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Message-ID: <52700asstr$1135728601@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Frank McCoy" <mccoyf@millcomm.com>
Reply-To: mccoyf@millcomm.com
Subject: {ASSM} <*>NEW: MIDAS.TXT "Midas" MF+, NC, MC, Magic, humor)
Lines: 251
Date: Tue, 27 Dec 2005 19:10:01 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


                             Midas
              (Originally posted as: "The Wizard")
                         An Erotic Story

     Today was the day.  I had been studying The Book for months 
now; and I THOUGHT I had everything down pat.  Magic is only as 
good as the person doing the spell or following instructions; 
just like engineering.  Make one tiny slip, and a spell will not 
only unravel; but the energy invested and saved-up to make it 
work could turn around and kill you.  That one time I had been 
caught in a loop until Mandy opened the door and accidentally 
knocked over the lamp, still gave me shivers.  The resulting fire 
and damage had been a quite minor payment to make for not being 
careful.  Ah well.  This was the price I had to pay for not 
having a proper Teacher in the Arts, only a Book whose 
instructions were arcane and often indecipherable.
     But TODAY, I was certain I'd dotted every 'i' and crossed 
every 't'.  Carefully I gathered up my paraphernalia and headed 
out the door to the local Burger Barn.  I double-checked my list 
one last time to be sure I had everything.  Getting caught THERE, 
without some vital ingredient, would be disastrous, to say the 
least.
     Getting out the door carrying a small brazier (no, not a 
woman's support, but a three-legged brass support to hold a fire) 
six bottles, two sticks of incense, charcoal, fluid, matches, 
paper with the spells written on it (I didn't trust bringing The 
Book along, in case of complete disaster) and more plain JUNK 
necessary for each of the three major spells involved, was quite 
an operation in itself.
     I was almost sabotaged when my landlady slammed her door 
open almost in my face, and headed up the stairs I had just came 
down.  Thankfully she didn't ask about the junk I was carrying, 
or I might never have made it out the door.  As it was, I almost 
smashed the bottle of essence I was carrying.  If that had hit 
the floor instead of being grabbed as it dropped, I would have 
had to start all over.  Last time it had take three whole months 
of capturing and distilling my essence into a potable liquid.  Of 
course, twice the stuff was completely undrinkable; and another 
time it had turned solid.  Hopefully that was all past now; and 
from this time on I could do better.
     By the time I had walked the two blocks to the burger 
factory, I was panting.  Stuff like THIS, trying to hold onto 
twenty things at once. they never mention in The Book.  No wonder 
mages in stories, movies, and such junk always wore big heavy 
robes ... they NEEDED something like that to carry their 
paraphernalia in!
     I got to the Burger Barn; and immediately saw I was going to 
have to change my plans.  No way could I hold up or even slow 
down the traffic coming in to pick up stuff at the take-out 
window.  Somehow I'd have to let that continue.
     Gathering a deep breath, I set up the charcoal alongside the 
table nearest to the entrance, lit it, put the incense on to 
burn, and was ready.  Thankfully, nobody had noticed enough to 
stop the weird goings-on I made out there.  Carefully I brought 
the burning brazier in the doorway, set it down so the smoke 
started to curl in the immediate air, and then (glancing around 
self-concsiously) I spoke the words that impressed the spell of 
incense into being.
     The worst part of doing spells like this, is there isn't the 
faintest hint of whether they worked, misfired, or did something 
completely wrong.  I'd just have to HOPE I did it right.
     Just then another customer (young lady with two little 
girls) came in, gave me and the burning tripod an incredulous 
gaze, then suddenly jerked as the smell of incense hit her 
nostrils.  After that, she just gave me a smile, which I 
returned, and headed into the interior; ignoring the funny man, 
burning tripod, and funny smell.  It had worked!
     I gave a sigh of relief.  As long as the incense burned and 
people coming in breathed the stuff, nobody would notice anything 
strange.  For that was what the spell was:  The words and effort 
put into the incense were essentially instructions that, 
"Everything is normal.  You won't notice anything strange.  Do 
what you normally do." or similar words.  They didn't exactly 
translate from the Language of Magic into English ... one of the 
problems I had with making sure I did the spell right.
     "Hey!  What are you?"  A brusque looking young man came down 
to accost me; looking annoyed at the funny thing burning in the 
doorway.  Now came the hard part.
