The Fantasy Boo

Renee finds the Fantasy Book and can't help but explore her darkest wishes.

-Everyone is over 18 and themes are mind control and magic related.

****

Renee had just slumped down in her seat on the cold, windy ferry ride back to the mainland. She was shaken, not just by the rough waters, but by an experience she had just had on the island the day before. She had thought to herself, "no, this is nuts. I can't be really a part of something like this..." as she skimmed her phone aimlessly to remove her thoughts from where they had been.

All the while, she was clutching her messenger bag, brought with her on the now 2-day excursion to the remote Scottish isle. Within the bag were simple things, items any student in the early 21st century would carry. No laptop due to the weathering elements on this particular trip; but there were notebooks, pens, some guidebooks and pamphlets for the region. She also had an overnight bag with warm clothes given the region. Of course, there was one more thing in Renee's bag. This is what she clutched to as she began to drift to sleep on the 2.5 hour boat trip back to shore.

the strange experiences ran through her mind, repeating to her, continuing to betray her as well. Renee had been on a trip as part of her PhD course at St. Andrews University. She was an anthropology PhD and was particularly specialized in native, pre-Roman Empire British Isles cultures, and more particularly, Scotland's early peoples. However, the experience she just had was unrelated to her studies. Or so she thought.

In simplest terms, Renee had just had the most clandestine, yet most deeply satisfying sexual encounter she has had in her 29 years. She took the trip alone, knowing how to gather and assess the research information she was visiting on the trip. This left her to her own devices, and on this visit, she found herself taking full advantage of some very local hospitality.

****

Earlier that morning:

Renee sat with a slightly damp notebook across her lap, riding peacefully on the creaking wagon ride back from the shoreline. It was a bit picturesque, what with the wagon and all, but Renee had other thoughts. She was bashful, embarrassed, but not ashamed. She could flirt for sure, but that was something! She and a visiting researcher for the day had flirted and eventually made out on top of an old wooden table crafted by Vikings. They tested it before sitting or leaning; but they definitely needed the leverage as they attacked each others' tongues as they lost some control for a brief while.

He had dropped some massive bullshit about finding a sex journal, hidden underneath an old clothing chest of a Viking noblewoman. Renee knew better, but for some reason, enjoyed the flirtation and played along long enough to hear how intense his innuendos were. He gave her the notebook afterwards as a gesture, dismissing it as something someone must have planted there. It didn't even feel that old.

"Why did you even call it a sex journal?" Renee asked.

"Oh, it is. I mean, the language on there refers explicitly to sexual prowess and promiscuousness." He realized he said this last word a bit too loudly given the echoes of the chamber they were in. But they were alone, so no repercussion at the moment.

"Yeah right, you mean some weirdo left a sex journal and you found it." Renee retorted back, although she had to admit the book had a genuine language she did not understand on the front.

"Look, keep it. Write something down in it, maybe it'll remind you of me sometime..." he said with a wink before they parted ways. They kissed once more and Renee never saw him again.

She did, however, decide to write in the journal. No, it was most certainly a notebook. The format was much more linear, lines on the page (which definitely meant it wasn't Viking). But it kept appealing to Renee, and she was simply a curious person. She did remember fondly on kissing the researcher.

Renee had always had a history of journaling, or at least, noting important or emotional things in her life. Just for fun, because the book called to her, she wrote in the front cover, "This is my Sex Book." To mean that she would write her sexual ideas, thoughts, fears, fantasies, all in this book.

At that moment, she flipped back through the book to the final page, and then returned to the front once more. But on reaching the front cover again, a second page appeared with some text she had not seen before. Strange, as it wasn't terribly small text. The second front page had scrawled in Roman letters, "Le Livre de Fantasie" which was French.

"What the fuck?" Renee spoke softly. "I mean it fits what I'm going for here I guess, Fantasy Book." She decided to leave that second page intact, rather than tear it out or write over it in some way. She liked the sound of it, even though she only knew minimal French.

On that first night after finding the book, she sat in her chambers at the lighthouse, before heading back to the lodge the following day. In that dark room, with windy ocean spray slapping up against her window, she let her mind drift to the researcher, pressing his lips and his body against hers. The way his tongue invaded, no, she welcomed him into her mouth. Reflecting was making her warm and fuzzy, which for Renee usually lead swiftly into horny.

