Curvy Like A Witch Read Online Free PDF

will you lead the chant?”
    I stepped forth gravely. I spoke loud
and clear as the others murmured the words with me. They were the
same every Halloween. “I am a witch. I am protector of human kind.
I stand between the people of the earth and the creatures of the
underworld. My mind is serious and my body chaste. Only on
Halloween night will flesh meet flesh. It will be enough. I will
return.”
    “Thank you, Sister Celeste.” I thought
Mother Alma’s look was one of disapproval. Though my gown was cut
dangerously low, so were many others. It was a permitted indulgence
this one night, though no forms among the twenty six other witches
were as fleshy and filled out as mine. I had only a little time to
use these instruments of my body and I would make it a time worthy
of remembering.
    The chime of the clock silenced us all
as we turned to its face. It was as tall as a man. The Phoenix
House had been built in the 1920s as a luxury hotel and the deco
style influences remained. The novitiates clutched hands as the
hour arrived. I ran my hands over the smooth fabric of my cloak. It
was time.
    Last year had been disappointing. He
was a truck driver and tempting to look at, but had already fallen
under the haze of drink before he led me to the cheap motel off the
interstate. He seemed disinterested in anything other than that
dark triangle at my center and did not wait for me to achieve any
satisfaction before finishing and passing out into a dull sleep. I
returned to Phoenix House long before there was any danger of
banishment. For months I chided myself and my poor choice. Tonight
would be different. I would not succumb to the first horny
collection of muscles.
    The novitiates surged to the front. I
really did not envy them their virginal fever. The first time had
been difficult. Now I had five Halloween of practice and I meant to
apply the things I knew and learn of the things I didn’t. A
pleasant warmth spread between my legs as my body awakened to the
evening’s possibilities. Perhaps Mother Alma disapproved of me
because she knew how I pleasured myself quietly during the resting
hours. It was not expressly forbidden, but regarded as a sign of
weakness. Witches were not permitted many weaknesses.
    Mother Alma raised a hand. Slowly the
thick double doors opened. The light outside was fading rapidly.
“Daughters,” she said, “it is Halloween.”
    Beyond the strict curfew, there were a
few rules to abide by. Witches must drink the potion before
departing. It would protect our bodies from any unpleasant
consequences of the night’s indulgences. And each witch would be in
the world alone this evening. It would be the only occasion of the
year where a witch mingled in public without the scrutiny of her
sisters.
    Mother Alma handed each departing
witch a small goblet before releasing her into the night. When my
turn came the dour coven mistress glanced at the round swells of my
body which threatened to spill from the thin fabric. “Remember,
Miss Celeste,” she warned. “Midnight.”
    I didn’t know why she issued such a
reminder. It was not my first Halloween. Some sisters said Mother
Alma possessed the rare sight, that she could see certain events of
the future. Was that the reason behind her warning? She needn’t
have fret. No matter the pleasures of the outside world, I would
never abandon my witch duties.
    Katie, a radiant redhead, was my
friend. She touched my arm lightly as we headed toward the property
boundary of Phoenix House. “Enjoy,” she winked, then hurried down
the street. Katie and I had arrived at Phoenix House the same year,
both innocent girls of the deep south, fresh out high school when
the strange figure of Mother Alma entered our lives and made an
unusual offer. Eight years had passed since. I well recalled the
longing of that first Halloween when I was among those shooed to
the second floor. It would be several more years before my first
Halloween.
    The sensation of being alone on