. “God, you’re such a stupid bimbo slut, aren't you, Tilly? You can’t think with anything other than your pussy even when your life literally depends on it.” He said, his voice low, husky, and dangerous. He felt a dark pleasure at the sight of Tilly's wide eyes, the flare of fear mixed with the darker thrill of arousal. He knew he was playing with fire, but he couldn't resist the pull of the spell, the dark promise of power and control.
“L-Luke,” Tilly stammered, her hands clawing at his wrist, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. “I-I can be whatever you want me to be.”
Luke looked down at her, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, I know you can, Tilly. That’s the problem.
You’re not thinking.” Luke said, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re just a puppet, dancing on strings you can’t even see.” He tightened his grip slightly, just enough to make Tilly’s eyes widen in fear.
Abigail watched, her heart pounding in her chest as she took in the sight of Luke and Tilly. She was torn between wanting to run and wanting to stay, wanting to stop him and wanting to join in. The spell was a tangible force, a dark tendril that wrapped around her, urging her to give in to her desires, to let go of her inhibitions and surrender to the darkness.
She could feel it, a seductive promise of pleasure and power that whispered in her ear, urging her to embrace the sensation of being at Luke's mercy.
Luke's grip on Tilly's throat tightened, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down Abigail's spine. "You think you can handle this, Tilly?" he asked, his eyes locked onto hers. "You think you can handle me?"
Tilly swallowed hard, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and arousal. I can try," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Luke's grip loosened slightly, but his eyes remained locked onto Tilly's, a fierce intensity burning within them. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice like velvet. "Because I'm not going to be gentle with you. I'm going to use you, Tilly. I'm going to make you scream."
Abigail felt a shiver run down her spine as she watched the exchange between Luke and Tilly. She could see the dark thrill in Luke's eyes, the power that radiated from him as he held Tilly captive.
It was a stark contrast to the shy, awkward boy she had known, the one who had always been the butt of her jokes and the target of her cruelty. But this Luke, the one who held her friend in his grasp, was different. He was dangerous, intoxicating, and impossible to resist.
Abigail could feel the spell's influence thickening the air around them, a dark, seductive force that whispered in her ear and begged her to give in. She could feel her body responding, her nipples hardening and her pussy growing wet with desire. She wanted this, wanted Luke, wanted to be a part of this twisted, forbidden dance. She glanced over and saw his shoe bench. It wasn’t going to be as filthy as the bathroom but she knew she could prove her worth and satisfy her cravings but licking them all clean.
She crawled over and knelt down, pulling the bench towards her so she could reach all the shoes. She started with Luke’s sneakers, running her tongue along the toe, coaxing out the dirt and grime. Fuck, this was so wrong, but it felt so right. It was like every nerve ending in her body was on fire, her senses heightened to the point where she could taste every speck of dirt, every hint of sweat. It was disgusting, but it was the most arousing thing she had ever done.
She could feel the spell's influence on her, urging her to humiliate herself further, to give in to the darkness and embrace the depravity. But there was another part of her, a small, stubborn voice that refused to surrender completely. That voice reminded her that she was Abigail, the head of the sorority, a strong, powerful woman who didn't need to debase herself for anyone. Especially not for Luke, of all people.
As she moved on to Tilly's heels, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have Luke's cock in her mouth instead. She heard the movement behind her still, Tilly and Luke breathing heavily, she turned around as she fellated the shoe’s heel and saw their eyes on her, lust and disgust in their expressions, her favorite. They both knew what a whore she was becoming under the spell but it was still so arousing having their eyes on her, judging her. She took all the shoes off with her mouth, her tongue swirling around them, making sure she got every little bit.
Luke sat down on his desk chair, his eyes never leaving Abigail as she worked. “You’re right, Abigail,” he said, his voice low and husky. “This is wrong. This isn’t you. You don’t want to be doing this.”
Abigail looked up, her eyes meeting Luke’s.
Despite the filth in her mouth, she felt a sense of defiance, a spark of her true self trying to battle against the spell’s influence.