Renee luxuriated in the feeling, always soothed and feeling secure around oceans. She allowed herself to drift into some darker places of her mind... then she felt like writing a fantasy in the book.

She grabbed a dark green pen, as green was her favorite color and also the color of arousal, and began to scribe her naughty idea as she whispered aloud to herself.

"My fantasy is that I can show myself off for the lighthouse keeper, without any negative outcomes." As this was her first little fantasy, she didn't elaborate on what "showing off" meant, nor provided any additional details. As she wrote, she pictured the aging but handsome lighthouse keeper who rented her the room for the night following her research.

He had glanced at her once, just once, with a raised eyebrow of perhaps inquisition, or interest. She had shared one coffee with him while she did her morning check in the day before. That simple flash of a gleaming stare surprised Renee, allowing her mind now writing in the book to fantasize further.

Upon finishing the sentence, Renee felt a small tingle in her crotch, not her clit exactly but that inner gut clenching of arousal at the idea of something hot and dirty. Naturally, Renee wanted to sleep a little exposed just in case the opportunity arose. She never once really thought it would happen though.

Yet, as humans do, she needed to pee in the middle of the night. She got up in the dark, still drowsy and half-dressed as she softly padded her way down the shared hallway to the toilets. Upon sitting down, she heard a rustle from the wall next door which she knew to be the lighthouse keeper's room.

The toilets were a shared communal space, with both parties acknowledging the shared situation with consent up front, "we're all adults here" they said to each other. Renee became only slightly nervous, as she still needed to begin peeing but now heard the Keeper shifting his way town the hallway to her current location. There were three stalls, no need for him to disrupt her in any way.

But the fantasy she wrote down came to her mind, and she felt strangely welcome to the idea. She did wear less than normal so as to be exposed after all. It wasn't planned--it couldn't be planned since she didn't know when he would get up to pee. But sitting there, waiting to pee, with her panties at her ankles and nothing but a crop top white t-shirt on, she waited for him.

Renee heard the toilet room door swing open, and she muffled a small cough to indicate her presence to him. He stopped short--or that's what she assumed as she heard his footsteps cease briefly as he heard her noise. He then continued walking. She heard his hands grazing the wall side where her stall was positioned. She had felt she could sit and pee in the dark, so never turned on the small lamp in the toilet room. The Keeper also left it off, knowing the place far better than Renee did. He felt his way along the wall with her stall.

Then, suddenly his hand pushed against her stall and swung open the door ever so softly. Both Renee and the Keeper heard the creak, but neither moved to stop it. Renee thought to herself, "well, there's plausible deniability that I was just half asleep or didn't hear the door creak." But she did not push it shut. She realized sitting there, waiting for the Keeper to move on, that she still had not yet peed.

She saw through the small crack in the door, with very little light, the gleam in the eye of the Keeper. She met his glance, not sure if he was awake or also half locked into a dream. Perhaps this was all a dream. But Renee kept eye contact with him, then began to piss.

She felt something stir within her... and in her vulnerable state, she leaned into it like a dream as well. She peed, allowing her pussy to relax and the stream to flow. She took her hands and gripped her knees, as something strange was happening. As her urine was ejecting from her pee hole, she felt her clit exciting. Something about peeing was turning her on, no, being watched peeing was turning her on.

She never broke eye contact, but lifted her left hand to her right nipple, while keeping her right hand on her knee, slowly moving her fingers inward toward her thighs. The Keeper shifted slightly, Renee only hoped it was him removing his cock. Her hand on her leg rest near the opening of her pussy now, trickling pee into the bowl as she also spread her legs a bit more than needed. Within the darkness, Renee's eyes were locked into the Keepers like a trance. But she wasn't sure if she was in his, or he was in hers.

She finished peeing, and then the wildest thing happened. She orgasmed right there, in front of the keeper. She felt it, despite not allowing herself to make a sound. But she felt the sweeping tingle and ecstatic climax as her pee stream released its final few jets. She never closed her eyes, and her mouth even gaped slightly as she quivered there, holding herself silently in place as she was watched cumming by the Keeper.