     "STOP!" I commanded him; touching the boy's chest with the 
wand of compulsion I had prepared.  While not universal like the 
incense, it's effects were stronger, more immediate, and lasted 
for several hours.  THIS I had tested before ... once 
disastrously on my then-girlfriend.  Ah well ... If I did THIS 
right, I'd never need HER again.
     The person stopped, just like that.  I thought for a minute, 
then told him, "Take me to your supervisor."
     Released from the hold, the guy sneered down at me.  "I AM 
the supervisor here, Shithead," he told me.   Oops!
     I touched him again with the wand before he could pull away.  
I ALMOST made the mistake of telling him to, "Ignore me," and 
broke out in a cold sweat when I realized just how close it had 
been.  "Think of me as normal and belonging here," I instructed.  
Then changing my mind I added, "I'm now your supervisor; and 
everything I do is none of your business unless I tell you to do 
something."  I removed the wand and waited.
     The guy stared back at me until I realized I hadn't 
instructed him to do anything.  "What's your name?" I asked.
     "Jim," he replied.  I could see the complementary question 
die on his lips, as the "everything I do is none of your 
business" line sunk in.
     "Well, Jim," I told him, "Take me over to the person 
handling the take-out counter, introduce me, and then get back to 
work at whatever you were doing before I came in."
     Jim thought it over, it matched his world-view, and did just 
that.
     "From now on," I instructed the guy taking orders; putting 
the almost exhausted wand on his chest, "you will ignore whatever 
takes place out in the main or customer area of the store.  You 
will just keep taking orders and filling them, no matter what 
else happens in back of you."
     Again, an order that basically matched what he did every 
day; so no mental conflicts.
     I felt weak, my mind felt weak, and I was certain that the 
wand was almost exhausted.  Still, there was one more thing to 
do.
     Going looking for "Jim", I had him introduce me to each of 
the four other workers in the place; having HIM tell them to 
essentially ignore me, as I was doing something on company 
business.  THIS didn't use up the remainder of the wand.
     Once verified, the workers ignored me and continued serving 
customers; the two in the back continuing to make food, while the 
take-out guy and counter girl continued taking and filling 
orders.
     "Cindy?" I asked. (This time reading the name off her shirt, 
like I should have read it off the other two.)  The girl looked 
up at me, bright blue eyes and sexy young body ... THIS girl I 
decided I wanted as well.
     "Yes?" she asked, suspiciously.
     "Take this bottle, and put ONE drop in the drink of each 
customer that comes in," I instructed her, while touching her 
cheek with the wand.
     Cindy blinked, and I guess TRIED to resist.  "It's a new 
flavor that management is trying out," I explained, to ease the 
fight in her mind.
     "Oh.  Why the fuck didn't you SAY so in the first place?" 
she snarled; jerking the flask from me and almost spilling 
several precious drops.  Still I didn't argue, as that might have 
spoiled the whole thing.
     Then I vanished myself into the rear corner; not daring to 
be out in front when the effects took hold.
     I watched carefully until I was sure EVERY customer 
remaining at tables in the place had taken at least a sip, and 
all had come in since I put the brazier in place.  By now the 
incense had burned down so far I figured I'd better either do 
something quick, or get the hell out.
     "Thanks, Cindy," I told the gal up front as I took the 
almost empty bottle from her.  "That's enough for now.  You might 
want to try a sip yourself though.  It's really good, you know."
     Her original street-smart personality showing through for a 
second, Cindy almost sneered up at me.  "Why don't YOU take a sip 
first, Big Guy," she replied.
     Grinning, I took one of the adulterated drinks, and did just 
that.  No danger here for ME.  I already liked myself a lot.   
<Big shit-eating grin.>
     Seeing me take a big slug, Cindy sighed an "Oh what the 
fuck," sigh, and then took a big swig herself.  "Hey!" she 
murmured in surprise.  "It IS good, isn't it?"
     Well, it had BETTER taste good.  Enough experimentation time 
had been spent trying the thing with various drinks until it did.  
I just acknowledged the praise with a slight bow; bringing my 
body close enough to her that she could smell me.
     Cindy's eyes widened, her nose flared, and suddenly she was 
almost wrapped around my leg in blatant sexual invitation ... 
almost as if she was an over-horny dog trying to treat my leg 
like a bitch in heat.
     "Easy girl," I told her.  "Wait until we get home.  Just 
follow me out when I leave, OK?"
