The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotica (72 page)

She dragged herself back to reading the directions. Well, skimming them, really. Her eyes were drawn to the new vibrator that she’d picked up at the same store where she got the kit. Maybe
she should just take a little of the edge off before she got started. Wouldn’t want to give the whole thing too much of a kick, after all.

But the directions in the little pamphlet said, “Be sure and work your magic when your desire is clearest in your mind. This will give your spell extra potency.” Well, she needed all
the potency she could get, judging by how far she’d gotten with Lena on her own.

So she thought hard about Lena instead and Lena’s beautiful, full breasts, while she lit the candles. She closed her eyes and pictured a hardened nipple in her mouth while her hips
squirmed against the chair. She opened her eyes and sprinkled the herbs in a circle around the candle, then put the big quartz crystal in the middle for better focus.

She took a deep breath, trying to get in touch with her inner love goddess, the one who would be unleashed when she was done casting the spell. She tried putting the faces of various women onto
the mental picture that she had formed, but the goddess kept turning into Lena. Come to think of it, the teashop owner would make a fabulous earth mother type goddess. Kerry gave a rueful smile
down at the crystal; she had it bad.

Let’s get this done already, she admonished herself. She looked at the chant in the booklet and mumbled the words a bit cautiously: “Holy Aphrodite, help me to be the goddess I know
I am. Help me to find and keep love in my life. Let the love in my bosom find its way out to bring my love to me.”

The “love in my bosom?” Really? It had to be some kind of mistranslation or a printing error or something. Shouldn’t it be “love in my heart” or something like
that? That would make more sense, at least to her non-goddessy way of thinking. It certainly didn’t seem to be working the way it was written, at least not as far as she could tell. She read
it aloud a few more times, sometimes substituting “heart” for “bosom” in case it helped.

But thirty minutes later she was feeling cranky and tired and not a bit like a goddess. Maybe it was her Presbyterian upbringing that made her too strait-laced for this sort of New Age thing.
She blew out the candle, ignoring the part in the directions where it said to let it burn itself out in a fireproof container. She swept the herbs into the trash and very nearly sent the crystal
with them. But it was too pretty to just toss away so she put it on the bookshelf instead.

Then she washed her hands and went out to go shopping. Sort of. She did manage to buy some groceries before her steps led her past the teashop. She just lingered on the sidewalk outside though
instead of going in to drink a half dozen cups of tea like she usually did on Saturdays. The thought of Lena in all of her unattainable glory was too much to bear today. She made herself walk away
after one longing glance or two.

By the time she got home, she wasn’t feeling very good. In fact, she could barely keep her eyes open. Maybe her inner goddess was a germ pool. She grimaced at the thought as she took a hot
bath. But even that didn’t help much. Finally, she gave up and went to bed early.

Once her head hit the pillow, she was out like a light. Her dreams were strange, filled with visions of an ancient temple and dancing acolytes. She even danced with them, at least at first. Then
the temple priestesses showed up and started dancing, each movement slow and sensuous and erotic beyond words. At some point in the dance, each priestess embraced a worshipper and Kerry’s
dream got a lot hotter and wilder.

She thought about joining in and finding comfort and release with a cute priestess on one of the reclining couch-like things that lined the room. But something turned her away to look at the big
statue in the middle of the temple instead. It was a goddess, her face serene and powerful. There was something odd about her body, though, and Kerry stepped closer to try and figure out what it
was. At that moment, the statue turned and looked at her, stone lips parting in a big smile and a peal of laughter that echoed like thunder through Kerry’s head.

The sound rolled her out of that dream and into another. Now she was dancing for Lena and taking her clothes off slowly, just like one of the temple priestesses. First she dropped her skirt,
then she started unbuttoning her blouse, her movements slow and sure and sensual. Her shirt dropped away and she went to unfasten her bra, only to find that she wasn’t wearing one. Instead
her hands felt glorious handfuls of sensitive flesh as she caressed her rib cage.

