The Spell -- Part I
By Mark (Marknew742@aol.com)
Todds finds a spell to restore his wife to health


Todd Bartel had success written all over his face and all over the rest 
of his body as well.  Tall and solid at six foot one and two hundred ten 
pounds, he starred in three sports in college, football, basketball and 
track, and turned down offers from the Chicago White Sox and the 
Cleveland Browns to go into business instead.  At twenty six, he joined 
a small family investment firm as the first outsider to be appointed to 
a management post, and through hard work and clever investing, he was 
confident he would reach a senior position by the time he was thirty.  
To live the part he played required him to spend more than he earned, 
but he and his creditors were confident of his abilities, and Todd 
rarely went without the things he wanted. 

For many years, one of the things he didn't want was a wife.  As a savvy 
investor, Todd knew he was a great catch and a rising star and saw no 
reason to close a deal while his stock was still gaining in value.  
Throughout his twenties, he circled the field of available women, 
ascending higher and higher until he met Marta Cunningham Whitney, the 
niece of the president of his company.  She was sweet and beautiful, 
with a slim body and a pleasing tongue, the clear favorite of her 
childless uncle.  

Todd's research was very good on the politics of the match and the 
wealth of his bride.  Immediately, he became an insider at the firm, 
with a clear track to the executive suite.  Marta and he moved into a 
large estate, far north of the city, bought with a loan on Todd's 
expected bonus (Marta's money was in trust), and Todd looked forward to 
expanding his contacts with the exclusive set in which Marta traveled.  

There was an unfortunate flaw in Todd's research, a side of Marta he 
hadn't seen, hidden by the glittering surface of her manners and her 
family.  Quite simply, Marta was clever but weak.  She had easily 
learned the ways of her family and her social class, but she had no 
personal willpower, no force of personality.  She lacked the courage to 
face what life sent her, and used her money, her charm, and her family 
to protect herself.  Her family knew this well and shielded her.  They 
accepted Todd as a force that would take over the job for them in return 
for their acceptance.  But this was not the deal Todd had expected.  

He still wanted to conquer on his own, not to retreat into the cozy 
society world of the Whitneys.  He wanted Marta to launch him with her 
family's contacts and as he pushed harder and harder, she began to 
break.  Within six months of their marriage, her social drinking became 
steady drinking, her infrequent experiments with drugs became a regular 
habit.  She slept constantly, and fitfully.  Her carefully toned body 
became slack and drab.  Todd grew more and more frustrated, Marta more 
and more withdrawn.  And this is where our story begins. 

It was a Friday morning in December.  Todd's assistant Becky motioned to 
him as he entered the office.  "R.J. wants to see you right away.  He 
looks very serious.  You don't think ...?" 

Todd looked cross.  His eyes swept across Becky's prominent bust, 
watching the movement of that soft flesh under her blouse. He licked his 
lips absentmindedly and his face softened.  "No, no.  We're too careful.  
He probably wants me to explain to him again what a web browser is." 

"I feel so bad for you Todd."  She smiled at him, turning her wide 
shoulders slightly, and dropped her voice.  "You deserve more, Todd.  
You know that. You should have married a woman who's got a body with all 
the curves that count, not that little stick." 

She leaned back, while Bob ran his admiring eyes up her strong, sensual 
arms, ending at her bust.  "We've been through that, Becky.  You're 
wonderful, all a man would want, and more.  You know Marta's not well.  
Maybe..." 

Becky put a finger on his lips, flashed him another smile and sashayed 
out the door displaying her unique combination of muscular legs and 
round, active ass. 

Todd looked yearningly at Becky's form until she turned the corner, then 
waited until he was presentable again and made his way to the 
President's office. 

"Good morning Uncle Richard!" 

"Young man, I have just talked to Adrienne, and if what she says is 
true, you have a lot of explaining to do." 

"Uncle?  I, I thought you wanted to talk about Netscape." 

"That stuff again?!!  Heavens, this is much more important!  It's Marta.  
Have you seen her lately?  Of course you have.  That girl is a wreck.  
Adrienne says she's so weak she can hardly stand.  What in heaven's name 
have you done to her?" 

"Sir, if you'd let me explain...." 

"How could I trust you with a single dollar if my dear, dear niece is at 
death's door.  Your first responsibility is the family.  Do you hear?  
The family!  Now I don't want to see you or hear you until Marta is 
healthy and strong again.  You hear me?" 

"Yes sir.  You know, I've taken her to a doctor and he says..." 

"Don't bother me with details, boy.  Just do it.  She must be well.  Now 
go!" 

Mr. Whitney turned away and looked out the window.  Realizing further 
argument was useless, Todd left, striding quickly back to his office.  
Becky followed him in. 

"What's wrong?  Are you fired?" 

"No!  But I have to clear out of here.  The old man holds me responsible 
for Marta's weakness.  He says I have to make her better or else I 
better not show up for work.  What'll I do?  Send her away for a rest 
cure?  He'll make me go with her and I'll go out of my mind." 

Becky looked thoughtful.  "You poor boy.  This wasn't at all what you 
wanted."  She wiggled and eased her way into his lap.  "Now I've never 
been sick a day in my life, so I don't know a thing about doctors.  Why 
don't you call your friend Arnold?  He knows everybody in town.  He can 
probably find somebody to take care of your wife so you won't have to go 
away." 

"Arnold!  Great idea, Becky.  What would I do without you?" 

Becky laughed and rolled over, gripping his arms tightly and rubbing 
against his chest.  "Mmmm.  I really don't know, Todd.  You go home now, 
and I'll get Arnold to come out to your house later.  Maybe I'll see you 
around sometime."  She stood up abruptly and put her hand on her ample 
hip, pretending to pout.  "I do hope you come back soon.  I really don't 
want to work for a different boss, who might not appreciate me as much 
as you do."  She walked out. 

Todd looked longingly out his door, grimaced and packed up a few papers 
from his desk before leaving. 

When he returned home two hours later, Marta was lying on a sofa, 
watching soap operas.  Her face was pale, with black rings around her 
eyes.  She sat up to cough a few times, chest heaving with the effort, 
then settled back down into the cushions.  Todd heated a can of chicken 
soup and brought it inside. 

"How are you Marta?  I brought you something to eat." 

Marta bolted upright.  "Todd!  God, what a shock.  What are you doing 
home so early?  Is Uncle Richard alright?  Is the office closed?" 

"No.  I was worried about you.  I decided to take a little time off to 
help you get back on your feet." 

Marta collapsed back onto the sofa, then turned her head and looked at 
him quizzically.  "That's very kind of you, Todd.  Uh, is there some 
kind of trip you want me to take with you soon?  I really don't think I 
can make it, you know.  I have no appetite at all." 

"No.  I'm just concerned; that's all.  Have some soup.  Maybe this will 
get your strength back.  And we have to find you a new doctor.  I'm 
talking to Arnold about it this afternoon." 

Marta closed her eyes.  "I can't eat that Todd, and Dr. Brewer has 
always taken care of my family.  I'm not going to see some new 
specialist that your friend Arnold recommends." 

"Dr. Brewer isn't doing a damn thing for you!  Now you've got to do 
something for yourself and get better!" 

"Pardon me, Todd.  I won't be talked to that way.  Please take this soup 
away."  She looked at her watch and stood, unsteadily.  Oh well, I've 
missed the program.  I have guests coming later and I need to dress.  
Would you excuse me?" 

"But Marta, you're just fading away.  Whatever you're doing isn't 
working." 

Marta walked slowly by him toward her dressing room.  "I appreciate your 
sudden interest in my well-being.  I don't know what's wrong with me, 
but marrying you has not been very good for my health.  I am trying to 
continue my life as best as I can." 

"Continue it?  You're trying to end it!  I see your drugs around here, 
your drinks.  You never eat anything." 

"I'm depressed, alright?  I haven't bothered you about your fun, your 
nights with Arnold, your late nights at the office with that pumped up 
secretary of yours.  Please have the consideration to allow me my 
moments of happiness."  She looked at his frightened face.  "You are 
concerned about something.  Well, I did speak with my lawyers last week.  
You will have enough to live on when I die, so don't let that bother 
you."  She shuffled upstairs. 

Todd slumped in his chair.  This was turning out to be a disaster. In 
desperation, he called Arnold. 

"Where are you?" 

"I got delayed.  I'll be there in half an hour.  I got the name of...." 

"Forget it.  She won't see any doctors." 

"No?  Well, the only thing left to you is witchcraft and prayer, and I 
know you won't go to church." 

"Very funny." 

"So, you'll have to see Madame LaFarge." 

"Who?" 

"She's a witch.  Let her cast a spell on Marta.  Make her healthy again, 
in spite of herself.  Then you can get on with your life." 

"You're an asshole, Arnold." 

"I knew you'd say that.  She works on McDougal Street in the Village.  I 
figured this would happen, so I made you an appointment at nine tonight.  
Just go.  Worst thing that happens is you'll have a laugh and then meet 
Becky.  I'm turning the car around.  You'll thank me later, though.  For 
what it's worth, I hear she's for real." 

"Oh yeah?  How would you know?  Arnold?  Shit.  He hung up."  Todd shook 
his head.  A witch?  He went upstairs to check on Marta and found her 
sprawled on the floor, half dressed.  He tried to wake her, and finally 
succeeded after dragging her into the shower and drenching her in cold 
water.  He looked at her sadly, her pale, limp body slumped in the 
corner of the shower, eyes glaring at him. 

"You should have just left me alone." 

"Please Marta.  Don't talk like that.  I love you." 

Marta made a face.  "I don't think so.  I don't feel loved by you.  If 
you loved me, our marriage wouldn't make me sick." 

Todd looked at her glumly.  "If you won't go to a doctor, Marta, then I 
will.  I'm going into the city to see a therapist Arnold said may be 
able to help us.  I'll be back late." 

"What kind of doctor sees you on Friday night?  It isn't Doctor Becky, 
is it?" 

Todd shook his head and left.  Marta put her head back on the shower 
wall and went back to sleep. 

Madame LaFarge's meeting room looked like it had been transported 
directly from New Orleans.  Despite the cold, clear December weather, 
the air dripped with the heat, humidity and fragrance of the tropics, 
and small flies buzzed around each of the three dull lights over a 
heavily curtained window to the street.  Todd arrived a little early and 
sat alone for almost an hour until, fifty minutes late, an eccentrically 
dressed, middle-aged woman entered the room. 

"Ah, Mr. Bartel.  You have marital problems and problems at work, I see.  
You've come to the right place.  I must compliment you on your friend 
Arnold.  It usually takes years for my clients to find me.  Your 
situation has really not progressed very far." 

"Wait a minute.  How much has Arnold told you?  This is confidential." 

"Your friend told me nothing.  He set up an appointment for you, that's 
all.  I've been doing my own research.  You cannot hide anything from a 
witch Mr. Bartel, except for your thoughts.  We do not read minds, I'm 
afraid.  I will propose a course of treatment, gradual improvement in 
your wife's mental and physical health so that it is apparent that you 
are taking proper care of her, which will lead to your reinstatement at 
work.  This is what is truly important to you, is it not?" 

"Yes, but if you could do all that, why don't you just get me my job 
back." 

"We cannot work directly on the psychic properties of the mind, although 
we can improve its organic function.  Mr. Whitney has set a condition on 
your return.  Other than causing his death, which I am disinclined to 
do, I advise that the simplest course of action is to fulfill his 
wishes.  The rest I would leave to you." 

"I see.  Hmm.  While you're at it, why don't you make Marta more like 
Becky, you know, build her up a little." 

"You want me to give her a bigger bust?" 

"Not just that.  Becky is, you know, athletic too." 

"Of course that can be done.  You want your wife to be more of an 
athlete.  And if your model is your secretary, I assume you prefer more 
the Tonya Harding type to Nancy Kerrigan?" 

Todd smiled.  "I don't want someone who's going to break kneecaps." 

Madame LaFarge looked serious.  "You probably don't know this, but that 
Kerrigan girl arranged the whole thing.  It almost worked too, except 
for that Ukrainian." 