“You’re right,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “This isn’t me. I don’t want to be doing this.”
Luke’s gaze softened, and he stood up, moving towards her. He reached out, his hand gentle as he helped her to her feet. “You don’t have to,” he said, his voice filled with a quiet strength. “You’re stronger than this, Abigail.”
Abigail looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of confusion and hope.
"But... but I want to," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "The spell... it makes me want this."
Luke sighed, his heart aching for her. He knew the struggle she was going through, the war between her true self and the dark desires the spell was forcing upon her. He took her hands in his, his grip firm and reassuring. "I know, Abigail. I know it feels good, feels right. But it's not. You're not a filthy slut. You're a strong, intelligent woman who deserves better than this."
Abigail looked down at the ground, her eyes filled with tears. His words were meant to be reassuring but they just fueled the fire. She absolutely *was* a filthy, disgusting slut. She was a strong, intelligent woman and she could still want this, need this. He’d said the whole point of the spell was balance or something, right? Then why couldn’t she enjoy herself?
Why did she have to be the one to push against the spell while Tilly just went along with it? It wasn’t fair.
Abigail pulled her hands away from Luke’s, stepping back as a wave of anger mixed with self-pity crashed over her. She turned to Tilly, who was now sitting on the bed, her legs spread wide, her fingers buried deep inside herself as she watched them.
“You know, Tilly, I always thought you were just a stupid bimbo, but now I see you’re just a coward. You can’t even fight against this spell.
You just give in, like the stupid slut you are.” Abigail spat, her eyes flashing with anger and resentment. She could feel the spell's influence surging within her, feeding off of her emotions and amplifying them until she felt like she was going to explode.
Tilly looked up from her self-pleasuring, her eyes wide with surprise. “What the fuck, Abby? You’re the one who’s supposed to be all strong and shit. I’m just having some fun, like you said we should. What’s your problem?” she asked, her voice defensive.
“You’re the one who’s all bent out of shape about this. I’m just going with the flow. If you’re so strong, why don’t you do the same?”
Abigail felt a surge of fury, the spell feeding off of her emotions and twisting them into something dark and dangerous. She lunged at Tilly, her hands curled into claws as she screamed, “You stupid bitch! You always thought you were better than me, didn’t you? You always thought you were the prettier one, the more popular one.
But look at you now, playing the part of the stupid little slut, begging for it like the pathetic whore you are." Abigail shouted as she pounced on Tilly, her fingers digging into her best friend's shoulders as she pinned her down on the bed.
Luke watched in shock as Abigail's entire demeanor changed, the seductive, pleading girl replaced by a violent, enraged monster. He could see the spell's influence twisting her features, her eyes wild with the dark power that coursed through her veins.
Luke could tell words alone couldn’t stop her, nor would putting himself in there physically. He pulled on the eager, living magic that fueled the spell, holding its power. “Stop. Now.” He ordered, his voice low like thunder. The magical energy hummed in response to his command, wrapping around Abigail and forcing her to freeze in place.
Luke stood there, panting, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never felt this kind of raw power before, never felt like he was in control of something so destructive. But he knew he couldn’t let Abigail hurt Tilly, not like this. Not while she was under the spell’s influence.
Tilly looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear and awe. “W-What did you do?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“Get off of her, Abigail. She’s your friend. She might also be a stupid bimbo but that’s another matter entirely. You two have to be there for each other.” He commanded, still holding the power, desire and fear warring within his body. He needed to make sure Abigail listened, but he also needed to rein in his desperation to feel in control.
Abigail blinked, her expression slowly changing from the rage-filled snarl to one of confusion and disbelief. "What... what just happened?" she stammered, looking down at Tilly, who was still pinned beneath her. She slowly shifted off her friend, her hands shaking as she took in the scene.
Luke let out a shaky breath, releasing the magical power he'd been holding. He felt drained, both physically and emotionally, but he knew he couldn't rest yet. He stepped forward, only for his vision to flicker, and the last thing he saw was his room going sideways as he fell to the ground.
