Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: N/A
|Introduction: Chapter 1|
First I didnt write this, and dont own it, it is just one of my favorite stories. Second its long so if you dont want to read a long stories dont read this no bitching. There are five chpters total if i get a positve review for this one ill put up the rest. Also i have a bunch of other stories my friend from across the internet send me if anyone has a particluar genre of story they would like me to post my suggestions. Enjoy!
Andrew Kelly shuffled along the street on his way home. He had just left a teens-only club, called Nightlife, where he had once again been completely unsuccessful at enticing a girl to dance with him. He didn't understand what it was about him that repulsed them so much. As he passed a storefront, he looked at his reflection in the window. His blonde hair fell to just below his ears, his eyes a bright green. His tight T-shirt showed off his fit, but not overly muscular, body, and his jeans hugged his legs. He knew he wasn't ugly, by any stretch, and he was popular, so why didn't the girls want anything to do with him?
Andrew pondered this question, walking down the street with his head down, not really paying much attention to what he was doing. He felt a tug at his mind, and, without any conscious thought, he moved toward a dark alleyway. His head came up as he entered the alley, not sure why he was walking down such a dangerous corridor, and yet unable to stop himself from doing so. He tensed his body, ready for whatever fight might be about to happen, but the fight never came.
He continued to walk until he reached a car about three-quarters the way down the alley. A man was leaning against the front left fender of the car, which appeared to be a late-model luxury sedan of a dark color that Andrew couldn't discern in the poor lighting. Andrew's feet carried him to a spot ten feet from the man, and then his body stopped.
The man spoke in a smooth voice, low but clearly audible. "You are Andrew Kelly, 4233 Decatur Street?"
Andrew would not give him this information under any circumstances. It was ingrained in him from his childhood: never give personal information to strangers. "Yes, that's me." What the hell?
"Get in the car, please."
No way. This would violate an even more important rule. His parents had hammered this point home every time an abduction or disappearance came up on the news. He pondered all of this as he slid into the front passenger seat of the car. Finally realizing where he was, Andrew started to fear for his life, and his sanity. What the hell am I doing?
The unknown man slid behind the wheel, and started the car. The motor purred softly, almost so quietly as not to be heard inside the vehicle. Andrew noted the plush seats, the leather-covered dash, and the feel of newness in the vehicle. He paid little attention to where the driver was taking him, until they arrived at their destination.
The man startled Andrew out of his reverie when he said, "Get out." Andrew was worried that the man was going to leave him stranded in the middle of nowhere, but he got out of the car the same time Andrew did. Andrew's eyes swept the field before him. There were no houses in sight, and the main road was around a bend, behind some trees. The moon was full this evening, casting a pale glow on everything. Before him, about twenty feet away, was what looked like a mud hole. Andrew turned as the man began to speak.
"My name is Isaac. I'm sorry to bring you all the way out here without any idea as to why, but I think you'll understand when I explain." The man settled onto a tree stump, settling uneasily into his role as storyteller. Andrew noticed that he continually twisted a ring on his right hand.
"Two years ago, I was brought to this spot by a young woman. She gave me this," holding up his hand, he indicated the ring. "She told me it was a special ring, that it could affect people. Of course, I thought all of that was bullshit." Andrew nodded, wondering where this was going. "Well, to make a long story short, it wasn't. I mean, it wasn't bullshit. The ring works. That's how I got you out here. The ring did it."
"Uh-huh," Andrew responded noncommittally, wondering which psychiatric ward this guy had escaped from. "What has that got to do with me?"
"Yeah... yeah, I'm getting to that. The lady told me that I had to give the ring up in two years. I was only allowed to keep it for the two years, and then I had to pass it along to someone else. That's you."
"Why'd you pick me?"
"I didn't. The ring did. I had no idea how to select someone to give it to... the ring just sort of took hold."
Andrew was really beginning to wonder about his own sanity for playing along with this guy, but he thought back to the trip in the car. Not for one moment had he actually been able to resist the man's instructions. Perhaps there was more here than just a crazy man. Besides, what could a piece of metal do to him?
"Okay, so hand it over."
"It, er... doesn't work like that. There's a ritual you have to go through before you take possession of the ring."
Andrew sighed, figuring here's where the con came in. "Okay," he said with some dejection, "what do I have to do?"
The man fidgeted on his stump, twisting the ring some more. Finally, he said, "You've got to go walk into the pit over there."
"What? Are you nuts?"
"Hey, I didn't wanna do it, either. You've got to do it for the ring to work... and you've got to walk in naked. Up to your neck. Stand there until you feel like it's time to come out."
Well, there was no way Andrew was doing this. This is all bullshit, he thought as his hands pulled his T-shirt over his head. There is no way I'm undressing and walking into that slime. His pants fell to the ground as he continued to think, This guy's got to be completely loony if he thinks I'm gonna walk into that... Andrew's thoughts trailed off as he realized he was now standing stark naked in front of a strange man. His hands quickly moved to cover his crotch. Slowly, without any impulse from his own brain, Andrew's legs marched him toward the mud pit.
The first step into the ooze made Andrew's stomach lurch. He felt the soft, warm liquid squish in between his toes, feeling like all sorts of nasty things that he would rather not think about. His second step was no better, the slime inching its way up his legs as he slid deeper into the scum. The mud was incredibly warm, which seemed odd, given that it was something of a cool night, and had been a cold day for the time of year. Slowly, inexorably, Andrew moved toward the center of the pit. As the muck covered his crotch, he felt it sliding around his dick and balls, and it made him squirm endlessly. Yet he was compelled to continue on. In just a few more steps, the slime had risen to his neck, and his feet stopped moving. He did not know how he was supposed to tell when it was time to leave...