"Really?  Well, anyway, it sounds great.  Is that all I have to do?" 

"Yes.  Under our arrangement, if the satisfaction of your President's 
condition for return fails to achieve the desired result, I will take 
further action at greatly reduced rates.  As for your wife's body, well, 
you may trust me on that." 

"You said reduced rates.  What is your regular rate?" 

"What you require is fairly simple for me.  The price will be one 
hundred thousand dollars, cash in advance, which you will easily recoup 
once you return to work." 

"One hundred thousand?  You're crazy.  I came here on a lark, maybe to 
spend a few bucks, but you think I'm just going to give you that kind of 
cash?" 

"Most of my clients are more desperate than you.  Their fortunes have 
decayed further, yet they pay, and they get results." 

"Look, even I can tell this doesn't make any sense.  Why do you charge 
me?  If you're legitimate, why don't you just conjure up diamonds or 
cash?" 

"That would be distasteful to me.  We have our own code of ethics, which 
I have no need to discuss with you, but I will tell you that I do earn 
my pay and I do good in this world, which is more than I can say for 
many of my colleagues and for many of yours." 

"Well, show me some references.  How do I know you will really come 
through for me?" 

"I cannot do that.  I promise full confidentiality for my clients, and I 
always keep my word." 

Todd sat, alternatively raising his eyes to the ceiling, shaking his 
head, and looking to the floor.  "I can't come up with that kind of cash 
for this.  I just can't." 

"Bosh, Mr. Bartel.  You can margin securities, take out an equity loan, 
borrow on your charge cards.  There are always ways to get money.  
You've done that so well all of your life." 

"I meant I won't.  I won't go further into hock for this hocus pocus." 

Madame LaFarge shrugged.  "I see I am wasting my time.  Well, this 
probably will not help you, but my daughter has set up her own practice, 
a more modern practice," she added a bit scornfully.  "She will probably 
take you on for a fraction of what I would charge, but her methods are 
cruder than mine.  I won't guarantee her results." 

"What do you mean, cruder?  Will she be able to change Mr. Whitney's 
mind?" 

"Oh no.  She would never do such a thing.  She does cut corners, though.  
She has to do that if she's going to charge so little.  There are no 
free lunches Mr. Bartel.  If you like, I will send you to her office." 

"Sure.  What do I have to lose?" 

Madame LaFarge looked at him intently.  "I wouldn't dream of advising 
you on that question.  Her office is in midtown, in the theater 
district, of course.  She gets a lot of the tourist trade that way."  
She handed him an address.  "I am sorry we could not do business 
together Mr. Bartel.  Perhaps we will do so in the future.  Goodbye."  
She rose and left the room almost before Todd could stand. 

*** 

One hundred thousand dollars for a spell?  Well, this is turning out to 
be a different kind of evening.  Todd took a taxi to West 46th Street 
and entered a small brownstone building.  He saw a button for "Spells By 
Michelle" and pressed it, heard the buzzer unlocking the door, and 
walked upstairs.  He was surprised to see a very modern waiting area, 
with an attractive, gum-chewing secretary at a desk. 

"Isn't it a bit late for you to be open on a Friday night?" he asked 
her. 

"Our regular hours are 3:00pm to midnight, that's when we get the most 
street business, but we can arrange other times by appointment.  Are you 
a walk-in or do you have an appointment?" 

"My name is Todd Bartel.  Madame LaFarge said ...." 

"Oh yeah.  I just got a note to expect you from Miss Ford.  She'll see 
you right away.  Just come with me.  You want me to hang up your jacket 
or get you coffee or anything?" 

"No, I'm fine, thanks."  She escorted him to a conference room, where he 
waited, browsing through a pile of Sports Illustrated magazines on a 
rack.  Soon a trim young woman in a short black dress walked in.  Todd 
stood up and held out his hand.  She nodded and motioned for him to sit 
down. 

"Forgive me if I do not shake your hand Mr. Bartel.  It is 
unbusinesslike, but there are certain traditions in my line of work.  I 
am sure you understand." 

"I really don't even understand why I'm here talking to you, uh, Miss 
Ford?" 

"Michelle Ford.  I changed my name.  It was one of many breaks from 
tradition I allow myself.  Shall we get started?  Unlike my mother, I 
cannot afford much time for chit chat, due to my lower rates.  If it is 
alright with you, I will ask my assistant to join us to write up your 
order." 

"Before we do that, how much will you charge?" 

"I really cannot tell you until we complete the order.  The price 
depends on the number of units of magic energy I must use, but from the 
brief description my mother gave me, I will estimate seven thousand 
dollars.  We do take credit cards, Mr. Bartel, and we have a frequent 
user program I call the Spelling Bee which will provide credits for 
merchandise at many national chains." 

"I see.  And references?" 

"I cannot give you names, but I will provide you with several case 
histories that have been documented in newspapers.  Of course, the 
persons involved will deny they used witchcraft, but you would expect 
that, wouldn't you?  Ultimately, your best protection is your right to 
stop payment on your credit card if my spell is unsuccessful, but I must 
warn you not to exercise that right improperly.  I almost lost my 
Mastercard account because of one troublesome client, and I had to 
terminate that relationship, and the spell, prematurely.  In the end, he 
was not a happy customer, but by then it was too late to help him." "OK, 
let's proceed." 

"Good."  She pressed a button on the phone.  The secretary walked in 
with a laptop computer.  "Joan, please open Form 116." 

"Now, Mr. Bartel, we will complete the form together, Joan will print 
out the order and ask you to give her your credit card.  She will print 
the contract and charge slip for you to sign and then I will cast the 
spell.  It is as simple as that.  Are you ready?" 

"Yes." 

"Ok.  Please correct me if there is anything you wish to change.  You 
are married to the former Marta Cunningham Whitney.  Your wife is in 
failing health for various reasons.  Joan, check mental and physical 
deterioration.  You would like your wife to reverse these and make her 
healthier and stronger and, hmm, sexier, both for business and personal 
reasons.  You wish a gradual, rather than sudden, change.  You would 
like the changes to be apparent to an outside observer.  Joan, in box 13 
be sure to check visible alteration, not invisible.  Now, how long would 
you like the spell to operate?  Two weeks?  Three weeks?" 

"I don't understand.  I'd like it to be permanent." 

"Permanent?  That's unusual.  Joan, check box 16c and disclosure 163.  
Mr. Bartel, my contract contains extensive disclaimers and disclosures, 
which you may read before you sign.  Two that I always mention in the 
interview are that mortals are often unable to predict the consequences 
of the spells and that I do not guarantee results, only the 
effectiveness of my spells.  Are these understood?" 

"I'm not sure." 

Miss Ford sighed.  "At these prices, I do not have time to do the 
thorough research my mother does.  I do not know, or care to know, why 
you want me to cast this spell on your wife.  I will do it.  How that 
affects your life is not my responsibility.  Of course, if additional 
spells are required, I will do them for an appropriate fee.  I do not 
discount follow-up spells, however.  Quite the contrary, as these 
adjustments often take more work than the original.  Now your fee will 
be five thousand, five hundred dollars." 

"I'm impressed.  That's less than your estimate." 

"Don't be.  It is purely a function of the nature of your request and of 
the spell I cast.  A permanent spell requires only one discharge of 
energy, not two.  And there is a spell in the database that is simple to 
cast and will accomplish the task, although it does not appear to be 
used very often." 

"I don't understand." 

"Of course not.  You are the client, not the witch.  Are there any other 
questions?" 

"How quickly will this happen?" 

"I will cast the spell tonight.  You have requested a gradual change, so 
there will be some improvement each day, beginning tomorrow.  At this 
price, I do not fine tune the pace of change to my client's order, 
although for an additional fee, I would be happy to discuss this with 
you." 

"What kind of fee?" 

"Again, I can only estimate the amount until the work order is complete, 
but any spell containing other than one of the standard effect-forces 
requires a detailed examination of the subject and its surroundings, 
which I would perform from my office here.  Unless there are unusual 
forces at work, I would estimate twenty-five thousand dollars." 

"Wow!  That's several times the original price." 

"It is simply the difference between a standard product and one that is 
designed specifically for the client.  Shall we start on Form 320 then?" 

"The special one?  No.  That's too much for me." 

"Very well.  You understand Mr. Bartel, that the difference between my 
product and my mother's is simply that I charge for each service.  With 
me, you can choose the level of service you wish and you know at all 
times what the cost of each service will be.  Thank you Joan, the 
contract is ready Mr. Bartel.  Your credit card please?" 

"This is quite a detailed document." 

"I try to be thorough.  You may of course take it home and read it, or, 
if you want me to start tonight, you may sign it now." 

Todd glanced through it.  "Most of it is just these disclaimers.  I see 
them all the time in prospectuses.  If I paid attention to them I'd 
never buy anything.  Sure I'll sign.  The job is just as you've 
described it.  There's my name, address, Marta's.  Do I have to sign in 
blood?" 

Miss Ford rolled her eyes.  "I hear that one at least twice every night.  
No, a ballpoint pen will do.  Good.  Mr. Bartel, you must also sign here 
to consent to any physical changes in your wife made by the spell and to 
waive any liability on my part for personal injury or damage to property 
caused by such changes.  Thank you.  Please do not tell your wife about 
the spell."  She stood up.  "Thank you for your business Mr. Bartel.  I 
wish you the best."  She walked out. 

Todd turned to Joan.  "She sure is quick." 

Joan nodded.  "She's very efficient.  No small talk or nothing.  But she 
gets a lot of customers.  It's always busy here.  And you almost never 
see the same people either.  Always new ones.  That makes it 
interesting.  Ohh.  She's calling again.  Another job.  Nice to meet ya.  
You can leave by the back door." 

That was a quick five grand, almost six, Todd thought.  Damn.  I forgot 
to meet Becky.  She must have gone home by now.  I'll call her there. 

"Hello?  Becky?" 

"Who'd you think it would be?  Where were you, loverboy?" 

"I got tied up.  Can I come by?" 

"I'm tired.  Some of us have to work you know.  Your boss wants me to 
come in this weekend.  Call me again some time." 

"But Becky.  Damn.  She hung up."  He kicked the phone stand.  "This is 
just great!" 

Todd drove home, blasting the radio.  He pulled in after one and checked 
on Marta.  She was sleeping peacefully in her bed.  He covered her and 
went to sleep in his room. 

When he woke the next morning, Todd looked in on Marta.  Amazingly, she 
was still sleeping.  Her breathing seemed more regular, more relaxed.  
He turned to walk out of the room. 

"Todd, is that you?" 

"Yes, how are you." 

"I feel a little better.  I guess I slept a lot.  Why are you still 
home?  You usually work Saturdays." "I'm taking some time off.  I'm 
worried about you." 

Marta looked at him sharply.  "Well, this is a first.  Are you preparing 
me for something?  A dinner?  An introduction?" 

"No.  There's nothing on my calendar.  I've told my office I'm not going 
back to work until you're well again." 

Marta raised her eyebrows.  "Are you going to spy on me?" 

"Marta, dear, I am truly concerned about your health.  That's all.  Now, 
would you like some breakfast?" 

She smiled.  "You don't have to bring me breakfast in bed.  I can walk 
by myself you know."  She slid out of the bed, knees almost buckling.  
Todd reached forward and took her arm, pulling her to her feet.  Marta 
frowned.  "Thanks Todd, but be more gentle.  I bruise very easily." 

They walked down to the kitchen.  "Jesus, Marta, there's no food in the 
house." 

"Why are you surprised?  We never eat here.  Let's forget about 
breakfast.  I'll get dressed and we can go into town for lunch." 

Ninety minutes later, they were sitting an a small bakery, eating bread 
and coffee.  "This is a nice place.  Why haven't we done this before?" 

"Because you're always working, Todd.  But you're right.  It is very 
nice.  I'm enjoying it.  And the bread tastes great.  I feel like I 
haven't eaten in weeks." 

