Copyright oggbashan October 2021
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.
–
My girlfriend Cassandra is a witch. I should really say ‘My EX-girlfriend Cassandra is a witch’.
I liked Cassandra, but her sex drive was and is far more demanding than mine. She wanted sex several times every night and her demands were affecting my health and stamina. I am a competent amateur distance runner with my normal race distance being 1500 metres, I am the county champion and until Cassandra I had hopes of being the regional champion, perhaps the British champion and might even have been good enough to represent the UK at the Olympics — until Cassandra.
Cassandra’s sexual demands affected my running. While with her, my running times consistently slowed by half a minute, and that is disastrous in 1500 metre running. I needed to do better than my previous best times, and I couldn’t even match them.
We were sharing a rented flat and Cassandra wanted sex, several times, every night. She went to the meetings of her coven on Friday evenings and afterwards she was even more insatiable. Saturday mornings, and I do most of my competitive running on Saturdays, I was shattered.
I didn’t object to Cassandra being a witch. Most of her previous boyfriends had been unbelievers or uninterested which led to the break-ups because Cassandra saw being a witch as an important part of her.
I was willing to support her and sometimes she experimented with her witchcraft on me — usually spells that affected my perception so I might find myself seeming to be only a foot high, or seeing Cassandra appear as Marilyn Monroe or a Greek Goddess. Since I knew they were illusions and not harmful, I didn’t object when I had agreed first. But in the last few weeks before we broke up Cassandra had become increasingly annoyed with my lower sex drive. She had been using spells, without telling me, to enhance my need for sex, and as a result I was even more exhausted on Saturday mornings. After I had to withdraw from running at two important events, I confronted her, and she admitted she had been using spells on me. One thing led to another and on the Sunday, I moved out, temporarily back to my parents while I looked for a place for myself.
Because Cassandra and I had been sharing the flat costs, I, and she, had built up enough deposits to but small places with a mortgage. It took me three months, and slightly longer for her, but we were buying our own small flats. We hadn’t seen each other in that time. We knew what was happening through mutual friends who thought we ought to get back together.
I collected the keys to the flat on Wednesday evening. I had taken Thursday and Friday off work to furnish the flat. I hoped to be reasonably straight by the end of Sunday.
On Thursday I moved into my new flat I had help from my younger relations. I had been given some hand-me-down furniture from other relatives and had a pile of flat-pack boxes to unpack and assemble. For the first night, until my new bed would be delivered tomorrow, I would be sleeping on a bed settee handed down from my uncle and aunt who had used it for their recently deceased dog. I had vacuumed it several times, but it still smelled of dog. I was so tired I could have slept on the floor.
On Friday, with my brother Alan’s help, we assembled most of the flat-pack items. We still had some to be erected on the Saturday but that would be in the evening. I would be running on Saturday afternoon.
While I had been at my parents’ house, I had been missing Cassandra. Going from sex three, often four times, every night to nothing was a shock. I would have liked three of four nights a week and Friday off but that didn’t suit Cassandra.
I was missing Cassandra, not for the sex, but for the companionship and conversation. She and I had similar views. Neither of us was involved with any political party but we were both mild conservatives (with a small c). We would talk about events at work, what was on the TV news, what was in the newspapers. We rarely disagreed, and if we did, we might agree to differ instead of arguing about things that didn’t matter. If it hadn’t been for her sexual insatiability, I would have been happy to stay with Cassandra.
I couldn’t talk to my parents very often. Since I had moved our eighteen months ago, and Alan had married three years ago, their social life had taken off. They were out most evenings and generally only around during the day on Saturdays, when I was running. I was also doing all the overtime that was on offer because the costs of buying the flat would empty my back account.
The last payment for overtime had paid for the flat pack furniture and the new bed. Next month’s payday would see my bank account with a reasonable credit, but the overtime had come with a complete lack of socialising.
On Saturday afternoon I was pleased to have come close to my personal best in the 1500 metres. I was a few seconds short, but with practice, perhaps I might record a new best time this season. Back at the flat, my brother and I managed to complete most of the flat pack furniture. I might need more in the coming months as I could afford to buy them, but I could live comfortably with what I had.
It was a pain to assemble the new King-size bed because the bedroom was really too small for such a big bed. But I had found that making love to Cassandra in a standard size double was restricting. Now I had a suitable bed but no one to share it with.
After sharing a takeaway Chinese meal with Alan, I had showered and climbed into my new bed. I was asleep almost as my head touched the pillow but dreaming of sex with Cassandra.