The material around him began to move, and it terrified Andrew. His first thought was quicksand! but he knew that if it were quicksand, he would have drowned already. The slimy substance swirled around his body, growing even warmer. It slipped all the way around his body, coating him fully. For minutes he stood, waiting, and feeling the scum slide across his skin. Strangely, he found that the feeling was becoming somewhat pleasant, and this scared him more than anything else had. Am I going completely nuts, now?
The mud slowed, and finally stopped its swirling action. Andrew instinctively knew it was time to leave. The walk out of the muck seemed much easier than the walk in, but he was completely coated from head to toe in the slime, and it was not coming off, even as he brushed at it.
"Don't bother," called Isaac. "The slime will only come off when it has dried. It is another part of the ring's magic." For the first time, Isaac had used the word 'magic'. It registered clearly with Andrew, for he had once had a passing interest in magic, but he had long ago passed it by as foolishness.
"Now what?" Andrew said, leaning against the man's car, trying to hide his nakedness from the stranger.
The man hesitated for a moment, and then let out a sigh of relief. "I guess we just wait, now."
"You seem awfully happy about something."
"Well, to be honest, I was worried. When I came out of the muck, the lady who gave me the ring and I... well, we got it on pretty hot and heavy, if you know what I mean. It seemed as if that was part of the ritual. No offense, but I don't swing that way."
"If you tried it, I'd be doing the swinging... with a fist."
"I doubt either of us would have any ability to stop it if it were to happen. The ring grants power, but it also takes a certain amount of control. You'll need to practice with it, to learn how it works. It's not something that can be explained. I'm told it's a little bit different for each wearer. You should never take the ring off, though. You don't want to lose it. The lady told me that the last person who lost the ring went mad, killed twenty people, and then killed themselves."
"How do you lose a ring like that?"
"There are people who know about the ring; people who want to possess its magic. They may try to take the ring from you. Beware of anyone who befriends you suddenly in the next few weeks."
As they had been talking, the slime on Andrew's body had dried. He realized that it had happened rather quickly for such scum. He looked over at Isaac for instructions.
"This is going to sound silly as hell, but it works. Stand away from the car, and shake yourself like a wet dog."
Andrew looked at him with some chagrin, but stepped away from the car and did as the man suggested. Quickly, the now-powdery material fell away from Andrew's body into a pile on the ground. The wind kicked up, and blew the material back into the mud pit, and then died away. The coincidence was not lost on Andrew.
As he got dressed, Isaac came over to him. He pulled the ring from his finger. "Wear it only on your right ring finger. No other."
Andrew took it from him, but he could instantly tell that it was not going to fit his big hands. Isaac was a slight man, almost frail, and his hands were almost feminine in appearance. He looked at Isaac, seeking an explanation.
"The lady who gave it to me had hands even smaller than mine. Just start putting it on. It will fit."
Andrew shrugged, figuring if he couldn't get it on, then it had been an interesting and, so far, harmless game. As the ring passed his fingertip, he felt it begin to heat up. He could feel it changing in his hand. He looked in awe as the ring grew in size, slipping past his knuckle, and settling comfortably into position on his upper finger. As soon as he took his other hand away from the ring, he felt a surge of energy wash over and through his body. He knew then that there was no way the man was bullshitting him. He just felt more powerful now.
"Come on, I'll drive you back to town." They got in the car, and Isaac gave him his final instructions. "Never let the ring out of your sight. It's best if you never take it off. The ring's power will not be drained by use, so feel free to use it regularly. It does insist on seeing sunlight every day or two... it will force you outside if you persist in denying it the sunlight. And in two years, on the night of the full moon, you need to pass the ring on to someone else. The ring will tell you who. If you miss that night for any reason, take the ring off until the next full moon. Continuing to wear it would be a grave mistake.
"The power of the ring to affect people will grow with your ability to understand what it does. Practice is essential. Play with it; learn how it works. Otherwise, you will never get full use of it."
"Just what can I do with it? How does it affect people?"
"I'm not allowed to tell you that. You'll find out soon enough."
They rode in silence back to the point that Andrew had met Isaac to begin with. Isaac said one more time before leaving, "Remember, two years from now, on the full moon. Don't forget."
Like I'm ever going to forget tonight, Andrew thought as Isaac drove away. Shaking his head and muttering to himself, Andrew continued his walk home.
Andrew was, obviously, very late getting home that night. His father was waiting for him when he walked in the door.
"Where the hell have you been, mister? It's past midnight. You know the rules. What damned hussy have you been with tonight, huh? I'll teach you to disobey my rules..." His father advanced on him.
Andrew and his family had put up with his father's abuse for a very long time. His mother had told Andrew that his father hadn't always been like this, but he had a hard time believing that. He knew he'd be safe once he got to his bedroom, but his father was blocking the way to the hallway. And on he came.
"You think you're special or something, you don't have to follow my rules? Maybe I need to knock some sense into you!" His father's voice rose, but he also moved slightly sideways, and Andrew saw his chance. He darted quickly past his father, who nearly roared as he grabbed for Andrew on his way past. Andrew hustled down the hallway, closing and locking his bedroom door. He moved over to his bed, and then heard his father's fist slam, one time only, into his door. "You and I are not through, Andrew Michael Kelly!" Then he heard his father storm off down the hallway. He worried that he might take his anger out on his mother, but there was nothing he could do about it. Or so he thought.
