The Cum Witch Ch. 01 The Necronomicum

Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of completely fictional mind control, rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, consensually non-consensual (CNC), or non-consensual sex or scenarios.

*****

The construction workers across the street catcalled her again on the way to the library. She rolled her eyes. Her dark brown hair was whipped into a quick bun, she had on a white t-shirt, her favorite light brown cardigan, black jeans, and her thick black frames. It wasn't like her body was on display, but she still always grabbed attention whether she wanted it or not.

The library was an unimposing red brick building, old construction. It was the reason she had moved to this town, the previous librarian retired and a new one was needed. She had a lot of fresh student loans to pay off, so she took the job.

The old key grinds as it turns in the lock. She was still getting used to the feeling of being responsible for this whole place. Her first few weeks have been spent organizing misplaced books and unprocessed returns, the previous librarian had seemingly not kept up most of her duties while waiting for a replacement. As she deposits her tote bag and coffee cup on the big wooden librarian's desk, she decides it is time to tackle the final room in the back. A full bookshelf covers the door as if it is meant to be hidden.

The room is small with only a few short bookshelves. There are no windows and a musty smell hangs in the stagnant air, it is likely no one has entered this room in a very long time. Using the flashlight on her phone, she briefly glances over the rows of books. One book catches her eye immediately. Part of her college degree had dealt with ancient books and manuscripts and she could tell this book was old. It did not fit in with the rest. Cleaning up this room could wait, she immediately grabs the book and brings it back to the large desk to investigate.

*Ding-a-ling* the bell above the front door tinkles, indicating a customer has entered. She looks up and flashes a small greeting smile at a man, mid 30s, average build, short black hair. He is wearing a yellow tie. His polite smile in return lingers a bit too long for her comfort. Flustered, she takes a long sip of her coffee to fill the awkward space. He makes his way to the history section, and she turns back to her discovery.

The book is bound in dark leather. It has an interesting texture, almost as if it is embossed with throbbing veins running up and down the cover. She gingerly opens to the first page. The script looks like Latin, but it has some words that don't look familiar and she cannot place what civilization may have created it. She carefully turns a few more pages, being sure not to bend the paper. More of the unidentified writing occupies the righthand page, while the left has a very detailed illustration of a man's penis and testicles ejaculating a thick stream of semen directly into a woman's open mouth, a look of ecstasy on her face.

A surprised laugh escapes her lips. If it wasn't so clearly ancient, she would think this book was created as a joke. Hell, maybe it still was even if it was thousands of years old. Doing her best to recall her courses in Latin, she sounds out the large words at the top of the right page. Whispering them aloud, they feel thick in her mouth. She says them again and feels the phrase linger as it drips off the tip of her tongue. The air around her hums gently. She repeats the series of syllables with different enunciation, swishing them around in her mouth, trying to understand what she is experiencing.

"Aaagh..." her concentration is broken by a sound behind her.

Turning her head, she sees the man with the yellow tie. Or rather, she sees the pink tip of his throbbing penis inches from her face, close enough to see a dribble of precum. He has a vacant look on his face as he strokes himself, clearly about to climax.

"What the fuck!" She screams as she attempts to dodge out of the line of fire.

The first rope of cum erupts from his cock and connects with her right cheek and draws a line down to the center of her chin, bridging the gap of her peach-colored lips. The second burst misses her and lands on the illustration in the book. The third spurt lands on the shoulder of her light brown cardigan, remaining connected to the tip of his penis by a thin strand.

"W-what happened?" Says Yellow Tie, snapping out of a daze, blinking as if he had just awoken from a nap.

The scene before him registers and he quickly pulls his pants up and rushes out of the building, looking bewildered and frightened.

The librarian hurries to the bathroom, contorting her lips out like a duck to avoid the cable of semen entering her mouth. Breathing quickly through her nose, the musky chlorine smell of jizz fills her nostrils. She looks in the mirror at the thick rope of sticky sperm clinging to her face, then carefully wipes it off with a paper towel, checking to be sure she got it all. The semen on her shoulder has already soaked into the fabric creating a dark brown line.