She then realized she wasn't sure what to do next. Without speaking, she pinched her nipple once more and that is when she accidentally let out a soft groan of pain pleasure. At this noise, the Keeper's eye closed and he seemingly disappeared into the room, finding the farthest stall where Renee heard him softly urinating too. She wiped up and left before the Keeper was done, never meeting his gaze again that night. But she heard herself panting, and wondered if maybe she heard the Keeper panting too in his stall as she left.

The next morning, Renee woke up from something raunchy in her dreams which she was disappointed she could not remember upon waking. She did, however, remember the incident from the night before. She still lay in her panties and cropped t-shirt only, so her attire matched the scenario last night. But was it real, or something she imagined? She knew she wrote the fantasy in the book, but was that the same scenario she wrote? "No negative outcomes" was just meant to be, like, nobody sues her or bans her from staying at the lighthouse again. But something about knowing the Keeper saw her, in a highly vulnerable, aroused, peeing state made Renee quiver with anticipation. Anticipation at seeing the Keeper this morning to gauge his behavior interacting with her.

When Renee joined the Keeper that morning in his kitchen, the two shared some typical morning pleasantries as if nothing had happened. They shared coffee and some pastries the Keeper had bought from the nearby village. Gone were Renee's thoughts of her PhD research for now--she had time to consider the findings once she returned to the mainland.

Renee had spent the night after peeing rolling over scenarios and possibilities for what had happened in her mind, assuming it was not purely a dream. Certainly, the make-out with the researcher was strange, and he had called it a sex book. She had felt strangely normal calling her book the sex book, and it completely aligned with the mysterious title page "le livre de fantasie" despite it not being anywhere near France. Then the incident showing off for the Keeper, after writing the words "show myself off" in the book. Could this be a magic book? She was a scientific type, and deduced that if there were magic in the world, as many early inhabitants of the Scottish isles believed, this notebook might contain such magics.

She repeated this in her head, then laughed aloud in front of the Keeper. He raised his eyebrow again, like he did that time when she first wondered about his interests. Yet, she was so curious. She returned up to her bedroom briefly to grab the notebook. There, just as she had written the night before, her words were there in green ink. "Certainly there must be a way to test this more directly," she thought to herself. She picked up the same green pen, hoping to replicate the same circumstances as the night before. She wrote on a second line below the first sentence, "Nudity is completely normal in this lighthouse, for everyone who lives or stays here. Clothing is also welcome, nobody shames anyone for how they are feeling in their body on any given day. But nudity is always welcome and often practiced unless there's reasons to stay clothed."

She re-read it and wished she had thought longer. That wasn't a very broad fantasy. Then again, specificity might help to indicate how much it was about the notebook's theorized power. She closed the notebook upon writing this, and again, felt a strange internal clenching, not more intense than before, but a sort of different color. Warm like arousal, cool like refreshing water, spicy like the mediterranean. She had forgotten that the sensation felt good after closing the book last night as well. She had put it down to how aroused she had been in that moment, but this was an acute washing over of sensation upon closing the book. "That's a good sign..." she muttered as she also felt her pussy dampen.

Renee stood from her desk alone, realizing her legs were shaky, and returned downstairs to the Keeper. He was still dressed. "Oh damn, wow, I must be losing my mind," she thought internally. "Why would I think this would just work so immediately or like magic?" She rolled her eyes at herself and returned to the conversation with the Lighthouse owner-occupant.

Toward the end of their small breakfast, enjoying the chatting so much she forgot about her notebook, Renee stood to begin packing to leave. But in doing so, she bumped the table on which sat her empty coffee mug, but the Keeper's half-full cup. In bumping the table his coffee spilled out onto his trousers. "Oh no!" cried Renee, genuinely embarrassed and feeling awkward.

"No, no, it's all fine." Chuckled the Keeper. "I own dozens of these plain old work trousers, no harm no foul." He stood up.

Without any preamble or insinuation, the Keeper stood from his chair, wiped off the actively wet portions of the table and seat, then casually unbuckled his trousers and removed them in front of Renee. "Oof, looks like you got it soaked all through to my boxers!" The Keeper smiled and began removing those as well right in front of Renee.