The next morning at breakfast, he could see that his father had, in fact, beaten his mother the previous night, but whether before or after Andrew got home, he didn't have the courage to ask. The two of them had a special bond, suffering through their hell together. Andrew thought his mother was the loveliest woman he'd ever seen. She was thirty-five, but looked more like twenty-five. Andrew erased, in his mind, the bruising on her cheek, and he could see her smiling face, her sparkling green eyes, framed by her lustrous light-brown hair. Her body was equally splendid, with a well-toned figure and a nice chest. The only discordant note was the large black-and-blue mark below her left eye. It made Andrew's blood boil, but he had long since given up hope that there would be any way out of this hell. He had tried standing up to his father only once. He had gotten a broken arm and a bloody nose for his trouble.
His sister traipsed in, interrupting the silent fellowship in the kitchen. Andrew's sister Joannie was the exception to the rule. Their father loved Joannie. Everything she did was acceptable to him. And Joannie was a shit. She treated both Andrew and their mother like some kind of lower life form. She had a superiority complex to make Napoleon feel insignificant, and she hid behind her father whenever she wanted her way in the family. Although Andrew had never talked about it, he was sure his mother didn't like Joannie any more than he did. The two of them ignored her as she bustled around the kitchen, getting her own breakfast, and ignoring them.
Although Joannie had a car, a metallic blue Camaro, she never offered Andrew a ride to school. This morning was no different. He grabbed his school bag, kissed his mother, and left for his walk to school. The high school wasn't all that far, but it was a good fifteen-minute walk. Not that he really minded the walk, so long as the weather was nice, which this morning it was. The air was cool with the autumn wind whispering softly in the trees.
He met one of his friends, Steve, on the way to school.
"You don't look so hot, man," Steve said, noting that Andrew was shuffling in that same way he had the night before. Before the ring.
"My father's being an ass again," he mumbled.
"Shit. Well, try not to think about it. Hey, they say Miss Walker's gonna be back today!"
Miss Walker was an English teacher. Miss Walker was also, by every estimation, the hottest babe in the school. Still in her mid-twenties, she had a body for Playboy. Her long blonde hair and deep blue eyes had melted many a boy's heart in the last two years that she'd been at Dalmont High. It was something to cheer Andrew up, if only slightly.
"Yeah? Good to know... at least we'll have something to look at again." Though Steve and Andrew did not have her class together, they both had her as a teacher. As a matter of fact, they both sat in the same seat... it was a very special seat.
They chatted about other things on the way to class, and separated at the front doors to go to their individual classes. Andrew began what he thought would be another boring day of school. His first class was History.
Andrew's "boring" day came to a screaming halt when he entered his English class, his last for the day. Miss Walker was, indeed, back, and the outfit she was wearing... He had always wondered how she got away with it. Her outfit looked for all the world like a schoolgirl's uniform, right down to the plaid skirt and the bobby socks. Her white blouse encased her wonderful breasts, and her skirt showed off much of her legs. The skirt, however, stopped about three inches above her knees, which was cutting it close by dress-code standards, and certainly wasn't something a teacher would normally wear. Andrew tried not to gawk as he slid into his seat.
Now, Andrew had a "special" seat. Because of the unusual shape of their classroom, Andrew was in a row all by himself. It wasn't any kind of punishment, that's just where she had decided to put him. This seat was also right in front of her desk, which Andrew minded not one bit. Miss Walker didn't use a regular desk: she sat at a worktable, and so Andrew had a good shot of her legs whenever she sat down. And he was the only one in the class who had this view, because there was a filing cabinet on one side of her desk, and a wall on the other. No one else could see beneath the desk except the person in this chair. He wondered that she had not put a girl in this seat, but perhaps it just didn't occur to her at all.
He tried to pay attention to her lecture, but it was very hard to do with the way she was dressed. He was very distracted as he watched her legs walk her across the floor, and as he imagined what was beneath the starched white fabric of her blouse.
Finally, she finished her lecture, and gave them their reading assignment. This was the point at which she sat down at her desk, to do some paperwork. This was the point at which Andrew's eyes could no longer be controlled, as they were drawn uncontrollably to her legs, crossed so sexily as she sat doing her paperwork.
Now, Andrew had already read the story they were working on; he'd read it the previous summer. Not having any work to do allowed his mind to roam freely, and the subject it chose to daydream about was... well, rather obvious. His mind imagined all sorts of things, not in any serious way, but in the lust-crazed "what if" mode of teenage boys.
As the class was coming to an end, Andrew began to wonder just how "complete" Miss Walker's outfit was... what she was wearing beneath the skirt. He wondered if she were wearing the white cotton panties that would complete the uniform, or if she were wearing something sexier. He began to concentrate on her legs, his thoughts focused on them. He didn't feel the tingle on his finger.
Andrew struggled not to gasp as Miss Walker uncrossed her legs, and placed them fairly far apart. He fought to see quickly, fearing that she would soon realize the position she was in, but he still could not make out what type of panties she had on, for the skirt was thick enough to make the area between her legs completely dark. He strained his eyes, and still he did not feel the tingle on his finger.
Miss Walker continued doing her paperwork, but her one hand moved beneath the table at which she was sitting. It moved to the hem of her dress, and pulled it up her legs. Andrew's eyes were glued to the sight as her skirt traveled further and further up her thighs. Finally, he could see that her uniform was not complete. He stared openly at the red bikini briefs she wore beneath her prim and proper dress, her pussy lips nearly peaking out the sides of the thin fabric. He marveled at the sight of his teacher's pussy, covered or not.
The school bell jolted them both. Her hand automatically moved her skirt back down, and she then looked up. She looked right at him, but gave no indication of what she had just done. "All right, class. Have this read by class time tomorrow. See you then." Everyone made a mad dash for the door, except Andrew, who walked a little shakily out of the classroom.