+++
I woke with a start as a heavy body landed on the bed beside me.
“What?” I exclaimed.
“Who are you? How did you get in?” I asked blearily.
“Who am I, Roger? I’m Lilith. Cassandra sent me because she thought you might be lonely.”
“But how did you get in?”
I only had one set of keys for the flat. I was going to get duplicates cut during my lunch hour on Monday.
“That doesn’t matter. What I want is this.”
Lilith’s hand had found my erection and was squeezing it gently. “Come on, Roger. I need you to act, not just lie there.”
A few seconds later Lilith had pulled me on top of her and had fed my erection inside her. Her muscles squeezed. For the next few minutes, I was pounding up and down, trying to satisfy Lilith. Although I came, my erection didn’t subside. Lilith continued to buck underneath me. It seemed like she continued for hours, but perhaps it was only half an hour – and even that was too long when I was already spent.
Lilith demanded sex frequently and at length. Apart from the sleep I had had before she arrived, I doubt I had a whole hour free from her insatiable need. Lilith was far more draining that Cassandra had been at her most active. When I woke up, Lilith had gone and there was no trace of her except the disordered bed. I crawled out of bed and made myself breakfast. It was several hours later and after several cups of coffee that I began to wonder how Lilith got into my flat and how she had gone.
I checked. My front door was locked and bolted on the inside. I had been told that some of the neighbourhood had anti-social behaviour and low-level burglary, so I had made sure the front door was firmly closed and locked. If Lilith had left? How come the bolts on the only door were still in place? I couldn’t understand it. What I did know was that I was sore and exhausted. I continued erecting the few remaining items of flat pack furniture, but I seemed incredibly slow and clumsy. After a scratch lunch I went shopping in the nearby supermarket for food and for the few items of kitchen equipment I had forgotten that I had left with Cassandra. It wasn’t much, mainly cleaning cloths and what had been part-used liquids. The cost was a few pounds, but I needed them if I was going to keep my kitchen clean.
I was still puzzled by Lilith. She hadn’t said much except to encourage me to greater efforts. But when she arrived, she had said ‘Cassandra sent me’. How? Why?
I wondered. Cassandra is a witch and practises illusion. Was Lilith an illusion? I scratched my sore crotch. The effect of Lilith last night seemed much more than an illusion. Even when Cassandra had used illusions on me in the past, while experiencing them, I had the feeling that they were an illusion and that if I tried, I could see the reality. Lilith was nothing like that. She had appeared as solid, heavy and very demanding. Had Cassandra developed her skills as a witch? Previously she had only been able to affect me if I was in the same place as she was. If she could send Lilith to me, through a locked door at a distance of over a mile, Cassandra’s abilities must be vastly improved. If so, knowing that Cassandra was annoyed with me, what else could I expect her to do?
By lunchtime I decided I had to do something about Lilith. If she returned tonight, and every might, not only would I be shattered and useless the next day, but after a couple of weeks of the intensity of last night’s sex, I might be in hospital, or even dead. Lilith was so demanding and continued long after I was spent.
I didn’t ring Cassandra. Last time we had spoken it was our first real argument and both of us had said things we didn’t mean and should never have said. Instead, I sent a short text message:
‘Who is Lilith? And Why?’
Cassandra’s reply came with a few minutes:
‘Lilith is a sex-starved friend. I thought you would be lonely and missing the sex we used to have.’
“Lilith is much worse than ever you were. I’m shattered. Another night or two of Lilith and I might be in hospital.”
“I don’t think I can explain by text or phone, Roger. Are you in if I call around in a quarter of an hour?”
“Yes, if you don’t want sex. I’m far too sore.”
“OK, See you soon.”
+++
I made coffee for Cassandra exactly as she likes it. Why not? We had been living together for over a year. She likes her coffee to cool off before she drinks it so usually leaves it for ten minutes before drinking. It was just right when she arrived.
But she looked as shattered as I was. I put the coffee in her hands without a word. We sat down on the formerly dog’s bed settee as she drunk it. She passed the empty cup back to me, and I refilled it.
“You look awful, Cassandra,” I said.
“I feel it too. And so do you, Roger. Like you, I have been working all the overtime I could get, and I did twelve hours yesterday, starting with a hangover.”
“OK. But who is Lilith? That’s what you came to tell me.”
“I’m sorry, Roger. I, no we, were stupid. I was really annoyed with you after the coven meeting on Friday evening. Chloe announced her engagement and had brought some bottles of champagne to celebrate. I was moaning about my breakup with you and the reason that you didn’t want as much sex as I did. We were all drunk. That is no excuse, but we decided to act.”