She looks into her own eyes in the mirror, breathing slowly to calm herself. Her nipples are visibly hard under her shirt.

What the fuck had just happened? What is that strange book? Had it hummed with power when the man's semen had landed on it? And why does she feel strangely invigorated? Her mind is swimming with questions.

The initial shock of being ejaculated on begins to wear off and the mystery of the book swallows her mind. It is a puzzle to solve. She closes up the library a few hours early and hunkers down to do some research undisturbed.

She gathers up an armful of reference books, Classical Latin, Pagan Ritual Magic, Ancient Fertility Rites, any book that seems like it could shed some light on the mysterious book. Not much luck. Some of the Latin script is decipherable but it is a strange dialect unknown words.

"Source of power"... "to extract"... "nut" or "seed" are a few she can make out.

One of the words on the page opposite the illustration seemingly translates to "grip."

Is the book saying that one needed a source of power to extract... something? Or extraction is a source of power? And what does grip mean, a handjob? More questions swirled in her mind.

The rising sun begins to peek through the eastern windows and the librarian awakens from a deep sleep, collapsed at her desk in the library. She raises her head and looks around, then down at the book. The large ejaculating penis diagram had been her pillow, her head resting in the same place as the woman greedily gulping down the generous cascade of jizz. Closing the book quickly, she decides she will do her best to keep her mind off of it today. Breakfast is what she needs, realizing suddenly she is starving. There is a small cafe a few blocks away, just past the old church.

On her way there the construction crew hollers at her again.

"Same clothes? Didn't go home last night, huh?" Said the short one.

"Ooh, wild night!" Yelled the tall one.

"Why don't you come home with me next time?" Said the muscular one.

She does not want to be noticed and just keeps her head down, walking as quickly as she can muster. As uncomfortable as it still makes her, she detects an extra hint of desperation in their catcalls, a longing and a loneliness.

The cafe has a few patrons sitting at tables, sipping their lattes, reading the paper or tapping away on a laptop. The barista behind the counter is an attractive young man, early twenties. The librarian orders a hazelnut latte and a croissant sandwich, which he hands to her with a smile. She takes a different route back to the library to avoid seeing Short, Tall, and Muscles a second time in one day.

After eating, she opens up the library for the day. It is a sunny Sunday morning. Determined to keep her mind off of the book and the events of the previous evening, she gets to work indexing the rest of the books from the back room. However, the more time that passes, the more she cannot help herself. The feeling of intensity in the air as she had repeated those words was intoxicating. Seeing Yellow Tie's hard cock ejaculating semen directly at her had been upsetting at first, but the idea that she had somehow compelled it is now very intriguing.

It is just past noon, she needs another cup of coffee. Her favorite mug has an image of a library cart and says "This is how I roll." She puts a pod in the machine and makes herself a cup, then sits down at her desk where the book still lies. Peering around the library, in between shelves, she sees there is only one customer currently. He has a flannel button up shirt, dirty blue jeans, and work boots. She notices a large brass belt buckle that she imagines is a big part of his personality. His dark brown hair is cut short. He is not ugly, and his ruggedness has some appeal, but he is not her normal type.

The pages stick together for a moment as she reopens the book to the same page. She reads the words in her mind, even without speaking them they are a real mouthful. Her focus centers on the phrase, and she watches through the bookshelves from behind him.

*Clank* she hears the belt buckle unfastening.

*Ziiiip* his blue jeans rustle.

Her view is obstructed by books as he walks toward the end of the aisle. As he emerges, she can see him stroking his erect penis with one hand, his belt buckle dangling to one side. He reaches the desk and she is impressed by the sight of his cock up close. The head is so smooth and defined, veins stand out along its length. Her mind repeats the ritual words automatically now, she can practically hear them, the room is buzzing around her.

