Reading Messages

You were pretty drained (from research) for the day and the bed in your bunk never looked more comfortable. Diana didn’t return from her ‘shower’, flying back to Earth instead for some sort of superheroics after getting cleared by McGee. Disappointing. One of many disappointments of the day…

As you laid in bed you wondered if you should take care of yourself. You knew it would be best to save your loads for tomorrow, but at the same time there were some frustrations you wished you could work out. The decision was pretty much made for you however, looking at your bandaged hands. Probably best not to unwrap them yet. So you resolved to take some deep breaths and wait for your half chub to go away and try to sleep it off.

You were tired enough to drift, and was almost too far gone to hear a tinkling noise in the air. Almost. Blinking at the dimness of your bunk you focused on the sound. It was like distant windchimes with a familiar kind of melody that you couldn’t quite place. You could describe it as magical, and you would be right. Sitting up and turning to the source, you saw the air twinkling, glittering. Purple and pink particles were smoking up from the top hat sitting on the table, like a swirl of a tiny galaxy of stars. Zatanna’s top hat that she had left behind.

Your vision adjusted to the glittering light and you squinted as what were clearly letters began to form in the air.

Hi Doc.

The sparkling message floated before you expectantly. You went with the urge to respond.

“Hello?” you said, uncertain but intrigued. “Zatanna?” The letters dissolved and reformed.

Yes.

The confirmation lingered a moment before shifting again.

I need your help.

You swung your legs onto the floor but stayed in your bed. The hat was definitely Zatanna’s that she seemed to have forgotten, and you certainly would help the beautiful magician when she asked for it, but how could you actually know she was the one sending the messages? As if to answer that question a white gloved hand slid up from the hat and gave you a little wave. New words glittered into being.

It’s me, I promise. I know Diana’s secret.

That was a good start, and you were pretty convinced. You felt like it was a recognizable hand, and there was a familiar way about the flick of the wrist. The hand disappeared back through the hat ensconced portal.

“Okay… you need my help?” you asked her. You were still a bit suspicious, wondering why she had to communicate to you through magic glitter words rather than her voice. She seemed to be able to hear you on the other side without issue…

I need a diagnosis.

The words floated for a few seconds then changed.

I can’t sleep.

You scratched your head.

“I’m not really that kind of doctor,” you replied, though you still wanted to help and predicted there was more to it.

I’m horny all the time.

The unexpectedly frank admission was an easy clue, now cottoning on to why Zatanna was reaching out to you specifically. You stared at the statement which hovered longer than the previous messages. This was pointedly waiting for a response. You had to help didn’t you?

“Go on,” you said.

I’ve been thinking about how you helped Diana.

It’s all I can think about.

It was hard to tell exactly what this was. Zatanna playing a prank? Someone pretending to be Zatanna to play a prank? Well she seemed to know information that only Zatanna would know. And while what she was telling you was provocative, this wasn’t unfamiliar. You’d dealt with addicts in denial before. That is, cum addicts who had managed to deal with their addiction through sheer willpower. At least for a couple of days. A week max. When they finally gave up and could admit it to themselves they could say very interesting things.

“How long have you had these symptoms?” you asked, hoping honesty would be Zatanna’s policy. The sparkling purple cloud hesitated for a moment before arranging into her answer.

You had not expected it to be in months. Plural. Any normal person would have been driven insane without proper treatment in that time, if they hadn’t outright fallen into a coma. Or worse.

I was using magic. It helped. Until it didn’t.

“This… this is serious,” you said, trying to keep your voice level and to not scare Zatanna with your shock. You had no way to know what kind of affect magic would have on an addict’s condition. How it would affect their state of mind. The scientist in you got excited about the prospect of investigating this route but there were more pressing concerns to deal with. “If you are afflicted you have to seek immediate treatment.”

The response emerged after a few moments.

Okay.

There was a pause.

Can you treat me?

Her words gave you pause. Obviously, halfway through the conversation, you were sporting a stiff and ready erection. That’s why you were a professional.

“I can,” you said, even though you weren’t sure how this would work. How long was it going to take for Zatanna to return to the Watchtower?

Thank you.

Please, pick up the hat.

Oh. So maybe right now? Could you pull the magician out of the hat like a rabbit and have her in your bedroom? Another exciting prospect. You went to the table and picked up the hat by the brim. You had expected it to have more weight, remembering when she had her arm through it. But it weighed as much as an empty hat would weigh.

The request appeared, pink and alluring. Sparkling.

Put your penis into the hat.

Er… what?

You knew that the ‘hole’ of the hat was too small in circumference to fit much else through it. Certainly Zatanna wouldn’t even be able to put her whole head through the portal, let alone her whole body. Best guess anyway. You didn’t know anything about how magic portals worked. That was reason enough to be wary of then sticking your dick into it. It was a very important appendage to you. If something went wrong you imagined it could turn out very badly.

But you could also picture Zatanna on the other side of the hat. The gorgeous magician, dark hair tumbling down her bare shoulders, waiting for your cock wherever she was.