He moved down the sidewalk without really seeing where he was going, trying to figure out just what was going on. Is she flirting with me? Why would she? But how else to explain it? It took him over half the walk home to remember the ring. Could the ring have done that? Isaac said it 'has an effect' on people around you... Well, that would be some effect! I mean... how could she have known what I was thinking? She couldn't have. It must have been the ring... but how did I make it work? I mean, thank God it didn't react to all of my daydreams! He pondered these questions as he walked in his front door, and back to his bedroom, flopping down on his bed.
His thoughts were disrupted by his sister entering his room, a vicious grin on her face. About what, he didn't want to know, really.
"Hey, little brother," she said, emphasizing the adjective, "How did your attempt to find a date go last night?"
This was the kind of thing that happened between them regularly, and Andrew was pretty fed up with her ragging on him about it. "Same old shit, Jo. Now go away and leave me alone."
"Aw, what's the matter? The little man can't find himself a girl? You wanna know why?" She asked, suddenly serious.
He looked at her for a few seconds, gauging whether or not she'd tell him the truth if he said yes. "Sure, why don't you tell me why," he said finally.
"Because I warned all the girls how much a pervert you are. I told them you like to do sick shit in bed." Her vicious grin turned into an evil smile. Now, Andrew had only had sex once, and it certainly hadn't been anything kinky or weird. Not that it mattered to Joannie.
"Why the fuck did you do that?" He nearly screamed. He sat upright on his bed, now staring daggers at her.
"Because I could, you little shit! You think I want you touching any of my friends at school? They all think you're cute, but not a one of them will go near you after what I've told them! Hah!"
"You fucking little vindictive bitch!" He was almost shaking with the rage he felt. "One of these days, I'm gonna teach you a lesson!"
Joannie was unfazed. "What are ya gonna do, little man? Spank me?"
Before he could even control himself, he said, "Why don't you come over here and find out!" This time, he felt the tingle. His sister sauntered over to him, standing over him, still with her look of superiority on her face.
"Well?" she taunted.
Andrew couldn't believe what he was doing, but he couldn't stop himself, either. "I can't spank you standing up. Bend over my knee, dammit!" He stared amazed as she did it, her tight black mini-skirt riding up her legs as she laid herself across her brother's lap. He could feel the bottom of her tits, inside her tank top, resting against his leg.
Andrew's hand was almost shaking as he reached for her skirt hem. He grabbed hold, and pulled it roughly up to her waist. He took note of the satiny underwear she was wearing, as he began to pull it off her hips. She tried to rise at that.
"What are you doing?" she asked nervously.
"I can't spank you with underwear in the way, duh!" He continued pulling it off until it was around her knees.
He stared briefly at the bare ass before him. It had been many years since he'd seen his sister naked... and never after she'd reached puberty. She was seventeen now, and he was sixteen. He rested his hand lightly on her ass cheek.
"Ready?" he asked. She nodded weakly. He lifted his hand above his head, and came down with a thunderous slap! Joannie jerked in his lap, her tits shaking against his leg, her ass contracting at the pain. Again, his hand rose, and came down, this time on the other cheek. Again she jerked, and her ass contracted. He was enjoying the sight as much as the feel of power this gave him. Again his hand rose, and again it descended. He repeated this over and over, letting his frustrations out on his bitchy older sister.
After thirty good smacks, his hand was stinging, and her ass was fiery red. For the first time, he noticed that her legs had parted during the punishment, and he could see down to where her pussy lips lay in wait. He could feel her sobbing now, the pain finally having broken through her tough exterior. He couldn't resist his impulse, and he slid his hand from where it rested against her ass, down into the space between her legs.
When his fingers brushed her cunt lips, her reaction was instantaneous. She tried to push herself up off his lap. "What are you doing?" she cried. She would have pulled her legs shut, but his hand was in the way.
"Lay back down!" he ordered, and she immediately complied. His hand rubbed against her lips repeatedly, feeling the smooth skin there. One finger slipped instinctively into her depths, quickly finding her hole. His finger slid slowly into her, and she wriggled in his lap. She was still crying gently from the spanking, but her body was also reacting to the work of his hand. He could feel her tits pressing against his leg, and he could feel his cock straining at his pants. He was sure she could feel it pressing against her abdomen, as well.
His finger continued to slip in and out of her, and soon he felt the moistness between her lips. Her body was warming up to his activity, heedless of who was touching her. He pushed a second finger into her, and she moaned involuntarily. He twisted his hand as his fingers pushed in, sending tingles of pleasure into his sister's cunt. She moaned again.
His other hand slid beneath her and cupped one tit. She started to move his hand off, but a single thought willed her to comply with his action. He fondled and groped her breast through her tank top, but quickly grew tired of that. He pulled the garment loose from her skirt, and reached in beneath, now stroking bare flesh.
Joannie moaned uncontrollably at the feel of his hands on her. She was sweating in an effort to control her body's motions, but it wasn't working. Her pussy was wet, her nipples were hard, and her breathing was ragged. She was fully aroused.
Seeing this, Andrew figured it was about time his sister got her final punishment. He swung her around onto the bed as he rose from his sitting position. With her panties around her knees and her on her back, he had a wonderful view of her glistening pussy, just waiting for more attention. He yanked her panties off her, and moved between her legs before she could close them. He reached down and mauled her tits again, yanking her tank top up over them, so that he could get a good look. Then he reached up and took his own shirt off.
"Wh-what are you doing, Andrew?" his sister asked.
"You won't let me touch any of your friends, sister dear," he mocked, throwing his shirt over his shoulder, and unbuckling his belt. "So I'm going to fuck you instead."
