Blinded

“To bring my brave boy unto my arms,

What need have I of magic charms—

‘Abracadabra!’ and ‘Prestopuff’?

I have but to wish, and that is enough.

The charms are vain, one wish is enough.

My master pledged my hand to a wizard;

Transformed would I be to toad or lizard



- Love and Black Magic by Robert Graves

---

I wake to the distinct sound of cawing crows and the feeling of a warm body embracing my own. There is this brief moment of blissful disorientation right after you wake up, wherein you have no recollection of anything: no memories, no feelings, no identity. Sadly, this tranquil state passes too quickly today and I am hurled back into a precise reality. I suddenly feel sick to my stomach as vivid images flood into my head. I move my leg slightly only to confirm that the pain below my waist is indeed real.

I somehow manage to snake out of his hold without waking him. I slip my underwear on carefully and tiptoe towards the bathroom in utter silence, as if eluding a sleeping dragon. When I get there I make sure to lock the door. But my sneaking is in vain, as I lose control and start to heave, vomiting into the toilet. I know I was loud enough that Charlie would probably hear - it seems there is really no such thing as maintained composure while vomiting. I wipe my mouth after I finish, my hands are shaking. I hear knocking.

“Baby? You okay? What’s the matter?”

“Uhh… I’m pregnant?” That’s right. Humor always masks pain. You keep telling yourself that.

“Come on, open the door. I wanna know you’re okay.” I hesitate of course, but I end up unlocking the door, although I back away defensively. He enters, approaching me out of what seems like concern. I’m actually trembling - and it’s not because the tile pressed against my back is cold as ice. I don’t want to look at him. I don’t want to look at his face. I don’t want to look at his eyes. I feel his hand on my face – its warmth is deceitful.

“What the matter? Are you sick? Tell me...”

I have trouble composing myself, the natural order of words escapes me. Sex shouldn’t feel like that. Even when I lost my virginity, it wasn’t like this, wasn’t this painful. I took a deep, shaky breath, but my eyes still kept their distance from him.

“Last night… I told you to stop…why didn’t you stop Charlie? You just put your hand over –“

“Well it’s been a while since you’ve been fucked so it’s bound to be a little painful. It’ll go away.” A little painful? Perhaps this isn’t the same person as last night?

“It fucking hurt.”

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again. I’ll go slowly next time, kay?” He hugs me tightly, as if everything is okay now. He looks, smells and feels the same, but I’m not sure this is the Charlie I met a week ago. This could be some sinister doppelganger.

“Please forgive me baby, I… I don’t want to lose you. You know how much you mean to me, right? I’m really sorry…so sorry” He makes me look at him, at his eyes. They seem sincere enough. I know I could get lost in them. They, along with that smile, are the sources of his charm – a power to induce forgetfulness. Charlie the Magician.

He kisses me deeply. It feels good. His hands run up and down my back comfortingly. I start to relax. The details of last night begin to fade, to soften, and reason is temporarily put to sleep. His hand is now in between my legs, underneath my boxers, fondling my sex. I let him touch me, dangling my arms around his neck. He frees it from the cloth, stroking it at a steady pace. I’m huffing hot breaths onto his neck, looking down at what he’s doing. I’m close.

“I’m gonna –“

He stops touching, my cock twitches but doesn’t release its seed. “Shhh, not yet…I want you to feel really good.” After a pause, he starts to fondle me again, edging me towards a possible orgasm, but just stopping short. His expert hand repeats this lovely torture several more times.

“Ready?” I don’t even need to utter a response. His hand jerks me quickly, pointing my cock towards the full-length mirror in his bathroom. “Yeah…cum… come on….”

I scream as I orgasm – it’s the good kind of scream – and shoot my ample load all over the mirror. The pleasure is intense enough to blunt the past pain. I stare at his reflection with low, lust-filled eyes, as my semen runs down and obscures the picture. I lay back against him in limp euphoria. He whispers in my ear, that way it’s only between us in this otherwise empty room.

“I love you.”

I believe him. Charlie would never lie to me.