Todd let that pass.  She did look better, more relaxed, with some color 
in her face.  But that could have been the sleep, rather than any spell.  
Suddenly, Marta turned pale, stood up and ran to the bathroom.  He could 
hear her retching.  Ten minutes later, she emerged, pale as ever. 

"You'll have to take me back, Todd.  I need to go to bed." 

Todd sighed, paid the check and drove back to the house.  While Marta 
napped, he called Becky.  There was no answer at home or at her office.  
He slammed down the phone, then called the local take out restaurant and 
ordered a pantry full of food for delivery. 

In the late afternoon, Marta came downstairs.  "You're still here?  That 
nap helped.  Sorry about that." 

"It's ok.  Hungry now?"  Marta nodded.  "I bought some food.  You can 
try some chicken soup.  I had it delivered." 

Marta drank down the soup greedily and finished a second bowl, while 
Todd munched on a sandwich.  "How about some Scrabble?" 

She shrugged.  "You always win, but ok."  They sat at a table, not 
saying much, while the tiles filled the board. 

"Are you sure 'onyx' is a word, Marta?" 

"Of course.  Dad had a whole table setting made of onyx.  It's a kind of 
stone." 

"Ok, ok.  It's over forty points.  You're playing very well." 

"I know, but you're still going to win." 

Todd looked at her.  It really was a pleasant day.  She wasn't so bad 
looking.  A little thin and small, without the voluptuous curves and 
muscle tone Becky had, but she was acceptably attractive.  He remembered 
how he felt about her when they first met and leaned forward to kiss 
her.  She smiled and put her hand on his neck, returning the kiss 
gently. 

"That's sweet, Todd.  This is the nicest day I've had in a long time.  
It's like a gift.  Thank you." 

"It doesn't have to end here, you know."  He moved over to her side and 
slipped his arm around her, pulling her closer.  She was so slight, he 
had to be more gentle than with Becky, but it felt good to hold her. 

"Did you really want to do that, Todd, or did you just want to see my 
letters?"  He picked her up and kissed her fully, carrying her to a 
sofa.  "My!  We are feeling romantic.  But Todd, I really don't know if 
I'm up to it.  I still feel kind of sick.  Would you just lie here with 
me?"  She noticed the let down in Todd's face.  "Oh I'm not rejecting 
you Todd.  This is so nice, really.  Maybe tomorrow, if I still feel 
better and ... if you're still going to be around." 

"I'll be here for you."  He lay her down on the sofa and curled up next 
to her, stroking her face and neck, slowly working his way down to her 
small firm breasts when he noticed her regular breathing.  She was 
asleep. 

What a ball of fire she is, he thought, annoyed, and remembered the 
heaving of Becky's breasts in the midst of their passion.  He called her 
again.  No answer. 

He checked on Marta several times, then carried her up to her bed for 
the night. 

At seven the next morning he felt someone stirring him in his bed.  He 
felt around groggily.  It was Marta. 

"Good morning darling.  Are you still my lover?  I hope you don't mind 
the liberties, but I felt so good when I woke up, I decided to seize the 
moment.  You do still like morning sex, don't you?" 

Todd opened his eyes, and at the same time felt a breast in his mouth.  
He started sucking and quickly felt his erection building.  Marta's hand 
was on his cock, gently caressing it, molding it higher and straighter.  
He rolled over on to her. 

"Please, Todd, not on top of me.  Your weight." 

He remembered her fragile state and turned them over, stroking her hip 
and round ass.  It felt firmer than he had remembered, probably from her 
lack of real food, but he eased into her quickly.  They moved together 
in sync, and he felt her pulling him  inside, faster and faster as she 
straddled him.  Her passion surprised him, excited him, and they came 
together.  After they came, she slumped down on top of him, resting 
against his hairy chest. 

"Todd, that was so nice. I had forgotten what a good lover you are.  I 
don't want this weekend to end." 

"I told you, I'm taking some time off, until you really are better." 

"Then you're serious? Can we even go away?  We've never even had a real 
honeymoon, just the business trip you took to San Francisco." 

"Where do you want to go?" 

"An island.  St. Barts or Barbados.  Someplace far." 

"Ok.  I'll have Becky book something for us." 

"No.  Not her.  Let me have Geraldine do it.  She's always done this 
sort of thing for our family." 

"But Becky is so efficient, and she'll find the best place." 

"Please Todd, I don't want to have to explain, it would ruin it for me.  
Let me talk to Geraldine." 

"Becky has to know where I am.  She's my assistant." 

"Then you can tell her.  After we arrive.  Or I'll call your office.  I 
promise." 

"Ok.  What do want to do today?" 

"I don't know.  Imagine, a whole day.  Let's have brunch at the inn." 

"Are you sure you're up to it." 

"I think so, I really feel a lot better.  Mmmm.  Especially after making 
love.  Want to do it again?"  She burrowed under the covers and started 
licking him.  Todd couldn't believe it.  She had never been this 
playful, even during their honeymoon.  But maybe that was partly his 
fault too.  Or maybe this was the spell.  The flicking of her tongue was 
making it hard for him to think and soon he was inside her again.  This 
time they made love more slowly.  He kissed her breasts, her neck, up 
and down her face.  Her eyes looked into his with such affection.  Could 
this be love?  Was this what he had married?  Did his boss actually set 
him on the right path?  These thoughts went through his mind as he came 
closer and closer to his second orgasm in thirty minutes and arched his 
wife two feet into the air, pushing deep inside her as her moans filled 
the morning light. 

They lay in bed awhile quietly afterwards and Todd fell asleep until 
eleven, when he found a note telling him she'd gone shopping for clothes 
for their trip.  Todd tried again to reach Becky without success and 
flipped through the channels watching football for a few hours until 
Marta returned, laden with packages. 

"I'm so tired.  I think I overdid it, but Geraldine booked us the most 
marvelous trip leaving tomorrow and I had to do everything today.  I've 
got to go to sleep.  Wake me at five so I can pack."  She dropped 
everything in the hall and went upstairs to bed. 

"But where are we going?" 

"South," came the faint reply.  "It's a surprise, my treat." 

That's good, thought Todd.  I'm flat broke. 

The next morning, Marta awoke at four-thirty and tiptoed into Todd's 
room.  He was packed, so she turned off his alarm and set to work.  I 
feel so much better, she thought.  Is it just Todd's company?  There's 
so arguing with success, though.  Maybe all I needed was to know he 
cared.  I haven't even wanted to pop pills for two days.  

She woke Todd at ten, giving him an hour before the driver came.  He 
came down with his bag with fifteen minutes to spare. 

"So where are we going?" 

"It's a tiny place on Barbados.  No phones or newspapers, unless you 
walk a few miles.  It'll be just you and me, the beach, tennis and 
scrabble for a week.  It sounds wonderful." 

"That's a little long to be without any news.  What if something 
happens?" 

"Uncle Richard said not to worry and that he and Becky can take care of 
the office.  He's very glad I'm back on my feet and sounded quite proud 
of you.  I told him how much you'd done for me the past few days.  So 
you see, I've taken care of everything, and all we have to do is have 
fun together." 

Todd nodded.  "How'd you get the suitcases down?  Did you pack by the 
door or something?" 

"No, silly.  I took them down myself.  It's just swimsuits and summer 
dresses."  She reached up to kiss him.  "I feel so much better.  I guess 
all I needed was a little attention from you. I'm looking forward so 
much to a week together.  There's the car.  Let's go." 

Todd let the driver take the bags to the car, and they drove to the 
airport, Marta chatting all the way down.  The flight was delayed, but 
eventually they arrived.  A car was waiting for them, and they stuffed 
themselves and their luggage into it and drove for over an hour to a 
small beach house at the end of a dirt road on the north side of the 
island. 

Todd tipped the driver after he set up their luggage in the bedroom and 
showed them how to use the ice box and stove.  "We will deliver your 
food later, Mrs. Bartel, just as Miss Geraldine ordered, and we pick you 
up next week.  Enjoy our island." 

Todd watched him leave, then turned to his wife.  "Let's go for a swim.  
It's been a long flight."  He thought she'd beg off, but instead, she 
agreed, and they quickly changed.  He looked Marta over carefully in her 
new swimsuit.  Her curves were subtle, but she looked great.  Her skin 
looked fresh, no longer pasty, and her stomach was tight under the one 
piece suit.  Even better, she seemed to have a special glow, even after 
the long flight.  She smiled up at him, took his hand and they ran to 
the surf. The water was warm and fresh, but the waves were high, so 
Marta and Todd swam beyond the breakers.  He watched her stroke easily 
out to a sandbar and back and admired her smooth form. 

"It better be.  I studied swimming for ten years, like some people 
studied piano.  You have no idea what a fanatic my father was about 
form.  He didn't care if we were succeeded or failed, just as long as we 
looked good doing it.  I'm hungry.  Want to race for shore?" 

"Are you well enough?" 

"Sure, let's go." 

They turned and swam, Todd pumping his arms furiously and envying 
Marta's balletic strokes.  He beat her by fifteen seconds, but he was 
winded, while she seemed barely flushed. She took his arm.  "This feels 
like paradise, dear.  Let's see what I can make for dinner.  Then we can 
watch the sun set." 

"Sounds great." 

Todd sat in a chair outside and ate a papaya, while Marta stirred some 
vegetables, spices and pieces of chicken on the portable stove.  He 
didn't remember the last vacation he had taken that wasn't in some way 
designed to help his career, although maybe he should think of this one 
in the same way.  No, that would be unfair to Marta.  He hadn't realized 
what a genuinely good person she was.  This week would be fun all by 
itself, and if it helped him at work, well, all the better. 

Through the open door, he watched her fluid motions in the kitchen.  
Amazing how the resentment he had sensed in her seemed to evaporate.  He 
was sure she suspected he was having an affair with Becky.  Was it that 
sense of form she'd been taught, reasserting itself now that she was 
feeling better?  He wondered if it was the spell.  Maybe it was just 
their being together.  If he had any suspicion he could have made her 
better just by being more attentive.  Well, that money would still be a 
good investment if Uncle Richard was satisfied that he was taking good 
care of Marta.  Then he'd truly be indispensable. 

"What are you thinking about?  You look so happy, I'd almost think 
you're enjoying being away with me." 

"I am, Marta.  Is dinner ready so soon?" 

"The chicken's done.  The rice is on, and we'll eat our greens raw.  
That's the way it is with just one burner." 

"One's enough for me." 

"Me too." 

He stood up and reached over to her, hitting her shoulder blade instead 
of her shoulder, then adjusting his arm, hugging her to him.  They held 
the tight embrace for a minute, then sat down to a hearty meal. 

Afterwards, they stretched out to read, but he soon fell asleep from 
dinner and the exertions of the day.  He woke with a start to see her 
staring at him. 

"What time is it?  Have I been sleeping long?" 

"It's two in the morning, New York time.  You were sleeping so soundly I 
didn't want to wake you." 

"Why aren't you asleep?" 

"I wasn't tired.  Must be all that sleep on the way down." 

Todd nodded drowsily.  "Well, let's go to bed.  Sorry I'm such a bore 
tonight." 

"You've been a dream all day.  I love you." 

He looked at her.  She was beautiful, and she was his wife.  "I love you 
too." 

The next morning he woke up at eight.  She was already up, and he didn't 
hear her around the house.  He checked the beach, and not seeing her, 
dressed for his run.  He decided to run uphill, toward the town, and 
check where he could buy a newspaper and make calls.  Two and half miles 
later, he reached a small village and circled the streets until he 
satisfied himself, then headed back.  Halfway back, he saw Marta, 
walking ahead of him at a brisk pace, carrying a package.   He slowed 
down to keep pace alongside her. 

"Hi darling.  You went the right way!  I have your newspaper, and some 
of the local beer.  We can try it with lunch.  I've some other treats 
for breakfast too. 

"That must be heavy.  It's a long walk to carry the beer." 

"No, I'm fine, really.  Finish your run.  I get a little tired and rest 
a bit, but then I'm alright again.  The exercise is good for me.  By the 
time you're done with a swim, I'll have breakfast ready.  There's no 
shower, you know." 

"Right.  Are you sure you're ok? 