How hard and warm would it feel in my fingers? she finds herself wondering, yearning.

To her surprise the Belt Buckle man stops stroking, his hands hang limply at his sides. Has he stopped because of my thoughts? She reaches out and gingerly wraps her slender fingers around his girth. Her thumb and middle finger can only just touch. She manipulates it up and to either side, admiring the dimensions. It was indeed hard to the touch, and hot, there was so much heat radiating off of it. Slowly, she works her hand down and back up its length, her fingers sliding over the taut, smooth skin. His heartbeat making the tip pulse in her grip. She is swimming in the sensations engulfing her, the air brimming with electricity, humming, this massive hard on pointing directly at her as she strokes it faster.

Her inner voice is screaming the book's incantation in her mind; pleasureful, internal moans that drown out all other sounds. Her hand almost has a mind of its own, massaging him in a fast steady rhythm. She bites her lip without noticing. Glancing up at his vacant face over the top of her glasses, she feels his cock start to twitch. Not thinking much about it, she quickly grabs her coffee mug and aims his hard on towards it to avoid a mess all over her desk.

Pulsing with pleasure, the first eruption of thick, hot, white cum hits the coffee with enough force to splash a few drops out of the mug. Wave after wave of creamy sperm rockets into her coffee. After several blasts, the last few dribble out with less force, and she finds herself milking out every last drop, shaking the tip to be sure.

Belt Buckle has a glazed look on his face, one of distant ecstasy and complacency. He doesn't move from the spot next to her desk.

*Ding-a-ling* the bell above the door rings.

Shit, a customer, this guy can't be seen with his cock out at my desk she panics.

To her shock, he immediately pulls his pants up and ducks into an aisle. She hears the buckle refasten and she slams the book shut just as a man walks up to her desk.

"What did you do to me yesterday?" He whispers aggressively, he is clearly agitated.

"I'm sorry, what are you talking about?" She says, confused.

Then it hits her, this is the man with the yellow tie. The man who had ejaculated on her the evening before. Flustered, she looks for something to give her an excuse not to speak for a moment. Without thinking about it, she grabs her coffee mug and takes a deep gulp.

Instantly, she tastes the strong flavor of Belt Buckle's thick cum. Her eyes close, the texture lingers on her tongue before sliding down her throat. An intense rush comes over her, she feels the sensation of freshly sawn timber, sawdust on the floor, the smell of pine. She feels the shape of Belt Buckle's soul, he must work with wood. She finds herself able to explore his essence, to poke and prod it, to caress it. She reaches out with her mind and he opens to her immediately, there is no resistance. He is willing to let her in and give up control. He wants to feel good and feel wanted, and she had given him that already.

She comes back to her senses and Yellow Tie is now yelling.

"I confessed to the priest today that something made me do that in public and he said you were a WITCH!" He screamed.

Classic Christianity, always the woman's fault, she thinks.

"I don't know what you're talking about, you're lucky I didn't call the police for what you did in here yesterday." She says indignantly.

I wish he would just leave, I do not need to deal with this on top of everything else going on right now she pleads in her mind.

To her shock again, Belt Buckle emerges from the aisle, as if in response to her wish.

"The lady would like you to leave sir. Doesn't wish to speak t'you at this time." He nods his head at Yellow Tie as he speaks.

"Who is this? Have you done something to this man too?" Yellow Tie asks, exasperated. "Are you bewitched?" He asks Belt Buckle.

"No sir, I just need you to leave now" says Belt Buckle. He advances towards Yellow Tie.

"Ok, I'm going, I'm going!" Says Yellow Tie, backing up. "But this isn't over!" He points a finger at the librarian as he says this, then turns and exits the library.

The librarian looks at Belt Buckle, trying to process everything that just happened. Then she looks down at the book.

The translation of that heading isn't "Grip" -- it's "Thrall."