Black Magick Ch. 19

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For John


Amber was completely naked, like Nick and Elisabeth. It seemed like forever since she had last seen either of her two close friends naked. She had seen Nick’s cock before a couple of times at least, and swam naked in the swimming pool with her bikini stuffed up her tight young pussy, but for some reason she felt more exposed, more vulnerable than she had then. It was strange and a little unsettling. It made her pussy dampen, and she rubbed her thighs together gingerly.

She drank the potion down in one great gulp and said the magick words. Next to her, Elisabeth was also changing. Amber’s clit began to swell, and her height increased by a foot. Her large brown breasts, which she had always been vain of, merged into her torso and were consumed by her body. She felt their substance vanishing as they nurtured her starving, mangled, manipulated flesh. She couldn’t quite decide whether she wanted to scream in horror or to laugh in delight. The sensation was so pleasant, despite everything.

An arm’s reach away, Nick’s mother Susan was asleep on the couch, asleep and very, very fertile, due to a little spell Nick had performed on her tampons two weeks ago when his mother had been riding the crimson wave. She was always a bitch when she was menstruating, so Nick didn’t feel so bad sneaking into her bathroom, while she was out buying lingerie, and jacking off three times into the box of Playtex she kept under the sink, letting his cock slip mischievously between the plastic of the tampons. Oh he was so naughty! He got off quickly each and every time, remembering what it had been like sneaking into his mother’s bedroom when she was sleeping months ago and stealing her sex toys for Elisabeth, and how warm and soft his mother’s lap had been when she had discovered it and was spanking him. He had been just a boy then, despite his age, and a virgin, and actually came from the sensation of his mother’s hand on his ass. His cock rubbing against her leg had been so intoxicating! He had been so innocent then, and so self-deprecating. And now he was planning to gang-rape his mother!

Half a moon ago.

Now, ten minutes ago Elisabeth had magicked the house with a spell that involved three candles and mixture of blood, cum and pussy juice so that now time stood still for the three mischievous kids to do their dirty work. Their father, who had left his desk in the study to run out and by a copy of the Wall Street Journal, was frozen solid on the driveway like a stone statue, and if one looked just right out of the corner of the eye one could see rose bushes coiling around the Stewart household with incredible speed, both thorn and blossom glistening ominously with a dewy moisture.

Amber looked at her best friend Elisabeth. She was no longer as Amber had known her, but a naked carbon copy of her brother Nick. Meanwhile, the real Nick was holding his erect cock in his hand and navigating it in between his sleeping mother’s parted legs. Amber gulped to remember that it wasn’t the first time that Nick had fucked Susan. Elisabeth had said something about Susan keeping her son as a sex toy for months, but time had curled back on itself since then and now it was like a faded memory from a past life, soul memory, which can’t be accessed, only felt, yet never fully gotten rid off, the way the memory of a severed limb never seems to vanish. Things like time, space, and shape, like conventional thinking, couldn’t hold still for magick, but seemed to change of their own accord and according to their own rules, which no one could change, only summon and implore to do her bidding. Amber knew from her reading that magick changed one’s very soul, either for good or for bad, depending on what sort. And the ritual they were planning, the ritual that began a month ago and was now coming to fruition, was definitely very, very black.

Nick pressed the head of his cock against his mother’s inner lips and pushed into the deep dark hole between. He thrust hard and Amber gasped, her soft majestic voice with just a trace of her mother’s British accent escaping from Nick’s pretty boy lips. She gasped as though she was Nick’s mother’s body responding to her son’s penetration. What was left of her womanhood, which clung somewhere to her aching pounding heart, somehow knew how to feel despite never having known a man’s touch, at least not in the proper hole.

Nick braced himself against the couch, one hand on the back rest, one on the edge of the cushion, contorting his body slightly with the effort of quick, deep penetration. Amber shut her eyes, but that didn’t stop the harsh delectable sensation of the thrust deep in her body. Why was she feeling another woman’s pleasure, the pleasure of a sleeping woman who shouldn’t be feeling a thing? She didn’t even have a woman’s body anymore, she reminded herself, and opened her eyes just a bit to peek down. Her cock, Nick’s cock, was rock-hard, and she felt weird and squirmy thinking about it.