His sister became very pale. "Andrew, you can't! I'm your sister!"
"You should have thought of that before you gave me no other options." His face was set as he pulled down his jeans and kicked them off, along with his shoes. His sister gasped as he then pulled down his briefs and kicked them off.
"You're a fucking horse!" she cried, almost in panic at the idea of having his nine-inch cock inside her.
Andrew chuckled. "I guess that makes you a horse's ass... or at least a horse's piece of ass!" He rubbed his dickhead along her pussy lips, getting himself lubed for the task ahead.
"Mom will hear you! You'll get caught!" Joannie tried one last plea.
"So what if she hears us? She won't even come into this part of the house since you got her beat up when she caught you fucking your last boyfriend. She'll just think you're screwing someone else... And she'll be right!"
Andrew positioned his large member at his sister's opening, and began to press in. His large girth and her tight hole made it slow going, even with her pussy fully lubricated. He pressed into her slowly, enjoying the look of dismay on her face, and he watched it turn into a look of pleasure as his dick continued to slowly sink into her depths. When he was about half-way in, he pulled out, until just the head of his cock was inside. He watched her eyes, and they spoke of a longing to be filled again, her previous words almost forgotten now.
He pressed into her again, going a little farther before backing out. He moved this way repeatedly, slowly making his way into his sister's cunt. Finally, he hit bottom, and he moved his hips in small circles, grinding their pubic bones together. His sister was covered with sweat and panting heavily from the pleasure of it. He reached down and fondled her tits, and she groaned loudly.
After a few moments, he began to move in and out of her, more quickly than before but still not rushing. His one experience with a girl (who had not known Joannie: now he understood why he'd gotten anywhere with her) allowed him to control himself to some extent, and he wanted to give his sister a good reaming.
His dick moved in and out of her, and her sounds of joy grew. He continued to grope her tits, pinching her nipples and enjoying the mixed look of pain and lust on her face when he did. Soon, his pace quickened, almost of its own accord. His sister was quickly approaching her climax, and when it came, she clamped her cunt around his dick so hard he wasn't sure he'd be able to continue pumping into her. He managed it, and watched with contentment as she writhed on the bed, impaled on his shaft. He continued fucking her throughout her orgasm, and beyond. He was coming near his own climax, but he'd been able to hold it off so far.
Once he knew he couldn't resist any longer, he grabbed his sister up off the bed, holding her up in his arms. She was light enough, and he was strong enough, that he barely noticed her weight as he slid her up and down his cock, using her as a human fuck toy. As his orgasm approached, he slammed his cock fully into her, hard. Her mouth flew open with the surprise at being so suddenly full that way, and he plastered his lips to hers, his tongue thrusting into her mouth. She instinctively kissed back, her tongue dancing with his, first in her mouth, and then his, and then back again.
She soon felt his cum spurting into her, filling her up even more. The sensation gave her another small orgasm of her own, and her pussy contracted along his cock, dragging even more cum from his balls. They stayed that way for some time, lips locked and bodies merged, until finally Andrew broke the kiss, and let his sister fall, more or less gently, to the bed, his dick sliding out of her as she rested on her back. He looked at her lying there, her mouth open slightly as she tried to catch her breath, and he knew there was one more thing she should do for him.
He moved around to where her head lay, and he laid his softening dick across her lips. "Clean it off," he ordered.
Slowly, her tongue wormed its way out of her mouth, and it slid along his shaft. She didn't enjoy the taste of her own juices at all, but she couldn't seem to disobey the order. Her tongue got most of it off, but she knew in order to clean the whole thing, she would have to take it into her mouth. She had never blown any of her boyfriends, and she couldn't believe she was going to stick her brother's dick into her mouth... especially after where it had already been.
She sucked his now-shrinking dick into her mouth, and used her tongue and lips to clean it off. She was thankful that he didn't harden again: she was afraid he'd want more sex.
Once he was satisfied that she had humiliated herself enough, Andrew pulled his dick out of her mouth. He moved over to his pile of clothes, and started to redress.
"Get out," he said coldly. "And I wouldn't tell Dad about this, if I were you."
Joannie quickly grabbed her panties off the floor, pulled her shirt and skirt down, and ran out of the room. Andrew heard her closing her own bedroom door.
That'll teach the little bitch. I'll be damned; this ring thing works pretty good!
He didn't yet know the half of it.
Andrew had fully expected his father to come storming into his room and beat the living shit out of him that night, but it never happened. He awoke the next morning feeling well rested, and trotted down to breakfast. He found his sister already there, but she left as soon as he entered the room.
"Problem between you two?" his mother asked.
"When isn't there?" Andrew replied, as he got a bowl from the cupboard.
"I wish I understood Joannie," his mother said wistfully. It was the first time she'd ever spoken to him at all about his sister's behavior.
"She's a bitch. What's to understand?"
His mother overlooked his use of language and said, "There must be a reason for it, Andy." Only his mother called him that.
"She takes after Dad."
"I suppose. It's too bad, though. She could be a lot more than..." his mother couldn't finish the sentence.
"Yeah," Andrew responded.
Andrew's school day was the same crap as usual, but he was looking forward to English class, and Miss Walker. I wonder what I can make her do today. He knew he had to be careful: if the other kids had seen what she'd done yesterday, she would be in serious trouble. He certainly didn't want to get her fired: she was much too fun to look at.
He slid into his seat, and looked around for her, but she wasn't in the classroom yet. He hoped she would be there soon.
Miss Walker hurried in just as the bell rang for the start of class. Andrew noted that her hands kept sliding across her skirt, trying to smooth out imagined wrinkles. He wondered just what she had been doing that she believed had rumpled her dress.
