Tarot

Natalie stepped hesitantly through the curtain of beads covering the entrance to the strange tent, and found herself standing in front of a small table. Seated behind the table was Madame Zonia. Her name was on the sign outside - Madame Zonia, Fortune Teller extraordinaire! Be warned: her magnificent powers can even warp reality itself! Her fortunes will change your world! Not that Natalie believed in such things. At least, she hadn't thought she believed. But then, why was she here? She'd been walking home from work, and had come across a small tent made of dark, purple cloth, tucked away in an alley. It had looked quite suspicious, but something had possessed Natalie to take a closer look. She'd seen Madame Zonia's sign, and on a whim had decided to get her fortune told. She wasn't sure why. The instinct had just come over her all of a sudden.

"You are here for your fortune?" Madame Zonia asked. She spoke with a soft Eastern European accent that was quite pleasing to Natalie's ears. Natalie couldn't see the fortune teller clearer. She had a rich and finely woven shawl wrapped around her and her face was hidden beneath a dark hood. For a moment, though, as Natalie entered, a light breeze inflamed the candles that lit the shadowy tent, briefly illuminating Madame Zonia's face. Natalie got the brief impression of a fairly young, extraordinary beautiful woman with sharp, piercing eyes and strange, vine-like tattoos winding across her skin. Natalie sniffed at that. She hated tattoos. She couldn't imagine why anyone would ever get one.

"I... suppose so," Natalie replied. She felt very foolish, having walked in for no real reason. Nervously, she brushed her long, brown hair out of her face. She really should tie it back, or get it cut. "How much does it cost?"

"No charge." There was rich humour in Madame Zonia's voice. "It will not cost you any money at all. I have a good feeling about you. Sit down, and we can begin." She gestured to the stool on the opposite side of the table.

Natalie moved to take her seat. "What kinds of fortunes do you do?" she asked, more than anything just to fill the silence.

"Tarot cards." From up her voluminous sleeve, Madame Zonia produced a deck of cards and started shuffling it with blinding speed. "The cards reveal the truth of things. They have power. Some say they can even rewrite the threads of fate itself! I can tell you do not believe. But you will."

"I guess we'll find out." Natalie smiled politely and settled herself. Part of her still wanted to leave but she reasoned that since it was free, she might as well stay. "I suppose... I'd like to find out about my career prospects, please."

Natalie spent most of her time working. She'd just been walking home from the office, even though it was after eight o'clock in the evening. Her career was everything to her. Her parents had mostly been pretty liberal, but they'd always taught her that you had to pay your way, and you had to be going somewhere. Natalie had taken those lessons to heart. She'd gone straight into a serious career right after college, and now, twenty years later, she was a senior manager at her company. In terms of her clothing, she was every inch the consummate professional with her knee length skirt and neat-fitting jacket. She was good at her job, but she had to admit that the other areas of her life had suffered a little. In particular, she'd struggled to maintain serious relationships. She'd been going out with her current boyfriend, James, for about six months now, and things were a little strained between them. He wanted more time than she had to give. She wished she could compromise, but her career had to come first. He was a nice guy and the sex was OK - her needs were one of the main reasons she bothered with relationships at all - but she needed to keep her priorities straight.

"No career," Madame Zonia said firmly. "I only read for one thing. Your sex life."

"My sex life?" Natalie frowned. That seemed a little intrusive, although she also felt like it could be a bit of fun. Besides, she told herself again, it was free. "Sure, why not?"

"Then let us begin." Madame Zonia stopped shuffling the tarot cards. "Five cards, I will reveal. These five cards will reveal the truth that the fates have in store for you. We begin with the significator, the card that represents you." Madame Zonia flipped over the top card of the deck and placed it on the table, facing Natalie. The card showed a man seated on a throne, with his arms raised. He had a papal crown on his head and in one hand was an upraised staff. A series of crosses lined his robes. The word 'hierophant' was written on the bottom of the card. "The Hierophant. For you, this card signifies orthodoxy. You confine yourself to traditional expectations. I take it you have yet to have sex with your boyfriend?"

