She reentered the dark room knowing that all was prepared. Her spell to create an amulet of protection was well and lovingly laid out. Her submissive was bound for her attentions and trained to push his energy, his lust, and his pain into the spell. The only thing remaining was she herself, the magician and the woman who had laid the spell and would raise the energy that would give it life. She was ready.

The spell was simple enough, laid out with cards representing universal archetypes, and written in a sigil that would later be burned. The important part was infusing that spell with the necessary energy it would need to move from her imagination to her reality. She would use eroticism to raise that energy and working in tandem with her submissive they would direct that energy into her spell instead of allowing it to dissipate, as was so often the case in erotic encounters.

Lust and pain, control and orgasm, pleasure and longing, these were the ingredients she needed for her craft.

She walked towards her submissive, a male: nude and bound over a bench. His ass exposed to her, his cock and balls dangling without hope of protection. He shivered at the thought of what was to come as he heard her high heels clicking on the wooden floor. He was afraid of what was in his immediate future but he needed it as well. He knew that no matter how bad it got for him he needed to suffer at her hands, to cry out in pain as she laughed.

She saw him shiver and smiled. She knew that she wasn't like other women, she didn't grow week in the knees while being romanced by a hunk of a man, but rather the sights and sounds of male suffering and pain excited her. As she reached him she cut a vicious stroke with her cane, delighting as he yelled out at the blow he was unprepared to receive. Eleven cuts with the cane quickly followed the first beginning their shared night of magick and ecstasy.

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If you enjoyed this story, I hope that you will consider my book of erotic flash fiction:
Dystopian Longings