"Um, I'm so sorry..." Renee stammered out. She actually was caught off guard not only by the Keeper's nudity but also the fact he was packing a girthy 10 inch cock. Renee couldn't look away, she felt her loins stir once more. Something about getting the exact fantasy, the exact outcome she wanted... it was intoxicating to her.

"Jesus fuck... that thing is huge..." she whispered to herself, not even realizing she spoke aloud where the Keeper could hear her. they were both still just standing in the lighthouse kitchen.

"Oh, well, I appreciate that young lady. It's always nice to get a compliment." He spoke without sarcasm, but not without some subtle suggestion of flirtation. "You know I appreciated your show last night too, if it's not too bold for me to say."

There it was--he just brought it out into the open. Renee's face flushed, but she wasn't sure why since the keeper was the one who was standing with his pants off and cock swinging in the open. "Oh, uh, I'm sorry?" she sort of half stated, half asked him in case he had other thoughts. He did.

"Oh please, you think it's the first time a hot woman like you has shown herself off to an old grounds man like me? I wasn't born yesterday honey. I just wanted to be sure you were alright with putting on the show. Consent and all." He smiled again, idly running his fingers along his shaft as if he didn't notice himself.

"I, uh... wow. This is so um, I'm not used to this, I'm sorry." The Keeper looked mildly confused but also knew Renee wasn't from the region. "I mean, fuck, I don't know. Yeah I knew you watched me pee. I guess I did like it..." she trailed off.

"Wonderful! I just wanted you to feel good about it, not bad. I'll watch anytime you want sweetie." Renee didn't appreciate the names but also found it slightly endearing with the Keeper. Renee was convinced. She had seen enough to realize this was all from only two entries into the notebook.

"well, I do apologize for spilling your coffee." Renee managed to finish saying. She was so drawn in by the Keeper and his massive cock but she was determined to not let only two scenarios convince her alone. She excused herself normally, as if the Keeper wasn't naked, and returned up to her quarters in the lighthouse.

"I need to test this once more, before I..." she trailed off momentarily. "...before I make the world what I want." She had reached some strange point, realizing what was so intoxicating about power. In a certain way, she snapped a little, realizing that morals didn't necessarily apply when magic was involved.

"Money gets you close to this sort of power, which is why billionaires never stop seeking money. You can buy sex, you can buy situations; but you can never control like with magic...I have to know.: As if the nude incident today wasn't enough, Renee felt she needed to test a few other things. How much magic could the notebook affect? Physical forms? Active desires rather than passive or normal behaviors?

Renee was sitting on her lounge chair in her provided room with the notebook open on her lap. She had messaged her colleagues that she would be taking one more day at the lighthouse, as she did want to tour the island a little bit despite the remoteness. This time of writing in the notebook, she thought a little harder and longer. She felt something powerful in simplistic notes to write down, rather than expansive highly-specific requirements. She just needed a third data point to convince her of the notebook's power before she allowed herself to feel... unhinged about the whole thing.

She reflected on the researcher, drawn to flirting with her around the book, the Keeper's clear response to the normality of nudity in his own lighthouse. "What if I wanted something physical to change..." Renee first wrote, "I, the writer, Renee; I want to have exactly the hip and ass I see my other family women having." Renee had always been the slightly less busty, less curvy, stick of a figure amongst her mother and two sisters. That's why she got into the PhD researching and not flaunting her other assets like her sisters tended to do. When she was a younger woman, she would have slut shamed her sisters, but now Renee felt just as slutty if not as directly sexy. That is why she wrote about her hips and ass.

Renee stood up, and removed her clothing. Clearly, if the Keeper walked in or needed her, nudity shouldn't be a problem. She approached her mirror, feeling her own body and skin. She knew she was sexy--she knew she could dazzle even. But in the mirror, Renee watched in shocked glee as her hips widened ever so slightly, also jutting her ass out in proportion. The same, warm, spicy feeling washed over her again, this time directly stimulating her clit and making her knees weak. She was dripping wet now, she saw the change happen, and knew the notebook was real.