The dress itself was slightly more proper than the previous day, being a navy blue skirt coming just to her knees, topped by another starched white blouse. It again reminded him of a schoolgirl outfit, but she had foregone the bobby socks and sneakers in favor of stockings and pumps today. It took him a moment to notice that she seemed very flustered as she began the class.
He sat, admiring her form as she lectured on the story they'd read the day before. About halfway through her lecture, something odd happened, and Andrew was startled to see a funny greenish glow surround his teacher for a few seconds. He felt the tingle of his ring, but that seemed... different from when he had been controlling his sister. Quickly he looked around, but none of the other kids acted surprised, so he figured he was the only one who could see the glow. Soon the tingling on his finger faded, and the green glow with it. He wondered what it all meant.
Finally, she sat down at her desk, and the other kids settled into reading the assigned chapter of the book. He wondered if he could get her to show him her panties again. He focused his attention on her legs, as he had yesterday.
This time, she noticed. He saw her sit more upright in her chair. He tried to keep the look on his face innocent, but, though she was looking in his direction, she wasn't seeing him. Her face was quite blank, but her legs slid slowly apart, until they were even farther apart than they had been the day before.. While her face remained impassive, both of her hands slipped down below the table and pulled her skirt up, bunching it around her waist. The first thing he noticed was that she was wearing a garter belt and stockings, not pantyhose. He'd seen such outfits in Victoria's Secret catalogs, but had never expected to see them in real life. Once again she wore skimpy bikini brief panties, this time a light blue color, to go with her skirt. He wondered if that was simply a woman's necessity for matching clothing, or if she expected somebody to see that her clothing all matched.
The view was entertaining for a moment, but he wondered what else she would do. Here, he had to be very careful. If either of them made any noise at all, the rest of the class would be alerted. He thought very hard, and then he came up with something, just to see if it would work. He focused his mind on the thought...
Miss Walker's right hand moved from its place holding her skirt at her waist. Her fingers dragged along her skin as it moved slowly toward her crotch. The fingers brushed gently against the fabric of her skimpy panties, until they were actually covering her pussy. Now, her middle finger firmly pressed against the fabric, pushing it deep in-between her cunt lips. Her hand moved up as her finger pressed more of the fabric inward. When she was finished, her panties were pushed lewdly into her cunt, and her outer lips were clearly visible.
Andrew strained not to groan at the sight. He had a clear view of her panties wadded up inside her twat. He could see her outer lips pouting around her hole, and he could even tell that there was some moisture there. Andrew enjoyed the sight, but he realized that class was about to end. His interrupted thought broke his hold on his teacher, and she returned quickly to her normal posture. He did note, however, that she didn't pull her panties out. He wondered what that meant.
When the school bell rang, Miss Walker didn't say anything, not that anyone cared, since it was the end of the day and they were making mad dashes for their buses or cars. Andrew took his time putting his books in his book bag. He was walking home, so there was no point in hurrying out the door just to be caught in a stampede of kids. He paid little attention to Miss Walker as he got up to leave the room.
"Andrew? Could you come here a moment?"
Oh, shit! She knows! Andrew walked slowly over beside her desk. He noted that one of her hands was out of sight.
"Yes, Miss Walker?"
"Andrew, I think you need to take this home with you," she said, and held something out to him. It looked like a piece of cloth...
Andrew gasped as it fell into his hand and he realized what it was. Her panties! But how did she... I mean, I thought about taking them for a second, but... Shit! Miss Walker continued to stare at him, as if expecting a reply. He took a deep breath as he looked at them, and then back at her. "Um... thanks, Miss Walker."
She looked at him quizzically for a moment, then said, "See you tomorrow, Andrew." She immediately returned to her work, and he quickly put the garment in his book bag, and headed out the door.
His walk home was a confused one, as he tried to figure out all of what had happened in English class.
As Andrew walked to school the following day, his mind pondered all that had happened. He had hidden Miss Walker's underwear in his secret spot. His mother had not yet discovered this spot, and no one else would bother to look.
He took enjoyment from the fact that his sister avoided him now. If he entered a room, she would leave. If she couldn't leave, she would avoid his gaze, and she wouldn't say a word while he was present. Andrew worried that she would eventually tell their father what happened, but he figured he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.
About halfway to school, Andrew felt eyes on him. He slowed, then stopped, and looked around. He saw no one, but the feeling wouldn't go away. He'd grown so used to the minor tingle on his finger that he didn't even notice the slight increase in its intensity. He kept his eyes alert as he finished walking to school, hoping to catch whoever it was. He figured it was Steve, playing some kind of game, but as he approached the school, he saw Steve waiting for him at the front door. As soon as he stepped on school grounds, however, the feeling dissipated. Andrew didn't have time to consider what it all meant, as Steve came up to him to ask him where he'd been.
After giving an excuse to Steve, for he didn't want his friend to think he was becoming paranoid, he headed for his first class of the day.
Andrew met up with Steve again at lunch, and he could immediately tell that Steve was having a bad day.
"What's up, man?" Andrew asked.
"Oh, just don't ask. God, I hate that bitch!"
"Um, which bitch in particular is it this time?" Andrew knew it had to be one of his teachers. Steve was rarely around girls his own age.
"Mrs. Boerner. She gave me D-Hall."
"What is it you didn't do this time?" Andrew tried not to smirk. Although he did seem to get a disproportionately large amount of detention for the things he did, he was definitely not an innocent.
"Oh, Jake and I were screwing around in class. But we were being quiet about it, I mean, the girl in front of me didn't even say anything to us about it, so we can't have been causing too much of a problem!" Jake Salton was Steve's only other friend.