"Of course! Not that it's any of your business." Natalie tugged uncomfortably at her loose, ankle-length skirt and shapeless, over-sized jacket. She wasn't comfortable discussing sex, and felt the urge to make sure she wasn't showing any skin. Besides, there wasn't much to discuss. She wouldn't have sex with James before they married. She was very insistent about that. It just wouldn't be decent.

Madame Zonia leaned forwards. "I don't mean to pry, my dear, but are you a virgin?"

"N-none of your business," Natalie spat out, knowing full well that the blush in her cheeks told the whole story. She'd never had sex. She knew how embarrassing that was to admit, in this day and age. But she'd been raised a good Christian girl, and knew it just wouldn't be right to have sex before marriage. And her career had made sure she had precious little time for relationships. She couldn't deny occasionally feeling curious about sex, especially when James pestered her about it, but the morals ingrained into her as a child ensured she would never give in.

"Indeed." Natalie could hear the smile in Madame Zonia's voice. For a moment, she had the impression of hair falling into her face, as if she wore it loose, but when she checked she found her hair still tied up in a severe bun. Just like always. Wasn't that right? "Let us move on to the second card."

Natalie nodded, and Madame Zonia flipped over another card from the deck. She set it down on the table, and Natalie looked at it carefully. It depicted a young man in a tall hat, who looked like he was stumbling around. In each hand, he carried a large golden disk with a five-pointed star on it. In the background was the sea, with a pair of ships struggling to navigate perilous waters.

"The second card represents your goal, what you desire," Madame Zonia explained. "In your case, the Two of Pentacles. This card represents imbalance. See how the young man on the card struggles not to drop the disks? It might seem unusual to desire imbalance, but in your case it is easy enough to make sense of. You are a tightly-laced woman, as anyone can see. Yet you desire to cut loose, to go wild. Is that not so?"

"It... it is," Natalie admitted. How did Madame Zonia know? More and more lately, Natalie had caught herself thinking and fantasising about sex. She wasn't really sure why. One day, a few weeks ago, she'd googled 'porn' and watched the first video that had come up. She'd just been wondering what it would feel like to have sex with a man, and had figured could at least see for herself what it looked like. The video had shocked her, but had also made her strangely aroused. She'd found herself clicking link after link, watching video after video, all with hand slowly drifting closer and closer to her wet pussy. She'd ended up masturbating furiously, driving herself to the first orgasm of her life. It had been shameful, but also amazing.

Since that day, she hadn't been able to get sex off her mind. She just couldn't stop wondering what it would feel like to have a huge, hard cock in her tight, wet pussy, or a load of hot, steaming cum in her drooling, slutty mouth. Those fantasies haunted her, distracting her from her work and making it impossible to get anything done. She hadn't told James, of course. How could she? It was far too embarrassing. Even as she told him off for trying to pester her into having sex with him, she spent every free moment sitting in front of her computer with her hand down her panties, red-faced and sweaty as she fucked herself with her fingers. In particular, she couldn't stop thinking about the girls in those videos. What would it be like to just let go? To just fuck a whole room full of random men, just because? Natalie could only imagine.

She started to wonder if she could be like those girls. If she could throw her Christian morals to the wind, go to the filthiest dive bar in the city and invite a whole bunch of random strangers to come back to her apartment and fuck her silly. That fantasy drove her wild. She thought about it all the time. Last week, it had gotten so bad she'd quietly snuck into the office bathroom at lunchtime to masturbate, one hand clamped over her mouth to stop herself shrieking in pleasure. She'd promised herself she'd never do it again, but she'd ended up doing it every single day since. She felt so incredibly ashamed, but she couldn't stop. She just couldn't. Even now, sitting in Madame Zonia's tent, she could feel her thighs growing slick and hot from the fire between her legs. She couldn't wait to get home and use her new dildo, the first sex toy she'd ever bought.

"No shame in that, my dear," Madame Zonia assured her. "It is no sin to enjoy the pleasure of your own flesh, whatever you have been told. But let us turn to the next card. This one will signify your past and in doing so, shed light on your current situation." The fortune teller flipped over another card. This one showed a young man in fine clothing, raising his staff and staring at it curiously. "The Page of Wands!" Madame Zonia declared. "This card represents someone who is bold, adventurous, an individualist and a nonconformist." From beneath her hood, Madame Zonia's crooked smile shone through the darkness of the tent. "Oh my. You must have been quite the wild child."