"Splendid.  See you later." 

He ran off.  What a woman! 

Marta thought, he's right; this is heavy when I think about it.  What a 
change a week makes. 

He ran home, stripped off his shirt and shoes and went right into the 
water.  The surf was wonderfully refreshing.  He climbed out, toweled 
himself off and there was breakfast.  Fresh local fruit, cheese and 
coffee!  They sat together outside, eating slowly and watching the 
waves.  Marta finished first, and walked behind him to massage his neck, 
her fingers digging deep into his muscles. 

"That feels so good.  I never get massages." 

"You should.  I miss mine; I usually get one every day." 

"I'll give you one." 

"Stay right where you are and finish your coffee.  I'm not finished with 
you yet." 

He smiled contentedly, enjoying the newspaper and glancing at the 
newspaper headlines.  Her fingers were strong and he could feel the 
tension in his back melt away, while a different tension began to grow 
in his crotch.  He turned around and picked her up, carrying her to the 
bed. 

"Oh, oh, there goes my massage," she giggled.  He pulled off her shirt 
and pants.  No underwear?  "Another surprise for you!"  She looked 
ravishing, even her smell was fresh.  He dove down into her vagina, 
licking her juices.  They tasted different; he couldn't put his finger 
on it, but he liked it.  His tongue burrowed inside her, caressing her 
button as she bucked up and down.  Her screams of pure pleasure thrilled 
him.  Where had this passion come from?   He had never suspected her of 
such desire.  He tongued her mercilessly until she had come twice again, 
and then he felt her pulling on his hair, bringing him up for air. 

"You're incredible Todd, but I want to feel you inside me, another part 
of you, that is."  He rolled her on top of him and he slipped inside 
quickly.  He could feel the throbbing of her vaginal walls, pulsating 
against him.  Where had she learned this? 

"What are you doing?" 

"Do you like it?" 

"There's no word for it.  It's incredible.  Oh, don't stop." 

"Don't worry, I won't forget how.  I don't know, it just came to me last 
night, while you were sleeping.  I was thinking of making love and I 
started flexing this muscle down there I didn't even know I had.  It 
feels pretty good to me too, especially with you inside.  Just relax and 
enjoy the ride." 

He closed his eyes and smiled. 

Marta looked at her husband, proud of her new pleasuring technique.  
Look at him, he's so relaxed, like putty under me, except for that sweet 
rod of his, filling me with his strength.  So this is the power of a 
woman.  I've never felt it before, but now is a perfect time to start. 

Slowly he began to thrust into her, timing his movements with the pulses 
of her contractions.  Each time he was about to come, she varied the 
rhythm a little, throwing him off the trick to his orgasm temporally.  
But the new sensations more than made up for the delay in his release.  
Finally, when the tingling filled his whole body, he felt her vibrate 
like a strobe.  Her whole body tensed and he thrust into her with all 
his energy.  They both screamed in joy and he filled her with his juice.   

He looked up at her in amazement.  "I have never felt anything like that 
in my life.  You're wonderful." 

"You're a prize too.  Thank you for giving me my life back." 

They gazed into each other's eyes intensely, then looked away, both 
almost embarrassed at the depth of their feelings. 

Marta wrapped her legs around Todd, giving him a playful squeeze.  "Come 
on, I want to get up.  We can try it again later, if you're up for it." 

"I'll have to check my appointment book, but it's a good bet." 

"My darling." 

She got up and walked to the sink.  What a gorgeous ass, he thought, it 
moves with a life of its own, and not an ounce of fat on it.  Why didn't 
I ever notice it when we first met?  I must have been thinking of other 
things, like her Uncle and the business.  What a dope I can be! 

"Join me for a swim?" 

"I don't know.  A nap would be good.  Come back with me." 

"Take your nap.  You never get to rest like this.  I've done nothing 
else for months, and sleeping is the last thing I feel like doing.  I'll 
wake you later for some Scrabble." 

"'kay" 

Marta reached into the drawer and pulled on her suit and admired they 
way it fit snugly over her body, then ran off to the water.  Running 
feels so good, she thought.  Maybe I should go out with Todd tomorrow.  
No, I'd only slow him down.  He hates that.  Oh this water is heavenly.  
I don't remember feeling this good, ever, like I'm just seventeen again 
but without the awkwardness.  Todd really scored for us with his 
vacation, and I with this trip, probably saved our marriage. 

Three days later, another perfect day dawned.  Todd awoke at six.  Marta 
was sitting in the corner, reading. 

"What are you doing up so early?" 

"I don't know.  I don't feel like sleeping." 

"Are you okay?  I never see you sleep anymore." 

"I do.  I just haven't needed very much." 

"What are you reading?" 

"You'll laugh.  The Scrabble dictionary." 

"Why are you reading that?" 

"I've read everything else we brought, and it's too early for the 
newspapers.  I thought I'd surprise you with a few new words.  You 
wouldn't believe the stuff that's in here." 

"I know.  I tried it once.  There are lists and things of words every 
tournament player should know, but I've never studied hard enough to 
learn them." 

"Let's do something different today.  Let's go into town for a nice 
meal, and maybe some sightseeing.  You can go shopping." 

She closed the book and beamed at him.  "Great.  I'd love that."  She 
leapt up and dove for the bed.  "I was hoping you'd get up early.  Did 
you hear me turn the pages loudly?"  She was nibbling at his ear and his 
neck. 

"Cut it out, you're tickling me," he laughed and pushed her away, but 
she was persistent and straddled him, leaning down on his shoulders with 
her hands.  They tussled a little; Todd tried to pry her off, then 
instead flipped her over and landed on her.  "Oh, I'm sorry, Marta.  Are 
you alright?" 

"Don't worry, I'm fine, you big lug.  Put your weight on me.  I want to 
feel all of you.  Oh, I'm hot for you.  Put it in me, now."  He slowly 
pushed inside her and felt the heat of her desire.  She put her hands 
around his buns and gripped tightly.  "Stop treating me like I'm going 
to break.  Let go, Todd. Let me feel you.  I can take it."  She gripped 
the checks of his ass so hard he almost came. 

"Marta, you've really got a grip." 

"It's those love handles of yours, Todd.  I can't resist."  She squeezed 
again.  Todd responded by driving harder and harder into her.  "Oh, yes, 
Todd, yes.  That's right.  Oh, harder, harder.  I can feel it all.  Oh, 
come on, come in further, oh yes, oh yes.  Yes!  Yes!.  Oh, don't stop, 
oh no, oh no, oh, oh."  She started to scream and push with her hip 
while her hands pressed hard against him.  Todd had never felt such 
passion from a woman, or such strength, and it startled him for a 
moment, but that delay was enough to get Marta to her orgasm, which beat 
hard against his cock, until the fluttering of her vaginal walls brought 
him to his climax.  He rested against her face, his cheek to hers. 

"It's amazing Marta.  Every time we make love, it's like a new 
discovery." 

"It's the same for me Todd.  Oh, let's pretend this was our honeymoon 
and our marriage is just starting now.  The last six months didn't 
happen.  Alright?" 

"Sure.  As long as the rest of our lives are just like this week." 

He got up to wash and shave.  He noticed Marta putting on her new 
clothes one after another and frowning.  "What's wrong?  You don't like 
what you bought?" 

"They must have sized these differently.  It's my usual size and They 
all looked like they'd fit, but all the slacks are a little short and 
the tops are tight." 

"I think it makes you look sexy." 

"It looks cheap Todd, but thanks.  Well, this one is mostly open, and I 
can pick up something else in town." 

"Your legs look great." 

"It must be all this exercise this week.  I feel great."  She looked at 
him closely.  "You're not feeding me anything unusual, are you?" 

"Marta!  Why would you say that?  Besides, you've been doing all of the 
cooking." 

"I know.  It's just that.  Well, I'm not the suspicious type, but I just 
feel so good.  It's like someone waved a magic wand at me. Hey, don't 
look so guilty!  I was just thinking it's funny how all it took was some 
quality time from you." 

They spent the day walking through the main town.  Todd was impressed 
by, and a little fearful of, Marta's stamina.  The miles of walking and 
hours of bargaining made no dent in her energy, and she was startled 
when he insisted on stopping for the day, but they enjoyed a pleasant 
dinner and rode a taxi back to their house.  

Todd fell asleep the moment they hit the bed.  Marta thought of rousing 
him for some fun, but then decided to let him sleep on the last night of 
their trip, and spent the next hours trying on her new outfits.  I'm 
sure they're larger than what I usually buy, she thought, but they fit 
beautifully. 

The next morning Todd awoke to Marta's heavy breathing.  "I just got 
back.  I didn't want to wake you on your last morning.  I've been out 
for a run.  I see why you like it so much.  It's much more fun than 
walking." 

"Huh?  Where did you go?" 

"Oh, away from town, along the shore.  I saw some wild beaches, a park, 
a few small towns.  It was so pretty this time of the morning." 

"Sounds nice." 

"But now I want you."  She dived into bed, on top of Todd, and pulled 
off his pajamas.  Her body was slippery with perspiration, and she gave 
off almost an animalistic scent, which quickly aroused Todd.  He entered 
her almost immediately and she closed her legs around him, gratefully.  
She saw him wince. 

"What's wrong honey?" 

"Too tight," he groaned, "your legs!"  She quickly loosened her grip and 
immediately became reabsorbed in the act, grinding hard against him to 
push him deeper and deeper inside.  Todd was amazed at her 
responsiveness and the growing force of her desire.  His hands explored 
her body as she shifted around on top of him.  Her upper arms and 
shoulders were definitely firmer and thicker than he recalled, her back 
broader, and he could not recall feeling muscle there before between her 
skin and her shoulder blades.  His eyes opened again in grateful 
surprise as she started to pulse her vaginal walls and he lost his 
ability to think of anything but the incredible sensations radiating 
into his body from his rod. 

Todd called his office from Miami on the way back.  Instead of Becky 
answering, his call bounced to the front desk. 

"Marsha, why doesn't Becky answer my line?" 

"She's working for Mr. Whitney now, Mr. Bartel.  May I transfer you 
there? 

"What!  Oh, OK." 

"Mr. Whitney's office." 

"Becky.  What are you doing there?" 

"Surprised you, didn't I?  I wouldn't worry, Todd.  Marta's on the phone 
with my new boss now, and from the look on his face, I'd say you'll be 
back here in no time.  Look's like you've done a good job, maybe even 
good enough to get me back, someday.  Oh, he wants me.  Hold on a sec'."  

Todd held the phone for a couple of minutes. 

"Todd?  That you?  Well I'm damn pleased.  Marta sounds like her old 
self again.  And I've got a big project for you.  You need to get to 
California right away.  This web browser thing you were telling me about 
is just too hot to miss, and I think there's a deal for us.  Get your 
secretary to reroute you and call me when you arrive." 

"Uh, sure, Uncle Richard, but I, I mean, my secretary ...." 

"What are you saying?  Oh, yes, I've taken Becky.  Fine girl.  There is 
something we should discuss, Todd, but it can wait until you come back.  
Just get yourself to San Jose or San Francisco or San something and call 
me tomorrow.  Sorry to ruin the end of your trip, but there's work to be 
done!" 

The phone went dead.  Marta had come back and was clinging to Todd's 
arm.  "I know honey.  You have to go back to work.  I told Uncle Richard 
it was alright, but I'll miss you.  Hurry home, won't you?  Let's see if 
we can get your luggage forwarded." 

"I'm sorry Marta.  I hope this doesn't ruin everything again." 

"We just won't let it.  Ok?"  She patted his shoulder.  "You're my 
lifesaver, you know."  She pulled at his arm again and Todd thought he 
noticed a momentary bulge in her upper arm.  Was she growing a bicep, he 
wondered.  He made a mental note to call the witch and ask about it. 

*** 

Todd didn't mind the detour to San Jose, especially because it meant he 
was back on the fast track.  He didn't like losing Becky, but with the 
changes in Marta, a break with Becky was probably inevitable, and this 
would be the cleanest way to do it.  The meetings went well.  Uncle 
Richard had a good sense of where the market was going several months in 
the future and he had found a company that would soon be on everyone's 
must have list, but that was currently desperate for backing.  Todd did 
his part and by the end of the third day had locked in a deal for twenty 
percent of the company.  Uncle Richard was quite pleased. 