"Jake get caught, too?"
"Oh, hell yeah. He's the one she actually caught! I got tagged because... well, you know." What Andrew knew was that neither Steve nor Jake ever acted up without the other one being involved.
"Yeah, I know. Well, the day can't get much worse for you, I guess."
"I suppose not. At least I got Miss Walker next hour," he said, as his eyes moved across the room. Andrew looked to see Miss Walker on lunchroom duty. Andrew figured it would be a nice thought to give his friend a pick-me-up, so he thought of what he could do.
An easy answer popped into his head, and he focused his thought on the teacher for a moment. He, of course, added some fun for himself as well. He noticed Miss Walker's pace slow, and again he saw the strange green glow, what he knew was called an aura, around her. It intensified for a second, and then settled back down to its previous level. As Steve tried to get Andrew's attention, the glow faded away.
"Hey, buddy! Where'd you go there for a minute?" Steve asked.
Andrew cleared his throat. "Never mind... just thinkin'. Say, you're still sitting in my seat in Miss Walker's class, right?"
"I sit in your seat in almost every class. But yeah, I'm still there. Why?"
"Just... keep an eye on Miss Walker today. Let me know if you see anything... interesting."
"O... kay... Like what?"
They ate the rest of their lunch while chatting about nothing in particular, since Andrew wouldn't give Steve any further clues about what to expect. Andrew didn't want to say anything specific, because he wasn't entirely sure it would work. He'd never tried to make someone do something in a delayed manner like this.
When Andrew got to Miss Walker's class, Steve had already left, but there was a note lying on the desk waiting for him. Andrew opened it slowly; making sure no one else could see it. It read: "Holy shit! Damn, what a view! How did you know she was going to do that???"
Andrew folded the note away and sat down. He was glad to have cheered his friend up, if only temporarily. Just then, he felt a soft hand on his shoulder, and jumped slightly. He turned to see Miss Walker looking down at him.
"Sorry to startle you, Andrew," she said softly.
"That's okay, Miss Walker. Something wrong?"
"Oh, no. I just have something else I think you need to take home." Andrew held out a slightly shaky hand, and Miss Walker placed a wadded up piece of cloth in it. "I hope this completes your collection, Andrew," she said as she walked off. He closed his hand around the fabric, watching her ass sway as she walked to the front of the room. When she turned around, he could tell that she wasn't wearing a bra. He held that in his hand.
Andrew left Miss Walker alone for the rest of the day, not wanting to push his luck, since he had learned two things from today's encounter. The first was obvious: he could give a command that would be obeyed later. The second worried him more, and that was that Miss Walker obviously remembered her activities under his control, even if she never spoke of them.
As class neared its end, Andrew could sense that Miss Walker was becoming very tense. The green glow reappeared around her, and it seemed brighter than it usually was; almost as bright as when he'd given her orders earlier.
The class bell rang and broke his thoughts. Miss Walker dismissed the class, and wished them a good weekend. Andrew left the classroom, but stopped and hid around a corner. He wanted to see what had Miss Walker so worried. He ducked back around the corner as she came out of her room, and walked away from him down the hallway. He moved quietly, keeping a safe distance behind. He noted that the green aura was still there, as bright as it had been in the room.
Miss Walker headed into the principal's office and closed the door. Andrew could hear it lock behind her. He looked around to see if anyone could observe him. On Friday afternoons, the school emptied quickly, even of teaching personnel and cleaning staff. He snuck over to the door to listen in, but realized that the blinds on the window didn't cover the entire pane of glass. He could see in.
What he saw shocked him. Miss Walker was opening her blouse in front of Mr. Demar, the principal! She was turned enough away from the window that Andrew had no view, but he could imagine the view that Mr. Demar now had: it was a view Andrew wanted. Inside the office, however, Mr. Demar was not pleased. Andrew could hear their conversation clearly.
"Where is your bra?" Mr. Demar shouted.
"I... I gave it to someone."
"You... gave it... to someone?" Mr. Demar spluttered. "Who? Was it a student?" he growled.
"You let a student see your tits!"
"No sir!" Miss Walker was quick to straighten out this misunderstanding. "I took it off in the restroom. I gave it to him in class."
"Why?" he ordered.
"I... I don't know."
"I don't know."
"You lying bitch! You will be punished for this!"
Andrew saw Mr. Demar rise and grab her arm. He swung her around and bent her over his desk. He lifted her skirt and bunched it at her waist, and with his free hand, he grabbed for his paddle on the wall. Andrew stared in shock at the look of resignation on Miss Walker's face, as if this were commonplace, at the look on Mr. Demar's face, one of rage, and at the paddle he was now wielding over her. Andrew winced as he heard it connect with her backside, and he heard Miss Walker cry out in pain.
But he didn't have time to observe further.
He felt a strong arm grab him from behind and spin him around. His first thought was that a teacher had caught him peeping. But the person before him was no older than he was. As a matter of fact, he looked very familiar. He was in Andrew's English class.
"Give me the ring!" the boy hissed.
"What?" Andrew asked, confused from the scene he had just witnessed, and completely befuddled as to what this boy wanted.
"The ring! Give it to me now!"
Andrew had stepped back from the boy, and he could feel the tingle on his finger. He said nothing.
"Morph ereth otari emok otem!" the boy uttered the words quietly, but with vigor.
Andrew felt something slide along his finger. He looked down to see that the ring was starting to move off his hand. Andrew almost panicked, but closed his hand into a fist. The ring stopped moving.
"Morph ereth otari emok otem!" The boy said with more energy. Andrew felt a pull on his hand.
