This was done for We Drink Inspiration #007 – my prompt was thus:
“A soccer hooligan from Indiana inherits a warlock from New Jersey”
I nixxed the places of origin for the characters as the story flowed, so don’t judge 😉
“Do you have to do that?”
Jostin bounced the ball upon his knees in time to the beat – thump, thump, thump – never missing, incessant, his muscled torso glistening with sweat, long, black mohawk hiding part of his chiseled face. Bouncing the ball off his head and carelessly against the sphere before him earned him a string of curses from the woman held within, a woman he merely smirked at wickedly as he picked up the jump rope to continue his routine. He knew she hated him, also knew how she looked at him when she thought he was too focused on his workout to notice. Annoying her was in a way payback for his uncle forcing her into his care – the conditions of his inheritance, an inheritance that guaranteed any injury that killed his soccer career wouldn’t kill his lifestyle, was to keep the beautiful bruja in her cage.
Not that she starved or went without creature comforts as she saw fit, no, the old man cared for her too much despite the havoc she had wreaked upon his family. She was able to summon her magicks inside the sphere, but only to her own ends and never to free herself. Nothing could break the hold that sphere had on her.
Nothing but true love.
And that was why Jostin was entrusted with her and the inheritance – he never loved anything or anyone but himself and those who he surrounded himself with were there for his own ends. Anyone who became inconvenient was dropped like hot tapas, all evidence of the connection surreptitiously erased, numbers blocked, profiles unfollowed and unfriended.
“You just think you’re so hot, don’t you?”
Jostin bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, barely out of breath, smiling arrogantly. “Yes, Isabella and you do, too, along with half the Western hemisphere.”
The bruja snorted, a peach appearing in her hand. “Please, child, I’ve had men twice your size between my legs.”
Jostin dropped the rope, stalking like a tiger towards his creature in the cage. “You been spying on me, witch?”
“Not like you don’t take the opportunity to flaunt yourself every chance possible.” Isabella took a huge bite out of the peach, juices running down her chin.
Jostin pressed himself against the sphere, allowing her full view of his musculature. “Or maybe just…. frustrated.”
“I can conjure a dildo that would satisfy me better than that pea shooter.”
“I’ve seen, and oh my….”
“Now who’s the spy?”
Jostin chuckled and backed away, undressing in front of her to prove he was definitely not a pea shooter, Isabella stifling a gasp by taking another bite of her peach.
“Admit it, you want this,” he growled with a smirk.
“If you’ve been spying, I’d say you want me, too….”
“The way I writhe and moan….” Isabella lowered the straps to her already-too-revealing dress, allowing her nipples to peek above the flimsy fabric.
“You won’t trap me like that, witch.”
“Oh, won’t I?” Isabella moved to press her naked globes against the sphere, which crackled angrily, stinging her skin, yet she staved off the pain to make her point.
“If you think I’ll fall for you and you’ll be free, you’re dumber than I thought,” Jostin sneered.
“No man has ever resisted me for long,” Isabella smiled, “and you’re no different than the rest of that lusty lot.”
“That, my dear, is where you’re dead wrong.” Jostin picked up his clothes, strutting over to the sphere to give her a better look at what she was missing.
“Oh, mijo, how is that exactly?”
Jostin leaned in, his lips ever so close to her taut nipples. “I’m gay.”
Isabella backed away, stumbling in her shock and rage, throwing the peach with a snarl and screaming when it exploded against the sphere to drench her, while Jostin turned on his heel and sauntered off, giggling like the mad man he was.
©2014 Spiritwind Studios