Elisabeth, also in Nick’s form, was stroking her own cock triumphantly, Isparta Escort just quick enough to keep it hard without driving herself to climax, as though she had had a dick her whole life and was used to using it as a device for her own pleasure. She looked so proud of her twin brother (now identical twin) pounding away at their mother that it made Amber’s stomach turn. Why was Amber always the only one to have second thoughts? How could her two friends be doing something like this, and enjoying it so much? To their mother of all people? It just wasn’t right!

Nick thrust deep inside his mother and held himself fixed, his face held tight as though concentrating on something very base. Amber realized instinctually that he had just come. She bit down on her lip to stop her thoughts and feelings before they even started. It would now be Elisabeth’s turn to rape her mother, and then Amber, if Amber didn’t buckle first, and then Nick would rape her again, and they would all take turns for the next twenty-four hours, until the clock on the mantelpiece struck twelve and the spell broke. Then, time would start up again for real, and everything would go back to normal, except that Susan would bear this “moonchild” for their demon taskmaster, and the first task would be complete.

Nick suckled slightly on his mother’s breast as though he was still an infant trying eagerly to be fed. He continued to thrust into her perversely, with his softening cock making the image, at least in Amber’s eyes. A monstrosity indeed, both son and lover, playing both parts simultaneously. Nick drew himself from his mother’s freshly used hole, which was honestly overflowing in an intoxicating mixture of her own juices and her son’s virulent semen. Amber felt sick. If there was truly a god in heaven, who saw and judged all, why didn’t he strike them all down now before their tarnished souls would commit more evil? Why were they all still allowed to live? Why did their witches’ blood still flow though their veins, instead of adding nurturance to the dying infertile Earth they stood on? Amber felt dizzy, like she was the mistreated heroine of a dime store romance novel and would swoon into a dead faint at any moment. She could almost feel the corset wrapped around her tender body that was holding her in and keeping her from breathing freely, and just as she wanted to rip the whale bone that cut into her skin, she was afraid that without it she would have no shape at all, but become nothing more than swamp slime on Nick and Elisabeth’s living room floor.

Amber bit her lip again just in time. She really was getting faint and was having some sort of fever dream. Elisabeth was navigating herself… or Nick’s self… or something like that into Susan’s already cum-filled cunt. Amber could see the beads of moisture glistening on the older woman’s thighs, and longed to bend over and lap it up while Elisabeth had her way with the woman. Desire and pure, raw masculine sex drive seemed to electrify the very air around them. It was almost like sneaking into the boys’ locker room at school, then stripping and having a shower with the all the sweaty jocks without anyone thinking to notice. Amber could almost smell the testosterone seeping into her though all her pores, filling her lungs with every breath of air. Her borrowed cock ached with longing, and she found herself stroking it like she would a cat’s fur. She felt so horny she was afraid she would come, and she was terrified at the prospect of having a male orgasm.

The air blew through her. Her long black hair would have lifted up off her soft brown breasts and danced though the magickal breeze, but Nick’s brown hair, which she was wearing now, was cropped so short it could do little more than flop around like a fish drowning in the air.

Amber tasted the metallic zing of blood in her mouth. She must have been biting her lip. Why was she so nervous? Hadn’t she decided ages and ages ago, when Elisabeth first showed her the blasted magick book, that she was going to get power for herself no matter what? Was it possible that she didn’t really mean it? What sort of woman, what sort of sorceress was she, if she couldn’t keep an oath like that to herself? She felt sea-sick, watching Elisabeth pounding away at her mother’s cunt. Elisabeth’s manly grunts of arousal sounded like squeals of glee from a young woman reaching out towards climax. Amber had licked and fingered her friend to orgasm many times, in the name of pleasure and magick, and she couldn’t help but get drawn into her Elisabeth’s pleasure the way she had with Susan a moment ago. What a dizzying course of emotions, to first be the victim and then the rapist, one after the other!

Her heart felt like a big loud African drum, pounding into the wild jungle, communicating village news, though her savage body, and out into the cosmos. Her fingertips vibrated with it in time with her best friend fucking her mother, a primitive jig around a camp fire.

