Therese closed the door quietly, and let her magical senses reach out into the dark apartment. The door hadn't been touched, her wards informed her, but she knew well enough that there were many other ways to get into an apartment. Especially for her enemies.
As usual, traces of unintentional magic drifted through the astral space, along with bits and bobs of more or less random impressions, thoughts and desires that her neighbors had set in motion and then forgotten about. No traces of intentional magic. She stood still. On the street below, sirens blared as a police car raced past. The apartment was quiet.
There was... something, though. Like a scent, or the hint of a scent. A ghostly dream-image of a perfume, except it wasn't a smell. It was magical, but it was so faint and subtle she wasn't sure it was there. It could be her imagination, playing tricks on her after a tiring day. They had tracked a woman by her perfume today, so it wasn't that far-fetched.
She wavered. If someone had been here, to spy on her or to set a trap, the traces would be subtle. On the other hand - if she was making it up, it would be subtle too. She drew her perception back to herself, and then imagined ice - cold, hard, perfect ice. That would clear it. She reached out again. No scent now, no dream-images.
With a sigh, she turned on the lights and let the matter drift out of her awareness. She was really, really tired. It had been a long day, and a stressful one, with one long-running case suddenly interrupted by no less than two emergencies. They'd managed to deal with them, in the process saving a young store clerk from being enslaved by the new upstart among the city's magical criminals. It had been a pretty close call. Partly because Therese and the others hadn't taken him very seriously. The Great Steve -- really?
Cheesy Steve, rather. He was unexpectedly competent and dangerous, though. He seemed to have a thing for bimbos, and Therese shook her head as she remembered the spell he'd been trying to push onto the poor young woman. She would have looked like a living sex doll.
Too bad that he'd gotten away, and so easily. It hadn't seemed easy at the time, when he'd used the confusion of the moment to flood the store with screams and moans. Everyone had been disoriented, and in the brief instant it took Therese to unravel the weirdly twisting spell he'd gotten away. By running out the door.
Nobody had said anything, but she'd sensed the Magical Justice Squad's reputation as superheroes had taken a bit of a bruising. Not that they were superheroes, she thought and made a face at herself in the mirror. Just people, with some magical skills. And very tired muscles.
Perhaps she should take a bath? A nice, hot bath.
She hesitated a moment and decided bath first, dinner later. She had some leftovers she could heat, it would be quick. She went to her bedroom to undress and get her robe.
She knew she'd screwed up the moment she opened her bathroom door. One, she never closed her bathroom door. Two, there was a necklace hanging from the light fixture, emanating a complex, subtle spell. And three, there was a naked, voluptuous bimbo in her bathtub.
Therese had frozen mid-step, her foot still in the air, and fought the pull of the spell. The shielding had been very good - she could feel the spell pulling at her, but it was cut cleanly in half and did not reach her back at all. She was right at the border, and she wanted to look up and see the enchantments that cut the spell off so cleanly. She couldn't, she knew. Any loss of concentration could be fatal.
The spell was urging her towards the bimbo. Who was striking, even without the spell manipulating her eyes. Blonde, of course, with long, wavy blonde hair spilling over her shoulders, cascading over the edges of the tub. Blonde, and blue-eyed, with plump, red lips and a blazing, stunning smile. She was sitting in the tub, her lower body beneath the foam, and her enormous, perfect tits rose out of it, with foam suds sliding across the swelling expanse.
"She's perfect," a voice whispered in Therese's mind, "a perfect bimbo. She's made for pleasure, for sex, for fucking. Go fuck her, go kiss her, go lick her pussy, go lose yourself between those marvelous mounds." It was the spell, pulling at her body and tempting her mind. It was having an effect, too - her pussy was starting to warm up.
"Hello lady," the bimbo said, her eyes wide and trusting. Her voice dripped like honey in Therese's ears.