Clearly it was too much for Lena, at least in her imagination, and she stood up, tugging her own clothes off impatiently. Her beautiful breasts spilled out and Kerry danced up to her to cup them
in eager hands and searching mouth. Lena’s hands caressed her, moving swift and sure over her body, igniting her nerve endings with every movement.

That was when Kerry glanced down and realized that something had changed. Her small breasts were right where they should be, but they had company. Trailing down her torso and even her back as
she glanced around in amazement, were breasts of all sizes and colors. There were breasts with big nipples and breasts with tiny ones. Large and small, perky and droopy, each one sang to
Lena’s touch until Kerry thought she’d faint.

That was enough to propel her awake, the wet space between her legs aching for release. She stuck her hand down into her pajamas, manoeuvering around the blanket which seemed to have gotten
fuller and downier since the night before. Her restless fingers found her clit and she rubbed hard, dragging the little bundle of nerve endings around in a tiny circle for a moment or two before
she found fiercely bucking release.

She lay there gasping, eyes still closed for a moment. Then she pulled her hand from between her legs and stretched her arm out with a big yawn. She shook a little from post-orgasm tremors, the
sensation making her smile. And the memory of her dreams made her smile even more.

She opened her eyes and reached over to turn the alarm clock so she could see the time. It was still too early to get up so she decided to lay around for a while longer. But her back ached for
some reason. She arched herself up against the bed, trying to stretch out, but it wasn’t helping. That was odd. She stretched a slow lazy hand around to reach beneath her and feel the
mattress. Her back felt . . . weird, through her pajamas.

Alarmed, she shoved her hand up her top, connected with something soft and sensitive, and yelped as a quick pain filled her. She yanked her hand out and sat up, trembling fingers undoing her
buttons. Even sitting up felt strange, like there was more of her body than there should be. Maybe she’d been sleep-eating, she thought hopefully.

The last button opened and her top flopped loose as she stared downward in disbelief. Her torso was covered in breasts, just like in her dream. She got slowly out of bed and walked over to the
full-length mirror on the closet door. Her hand fumbled for the switch as she dropped her pajama top to the floor.

They were all still there, cascading from just under her shoulders down to her waist. She turned slowly and they swung gently with her movements. Her back was covered as well: small and large,
triangular and conical, nipples tiny and huge. Some were gold-toned, others blue-black, while the rest were in shades of brown and beige and pink.

She touched all the ones she could reach, fingers moving slowly and carefully over them all, her brain spinning in disbelief. How could this have happened to her? She must be still dreaming,
that was it. And if she wasn’t, she needed help and lots of it.

She stepped up closer to the mirror and examined her face, looking for some sign that she was still asleep. But she looked normal, in a serene goddessy sort of way. She wondered why she looked
serene. This was insane. It just wasn’t normal to wake up and find out that you’d turned into . . . whatever she had turned into. She reached into the bookcase for a book on
women’s spirituality that she had left over from a long-ago class. She’d never bothered to open it before but if there was ever a time to learn more about goddesses, this was it.

It took a few minutes until she found what she thought she might be looking for when she ran across the photo. A familiar stone goddess stared back up at her, breasts or something like them
adorning her entire torso. She looked at the caption: “Artemis of Ephesus”. But wasn’t Artemis supposed to be all virginal, at least as far as guys went? There was an echo of
laughter from somewhere that faded away as soon as she tried to listen for it. She remembered her dream about the temple and her pussy clenched just a little more.

Still, she forced herself to try and ignore it while she went on skimming the book. But it was no use. It was as if some force greater than herself was taking over her body, humming a siren song
of lust and desire that made her bones vibrate. She wanted sex and lots of it.

By the time she flipped the page to the section on the cult of Cybele and her sacred prostitutes, she was ready to take on all worshippers, her thighs slick with wanting. She dropped the book
and stared at herself in the mirror. After all, she was beautiful now. She just had to see her new body the right way. She stretched out, hands high over her head and all of her new appendages
swayed slowly with her.