“OK. S what did you do, and who is Lilith? Did to speak to her and send her around?”
“No. Far worse than that. Lilith isn’t a she. She’s an it.”
“An it?”
“Yes. We got together as a coven, even though we were drunk and started work. We raised Lilith. She’s a succubus.”
“A succubus? Isn’t a succubus supposed to make love incessantly until the victim dies? What had your coven done?”
“We decided you should know what real demanding sex should feel like — hence Lilith. But even though we were drunk we set a limit on Lilith’s activity of two nights only, last night and tonight. We thought that would be long enough and not be life-threatening.”
“Lilith is. I could scarcely get out of bed this morning. One night of Lilith was arse than a whole week of you, Cassandra.”
“Lilith was my revenge on you as a witch, Lilith supposed to teach you a lesson, but we shouldn’t have raised her. Once raised, we can’t control her.”
“So, I have to survive another night of Lilith? I might not.”
“I think you should but that’s one reason why I have come in person. If I stay the night with you, I might be able to stop Lilith going too far…”
“How?”
“You don’t want to know. But Roger and Cassandra should survive Lilith’s second night even if we might be shattered in the morning.”
+++
Cassandra went out to her car and got her overnight things. For the rest of the day, although Cassandra was apologising frequently for raising Lilith as her revenge, we were almost back to the relationship we had had before the break-up. I made an evening meal for us. Afterwards we were back on the dog’s settee bed with our arms around each other. We were both worried about a night with Lilith and we stayed up talking until after midnight.
+++
We had been side by side in bed for about half an hour when Lilith arrived with a thump on the mattress.
“Oh good,” Lilith said. “Two of you. Roger was shagged out by the end of last night, so It’s your turn first, Cassandra. You know what I am, so I’ll change, just for you.”
Before my disbelieving eyes, Lilith changed into a male shape, almost like a living version of a statue of a Greek God.
“And now I’m not the succubus Lilith. I am an incubus, Absalom.”
Absalom started pounding up and down on Cassandra with far more energy and force than I had ever managed. I was being bounced on the mattress by the force of Absalom’s thrust into Cassandra. After an hour, Cassandra was whimpering like an animal in pain.
I grabbed Absalom by the arm and said, forcefully:
“That’s enough, Absalom, or Lilith, or whatever you are. She can’t take any more. It’s my turn.”
“You will take her place?” Absalom sounded disbelieving. “It was her who summoned me, to have her revenge on you. Why would you protect her? It is her fault.”
“Maybe. But I love her, and she is suffering too much.”
“Even though she raised me?”
“Yes.”
“OK. If that’s what you want.”
Absalom changed back to Lilith. I nearly screamed as she fed my much-abused erection inside her. Her energy seemed incredible as she pulled ne deep inside her. She continued to squeeze and arouse me, long after my erection had gone. Eventually I slipped into unconsciousness.
When I woke again, Lilith was back as Absalom and riding Cassandra who was wailing in pain. I grabbed Absalom’s arm again and within less than a minute I was being abused by Lilith.
Until dawn, one or other of us was being sexually used by Lilith/Absalom. At dawn we woke up, shattered and very sore. We were so spent that both of us had to call in sick at work. We were barely able to stagger out of bed by noon to have cups of coffee and a light meal.
“Roger? You told Absalom you loved me,” Cassandra said.
“You heard that? I thought you were too far gone.”
“I was aware enough for that. Did you mean it?”
“Yes. That is why I called Absalom off you. You had given enough for me. That seemed like love to me.” “I suppose it was, and regret for starting a witch’s revenge. We shouldn’t have raised a succubus. She was far too dangerous.”
“But she’s gone now and we’re still alive — sore, battered, but still living.”
“And together, after sacrificing each of us for the other. Am I forgiven?”
Yes, Cassandra. But I still need some moderation in your sexual demands. Lilith was far worse than you ever were, but too much sex, even with you, was affecting my health.”
“OK, Roger. You win. I will try to be more considerate. Are we boyfriend and girlfriend again?”
“Yes, Cassandra. Surviving Lilith because we were prepared to protect the other has shown that we are still in love.”
++
And so it was. Cassandra moved into my new flat and with her saved deposit and two incomes we were able to buy it quicker and marry six months later.
Cassandra and her coven had had a shock. There was never again any attempt at a witch’s revenge. She might use some of her spells on me, but with my agreement. Lilith had gone.