"And now I have to send you off to Germany.  I'm shocked to learn how 
far behind the continent is on this internet thing.  A real 
opportunity." 

"But what about Marta?  I can't leave her alone for another week.  I 
haven't even been able to talk to her for three days." 

"Marta says she's fine, and I have to let her be the judge.  Besides, 
you've just had a week off.  You never used to complain about the work." 

"I'm not complaining.  I just want to take care of your favorite niece, 
remember?" 

Todd heard his boss chuckle and thought he could hear Becky's low voice 
very close to the phone.  "I missed that Todd.  Sorry, I have a visitor.  
Listen, I think Marta will be fine, but I'll tell her you're concerned.  
She's been hard to reach.  It took almost a day for Becky to run her 
down.  Heh-heh.  She's a fine secretary Todd.  Call me and let me know 
how it's going or if you need some help." 

Todd sighed.  It was too late for today's plane out.  He'd have to leave 
early in the morning.  He tried home. 

"Marta!  At last!  How are you?" 

"Todd!  I'm so glad you called.  Uncle Richard said you did well and 
he's sending you on another trip." 

"Yeah, I'm really sorry." 

"It's not your fault.  I'll keep." 

"You're really ok about it." 

"Oh, I'm better than ever.  I can't wait to see you again Todd.  Hurry 
home." 

Todd's business took almost a week, and thankfully there were no more 
missions from Uncle Richard.  In fact, he went on a trip of his own, 
taking his new assistant along with him to Singapore.  On his way 
through London, he remembered that he wanted to call Michelle Ford about 
the spell.  He quickly reached her secretary. 

"Spells by Michelle.  How may I help you?" 

"May I speak to Michelle?" 

"I'm sorry.  Miss Ford is not taking calls at this time." 

"I'm calling from London.  Is there any way you can interrupt her? 

"She is with a client.  May I have your name and Spelling Bee number?" 

"I have no idea what my account number is.  I'm Todd Bartel." 

"Hold on.  Yes, Mr. Bartel.  I see you have not returned our follow-up 
survey.  I will connect you with our in-house counselor. Hold please." 

Todd waited.  A very professional sounding voice started speaking. 

"Mr. Bartel.  I am Judy Wolcott.  You had agreed in your contract to 
provide us with certain follow-up information to ensure that our service 
was appropriate and to help up assist you and other future customers." 

"Well, I've been traveling." 

"I see.  If you wish we can complete the questions now; then you may 
ignore the survey we've sent to you.  Now, in your opinion was the spell 
effective?" 

"I think so.  How can I be sure?" 

"Let's see.  Is your wife healthier?  Stronger?" 

"I guess.  But how do I know whether it was the spell or something else.  
That's what I want to talk to Michelle about." 

"Miss Ford is not available right now.  Do you have a complaint?   Do 
you wish to do additional business?" 

"I have some questions." 

"You're not sure.  Do your questions relate to a new subject matter or a 
modification of an existing spell?" 

"I don't know, I just want to understand what is happening to my wife.  
She seems, I don't know, to be changing." 

"I see.  Well, sir, that sounds as if it is within the parameters of the 
requested spell." 

"Yes, but I want to know how much she's going to change." 

"That is not a question I can answer sir.  If you like, I'll put you 
down for a consultation with Miss Ford.  There is a charge of $500 per 
hour or any fraction thereof.  How much time do you wish to reserve?" 

"Five hundred an hour?  Forget it!" 

"Alright, we won't schedule you at this time.  Would you answer two more 
questions for me?  You will qualify for a 20% retroactive discount if 
you name three individuals who may need Miss Ford's services.  Would you 
care to name these individuals now?" 

"No." 

"And finally, would you consent to the use of your name in any 
advertising or other communication?" 

"Certainly not.  Wait.  You mean I have to pay $500 an hour to get 
information about what I've bought?" 

"Yes sir.  Your initial fee covered only the initial consultation and 
the spell.  As set forth in Section 2 of the contract, additional 
services will be charged separately.  The only exception is for 
discussions regarding spells that were ineffective, but I must warn you 
that Miss Ford will charge you a premium over the usual consulting fee 
if she reasonably determines that there was no legitimate dispute 
regarding the efficacy of the spell." 

"Great.  So I pay if she decides." 

"That's basically it.  She is the witch." 

"I don't believe it.  Hey, one more thing.  You said you sent me a 
survey?  Where did it go?" 

"The address you gave for notices in the contract.  I believe it is Two 
Horsefeathers...." 

"That's my home address.  My wife will have seen it." 

"Why?  Does she open your mail?" 

"I guess not.  Not usually." 

"Then you have nothing to worry about.  May I suggest sir that if you do 
not want to receive our mail at your house you should rent a post office 
box." 

"Yeah sure.  Thanks for the advice." 

"You're welcome.  Is there any other way we can help you?" 

"No, I have to catch a plane." 

"Very well.  Remember Spells by Michelle.  We sell spells that tell." 

Todd hung up.  He caught the plane back to New York and slept in the 
limo all the way to his house.  It was empty when he arrived, the mail 
stacked into neat piles, including a separate one for seven envelopes 
with the return address for Spells by Michelle, all unopened.  Todd 
breathed a sigh of relief and scooped them into his briefcase.  There 
was also an envelope with his name.  He opened it, a note from Marta. 

"Todd dear.  Welcome home.  I'm out shopping but I can't wait to see 
you.  Rest up and get dressed.  I'm ready for some fun tonight. XXOO 
Love, M" 

Todd showered, shaved and changed, then lay on the bed, watching the 
Knicks.  During halftime he heard the door. 

"Marta?" 

"Are you ready to go?", she called from downstairs. 

"Where?" 

"Out to eat.  A country inn over in the Berkshires." 

"That's an hour away." 

"I'll have us there in thirty minutes.  I promise." 

Todd sighed, feeling a little disappointed.  The sex had been so intense 
on Barbados.  He couldn't believe he was actually excited about seeing 
Marta.  Now he'd be too tired for much fun after dinner. But he roused 
himself and went downstairs to meet her.  Hearing him, Marta bounded 
into the entrance hall, wearing a short, sleeveless black dress pulled 
tightly at the waist and flaring suddenly at her shoulders and hips.  

"How do I look?" 

Todd stared at her in awe.  His eyes traveled up her body.  Her legs 
seemed more rounded, and her skin was flawless and smooth.   Even her 
knees looked as fresh as a child's.  The dress clung to her hips and ass 
and showed the graceful movement of every muscle.  Her figure seemed 
more dramatic, her breasts higher.  Was she even wearing a bra?  And 
that skin, so fresh and fragrant. "Incredible.  Is this really you?" 

"I think so."  She gave him a quick hug.  "Come on.  I'm driving.  Let's 
go." 

He followed her to his Porsche.  He wasn't used to sitting on the 
passenger side of his car, but he was happy to let her take the wheel 
tonight.  She revved up the car and roared out of the driveway onto the 
road. 

"Hey, you're going pretty fast.  It's night." 

She accelerated further.  They were going eighty and they hadn't even 
hit the highway.  "Watch this."  Suddenly, she turned out the lights.  
Todd couldn't believe she was speeding on their narrow, winding road in 
the dark. 

"Are you crazy?  What are you doing?" 

"I can see fine.  See, I'm making all the curves.  Oh, oh."  She slowed 
suddenly and turned on the lights.  "Cop car.  He had his radar on me." 

"Sure.  The detector didn't even....  Hey, it just went on and ... there 
he is!  How did you know?" 

Marta turned to him.  "You know, I could see it.  I can't really 
describe it, because it's not like a color or anything.  I just sense 
it.  The road too.  It's different than the grass around it.  Hotter, or 
cooler, it doesn't matter.  It's always a different sense than the 
shoulder and the grass and trees.  It just started a few days ago, and 
these senses have been getting stronger every day.  I wanted to see what 
you thought.  There's more traffic.  I'll leave the lights on here 
anyway, so the other cars can see us." 

"Are you sure you're alright?" 

"Never better.  I even saw Dr. Brewer today." 

"Oh?  What did he say?" 

"He was shocked at my recovery.  He said he'd never seen anyone in 
better shape.  I was off the scales in blood oxygen, hemoglobin, all 
that stuff.  Some of the readings scared him, but he said that in 
context I was fine.  And you know what?"  She turned to him to make a 
point.  "I never told you this, but I was partially deaf in my left ear.  
From a shooting accident when I was eleven.  Well, I can hear again.  
Better than most people.  In fact,"  she put her finger on Todd's 
shoulder, "better than anyone.  What do you think of that?" 

She sped onto the Thruway, passing one hundred. 

"What do you mean, better than anyone?" 

"Why are you getting mail from 'Spells by Michelle', Todd?  I noticed 
the pile was gone." 

"It's nothing, really." 

"I know it's something." 

"What did you do, open my mail?" 

"Oh I would never do that.  I can hear it in your voice, in your heart, 
even in your blood."  She slowed to seventy and a few seconds later the 
radar detector went off.  "You can turn that off.  It's illegal in 
Connecticut anyway."  He flicked the switch.  "Thanks, it was annoying 
me.  I've always been sensitive to people's voices and moods.  A few 
days ago I suddenly noticed I could hear the tension in voices.  I was 
arguing with a saleswoman about the delivery time of some furniture.  
She said the factory was backed up, but I could just tell from the pitch 
of her voice and her breathing that she was lying.  So I called the 
factory and they said it was funny, but there was a lady on the other 
line who had just phoned in the order.  So she had forgotten and was 
lying to me to cover it up.  And I knew it.  And just like my night 
vision, it gets better every day."  She smiled.  "I'm making you 
nervous.  I can hear your heart beating just a little bit faster." 

They passed a police car waiting behind some bushes.  Todd was silent.  
A few minutes later, the traffic thinned.  Marta turned off the lights 
and started speeding up again, one hundred, one hundred twenty, one 
hundred forty.  Before he knew it, she was exiting onto the road to 
Lenox.  She slowed to sixty and turned the lights back on. 

"I bet you're wondering what else I'm going to tell you.  I know you 
have some secrets too Todd.  One of them involves Becky, right?  You're 
trying to breathe regularly Todd, but you can't control your heart.  It 
jumps just a little bit when you try to hide something.  I suspected it 
for a while and I knew it for sure when I stopped at your offices two 
days ago and saw her.  Poor Aunt Adrienne.  Don't worry. I'm not angry 
now.  I know she doesn't work for you anymore, and besides, she's no 
competition for me.  I haven't been much fun for the last few months and 
that's all changed.  I can see by the way you looked at me tonight.  
There.  Is that settled?  Do you want to tell me about anyone else? 

Todd mumbled hoarsely, "No, Marta.  There's no one else." 

"Good.  I didn't think so.  We're almost there.  We can talk about 
Michelle later." 

Marta pulled up at the restaurant. Todd was sweating.  He had to get to 
a phone and excused himself. 

"Spells by Michelle.  How may I help you?" 

"I need to schedule a consultation with Michelle." 

"May I have your name and Spelling Bee number?" 

"Todd Bartel and I don't know my account number." 

"Hold on.  I'm checking her schedule.  We're very tight, and there's a 
coven next week.  It will have to be two weeks after Thursday." 

"That's too long." 

"Well, if you're willing to pay premium rates, I can arrange a 
conference early tomorrow.  That would be 7:00 a.m. for $1,500 per hour 
or any portion." 

"I can't make it." 

"Then shall I put you down for Thursday, two weeks?" 

"Yes, yes, ok.  Hey what happened to the receptionist, uh Joan, who was 
there before when I came in?" 

"This is she.  I remember you Mr. Bartel." 

"You sound different." 

"Oh, thank you for noticing Mr. Bartel.  Miss Ford did my voice and sent 
me to a school to work on my diction.  It was my bonus for my first 
anniversary here.  I feel much more sophisticated, and people treat me 
with more respect.  Do you like it?" 