Luke awoke to the sound of distant voices, feeling the cool touch of a damp cloth on his forehead. He groaned, trying to shake off the fog that clouded his mind. As his vision came back into focus, he saw that he was lying on his bed, with Abigail perched on the edge, her eyes filled with worry.
"Luke, are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft and concerned.
He blinked, trying to gather his bearings. "Yeah, I think so. What happened?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
Abigail sighed, her shoulders slumping in relief. "You passed out.
Tilly and I were worried about you, so we got you up here and made sure you were comfortable." Abigail explained, her voice gentle. Luke looked around the room, taking in the dim light and the soft hum of the fan. He felt groggy, like he'd been asleep for hours. "How long have I been out?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Abigail looked away, her eyes flicking to the clock on the wall. "A few hours. You were out cold, Luke. We were really worried about you."
Luke sighed, rubbing his temples to try and ease the pounding in his head.
"Fuck, what happened? I don't remember much after I made you stop attacking Tilly."
Abigail's expression darkened, her lips pressing into a thin line. "You don't remember what happened? You controlled me, Luke. Completely and totally. You had to use magic to stop me from hurting Tilly, and then you passed out like a fucking pussy." She spat the words out, her eyes flashing with anger.
Luke winced at her harsh words, but he knew she was right. He'd overstepped, used too much power, and it had taken its toll on him. "I'm sorry, Abigail. I- I just didn’t know how to make you calm down, the spell had you in such a whiplash of emotions, lust to rage like nothing I’d seen. I just wanted to help.” He trailed off, feeling none of the powerful energy he’d been filled to the brim with earlier. He just felt empty, tired, and sore. He looked up at Abigail, searching for any signs of lingering anger or resentment.
Abigail sighed, her expression softening as she took in his worn-out appearance. “I know you were just trying to help, Luke. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m just… frustrated. I don’t want to be this way, but the spell is so strong. And seeing you pull all that power, it just made me realize how much trouble we really are in.” She let out a shaky breath, her eyes filling with tears.
Luke reached out, taking her hand in his. “I’m sorry, Abigail. I don’t want to make you scared or uncomfortable but I also don’t know that we shouldn’t be feeling that way. I mean, honestly, we should be terrified.” He whispered, not meeting her eyes.
“I’m scared, Abigail. And I don’t know how to help you. Or Tilly. I’m just a guy who likes folklore and magic, not a fucking sorcerer. I can’t control this thing. I can’t even control myself around it. And I’m worried I’m not cut out to help you with this thing.” He exhaled deeply. “I think we need an expert’s help, someone who can understand without judgment.” Luke whispered. “I know a few people who deal in the paranormal and occult. Maybe they can help us figure out how to control this thing.”
Abigail nodded, wiping away her tears. “I trust your judgment, Luke. If you think we need to bring in someone else, then I believe you. I just... I don’t want this to get out of hand.” Her voice trembled slightly, and Luke squeezed her hand reassuringly.
“It won’t, Abigail. I promise.” He said, though he wasn’t so sure himself. He was in way over his head, and he knew it.
But he also knew that he was the only one who could help Abigail and Tilly navigate this dark river they'd been thrown into. He just needed some guidance, some expertise to steer them towards safer shores.
"Alright, I'll make some calls tomorrow and see if I can't find someone who can help us," Luke said, giving Abigail's hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, rubbing his temples to stave off the lingering headache.
"Tilly went out for some food," Abigail said, standing up and smoothing out her clothes.
"She said she'd be back in a little while." She gave Luke a small smile, her eyes still filled with worry. "You should get some rest, Luke. You look like shit."
Luke managed a weak laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Thanks, Abigail. That's just what every guy wants to hear." He stood up, trying to ignore the aches and pains that were still lingering in his body. "I'll try to get some sleep, but I doubt it'll come easy."
Chapter excerpt truncated at the edge.