The feeling was unbelievable. She lowered her hands and brushed her palms over what seemed like acres of nipples that hardened under her touch. Her desire was manifesting in a small stream down
her thighs as she gave her reflection a voluptuous smile. Her fingers pinched a mismatched set of breasts, sending a light pang through her that had her reaching for her vibrator.

It hummed on and she smiled at herself. Of course, she had to be imagining all of this, but why not have fun with it before she had to go back to real life? She ran it on low over a few of her
breasts and found herself with hips spread wide and pussy thrust out at her reflection. Her back arched and she ran the vibrator lower and lower until she had it between her thighs.

Then she turned it on high and pressed it to her clit. The first orgasm shot through her and her knees buckled, sending her to the carpet with a muted yell. She grinned at herself as she slipped
the vibrator inside her, sending tremors up through every nerve ending she possessed, new and old. She watched her reflection as the next orgasm built inside her and wished for a moment that
she’d grown a few extra arms to play with her body. Her new breasts swayed slowly and sensuously with her movements, brushing up against each other until she came again, collapsing on the
carpet as her trembling legs gave out.

When she could stand up again, she raised her arms above her head and twisted them in a sinuous snakelike movement. Her hips swung around, rocking like a bellydancer’s, even though
she’d never learned how to bellydance. She began to dance, feet gliding over the carpet and movements sure and slow and unbearably sexy.

As she drew in a deep breath, she imagined that she could feel the world around her, the other tenants in their apartment building, the animals in the park down the block. All of them were
rutting and lusting and humping. The wave of pure desire and sensation swept over her, filling her.

Best to go and find Lena and do what she’d wanted to do since she’d first seen her two years ago. For a moment, she almost turned and walked out the door just as she was. She felt so
powerful that she could only imagine that everyone who saw her would simply worship her with whatever celebration of desire they wished. Her mind filled with a picture of city streets filled with
naked, writhing bodies, of trees filled with copulating birds and beasts. It was intoxicating.

But some little part of her was jumping up and down to get her attention and turning her toward the closet instead of the door.
You’ll get arrested,
said the voice of non-goddessy
Kerry. Maybe she had a point. For all that she felt powerful, she wasn’t sure that she could do anything more than enjoy sex more than usual and imagine others doing the same. It probably
wouldn’t cut it with the police.

She stared mournfully at her wardrobe, feeling less powerful by the minute as she wondered what if anything, she owned could possibly cover all of her new body. A bra was out, clearly.
She’d never been one for baggy shirts so it took some digging back into the soon-to-be-discarded sections of her clothes to find something that came close to fitting.

As it happened the poet’s shirt she found was ample and flowing and silky. She slid it on over her head and let the fabric caress her skin. In a minute, she was wet and aching as if she
hadn’t already come several times this morning already. She made herself pull out a pair of loose-fitting pants instead of going back to bed. Who knew how long this would last? She’d
better go see Lena now before it all faded away.

She gave one last spin in the mirror, checking to see if her breasts were too obvious. Fortunately, they packed together well under the shirt, making her look globular rather than lumpy. She
smiled at her reflection and it smiled back, its expression a faint echo of the temple statue’s. It would all be all right.

With that thought uppermost in her mind, she swept out of her bedroom, only just remembering to put on shoes and a light jacket. Then the city outside hit her hard, overwhelming her for the
first few moments that she stood on her doorstep.

Her mind was filled with the sensation of cold hard brick and stone, the rush of cars, the angry speed of the streets. She forced herself to walk down her steps and place her hand on the skinny
tree in front of her apartment building. Then she closed her eyes, trying to find the same sensation of power and connection that she’d experienced in her room.

After a moment, it was back: the rutting desire of a city filled with want and passion. She smiled to herself and began walking down the street, her steps leading her to Lena’s. Behind her
the tree grew several feet upward, its trunk thickening perceptibly and buds sprouting on its new branches.