"I guess so.  Your old voice had character too." 

"That's what my old boyfriend said.  But he isn't very refined. I have 
to go; Miss Ford's calling me.  Goodbye Mr. Bartel." 

Todd returned to the table.  Marta had already ordered the wine.  She 
lifted her glass and Todd joined her.  "A toast.  To love and fun."  
Todd took a long swallow from his glass and Marta drained hers and 
refilled it and his. 

"This is very good.  A nice Burgundy." 

"I know it's your favorite.  I ordered dinner too.  They're closing soon 
and I know you're tired." 

"You look bright and cheery." 

"I don't need much sleep these days.  Drink all you want, I'll drive 
back.  You won't believe it, but I don't get drunk.  I tried last night.  
I had a quart of scotch and then tested myself.  I wasn't even 
impaired." 

"You're full of surprises." 

Marta smiled.  "Just wait until we get home." 

*** 

They ate their dinner, Marta drinking twice as much as Todd.  He 
struggled to keep up, but then gave up, watching Marta finish the second 
bottle with relish.  Feeling groggy, he suggested they skip desert and 
he slept on the drive back home.  Marta tried to wake him when they 
arrived, then gave up, loosened his tie, pushed the seat back, covered 
him with a woolen blanket and let him sleep in the car. 

When he awoke, Marta was in her bathrobe on the couch reading one of his 
business school texts. 

"You know, once you master the numbers, this business stuff is pretty 
easy.  When they write about running a company, it's just common sense.  
Understanding people.  I bet I'd be good at it.  Art appreciation and 
literature were much harder." 

"I wouldn't know.  I spent college working on how to get a job and make 
money." 

"Oh I know you did.  You had to.  Not everyone is born rich like me, and 
you've done really well.  I just never paid any attention to this kind 
of thing before.  I can see why you like it.  It's kind of like a sport, 
a competition.  Speaking of competition, how about a game of scrabble?  
I'll make breakfast while we play, and you can shower afterwards." 

"It's kind of early for that, but ok, if you make some coffee right 
away." 

"Already done.  Here it is.  You pick." 

Todd played "teary" for 24 points.  Marta added "chastity" to Todd's "y" 
for 82 points.  Todd studied the board and added "clam" to Marta's "c" 
for 30 points.  Marta played "monastery" off the "m", using a blank, for 
92 points.  Todd studied again and changed his letters.  Marta played 
"orgasmic" using the "s" in "chastity" for 80 points. 

"That's three seven-letter words for you in a row!  I've never seen you 
play like this." 

"I'm winning 254 to 54.  Give up?" 

"Of course not." 

Todd played "ax" with the "x" off the "o" in "orgasmic" for 36 points.  
Marta planed "stanzas" adding the "t" to tax for 92 points. 

"I can't believe you got two more "s"'s!  This is ridiculous." 

"346 to 90, Todd, and I just picked up the "q" and a "u".  Your turn, or 
are you too hung over to play." 

He looked up at her.  "I am hung over, but that has nothing to do with 
it.  Where'd you learn to play like this?" 

"You tell me.  I started reading the Scrabble dictionary when we were in 
Barbados and I remember a lot of words.  I also read your Scrabble 
Strategy book.  But the main thing is, I'm thinking faster and 
remembering more.  The patterns just come to me.  Want to hear something 
amazing?  A couple of days before you came home I went to get my IQ 
tested.  When I was in school it was about 120, bright, but nowhere near 
a genius, and I'm sure I killed a few brain cells with all the drugs I 
was taking.  Well, Tuesday it was 150.  I didn't believe it, but I went 
to Mensa on Thursday to have a more rigorous test and I tested at 158.  
Something tells me if I tested today it would be even higher.  What do 
you think Todd?   Does any of this ring a bell?" 

"Uh, I...." 

Marta took Todd's hands in hers.  Her grip was firm.  "I'm trying to be 
patient Todd, but something is happening to me and I want to know what 
it is.  I was brought up to be a good Episcopalian, with a modern 
education, and I don't believe in black magic, but there is no rational 
explanation for all this."  She looked him in the eye.  "If those 
envelopes from Spells by Michelle have anything to do with this, I want 
you to bring them here and open them.  You owe it to me." 

Todd's mouth was dry.  "Wait here.  I'll get them." 

He returned with the envelopes and handed Marta the thick one.  "Open 
this.  It's probably my contract." 

"Your contract?  What did you do?  Sell your soul?" 

"No, no.  It's not like that.  It cost about five grand." 

"What did?" 

"The spell." 

"You're serious?  I was half kidding.  What kind of spell?  Let's see 
here.  Subject to become healthier, stronger, mentally, physically, 
changes to commence January 13th 1995, change gradual, spell permanent.  
It's all here, in a lot of legal writing.  Have you read all this?"  

Todd shook his head.  "Only the main parts.  It's a lot of legal 
gobbledegook." 

"Go take your shower.  I want to see what it says."  She curled up in a 
chair and began studying the contract.  Todd slunk away and went through 
his morning routine.  He felt a little better when he came back.  Marta 
had filled a pad with notes. 

"This is amazing.  I don't believe it, but if it's true it explains 
everything.  I can see why you need a lawyer to work on your deals for 
you.  You miss all the important details.  The key part is that when you 
asked for the spell to be permanent, that locked in whatever is making 
me healthier, whatever that means.  So it's not like I improved and then 
stayed at that level.  I just keep getting healthier, and smarter and 
stronger and more attractive.  So my senses keep improving, my brain 
works faster, my body gets stronger."  She focused her eyes on him, 
leaned back and added in a low voice, "And I guess I get more 
irresistible every day." 

Todd felt his penis stiffen.  She was right; he had never seen a woman 
so alluring, and all at once that scent was in the air again, stronger 
than ever.  He wanted to make love to her so badly, but in spite of 
himself he said, "This is not what I intended." 

"No, you wanted me to get better, back to my normal condition, so Uncle 
Richard wouldn't fire you.  I know why you stayed home from work.  Becky 
told me.  No, no, don't deny it.  I know it's true." 

"But we've got to stop this before it gets out of hand." 

"What do you mean 'out of hand?'  This is wonderful.  I don't want to 
stop it.  And don't get any ideas about going to her and asking her to 
stop it.  One of the contract clauses you didn't read says that if the 
subject learns of the spell from any person not associated with Spells 
by Michelle, the rights of the requesting party under the contract are 
transferred to the subject, meaning that you no longer have the right to 
request any modifications to the spell.  The contract is now between 
Michelle and me, and the whole thing is out of your control."  She 
stretched out on the floor and added, "so dear, you know that awful 
saying, when rape is inevitable, relax and enjoy." 

He looked down at her in shock.  He couldn't believe how sexy she was.  
Her scent filled the room.  His blood was boiling.  He could not resist 
another second and dove on top of her.  She laughed and gathered him 
into her arms, pulling him hard against her.  He felt her firm body, the 
soft curves of her hips and breasts, growing in size and somehow in 
their power to attract and ensnare him, her sweet lips.  He pulled off 
her clothes and let her undress him and guide him inside, the wet, dark 
heat of her vagina sending shivers of joy up his spine while a thousand 
different contractions massaged and squeezed him, making him mindless 
with desire.  He came instantly, her contractions unerringly finding the 
floating points of sensitivity on his cock, exactly when and where he 
wanted them, before he even knew.  As in a dream he withdrew from her 
and turned around, his tongue drawn inside her vagina, tasting the 
ambrosia of her juices, bringing her to one shuddering orgasm after 
another while her tongue brought him back to an erection more quickly 
than he'd ever thought possible.  Or was time passing faster than he 
knew?  He turned and entered her again, letting her roll him over so 
that she was on top, her weight surprising him, her legs twisting around 
him, beneath him now, pulling him inside, tighter and tighter.  He 
thrust hard and felt her thrust back from deep inside, waves of 
pressure, soft, no hard, no soft, he could not tell what the feeling 
was, only that it was unlike anything he had ever experienced.  He 
surrendered completely and let her bring them both to orgasm, her 
pheromones filling the air, unfathomable yearning and desire met by 
immediate and complete satisfaction.  The sensations overwhelmed him and 
he blacked out, seeming to hear Marta through the haze saying, "Poor 
Todd.  I think I'm too much for him now." 

Meanwhile, Marta looked down at her unconscious husband.  He's smiling 
and I can see he's in no pain, she thought.  I probably induced an 
overload of endorphins in him.  I shouldn't show off like that.  He 
might get addicted.  On the other hand, it was fun.  He held out longer 
than she'd expected. 

But what was Marta to do now?  Marriage ended her old life, protected by 
her family's web of social connections, and she hadn't done much to 
establish a new married life.  No, she had almost wrecked hers until 
Todd arranged for the spell.  Now she had to find a new path.  Todd had 
used her, but she had to admit that she had been a problem to him, and 
there were many worse things Todd could have done to solve his problem.  
No doubt she could make Todd very happy, but it was only a matter of 
time before she would move far beyond him, in body, mind, and spirit.  
Still, until she did, she could have some fun with him and give him 
something back in return. 

Unconstrained by financial needs, she was free to pursue whatever 
interested her.  And what interested her most right now was herself: 
What she was, and what she was becoming.  

She stared at him.  He was stirring slightly and she could hear his 
heartbeat climb slowly back to its normal level, sense the dilation of 
his blood vessels ease, his body temperature begin to settle to its 
normal level.  Focusing on herself, she noticed the slight chemical 
reaction of life forming in her womb.  That would be inconvenient now, 
she decided.  Concentrating, she raised the acidity of her fluids and 
felt the cells lose force and die.  A shame, but bad timing, she 
thought.  Next time, remember to lower the ph immediately after he 
comes.  Sperm are very sensitive. 

Todd was beginning to come to.  Marta's face, bending over his, swam 
into view. 

"What happened to me?" 

"I think it was a male version of 'le petit mort,' you know, the little 
death.  I've heard of it happening to women sometimes.  You passed out 
after you came.  I shouldn't have pushed you so far.  I'll try to 
remember to be a little less stimulating next time." 

"What do you mean?  You don't have to go easy on me.  I can take it." 

"Todd, don't be like that.  You know how I'm changing.  You're the one 
who did this to me.  I just don't want to hurt you." 

Todd felt confused.  On the one hand, he was a little afraid of Marta.  
She saw too much and suddenly she was thinking a little too quickly. On 
the other hand, she was a woman and he was the man.  The idea that she 
thought she had to go easy on him was horrible, especially in the area 
of sex.  He looked up at her again.  That look of concern and sympathy, 
like he was some sick child, was galling.  He stood, a little shakily, 
to his full height.  She definitely had grown taller and had acquired 
some muscle definition, but he was still a good six inches taller and 
larger.  He had to settle this before it went too far. 

"You're not going to hurt me.  I'm a lot stronger than you, Marta.  I'm 
the one who has to be careful." 

"This is unnecessary, Todd.  We should both be careful not to injure 
each other.  Let's just drop it." 

"No.  I don't like the idea that you feel you have to pussyfoot around 
me.  It makes no sense." 

"What is this, an ego thing with you? Well, I don't know.  You may be 
stronger than me, for now at least, but there are a lot of other things 
that give me a real advantage.  I'm quicker than you, I have more 
endurance, better balance and flexibility and I can read your body like 
a neon sign.  Just looking at you I can tell from the tension in your 
abdominal muscles that you have a gas pain on your left side right now 
and from the density of your bladder that you'd really be more 
comfortable if you peed.  Each time you move, you telegraph to me where 
you're going by sending blood and nerve signals to your muscles.  
Besides, no man can fight with an erection, and I can give you one 
whenever I want."  She raised her eyebrows and suddenly Todd felt her 
demonic sexiness hit him like a sauna blast, starting in his nose and 
mouth and quickly spreading throughout his body, draining the blood from 
his face and making him weak in the knees while it rapidly inflated his 
cock until it stood almost vertical.  

Marta laughed.  "I'm sorry Todd.  I guess that's sort of hitting below 
the belt." 