She had to step back. Get out from the spell, close the door, and then... And then - what? She wasn't sure. It was not trivial. It might be better to wait for a man to come around, to take care of it. Men were good at fixing things, taking care of things. Broken light bulbs, leaky faucets, unwanted spells in the bathroom. She was just a woman. She should let the men handle things. She could go over to the bimbo and enjoy herself, while she waited for a man to fix things.
No, she told herself. That's the spell. It's trying to manipulate me. I can fix this. I will fix this. I am just as capable as a man.
Of course she was. She was a competent, professional woman. Not like that bimbo over there, who was just a sex toy. Therese's lips curled up in a contemptuous smile. Such a vapid, sexy thing, rubbing her own tits and moaning softly with pleasure. Therese should show her what a real woman could do to a plaything like her.
No! She shouldn't. She should take a step back, just a step, out of the room, and close it. Ignore the bimbo.
She gritted her teeth. The spell was unusually adaptable. It shifted its approach instantly when she countered its proposals. Well, she was adaptable too. Let's see how it handled this. She should step back, she thought again. Just step out of the room.
Exactly, her mind continued, the spell continuing the train of thought for her. That was the ticket. Ignore the bimbo. Leave it alone. All alone, all lonely and pathetic with only its own hands for pleasure, to rub over those awesome boobs, and into that warm, soft, wet pussy. Let it play with itself and feel sorry that nobody wanted it. It was made for pleasure, but nobody liked it. Nobody wanted it. That served it right, the dumb thing. Therese wasn't a bimbo. She was an independent, free woman, who ruled herself. She wasn't ruled by her pussy, like silly miss big-boobed fucktoy over there.
"Lady?" the bimbo said, in its high-pitched, girlish voice. "Do I not please you, lady?" The bimbo sat up, and Therese inhaled sharply as the bimbo's chest rose out of the foamy water. The bimbo cupped her gigantic, gorgeous, perfectly round breasts and smiled hopefully at Therese. Her eyes were uncertain, sad.
Therese struggled to look away from those breasts. They were amazing, and impossible. She'd never seen anything like them. They had to be magical, to float in the air like that. And so big. Larger than volleyballs, almost like basketballs, but they looked soft and juicy as the bimbo softly kneaded them. Not at all like fake, plastic silicon boobs.
They're perfect, the spell whispered to her. She gritted her teeth and tried to ignore it. It was probing, trying to find a way to sneak under her defenses. She had to think about something else. Anything but her inconvenient, secret fascination with really huge tits. She wasn't a lesbian, but she'd always had this secret attraction to impossibly big breasts. Just looking, though. She had no urge to touch.
Why not, she thought. No, that was the spell. Why not touch, it said. Or at least look close up. She'd never see a pair like these again, and they were right here, right in her bathroom, in her bathtub. She was heading there anyway, to take a bath, and the bimbo had already poured the hot water for her. Just go over, and have a look. The bimbo wouldn't mind. It was made to please, to be on display.
It was just an object. Nothing to worry about. Therese could go in and order it out of her bathtub, command it to stand beside it while she herself slid into the hot water. And then she could finally relax. She could let her hand drift down between her legs, and play with her pussy while the bimbo stood beside the bathtub, at obedient attention, and
Therese could look up at it, up at those glorious tits.
She could send the bimbo away, later. That was better than sending herself away, than backing out of her own bathroom. This was her place. Her apartment. She lived here.
Damn! This was too close to her own thoughts. She was angry about the intrusion, and about her own failure to detect it. How had they gotten past her wards? They'd signaled everything was good.
Therese closed her eyes and tried to marshal her thoughts. The spell had whispered so much in among them... Which were her own? She'd come home after a tiring day at work, right. Had decided to take a relaxing bath. Had found a bimbo in the bathtub. She couldn't take a bath as long as the bimbo was there. So get the bimbo out. Then take the bath, and relax. After that, send the bimbo away, and fix things up. Right. So, step one. Tell the bimbo to get out.