Soon Elisabeth came and drew herself out quickly, Isparta Escort Bayan her borrowed cock covered in a mixture of her mother and brother’s juices. The drumming in Amber’s heart erupted, and Amber gasped with a mixture of arousal and stage fright.

Amber stepped up to take her turn with the sleeping woman. Her heart was pounding and she was breaking out in a sweat, but her cock, Nick’s cock, was rock-hard in her hand. Didn’t he ever have performance anxiety? Amber bit her already damaged lip, which, now that she thought about it, was really Nick’s lip. Did she still have her own sparkle in her eyes, was the light behind them still her own, or has Nick taken that as well with this dark magick? Amber’s stomach was turning and the world seemed to be spinning and then she was certain for a moment that Nick was deep-throating her balls, or his balls rather, pressed hard against his hungry lips. She felt a nudge on her shoulder and found her body acting on it’s own. She navigated the head of her borrowed penis between their victim’s legs and pressed deep inside of her.

The sensation was like nothing she ever felt before.

It was as though all the feeling in her body was concentrated in that borrowed appendage and she was completely covered and sheltered in warm, soothing, stimulating velvet. Her soul seemed to fly away from her. It had flown away to heaven, and the only thing left was the rhythm of the her hips knocking against Susan’s damp pelvic mound, the terrible rapturous sensation of the velvet shelter wrapped oh so sadistically tight around her being, filling her with pleasure and torturing her with desire.

And then, all at once, she felt a white spark mounting behind her, pushing its way out from the depths of oblivion, and she knew instinctually that she was going to come. Suddenly panic over came her. It was too late! She, like Nick and Elisabeth, has been dragged body and soul into the terrible ritual. Her borrowed testicles full of borrowed DNA were constricting hideously, eager to fulfill their dark task. She wanted to break free, to rip the monstrous loins she should have never had from the moist depths they should have never visited. She grunted with her high feminine voice, her true voice, and ravished her broken lip. She wanted to break free, to spill her seed to the air and to the earth, to send it free to the world were it would give life to god’s creations and fertility to the minds and hearts of men and women, or at very least, play no more part in this dark devil’s task, but she too was gripped by the spell and her body’s new found hunger for dark unholy pleasure.

The white reached out and grabbed her and let her as if by the neck, both embrace and strangle-hold combined. It reached out and covered her, buried her the way she had been buried in the in the protective velvet a moment ago. She was completely devoured, completely consumed by it. A moment later there was nothing left of her.


Amber woke up with a start in her own bed, in her family’s high-rise condo downtown. She was covered from head to toe in a cold sweat and her crotch was throbbing, as though she had been gang-raped. Her genitals felt strangely alien to her, as though up until a moment ago they had belonged to someone else and were not quite either male or female. She felt slightly hideous and more than a little dirty, and no matter how she tried to comfort herself, she couldn’t help but feel like a bit of an abomination, a creature unfit to walk the Earth. But the feeling didn’t touch her all the way down to the core.

Her pussy and bedspread were covered in her feminine juices and a white jelly slime that looked oddly like semen, but that she knew from experience to be only a kind of mucus she produced when very, very aroused. She always woke up aroused these mornings, as though her strange dreams were somehow deeply erotic. For a moment, once again, like every other morning since that cursed ritual, she couldn’t bring herself to move her body even an inch or allow herself to think. She felt broken on the inside, as though she was nothing more than a bag of battered sticks. She felt bruised and raw and battered, as though someone had beaten her.

It had been a full three months, nearly four moons, since the terrible ritual that had left her stripped of her virginity, her male virginity, and left her feeling alone and vulnerable to everything. The very breeze seemed to pass though her uninhibited, brushing heedlessly by her wounded little soul which she could feel distinctly as a hard cold stone between her breasts and her belly button. Three full months since, her dreams began to fill with strange real dreams. Every night she saw the past from behind of another set of eyes.

Nearly four moons,

After two weeks of lying in bed without moving, her mind and body completely numb as though she had used up all the chemicals necessary for locomotion, Amber finally dropped out of high school and was talking a combination of online college classes, Escort Isparta and outreach classes held at the local J.C. to finish up her schooling and get herself towards college.