     "Whatever you say, Lover," she purred.  I could see she was 
already panting with sexual frustration.
     It WORKED!!!!
     With my essence in the drink, all those served would NEED me 
sexually ... so much so they'd follow almost any reasonable order 
to get me into bed.  Nothing self-destructive, of course, but 
from now on any previous lover, husband, boyfriend, or male 
companion of ANY kind would seem pale and insipid in comparison 
to the slightest indication I would be sexually interested in the 
person in return.  It had taken MONTHS to get this right, and 
FINALLY I was not only going to get laid (like my so-called girl-
friend hadn't) but I was going to have at least (looking around 
the store here) FIVE women panting to help me with every sexual 
desire.  I was in heaven, and hadn't even started.
     Wandering around casually, I stopped by each booth and 
touched the hand of every woman in the joint ... accompanied or 
not.  My pheromones on their own bodies would get to their noses, 
and that would be that.  "Follow me out," I whispered to each 
one; stopping the inevitable question or objection to being 
touched.
     "What was THAT?" bellowed one man; starting up out of his 
seat at my merely touching his wife.  I hurriedly left before 
hearing what she told him; merely knowing that it would be 
SOMETHING that allowed her to follow me out, while calming the 
man down so he didn't come after me with a knife or gun or 
something.
     By the time I got to the last table, there was only the girl 
with her two daughters, so I touched her and motioned to follow 
me while I gathered up the dying brazier and incense, and 
prepared to make my escape with my new sexual slaves.  I wasn't 
surprised when the two little darlings also followed ... and 
began wrapping themselves around me, one on each leg, in sexual 
heat.  While I'm NOT really a pedophile, I can see the attraction 
little girls have too ... and the essence of my pheromones was 
NOT specific to grown women.  So, if I had to service these two 
little darlings as well as the other five women (counting Cindy 
and their mother) well ... It's a tough job, but somebody has to 
do it.
     I was barely aware of the chain of people following me back 
to my apartment.  By morning, sexually satisfied, Cindy would be 
back at work, the mother would be home, the wife would be back 
with her husband, and even the little girls would be at home with 
pleasant memories.  However, from then on all I would have to do 
is ASK (and sometimes not even that) and any or all of them would 
be at my beck and call to do anything SEXUAL that I wanted.  
<Sigh.>  So far, (as far as I knew) it was only sexually that 
they were my slaves.  But for now, that was all I needed.
     Daydreaming about my new Harem following me home, I got the 
FIRST hint that not all was well in Paradise.  My landlady 
stopped me at the door, held a hand up, and STARTED to bitch, 
"Now wat' de fuck is all dat JUNK you got upstairs?  I ain't 
puttn' up wid DIS shit, for the measly rent you pay.  I trew out 
about hal ...."
     Oh shit!  Probably months of work, down the drain, just 
because this ugly old biddy ...
     Suddenly Mrs. Candoli's nostrils flared ... and the old 
biddy gave me an almost sickening smile from rotten teeth and 
chapped lips.  "Well now Honey Chile," she now spoke in an 
incredibly fake Southern accent, "a pretty boy like you shouldn't 
be all alone up there in that cold apartment.  Maybe I should 
stop up there and help you ... uh ... warm things up?"  With 
this, she batted her huge eyelashes in a parody of seduction that 
almost had me barfing on the floor.
     I made a mad dash for my room; now sickly certain the old 
bat had tasted some of my essence left in one of the bowls or 
"stuff" she had thrown out.  Thankfully I could see The Book was 
still there, as several people thundered up the stairs after me.
     As five sexy, pretty, and very horny women squeezed into my 
room (along with two cute and horny little girls) I suddenly 
realized the full extent of the calamity I had brought on myself.
     For there, following the women, was not only my bitch-in-
heat of a landlady ... but FOUR big burly men as well!  And every 
single one of the five had that same Magical sparkle of Lust in 
their eyes that all of the women did.  Oh shit!
     I groaned; knowing that only by completely, thoroughly, and 
exhaustively satisfying sexually EVERY SINGLE ONE of the people 
who had both taken my essence AND smelled my personal pheromones 
(all TWELVE people, including five oversexed women, the two horny 
little girls, all four lusty men, and the perverted THING that 
had been my landlady) would I be able to release them enough to 
return each one of them to whatever lives they "normally" lived.
     Oh shit.  I knew that Murphy would eventually get me.
     Not only that, but I didn't have a hard-on any more.

-- 
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