Todd wasn't laughing.  In the middle of the argument he was overcome by 
a tremendous longing for her.  He needed to feel her skin against his, 
to press his lips against hers, feel her heart against his chest and 
push his engorged cock deep inside her, but her flip assertion of 
superiority enraged him, and in a quick battle within, love and lust did 
not deflate his anger, rather, his desire fueled it, turning it into an 
intense need to subdue her, conquer her, even rape her. 

He roared and hurled himself at her, reveling in the sensation of the 
full impact of his body against hers and seeking to overwhelm her with 
his power and his weight.  Seeing him prepare to strike, she steeled her 
legs against him, meeting the impact without falling.  She turned 
slightly, deflecting to the left the force of his leap, then pushed off 
with her leg to knock him off balance so that she landed on top of him.  
She heard the whoosh of the air leaving his lungs, and while he took a 
sharp breath she bounced forward on him so that she was sitting on his 
chest, her legs pinning his arms.  Todd struggled to lift his chest to 
push her off but with the muscle she had gained she was too heavy.  
Instead, he rolled backwards and lifted his legs up and caught her, 
pulling her down and rolling her over until he lay on top of her, 
triumphant. 

"There, see?  Who's on top now?" 

"You are sweetheart.  Shall we just say you've proved your point?  But I 
have to tell you, I'd guess that you'd last no more than three more 
minutes against me." 

"You won't learn!  Then you'd better be prepared to prove it." 

She twisted her arms around so that she was pushing her elbows directly 
into his chest, while at the same time digging her knees into his 
thighs.  He tried to push her arms back, but she was stronger than she 
looked and she was concentrating all of the force of her arms into the 
two sharp points of her bones.  How did she do that without straining 
her arms?  The pressure was starting to give him a dull pain deep 
inside, and he felt his arms and legs weakening.  She must be cutting 
off my blood supply, he thought.  I can't hold her this way much longer.  
He relaxed his hold and she quickly pulled herself out.  But instead of 
moving away from him as he expected, she darted behind him and started 
pulling his left arm back.  He tried to resist, but she was persistent, 
and kept shifting the angle of her attack.  After the pressure she had 
applied to his arm before, he couldn't use his full strength to resist.  
Soon she had his arm fully wrapped behind him. 

"Give up, Todd?  I really don't want to hurt you, but you're making me 
do this." 

In desperation Todd kicked backwards at where he thought her knee was.  
She saw it coming, but was so surprised that she was late in responding.  
She let out a cry of pain and went down, releasing his arm.  He turned 
to her in a defensive crouch, waiting for the feeling in his arm to 
return before he pressed on.  Marta lay on the floor flexing her leg 
back and forth to work her knee out, then stood up.  She looked 
determined, slightly flushed but still fresh, while Todd was breathing 
heavily. 

"Ok, then, round two."  She came at him with her fists, firing punches 
at his head, shoulders and midsection, not hard, but in continual 
motion.  Todd blocked them with his arms, but the force of her bare 
hands against his already bruised forearms was making him sore.  She 
left an opening for him and he let loose a blow to her stomach.  He felt 
her firm muscle impede his fist, but she doubled over slightly, and 
backed off.  She breathed heavily for a few seconds but then waded back 
in.  He tried to hit her there again, but this time she blocked the 
punch with her right arm and caught him in the cheek with a sharp left 
jab.  He spun around and staggered back.  She followed him quickly and 
landed another blow to his face, and Todd's nose started to spurt blood. 

"Oh no!  Are you all right?" 

He turned away.  "I didn't think we'd be boxing bare-fisted." 

"I'm so sorry.  I don't know about these things.  Did I break it?" 

"No, no it's just a nosebleed." 

"I'll get you a tissue." 

"I don't want your help," he said testily. 

"Well we can't fight with you dripping blood all over the rug.  Let's 
just stop here and call it a draw, ok?" 

He turned around, holding his head up to stop the bleeding.  "Offer 
refused." 

"Then you want to keep going?"  Todd just stared at her.  "You can't 
possibly want to continue?  I can go on like this all day, and look at 
you.  Nose bleeding, arms throbbing, chest heaving.  You're not in bad 
shape Todd, it's just that I recover so much more quickly.  If we keep 
at it you'll just get hurt." 

"Don't be so sure.  I had you going a few times." 

"This is so silly.  I really don't have any patience for you when you're 
in this mood.  I've got things I have to think about too." 

She paced back and forth.  "I know what I'll do.  I'm going up to 
Newport.  The house is always empty this time of year.  You can catch up 
at work, get back to normal and I'll have time for myself.  You can join 
me next weekend.  By the time we see each other again, you'll have 
calmed down, and so will I." 

Todd glared at her, but nodded.  She turned and went up to her room to 
pack.  Todd collapsed into a chair, then went to his room to shower and 
think. 

He drove in to work.  His desk was piled with phone messages and drafts 
of documents from the lawyers for the California and Germany deals, but 
he didn't want to face them.  He called Arnold instead and spun his 
chair around to look out of the window while he talked. 

"Hey, Todd.  I hear you're back at work.  Did a little black magic do 
the trick?" 

"Don't laugh!  I think I've turned Marta into Superwoman." 

"What?  Always a joker, eh Todd?" 

"I'm not joking.  Marta and I had a fight this morning and it was touch 
and go." 

"Come on.  You mean that girl beat you up?" 

"Hey, did I say that?  I handled her, but she put up a stiff fight.  I'm 
just....  You have to find a way to kill the spell." 

"What are you talking about Todd?  I sent you to some goofball in the 
Village.  Now you're talking like it's real or something." 

"It is real Arnold.  It's a long story, but the one you sent me to was 
too expensive.  She wanted a hundred grand so I told her to stuff it.  
Then she sends me to her daughter, whose also a witch...." 

"A cheap one, right?" 

"Yeah, and, shit, you don't believe me, do you?" 

"You can't kid a kidder." 

"What do I have to ... will you come with me?" 

"Where, the cheap one or the one you told to stuff it?" 

"The mother.  I can't get in to see the daughter for a couple of weeks." 

"Must be something going around." 

"Damn it Arnold, this is serious.  I need help." 

"Ok, ok.  You know I'm always here for you, buddy.  Name the time and 
the place." 

"McDougal Street, tonight at 10:00.  I'll call you back if I can't get 
an appointment." 

"You're on.  This should be good, one way or the other." 

*** 

Todd hung up.  There was a knock on the door and a young woman walked 
in. 

"Becky said I should introduce myself.  I'm Sharon, your new assistant." 

"Becky sent you?" 

"She told me to watch for you.  I've been keeping things organized while 
you were gone.  I hope everything is alright." 

"Oh it's fine, thanks." 

Sharon smiled nervously.  "Uh, Becky said she worked very closely with 
you.  I kind of got the feeling that the two of you, um, well, what I 
wanted to say was, uh...." 

Todd looked at her closely for the first time.  She certainly wasn't 
voluptuous like Becky, in fact, even though he knew he shouldn't, he 
searched hard for any trace of sensuality in her, and found none.  
That's probably why Becky sent her to him, less competition for Becky in 
the future, even though she was evidently not available to him just now.  
Sharon was younger, with pale skin and blond hair, thin and very 
conservatively dressed, almost like an executive.  The only hint of 
something else was the brightness of her lipstick, but was that 
intentional or an accident?  He thought back to earlier this morning.  
After that, could any other woman excite him, he wondered.  He felt 
drained and tired. 

"What I'm trying to say Mr. Bartel is I really want to be a good 
secretary for you, but if ...." 

"I'm sure you'll do fine Sharon.  What's very important to me right now 
is to catch up on my mail and not to waste time on the telephone.   
Would you be sure to hold all my calls?" 

"Yes," she said brightly, "and can I get you coffee?  A doughnut?" 

He shook his head.  "I'll call you if I need you." 

He watched her leave.  A few weeks ago he would have insisted on hiring 
his own assistant.  For now, whatever Becky's ulterior motives were, 
Sharon would suit him just fine. 

Todd worked through dinner and at nine he drove downtown, parked and 
barely got to Madame LaFarge's by ten.  Arnold was already with her. 

"Ah, Mr. Bartel.  I've been having a nice chat with your friend.  Young 
men are so charming.  He tells me you are worried about the spell you 
bought.  I explained to him there is nothing I can do because it is not 
my spell.  Why don't you see my daughter?" 

"I can't get an appointment.  Some kind of coven." 

"Oh of course.  The young witches' division.  They're probably all 
trading promotional videos and accounting programs.  Not to mention the 
papers on Gay Witchcraft and Witches and Madness, and especially The 
Semiotics of Chants.  So boring.  Ours are much more exciting!  Esoteric 
spells, stories of love, revenge, betrayal.  Good practical 
information."  

"Madame LaFarge, this spell is turning Marta into a monster!" 

"A monster?"  She closed her eyes for a moment.  "Why no, she's a very 
attractive woman now Mr. Bartel, and quite lively for a mortal.  I think 
you should be very pleased.  Here you're back in your uncle's good 
graces, and you're married now to a woman who is as impressive 
personally as she is wealthy.  Nice disposition too. Why are you 
unhappy?" 

"Wait.  What did you just do?" 

"A little research, you dear boy.  I can see you don't believe in 
witches.  But just because you don't believe, doesn't mean we don't 
exist." 

"Arnold, it's real.  I told you." 

"Oh yeah?  If you're a witch, then turn me into a frog." 

Madame LaFarge looked at him.  "Why do you want to be a frog?  Well, it 
won't do you any harm." 

Arnold disappeared and a small tree frog appeared in his place. 

"Arnold!  Change him back!" 

"Don't worry.  The experience will be good for him.  So long as he 
doesn't get eaten.  Let's talk first.  Mr. Bartel, I understand your 
unhappiness.  Marta has gone from being a pathetic wreck to being strong 
and self-sufficient, and thanks to your generosity, she'll just keep on 
improving.  You've even managed to give her complete control over the 
situation by telling her about the spell.  I admit I'm a little worried 
myself about how she'll cope with all of these enhancements, but that's 
one of the chief excitements of witchcraft, watching how you mortals 
struggle with the supernatural." 

"But I don't want her to keep getting better and better." 

Madame LaFarge snorted.  "I warned you about Michelle.  She always gives 
her customers what they ask for, not what they want." 

"Well then, can you make me like Marta?  So I can at least keep up with 
her." 

"Certainly not.  And Michelle won't do it either." 

"Why not?  I'll pay anything you ask this time.  I promise." 

"Money has nothing to do with it.  It's just impossible.  How can I 
explain it?  It would be like pushing two similar magnetic poles 
together.  You and your wife are part of a momtuu, an ancient word for a 
group of beings and objects that are linked. The application of a spell 
to part of the momtuu charges the whole set in a certain way, and no 
changes can be made to any other part of the momtuu without affecting 
the original spell, which your wife, not you, now controls, from the 
mortal side of course.  Besides, our code of ethics would never permit 
us to allow mortals arrange for spells to make themselves more powerful.  
You can imagine what that would lead to." 

"So you could do this only if Marta requested it?" 

"That's right.  And I'm not sure she could do it even if Marta asked.  
She used an ancient and very powerful spell on your wife, much more 
powerful than I would have used under the circumstances, and the forces 
flowing into her have channeled themselves quite securely in their 
current path.  I doubt Michelle even knows enough to alter their course.  
That kind of specialized spell is not the sort of work she normally 
does. Practical jokes, gusts of wind to push up a girl's dress, lucky 
lotto tickets.  That's more her type of work.  Which reminds me, where 
is that frog?"  She looked around, and laughed as Arnold popped out of 
one of the plants in the room, spitting a fly out of his mouth. 

"I can't believe I was just eating bugs." 

"Did you like being a frog, dear boy?" 

He looked at Madame LaFarge.  "I don't know.  It certainly was a lot 
simpler than being human.  And catching those bugs was so easy for me.  
Ok, so now I'm a believer.  What do we do next?" 

"We go home Arnold.  Madame LaFarge can't help me." 

