At five feet tall and slightly plump, Sara Clarence, had a radiant smile to match her fiery hair. Never at a loss for partners, pleasing as they were, they had always left a taste in her mouth for something more. Each day, Sara passed a shabby looking occult shop across from her job but never had the right amount of courage to step inside…until today. The draw to go inside was irresistible. Her feet crossing the threshold, she found titles and herbs she had never heard of. One book in particular called to her: “A Summoning of a Lover.” Her fingers turned the book of spells in her hands, nervous about the energy she felt calling. After a moment of hesitation, she brought it to the cashier and quickly slid out the door.
Weeks passed as she read the book, all the while gathering tools, candles, herbs and picking the perfect place for the ritual. Samhain (All Hallow’s Eve) finally came upon her. She pulled on her most sultry black dress and made her way to the woods outside of her home – book and ingredients in tow.
Looking around to make sure all was safe, she reached the circle she had cleared out during the past week and dropped the bag, blanket, and book. She laid everything on a red pillar candle, some various herbs, some wine, and a bundle of rope. She didn’t understand why the spell had called for the rope as it was used nowhere in the text, but she brought it anyway.
The sun set and the full moon was rising as she finished setting up her space and then poured a glass of wine. “The worst thing that could happen is me looking stupid, and I’m pretty familiar with that.” She tossed back the last of her wine and opened to the page she had marked with the sales receipt from the store. “Summon Him” it was titled. She read aloud as she followed the steps to the spell, finishing with the last step of lighting the red candle.
The spell now complete, Sara looked around expectantly. There was no one around. No magical lover who could make her feel what she was looking for. “Figures,” she scoffed as she tossed the book aside and grabbed the bottle of wine, turning it up and finishing it spilling just a little on the ground. She lay down on the blanket with her bag balled up under her head and watched the candle’s flame lick the wax away. “At least it’s a beautiful night,” she sighed and closed her eyes.
With a bolt and a gasp, she awoke abruptly to find herself hanging in the air, suspended with some intricate pentacle of rope across her chest. Mouth open, eyes wide, she let out a silent scream. A deep voice growled, “You will scream many times tonight, but no one will hear them. You summoned me here, and here am I.” The sound of claws against the grass and leaves sent chills up her spine as the speaker appeared before her. The sight of the beast pulled another silent scream from her lips. He chuckled as his sharp claws roamed across her silk black dress, ripping trails of holes in their wake until it hung off of her like a shredded rag. Nicking her flesh a few times, she whimpered as the hot liquid swelled from her skin. “But lover… I’m who you asked for.” He indicated the red candle that had seemed to not burn down at all, its flame flickering against the night. “Now you have me until the flame is spent and I intend to make you cry, beg, and plead for me to stay with you.”
His claws dragged against the ground as he disappeared behind her once more. A hum through the air heralded a light knife-like slice in her behind. She whimpered as she struggled to steady herself with her tiptoes. Another hum and cut. She cried out as each one was harder than the one before. Another and another, no real rhythm of the fall of the whip, nor did he seem to be counting. She became lost within each strike and time became meaningless. Her bottom welted and bleeding, her body excited and trembling for him, tears stung her cheeks.
“Beg me,” he laughed. She opened her mouth, but words refused to come. Her screams had worn her throat raw. She thought as loud as she could, “Please Sir, Please give me release!” She instantly felt his hot breath against her shoulder and his teeth on her skin…and then nothing. Just …nothing. She glanced up to see the red candle reach its spend before his arms disappeared from her waist and she fell to the ground.
The sun was bright and warm against Sara as her eyes fluttered open. Her skin was covered by some sort of fur blanket, and the air around her smelled of sweet spices and sweat. The night came rushing back to her as she sat up and immediately cried out, her hands reaching for the tender welts on her bottom and thighs. She smiled coyly as she poked them a little more then picked up her book which fell open to the page labeled “Summon Him.” There she found a scrawled note in what looked like blood,. “Next time use a larger candle, pet.”