"You... you might say that." Natalie blushed an even deeper shade of crimson. Her mind was flooded with all sorts of memories, memories she'd tried to bury completely for years. She wasn't a virgin. That was a lie she'd told James, and all her previous boyfriends. It was true that she'd been raised in a conservative family, but in college she'd gone through a pretty serious rebellious phase. Mostly, that had meant boys. Lots and lots of boys. Natalie instinctively rubbed at her neck, where part of her tattoo poked above the line of her collar. She normally kept it covered up with heavy foundation, but today it had started to show through a little. The tattoo was of a dragon, winding its way around her whole upper body. It looked like the last thing anyone would expect a woman like her to have. She'd told James she'd got it for a bet. That was a lie.

She'd got it because an ex had asked her to. Bret. He was a biker and a punk, and he had a monster cock. Between those three things, he pushed all of Natalie's buttons. Within days of meeting, he'd had her wrapped around his little finger. She'd done so many shameful things for him. She'd loved the way he'd showed her off to all his biker friends, as his trophy girlfriend. One time, he'd even made her give one of the a blowjob, just to settle a bet over how good she was with her mouth. That kind of thing had given her such a thrill. After her sheltered, boring upbringing, the ability to cut loose and do whatever she wanted, knowing her parents couldn't stop her, was addicting. She'd loved to dress up like a whore, just because she liked the way men stared. And the sex. God, the sex had been amazing. Bret was the best, but there had been other boys too. Too many to count. She'd fucked her way through her entire college dorm, and then moved on to the frat houses and sports teams. She'd been called a slut, a whore, a home-wrecker. But she'd never cared. Nothing made her day better than a big, throbbing cock in her young, tight cunt.

And then, for some reason, she'd changed. She couldn't really remember. It was like that part of life didn't fit in with the rest, like it didn't belong. Maybe it was her conservative, Christian morals resurfacing. Maybe it was just growing up. Either way, she'd stopped with the whoring around and the slutty clothes. Natalie had turned her life around, graduated with decent grades, and become the career woman she now was. She'd never quite got rid of the tattoo, though. She had the money, but deep down she secretly liked still having a connection to those wild, rebellious days of her youth. She'd been thinking about them more and more lately, as all her thoughts increasingly turned to the possibility of getting her pussy filled.

"Yes." Madame Zonia nodded sagely, as if she understood everything. "The cards see it all. A good girl gone bad, then gone good, now yearning to go bad again. But why, I wonder? The cards have the answer. The fourth card will shed light on a recent event, one that has directly caused your current predicament. Let us see what the fates have in store." Before Natalie could say anything, the fortune taller flipped over another card. This one showed a man hanging upside down from one of his feet, with the other crossed behind him. At first Natalie thought Madame Zonia had placed the card the wrong way up, but then she took note of the words written along the bottom. 'The Hanged Man,' it said.

"Do not worry," Madame Zonia said, seeing Natalie fearful reaction to the card. "The Hanged Man is not a fearful card. See the look on his face? He is not troubled. The card simply represents a change in perspective. A reversal. Something happened recently, didn't it? Something that made you realised you needed to make a change. What was it?"

All of a sudden, Natalie looked sullen and withdrawn. Her body language betrayed great insecurity and anxiety. She knew exactly what Madame Zonia was talking about. Of course she did. It had been on her mind every waking moment. It was the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to her, and it had precipitated her transformation from straight-laced office lady into secret slut.

"My... my boyfriend," she stuttered. "He... he cheated on me." Natalie was momentarily lost in the still-vivid memory of what had happened. She'd left work one day, a few weeks, and had decided to pay James a surprise visit. She'd gone to his house and used the key under the mat to let herself in. The moment she'd opened the door, her ears had been filled with the sounds of wild, sexual moaning. She'd followed the noise all the way to bedroom, and found James with another woman. A girl, really. She looked like she was barely out of college. And like a complete slut. Just like Natalie had once been. James had been fucking her roughly, doggy style, his hand wrapped around her ponytail and yanking her head back as he thrust into her. She'd been screaming his name with every second breath. Natalie had found herself watching through a crack in the door, too shocked to interrupt them. She'd felt angry and utterly humiliated, but the more she'd watched the more she'd found herself getting turned on. She'd found herself fixating on James's college whore, wondering what it was like to be her, wondering what it was like to get ploughed from behind like that. Decades-old memories had started to resurface. And her pussy had gotten so, so wet.