"Wait, I have a question, if it's alright Todd.  So, what's going to 
happen to Marta?  Does she become all-powerful, all-knowing?  A goddess 
or something?  A witch?" 

"A witch?  Ha!  That's a good one.  It's not in her blood.  As for being 
a goddess, well, I've never met one so I wouldn't know.  Ha, ha!  I must 
admit I am not thoroughly familiar with that spell.  So we shall see, my 
friends.  Now, you must go.  I have a paying client coming at eleven and 
I must prepare.  No, no, I wouldn't accept your money for this little 
chat.  It has been my pleasure." 

They walked out onto the street.  "Hey Todd, she's really great.  Sounds 
like you should have hired her." 

"I know.  Let's just get drunk." 

*** 

Todd had planned to go to Newport the next weekend, but didn't. The 
California deal took a lot longer than he'd expected, and soon he found 
himself buried in the swarm of opportunities arising from the public's 
infatuation with the internet. There were some good companies out there, 
and Todd made sure that his company kept a piece of each of them, but 
many more were just plays on the excitement of the moment.  These were 
perfect "flip" vehicles: buy in at $10 and resell to the public at $50.  
Todd made sure there would be no scandals; he had the lawyers hard at 
work.  And he drew the line at a company that marketed 3-D glasses as an 
internet peripheral.  But Becky was winking at him again, and from that 
Todd deduced that Uncle Richard was speaking highly of him, a fact Becky 
would not ignore in her own personal plans.  His pleasure in his success 
at work and in its likely consequences, both on the job and off, helped 
him forget the pain of his last day with Marta, but he still was not 
running back to see her again. 

Months passed and Marta was still in Newport, almost incommunicado 
except for e-mail.  She refused to use the telephone, which was both 
disappointing and a bit of a relief, because her velvet voice took him 
to incredible heights of desire each time he'd call.  In fact, she'd 
stopped asking when he'd come, and Todd sensed she preferred to be 
alone.  Each time, just as he would hint that he was ready to spend some 
time with her, she'd send him a long letter describing decorating plans 
for some room of the house, asking his opinion of fabrics and furniture 
styles and suggesting he visit some showrooms with their designer.  Todd 
could think of nothing less interesting, and he wondered whether she was 
actually trying to keep him away.  In any case, it was working. 

It was Uncle Richard who again sent Todd back to Marta, who had decided 
to do some renovation work at the house (without Todd's contributions on 
decorating).  She also had warned her uncle that she needed to increase 
security after a series of attempted burglaries. 

"I don't know what Newport is coming to.  The townspeople used to know 
enough to keep their thieving to each other.  And I don't see why Marta 
refuses to call the police.  We've always been very generous to them.  
Even if the police don't know who did it, they can do one of their 
sweeps.  You know, I've learned that a few bashed heads works better 
than high walls and alarms.  It's a small town up there and people get 
the message.  See what you can do." 

Todd was nearly there before he telephoned Marta.  She sounded annoyed 
on the phone, but her voice was so seductive, even over the static of 
the car phone, that Todd had to ease his Porsche onto the shoulder to 
carry on the conversation without having an accident. 

"I don't need you here, Todd.  But, oh well, if Uncle Richard insists, I 
suppose you're going to come no matter what I say.  Just wait at the 
door until Babette takes you inside." 

"Babette?  What about the butler, Cecil?  Did he finally die or 
something?" 

He heard a laugh.  "Funny you should say that.  Well, almost, I guess.  
I put him on paid leave until I go.  You'll understand when you come.  
Just do as she tells you, ok?" 

Todd pulled into the circular driveway in front of the house and carried 
his bag up to the front door, noting that the boy who usually parked the 
car was missing too.  The air was fragrant with something he couldn't 
identify, and he looked forward to seeing Marta.  The door opened and 
Todd stepped inside.  Babette was waiting for him. 

"Put your bag down and unbutton your pants, please sir."  Todd stared at 
her dumbly.  "Now, sir, please, if you would." 

"What do you "  Suddenly, something hit Todd with hurricane force, a 
shock wave that penetrated his skin and his nostrils, his taste buds and 
finger tips, engulfing him in a torrent of desire that sent his heart 
racing and snapped his member upright instantly.  Todd's whole body went 
rigid with confusion.  Babette sighed and knelt down, unbuttoning his 
pants.  While he watched, insensible to all except his urgent need, she 
quickly unfolded a small piece of cloth, wrapped it around the tip of 
his penis and with a few strokes brought him to a powerful orgasm.  He 
staggered as she folded the cloth and dropped into a bag. 

"Forgive me sir.  Madam's instructions.  Now, allow me to show you to 
your room, quickly, before I will find it necessary to do that again." 

Skin tingling, Todd followed obediently to a first floor room.  Babette 
closed the door, flipped two switches that started an air circulation 
system and curtseyed.  "Madam will contact you.  Please wait here."  
Todd thought he saw a slight smirk on her face as she left.  He heard a 
lock turn in the door. 

"Hey, what are you doing?" he called through the door. 

"Madam's instructions again sir, if you please," she replied cheerfully. 

Todd grimaced, then unpacked and showered.  When he came out of the 
bathroom, there was a typewritten message for him waiting on the writing 
table. 

"You understand now why we cannot meet in person.  The spell has 
amplified my attractiveness to such an extent that I must avoid contact 
with men.  This is why I had the problems with intruders.  They were 
drawn here from miles away.  Although I have limited the circulation of 
air from the house, the effect continues to increase." 

"You are welcome to stay as long as you like, but the door will remain 
locked, for your own protection.  Babette will assist you when you enter 
and leave.  If you wish to do so without having her service you 
personally, I recommend that you masturbate immediately prior to leaving 
your room, but she will escort you to prevent any possibility of 
overexposure.  Although the power of my pheromones shortens your latency 
period considerably, it should give you sufficient time to traverse the 
hallway from your room to the front door, and, with a little self 
control on your part, the effect should be manageable for you outside 
the house until you leave the estate." 

"You will have to find a way to explain this to Uncle Richard, as I do 
not want to take the risk of speaking with him directly.  The poor dear, 
it might kill him." 

Todd frowned.  He couldn't believe the effect was really so strong, but 
he had felt entirely overcome when he entered the house, and even her 
voice had sent fingers of desire through him.  He rang for dinner, 
phoned some clients and wrote out a reply. 

"I must see you.  There must be a way.  I am your husband, after all." 

He gave the message to Babette.  An hour later, she returned with 
another typewritten letter. 

"Do you know what happened the last time I went out, a month ago?  I 
dressed in a chador, fully veiled like an orthodox Moslem woman, wearing 
sunglasses, my face covered, gloves over my wrists.  Walter couldn't 
drive the car straight with me inside, so I took over.  I walked down 
the street and cars kept turning onto the sidewalk and would have run me 
down if I hadn't been quick enough.  Men would leave their wives on the 
sidewalk and run up to me to touch me, pulling at my veil.  I stopped 
going out, and soon the break-ins began. 

"Wait awhile.  I sense that I will progress to a different level soon 
and it may be easier." 

Todd grew flushed reading the note.  He looked at Babette.  "I need to 
go out."  

She nodded.  "Shall I get the cloth sir?"  He looked at her slender 
body, her soft hands. 

"I'll, uh, take care of it myself." 

"Very good, sir.  Let me know when you're ready for me to escort you." 

Babette withdrew.  Todd waited an interval, then knocked.  Babette 
opened the door and Todd walked out, again struck by the scent like a 
bolt of lightening.  Babette raised her eyebrows and dropped to her 
knee. 

"Madam does know best, sir."  While he turned his head rapidly to sense 
where Marta was, Babette unbuttoned his pants again and with two stokes 
brought Todd to another climax.  Todd sighed, then pulled up his pants 
and ran up the stairs. 

"Sir!  Please, don't!"  Then louder, "Madam, he's coming to you!" 

He reached the top of the landing and turned toward her room.  His blood 
was already boiling, and he felt himself start to stiffen already.  A 
door opened in front of him and Marta stepped out.  He looked at her and 
felt like every blood vessel in his body was about to explode. 

She stood wearing a loose t-shirt and shorts, but on her it looked like 
the gown of Venus.  She was awesome; her breasts put a heavy strain on 
the top part of the fabric, which tapered drastically to her tiny waist 
then streamed out again to hug her womanly hips.  Her arms and legs were 
rounded with muscle, but certainly not larger than his, Todd somehow 
noticed.  He fell to the carpet, his legs lacking the strength to 
support him. 

"I didn't think you would listen.  It's a good thing you have a strong 
heart." 

"I can't believe it.  You look like, like 

"You may use the term goddess, Todd.  That is where I'm heading.  Very 
soon my power over men will have transcended the sexual stage and men 
and women may all worship me as a divine being.  And for all I can tell, 
they may be right.  Even now, before I make that leap, my powers are 
extraordinary.  You look uncomfortable.  Let me help."  She curled her 
fingers and Todd felt a brief spasm of pressure on his penis.  He came 
instantly.  "If you don't mind, Todd, I'll just take care of that every 
few minutes or so.  Otherwise you'll get very sick.  I don't think you 
have enough control over your fingers at this close range to take care 
of it yourself.  Am I right?"  Todd nodded. 

"Good.  I imagine that outwardly I look a lot like Becky.  Is this how 
her arms look?" 

"I think yours may be a little bigger, but I'm not sure.  I never paid 
much attention to her arms." 

Marta nodded.  "And this is what you wanted me to look like?  Large 
breasts, fit body."  She walked up and down the hallway, her flesh 
rippling and undulating with each step. Todd's jaw hung open as he 
watched her, his knees weakened.  Marta winked at him, then held her 
hand up in a loose fist and shook it, like she was mixing a pair of 
dice.  Todd felt a welcome explosion in his groin and relaxed. 

"You're perspiring, Todd, and also getting your pants very wet.  Should 
I have Babette bring you some water?  I don't want you to get 
dehydrated." 

"Yes, water would be nice," Todd rasped. 

Marta signaled to Babette, who brought Todd a glass of water and 
returned down the stairs.  He took it with shaking hands and drank, 
spilling a third of it on his shirt.  Feeling slightly fortified, he 
approached Marta slowly, then, overcome, leapt on top of her.  She 
caught him, and, standing firm, held him slightly away from her. 

"What are you trying to do, Todd, as if I didn't know.  The answer is 
no!  It really wouldn't do anything for me, you know, you'd come in a 
couple of seconds, and actually the idea of intimate contact with you is 
a little disgusting to me.  Oh dear, you're suffering again."  She lay 
him on the ground and shook her finger at him.  Todd came again and lay, 
exhausted, on the rug.  "I'm going back to my room.  I'm not going to 
carry you downstairs, so I'll ask Babette to help you.  Please don't try 
this again, Todd.  I'm sure it's as embarrassing for you as it is for 
me." 

Todd struggled to rise to his feet to stop her, but the door closed and 
locked before he was halfway up.  Babette helped him stand and they 
slowly walked down the stairs, although they had to make a brief stop on 
the first landing for Babette to minister to his overtaxed member.  Todd 
collapsed in his room, slept for a few hours, then rang Babette. 

"I'm leaving for now.  I can't stay here.  Please tell Marta I'll be in 
touch with her as soon as I can." 

"Very good sir.  Madam asks that I tell you please to drive home 
safely." 

He looked at her, armed with a fresh cloth, shook his head, and strode 
firmly out the door and into the Porsche, although his hands shook until 
he reached the end of the block, where he discretely masturbated until 
he was completely drained. 

Todd drove south on I-95 until he reached New Haven, then checked into a 
hotel.  He first called Arnold. 

"...she's even referring to herself as a goddess, Arnold.  And she's got 
all sorts of powers.  She beat me off without even touching me." 

"Come off it, Todd.  It's just the power of suggestion.  You must have a 
weak will." 

Todd scowled.  "You don't know what you're talking about Arnold.  Well, 
if you're not going to help me, screw you!" 

"I didn't 

Todd hung up before Arnold replied.  Then he checked his voice mail.  
There was a message from Madame LaFarge. 

Continued ...