‘That’s it,’ he said, nodding, ‘just lie back. You know how much you like your long baths. Isn’t the water so nice and warm?’
Slipping back into the bubbly water she nodded happily. ‘Oh yes, Sir, the water is very nice.’ Her smile could have charmed the birds from the trees, and as the water swept over her curves until only her head was above the waterline he tried to disguise the boner he was nursing. Fortunately, her attention had wandered and she was splashing the water gently and popping bubbles with her fingertips. Sure, it was a mild inconvenience that he had to remain with her all the way through her bathing time, but the results were more than worth it.
He could still barely believe how lucky he had got. When he had first stepped foot in the poky little shop, he had immediately believed it to be a sham. Walls dominated by shelving groaning beneath the weight of countless little bottles, each with strange names and barely legible directions for use scribbled on labels stuck to the glass. Strange things had hung from the roof and stranger things had been displayed in glass-fronted cases, and the strangest thing of all had been the shop owner. Perched behind the counter like some bizarre crow, she had been dressed as though she were plucked straight from a storybook: her clothes fashioned of everything from silk to wool as though she were wearing a patchwork blanket, a little golden eyeglass hung on a cord around her neck and her hair seemingly iridescent, never quite taking on a particular colour. To drive home her strange nature, a walking stick topped with a carving of a hummingbird’s head was propped against her stool, and she was wearing a wide-brimmed, intensely frayed purple hat. She looked for all the world as though somebody had asked a child to draw what they thought a witch with a confused fashion sense and a drinking problem might look like and bought the result to life.
If he was honest, James really didn’t know why he had even stepped into the shop. He had never seen it before, and in truth he had never even visited that portion of the city until that day. After his girlfriend had left him, he had taken to strolling around the city, visiting the places they had frequented in the forlorn hopes he might find her waiting for him. He didn’t really know why – she was manipulative, a serial cheater and a toxic personality – but his loneliness drove him to it. On that particular day, he had explored the city further than he ever had before, and the tiny shop on the end of a narrow street seemed so out of place he had not been able to help but enter.
‘Hello, dear,’ the old crone had said, ‘how can I help you today?’
Something about the atmosphere of the shop made him comfortable to speak in ways he had barely even allowed himself to admit internally, let alone outwardly.
He had scoffed hollowly. ‘If you’ve got anything for an awful ex and crushing loneliness I’ll take three.’
As though she knew something he did not, she had smiled toothily, hopped down from her stool and trundled over to a set of shelves. ‘Now you come to mention it, I distinctly recall a fresh batch of comeuppance coming in last week, and I always make sure to keep companionship in stock.’ Frowning, James had raised an eyebrow as she rummaged through the bottles, vials and little bound of scrolls on the shelf, eventually hobbling over to him with a broad grin. ‘Here you are dearie. These should suit you quite nicely.’ James hadn’t known what to say.
Grabbing his hand, she pushed two little vials into it. The labels seemed like they had been written centuries ago, and while one contained liquid of a violent green, the other was filled with vibrant red. ‘Comeuppance and companionship, just like I said, my dear. My own secret recipes mind you, not likely to get anything quite as potent as those anywhere else.’
‘Right…’ James had said, inching back towards the door. As well-meaning as she appeared, and as warm as her attitude was, she had clearly lost her mind. That atmosphere that had made him speak so honestly suddenly seemed deeply perturbing.
‘What you want to do is run a nice hot bath with a little of those in. Don’t use too much mind, you don’t want to run out too soon. And don’t go getting in, dearie, oh no. Just you leave it and see what happens. Oh,’ she made a show of patting down her pockets before producing a small slip of card, ‘I almost forgot. Here’s my card. Anything else you need just read that aloud.’
James had frowned. Like everything else, the card seemed entirely out of time. Fringed with curling gold embossments and bearing stamped lettering as though written on a typewriter, it held only eight words: Miss Morgana, I have need of your assistance. The other eyebrow went up and he tried not to look confused.
‘Now off with you, dear. First visits are always free. See you again soon.’
With that she bundled him out of the shop and he found himself stood on the empty pavement. Quite unable to wrap his head around what had actually just happened, he had decided that he had spent long enough wandering the backstreets and had headed home.
The vials had sat untouched in his bathroom for some time, and in truth he was so distracted by his work schedule that he lost track of how long it had been since the strange woman had gifted them to him. One night, after a particularly long day and an evening spent wallowing in self-pity nursing more than one strong drink, the memory of his odd encounter had flooded back to him. Throwing caution to the wind he had drawn a steaming hot bath and carefully – if tremulously – deposited several drops of liquid from each vial into the water. As the bath filled, so the liquid frothed and by the time the bath was full it was topped with beautifully scented bubbles.
James had not had to wait long before there was a knock at the door. Opening it, he had been unable to believe his eyes. ‘Katie,’ he had breathed. She looked as though she were dressed for a night out – little black dress, high heels and deep cleavage – and her lip curled with disdain as she saw him. She hadn’t spoken to him since their break-up, and she was the last person he had expected to see. ‘What are you doing here?’
She sighed, tapping incessantly on her phone and rarely looking up at him. ‘Turns out I left some heels here after I dumped your ass. I’m here to take them back.’
James had frowned. ‘You must have left them somewhere else; I’ve been through the whole house. Everything of yours is gone.’
