Halloween | Magic | Sharing

She Wants to be a Little Wicked Wit’ch oo …

Amateur witch uses an occult item and boosts her sexy magic

Susannah worried about the authenticity to the spell, so many of her ingredients were only approximations of those listed in the ancient grimoire she’d bought at auction.

An ivy-covered manor that stood alone on the hillside, as far from the church as the village could accommodate, had fascinated her for two decades. At school the other children had whispered rumours and half truths about its supposedly wicked residents. As a young adult, she’d often stared at its silhouette, dark and menacing against the skyline.

She vividly remembered the storm which had damaged its western tower.

That night she’d witnessed jagged bolts of lightning hitting the roof and shattering tiles, causing cracks in the mortice. When she saw there would be an auction of the house’s contents before developers moved in, Susannah was determined to own a piece of its history. She’d put in a sealed bid for a lot of twenty leather-bound tomes from the manor’s extensive library, and had been elated to find the grimoire hidden within a false book cover.

Susannah’s friends knew nothing of her interest in the occult, which had been sparked by the stories about the old house. They had been surprised when she refused an invitation to wear a skimpy, faux horror costume to attend their Halloween party. Ruby had nagged so much that, to fob her off, Susannah promised she’d try to come later; it wouldn’t start till after pub closing time.

A costume had seemed appropriate for casting the spell, but it wasn’t something she’d wear in public.

She’d ordered a BDSM outfit contrived of leather straps, Susannah’s breasts were bare and two leather strips framed, but did not cover her pussy lips, fusing at her perineum and continuing up between her butt cheeks as a single strand. She felt powerful dressed this way, but also vulnerable. Like a willing, juicy morsel for an evil spirit to toy with, she thought.

Susannah’s Le Creuset oven dish must pass for a cauldron, being iron beneath the pottery veneer. She’d ordered frog legs from an on-line delicatessen, hoping if she doubled the quantity that would replace the whole frogs required. She’d gone out that morning and found three snails, now stored in a take-away box with holes punched in the lid.

Thank goodness there were no newts or snakes required by the spell. Next door’s cat hadn’t scratched her too deeply when she’d plucked out its whisker, although now it yowled miserably at her whenever she passed. She’d caught rainwater in a bucket, and some of her own piss in a jug. The goat’s milk was homogenised, from the supermarket, and the blood drained from a lamb’s liver she’d purchased.

Candles were set all around her kitchen, and when she turned off the overhead light their flickering gave the darkness an eerie, woozy feeling. She set the cauldron on the gas hob and carefully added the ingredients in the order the spell specified. She’d even used Google translate to help her pronounce the unfamiliar words of the incantation she must recite once they were all stirred together. Her heart beat against her ribs, making her bare breasts tremble, but excitement welled inside her too.

Counting ten spilled drops of blood into the pan from a teaspoon, she turned to the chopping board for slices of tomato — known as a love apple in the middle ages. For this was a love potion and Susannah planned to invoke the man of her dreams.

How long was she supposed to cook this?

Its smell was foul, and now she’d added every ingredient and said the words of the spell, Susannah didn’t know what else to do. She stood silently in the kitchen, looking round at the swaying shadows caused by the flickering candle flames. Her nipples had hardened in anticipation and her heart thumped steadily, she could feel it at the base of her throat. This was the craziest thing she’d ever tried to do, and she felt crushed that it hadn’t even worked.

Suddenly there was a loud crash outside her window. Susannah yelped with shock and ran to investigate, pulling the curtain aside. It was her neighbour Spencer, and he looked both agitated and surprised, but gestured for her to open her window. Which she did.

“I’ve locked myself out of my flat!” he roared, then he looked around. “What on earth have I interrupted?”

Susannah had completely forgotten how skimpy her costume was, until Spencer’s eyes began to rake over her body and his face took on a feral expression.

“I was celebrating Halloween the old way,” she bluffed, feeling a mixture of foolish and flattered.

Spencer was practically drooling as he folded his long legs inside the open window and climbed down into the dim, candlelit room.

“You look good enough to eat.” He seemed mesmerised by her swaying breasts.

Susannah flushed with excitement, she’d always thought Spencer was rather delicious too. Her nether regions clutched as he stepped closer.

“That’s an awful smell, is your supper burning?”

Spencer’s remark snapped Susannah out of a reverie where she was slowly peeling off his clothes.

“Oh goddess, the potion!”

She reached for the knob to turn off the heat and quickly dropped a lid on the pot. Spencer did not need to see the congealed mess within.

When she turned back to face her visitor, Susannah was filled with a new confidence. The spell had worked and delivered Spencer, who was indeed the man of her dreams. She didn’t intend to waste this opportunity.

Halloween is one of my favourite festivals. As a kid, attending a fancy dress party in October I could expect pumpkin carving, apple bobbing but my favourite game was murder in the dark. You can read some chillers I’ve shared on Medium

The Power of a Mother’s Love Harriet knew she was worried, but not why. Neither could she remember the reason she was out on such a cold, wild night

And one by Ósk Mincskova The Bone Reader: Can the Bone Reader provide the answers she seeks?

Use my link to get membership to Medium, your monthly payment directly supports me, plus you’ll have access to thousands of other writers’ great content. Subscribe to my email so that new stories I post come directly to your inbox. Please follow my writing. Submitted for the Wicked Witches prompt on Smut Mill