A Witch's Thoughts

"Mnnnnn... mnnn..."

After a few months of doing this thing, I was pretty experienced. At some point, sucking boys off had become a common occurrence in my life. Take off your clothes, turn him on, get on your knees and go. When they finally came, it was like I was being rewarded for my efforts. I guess it was like a kind of psychological conditioning.

But I was the one in control.

"Fuck, that feels so fucking good..."

I noticed that, no matter how sophisticated their vocabulary seemed at first, men would resort to simple words and phrases when being pleasured by a witch. This guy in particular was speaking in confident, long-winded language just before, but now he just sounded submissive.

"H-holy fuck---!"

If he had known those would be his last words, would he have chosen differently? Or would his hormone filled brain not have known anything else to say? That was the thought going through my head this time.

He was coming. His hands started to grip the bed sheets so tightly that I could hear it, even through all the sucking. I myself was gripping his thigh with one hand, just as tightly. My eyes were mostly closed, but I could still see the faint glow of his life accumulating near the base of his dick.

As his cock pulsed in my mouth, he made a sound, halfway between a moan and a scream. The glowing light became brighter, brighter, and finally, I felt his load hit the back of my mouth...

It wasn't just semen. It was his life energy, and his soul. Hot, delicious. Every guy was a little bit different. You could always taste their overwhelming euphoria, but sometimes you would get notes of confusion, regret, and despair. They're bitter emotions, but after acquiring a taste for them, I now savored every last drop.

As I took his cock out of my mouth, I made sure to push his body back onto the bed so he wouldn't fall over onto me. I swished my tongue around in my mouth a bit, enjoying the flavor, and then swallowed. Instinctively, I looked towards the mirror on my door. My body was pretty. Somehow I was more sure of that than ever before.

Human souls are so bright, you can even see them glowing through your body. In the mirror, I watched his spirit slide down my throat, slowly, until he reached my stomach, knowing that his fate had been completely sealed. There was something satisfying about it, so I guess at some point it ended up becoming a part of my blowjob routine.

---

This was my life as a witch. Like the ones you might be thinking of, but also different. Witches in the past, and still most of them now, don't have enough power to do anything besides conjure up events that could just as easily have been coincidences. That's what happens when you only have a single spirit, your own, to tap into for magical energy. But at some point in the modern era, one of us got ahold of some other humans' souls. More souls means better, more powerful magic, including magic that lets you absorb souls or transfer them to someone else. The only caveat is that, in order to collect a spirit, you have to drain it at the moment when it's most vulnerable. This could be from a near death experience or an orgasm. Guess which option witches decided to use?

The boy's body was laying still on my bed. His skin now had a slightly gray tint to it, like some of the color had been taken out of him.

"Poof."

That spell was all it took to make his body disappear. Maple, my teacher, had taught it to me.

It's no wonder that the general public still has no idea what's causing the "mysterious" disappearances of men. There were tons of spells for covering up your tracks.

I sat there on my knees, breathing in the moment. I felt refreshed. Taking his soul felt like taking some divine, euphoric drug. Honestly, I was probably addicted. Draining was on my mind more than I'd like to admit.

Everything that had happened that day raced through my mind. I had gotten a few boys off of dating apps before, but this was the first one that I matched with and drained on the same day. It was almost surreal to think about. If he hadn't swiped right on me this morning, he would be alive right now. His soul would still be in his own body, instead of trapped inside of mine.

He didn't really have much of a choice, though. Since becoming a witch, my appearance had changed, from all the newfound energy flowing through me. I had more self confidence than before. Looking at the pictures on my profile, he probably swiped without a second thought. When we matched, he probably thought I was his luckiest catch yet.

I looked at the clock. 10:47PM. A decent time for bed. I'd been up late studying magic the last few nights, so I needed to get back on normal sleep schedule.

After I had gotten comfy under the sheets, more thoughts came to me. It wasn't quite doubt, maybe more like curiosity. What I'd done, what I did all the time, could probably be considered murder. Murder is wrong, plain and simple. But what I did didn't feel wrong. Why was that?

I guess killing people isn't always considered wrong. In war, it happens all the time, right? I guess the difference would be that the guys I find are considered innocent civilians. But I could argue that that's vague too. Personally, I wouldn't consider anyone of the male sex to be innocent. And if what we witches do is considered a war against those who have oppressed us, then maybe that explains why I don't feel any remorse for them.

Besides, all the men I drained could've certainly have a worse fate. I don't know what it feels like to have your consciousness trapped inside someone else, but I'm sure it's not painful. In a world where the afterlife is uncertain, I'm sure they'd agree it's better than just dying, right?

I guess it doesn't matter. My thoughts started to get more complex, more strange, until I didn't quite recognize them, and at some point I was sound asleep.