Nearly four moons,

Susan’s belly had indeed swollen, and Amber couldn’t bring herself to touch herself, lest the belly and the part she had played in the conception pop into her mind and drive all feeling from her battered body. Susan puzzled over the fact that her birth control pills hadn’t worked, but immediately assumed that the child was her husband’s, and seemed to treat the unexpected pregnancy with good will.

The baby had been born too early. Born dead. Elisabeth had stolen the outcast fetus to the back yard and rolled it in mud, like a savage mummy, cut up the carpet under her bed and buried it under to floorboards. Amber knew because she had seen the baby in a dream and looked out the dead eyes of the fetus as his body was laid out, and even now, at bad moments, she looked up from the darkness underneath the bedroom floor. She also knew that Elisabeth took the death of the child very personally and sometimes she would stay up crying all night and had started wearing foundation on her face in order to hide the red spots. Elisabeth was convinced that she, not Nick or Amber, was really the child’s father.

Amber hadn’t had a waking orgasm in a full three months.

Nearly four moons,

Every morning, no matter what she did, Amber woke up the same way, covered in sweat and cum and feeling broken and consumed all over.

There was no lying to herself. The dream was back again, that same damn dream, told and retold by her tortured mind in so many different ways. Sometimes she felt Susan’s pain. Sometimes she felt her pleasure. Sometimes she looked more like herself with Nick’s balls and penis grafted onto her like a tree branch. Sometimes she was Elisabeth. Sometimes she was Susan and sometimes she was Nick. Sometimes she hovered above the room like a spirit. Sometimes she was the moonchild being magicked into being in the unwilling womb.

Amber thought she had cast the dream from herself, with her last batch of banishing and purification spells, but still she was haunted. She sighed and trudged off to her private bathroom.

Amber was from a good family, a family with a lot of money. And like a lot of rich teenage girls, she fancily decorated her bathroom with a wide array of cosmetics and moisturizers. The shelves practically exploded with them and they were draped around as though flowers on an overgrown vine. The room itself was only a little larger than large a walk-in closet, but it hosted a top of the line shower and spa bath with real jets, and all the towels were yellow with Amber’s initials A.S. embroidered on them in purple thread. Amber stripped off her white cotton nightgown so that she was completely naked, and sat down on a little circular bath mat, on which she had stenciled a bound pentagram using a mechanical pencil and a little bit of “climax” colored nail polish. She began chanting while rubbing ‘spring apple’ scented moisturizer into her skin, as part of her daily cleansing ritual. It was hard not to touch her own breasts and genitals, her body was still so tender and aroused from her dreams, but her fingers trembled just a little and she couldn’t make herself do it. She knew from experience that the dreams always became stronger when she tried to masturbate.

Sighing melodramatically, Amber stepped into the shower, her body tingling with the magick she had just done as well as with arousal. The warm water felt good against the soft brown flesh of her face and arms. But her head was pounding with the memory of last night, and the force of the stream on her jet-black hair compounded her migraine and filled her with the darkest kind of thoughts.

She felt an uncomfortable slip inside her head, as though the neurons that composed her brain were a snowy alpine mountain suffering a terrible avalanche. She felt her essence curling up into a ball deep inside her body, her skin a flimsy helium balloon straining uncontrollably against the solid black mass that was filling it. Suddenly, the film popped and the blackness that was now her soul erupted out of her lysed body and swept through the walls and down the drain with the viscosity of mercury. Her perception traveled with it down into the street, rushing out in all directions, threatening to coil itself around the world like a great black snake, and squeezing until her gaze by chance fell on something familiar and got wrapped up in it.

It wasn’t something that would have been of particular interest to any other person, just a clean black car that must have been very expensive when it was purchased ten years, but now had changed hands to a new younger owner who was probably in grade school when his folks had originally purchased it. The driver was, of course, her brother Damien.

At first glance, there was nothing unusual about his appearance. He was parked in the fire lane by the entrance to their complex’s garage with his emergency lights on, his hands on the wheel as though he was waiting for someone who might show up at any moment. But there was just a bit of an energy about him that wasn’t quite right, and in a moment Amber’s soul was caught up in it, swept along for the ride.

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