In the end, she'd fled just after they came. She'd gone home and immediately started masturbating, too aroused to contain or control herself. That was when she'd looked up porn. So she could watch another slut getting fucked, and imagine it was her. She'd broken up with James that evening, by text and for unspecified reasons. But that hadn't stopped her sudden descent into filthy-minded madness. Between the break-up and her newfound obsession with sex, her life was falling apart. Her career was slipping away. She could hardly get any work done. She spent half her time in the office daydreaming about being fucked, and the other half locked in a toilet cubicle with one hand over her mouth and the other hand down her panties. Then, she went home and wasted the evening staring at increasingly hardcore and kinky porn. It was becoming unmanageable. She was starting to wonder if she should think about getting help.

"Don't worry, my dear," Madame Zonia said reassuringly. "Madame Zonia sees all. But I do not judge, and neither do the cards. Do not lose hope! There is still one more card left to be revealed. This one represents your future. I pray for your sake it will be a good one."

"Me too," Natalie breathed. She couldn't go on this way.

Madame Zonia paused for what felt like an age, then flipped over the final card. At first, Natalie couldn't quite see what it was. Like the Hanged Man, it appeared to be upside-down. It showed a figure sitting up in bed in the middle of the night, head in hands, as if awoken by nightmares or dark thoughts. Behind them, nine swords hung ominously on the wall. The card filled Natalie with dread. But to her surprise Madame Zonia sounded pleased.

"The Nine of Swords!" she exclaimed jubilantly. "Now this is a fearsome card. It represents regret, loss and grief. But fortunately for you, it is reversed. This signifies that you will move beyond those things and find new happiness. My dear Natalie, you will find what you seek. Your desires will be fulfilled. This, the cards predict."

Natalie was too lost in heady excitement to wonder how the strange fortune teller knew her name. Yes! This was a wonderful omen. It proved what she was about to do was the right thing. She'd had a few reservations, but they were gone now. After all, by now she was more than convinced that Madame Zonia and her tarot cards really could tell fortunes.

Natalie needed to get fucked. That thought had been taking shape for a week now, stronger and stronger every day. She'd had enough of repressing her desires every single waking moment. She wanted to a be a slut again. So, why shouldn't she be? Why not just go to nearest bar and find a man who would drag her home and fill her needy cunt? She wanted that so badly. She thought about it constantly. And today, she'd decided, was going to be the day. Beneath her shapeless, conservative clothing, she had on the smallest, sluttiest string bikini she could find. All she had to do was slip off her jacket and undo her shirt, and it would all be on display. She could imagine doing that as she walked into the bar, and watching all the men's heads turn to stare at her. That thought made her so wet. She was desperately horny. Her thick, stiff nipples were poking uncomfortably through her shirt and the wetness of her slit was starting to seep through her skirt. She needed to get fucked.

And she would. She knew exactly which bar she was going to. She'd been on the way, after work, when a moment of indecision had made her duck into Madame Zonia's tent to get her fortune told. But now, all her hesitation was over. She was going to get fucked. She was going to be a slut. Finally. She could finally admit to herself that her slut phase in college had been the happiest part of her life. Going to work didn't make her happy. Working her way up the career ladder didn't make her happy. Getting fucked made her happy. Having all her holes filled by men she hardly knew made her happy. Getting stuffed with cock and cum all night long made her happy. She couldn't wait any longer to experience that again.

"I... I need to go," Natalie muttered. She stood up and hurried over to the entrance to the tent. The way she moved made her seem almost drunk, as she clenched her sticky, sweaty thighs together awkwardly. "Thank you, Madame Zonia," she said, and slipped past the curtain and out into the open air.