Scowling, she had pushed him aside and stormed up the staircase. ‘Out of my way, asshole. I know they’re here, and I’m not about to leave them for any loser you date to steal.’ Hurrying up after her, he almost ran straight into her as he found her stood stock still outside the open bathroom door. For a moment she was silent, so still and silent that he wondered if perhaps she had suffered some form of episode. It was like she had been frozen where she stood: her expression calm, her stance relaxed. The only indications she was even still alive were the fact she remained upright and that her chest rose and fell softly.
Then, all at once, Katie was herself again and a mocking smile spread across her face. ‘Are you having a bubble bath?’ Marching into the bathroom she laughed callously. ‘Jesus Christ, you are. How gay are you? The whole place smells like a freaking spa!’
‘Oh, that, that’s not for me,’ James had mumbled bashfully.
‘Not anymore it’s not, you’re right. I’ve got a long night ahead of me so this should help me relax before I leave. Get out.’ Obediently, he had left the room and she had slammed the door behind him, locking it for good measure. In hindsight, he wished he had been in the room with her during that first bath. He had stood outside for a few minutes until he had heard her sink into the warm, bubbly water, but after it became apparent she would not be leaving any time soon he had retired to his room to play some video games. But now he knew that it had all started there, he would give anything to be able to go back and see her relaxing in his bath.
At length, he had fallen asleep. He had been awoken the next day to the rustling of plastic and the clinking of crockery. Confused, he had descended the stairs to find Katie in his kitchen, two bowls on the counter filled with cereal in front of her. She was wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of his boxer shorts, and her stunning figure had made him weak at the knees.
Still, she seemed different than the Katie he had spoken with the night before. A little shorter, hair a shade darker, eyes a touch larger, frame a fraction different. Convincing himself he had drank too much the night before, James had shaken off the thoughts. When she had spotted him she had met him with the scowl he was so used to.
‘I’ll say one thing, even if you are a loser, you know how to run a good bath. Was so relaxed when I got out I couldn’t be bothered to head into town so I slept on the sofa. Thought it only fair I make you some breakfast, you know, to say thanks I guess.’ James had only blinked in shock. It might have just been cereal, but Katie had never prepared him so much as a meal in their entire three-year relationship. ‘Had to steal one of your shirts, sorry. Boxers too.’
Unsure exactly what to say, James had eaten the cereal she had made and headed off to work shortly after, expecting her to be gone by the time he came home. She wasn’t. And she hadn’t left since. Every night thereafter he had poured her another bath, and with each night he watched her change a little more. By now she was no longer the bitchy blonde girl who had walked in and stolen his bath, but dainty, dark-haired and giggly, and desperate for his attention. Every morning he awoke to the smell of freshly cooked bacon, and every night he would sit beside the bath as she soaked in the bubbly water. Sure, her IQ had dropped a fair bit: he couldn’t leave her alone in the bath without her missing him too much and urgently leaving the bathroom to find him, for example. Her difficulty in being separated from him was so intense that he had been forced to take time off work in order to stay with her.
But the results were incredible. Every night they would fuck like animals, with her incessant need for his control and stimulation intoxicatingly arousing. She had more stamina than he had ever known her to have and somehow that seemed to pass onto him, for he could last longer than ever before even with her endless teasing. The very sight of a boner sent her into a frenzy of sexual energy, and more than once when she had noticed him tenting through his jeans she had pinned him down and rode him until they were sweaty messes on the floor. She was more perfect than he could ever have hoped for: beautiful, loving and an amazing fuck.
When he had stepped into that shop he had not believed a single word the batty old woman had said to him. Now? Well, he had already read from the card twice in the past week. Both times he found himself in that strange shop with the woman beaming at him. Already she had provided him with a profit potion, and it just so happened that the next day he was identified as the sole heir to a multi-million fortune of a distant relative. Shortly after, a fitness enchantment had seen his physique improve dramatically, including an increase in size where it mattered the most to his little Katie. He looked down at his plaything who was staring up at him, coyly playing with her wet hair. James was still unable to believe how lucky he was, but with Miss Morgana never more than eight words away and his doting, delicious Katie at his beck and call every second of the day, he certainly wasn’t about to complain…
Thanks for reading!
You can consider this piece an unscheduled treat. It as actually a piece I wrote for and released on Tumblr ages ago, but it got took down. Given that it has been in content appeal since fucking August, I’m sick of waiting for it to be cleared so it’s here for everyone to enjoy instead.
If you’ve spent much time in the erotic internet sphere you probably know the model used in this piece is Belle Delphine. She is an interesting character to say the least, and I understand that she is fairly controversial, but that’s none of my concern. I have used her work to support this piece, and as such I am more than happy to link to her content. Therefore you can follow her on Twitter here: https://twitter.com/bunnydelphine?lang=en-gb and you can also find her in various other places across the internets.
Also, for those of you who noticed, yes, I did reference Morgana in this story and yes she is the same Morgana from my serial ‘The Witches’. Given this piece was originally intended for a Tumblr release I liked the idea of linking it to one of the wider universes established in my blog stories, but I didn’t intend it as a Witches short story, the link just came about as I was writing it.
I would love to hear your thoughts on my work, so please leave me a comment!
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