By now Andrew knew that this was one of the people Isaac had warned him about. He wanted the ring, and he meant to have it.
"You want this ring?" Andrew grunted between clenched teeth, fighting the pull of the boy's spell on his hand, "Then here, you can have it!"
Andrew hurled his fist as hard as he could at the boy's nose. The contact made a squishing sound, and the other boy staggered back, blood gushing from his almost certainly broken nose. The boy's hands flew to his face, feeling the blood there. When his eyes turned back to Andrew, there was murder in them. He raised his hands, probably to offer up a more dangerous spell. Andrew stepped back, ready to run, but there wasn't time.
"Ejairnlab ot esacmit nap!" Andrew heard, but the voice was not the boy's. Andrew watched as his enemy was enveloped by a large ball of blue light, and tossed a dozen feet away. He lay on the ground, moaning in pain. Andrew stared at him, and then looked around for whoever had just saved his hide.
He saw her then. She was standing in the doorway of the school, some fifty feet from him. As she approached, he appraised her appearance. Her hair was jet black, and hung to the middle of her back, as straight as could be. It blended nicely into the long-sleeved black blouse she wore, with silver buttons on the front. The blouse tucked into her black jeans, with a black leather belt and a silver belt buckle, with a pattern on it he didn't recognize. Her feet were encased in black calf-skin calf boots, with black laces done all the way up.
As she grew closer, he could finally make out her face, which had been hidden from him due to the light behind her. Her green eyes seemed to almost pulse with energy. Her lips were a pale pink, obviously unadorned with any form of lipstick or gloss. As far as he could tell, she wore no makeup at all. He did notice the blue aura surrounding her, however. As she stopped about five feet from him, he finally regained his voice.
"Uh... thanks. I think I was about to have my ass kicked."
"Almost certainly," she responded. Her voice was low, soft and very silky.
"Yeah... um... well... Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but why did you save me?"
"You seemed worth the effort. Besides, this one is a long-standing enemy of mine." She looked at the one lying on the floor, and her gaze turned dark and forbidding. When she returned her eyes to Andrew, the look was friendlier. "You are new to the magic."
After what she'd just done, he was hardly surprised at her mention of magic, but that she knew he had some was a worry.
"Uh... yeah. How did you...?"
"I can see the aura of magic around you. It is not the aura of a victim, so you must be a user."
"Oh." Just then, the sounds coming from Mr. Demar's office caught Andrew's attention. They were no longer the sounds of a paddling, but definite sounds of sexual activity. Andrew didn't know whether it was willing or not. "We should do something to help her..."
"Neither of us has the power to do anything against Mr. Demar. At least, not yet."
"I will never be able to challenge him. But the power you control is far greater than mine. You must learn how to use it."
"If you are willing, I will teach you what I know. I am no mage, but I know some things that may be useful to you. Go to this address tomorrow afternoon. I will be there waiting for you." She handed him an index card with an address and a map on it. He looked it over for a minute. When he looked up, she was already walking away.
"Hey!" he called after her. She stopped and turned around.
"Who are you?"
"Rachel Sutton. That is all you need to know for now." With that, she walked out the front door, and was gone.
Andrew didn't have the courage to look through the window at what was going on inside the office. He gave the still-unconscious boy a wide berth, and made his way out his usual exit, on his way home.
That night, Andrew left the house soon after his sister. It was a Friday, and it was a party night for his sister. Andrew usually went to one of the teen clubs on Fridays, hoping to find a date. He knew now why he'd been so unsuccessful, and it still pissed him off. He'd get back at his sister for that.
Tonight was part of that revenge. He was searching for one girl in particular: Joannie's best friend, Charlotte. He knew that the really cool kids all hung out at Serenade, a club not unlike Nightlife, but in a different part of town. He knew that Joannie and Charlotte would be there until at least ten, when they would go off to some party or other. Andrew knew better than to come in late again, so he had to move somewhat more quickly than his sister, who could come in at four in the morning without any repercussions.
Although he'd left after his sister, he arrived at Serenade before her. He figured she and Charlotte were taking their own sweet time putting on their makeup over at Charlotte's house before making the club scene. He sat at a small table in the corner, nursing his soda, and waited. No one stopped to speak to him, no girls came over to him, although several looked in his direction. Each time one did this, another of their friends whispered something in their ear, and then the look was quickly averted. All because his sister was a bitch.
Well, there was one girl in town who didn't avoid him like the plague, but he didn't figure he was going to get anywhere with Miss Rachel Sutton. But damn, was she a fox!
Andrew's thoughts were interrupted as he noticed Joannie walk in, not just with Charlotte, but with two of her other friends as well. He recognized them as Stacy and Candace, but he didn't know them other than that.
He made no immediate move, but kept his eyes on them. The corner in which he sat was dark, and there was enough movement in the room that there was no chance of his sister or her friends seeing him unless they were on this side of the dance floor, which they weren't. They were far too busy flirting, already, with every boy within earshot. He could see his sister rubbing up against several of the boys. Charlotte flirted verbally, but she kept her distance. Andrew found that a little odd: her reputation wasn't much cleaner than his sister's.
After a while, he started his plan. First, he focused on Charlotte, passing her a few commands that he hoped would be properly executed later. He noticed that her conversation lapsed as he worked on her thoughts, so he figured he was getting through. Once that was finished, he figured it was time to put the whole game into play. He spotted one of Joannie's school friends, one who had not come in with her. He made eye contact with this one, and sent a message.
The girl's name was Lara. After having spotted Andrew, she made a beeline for where Joannie was sitting. She had to steer herself around several interested guys, but she made it.
She tapped Joannie on the shoulder. As Joannie looked around, and thus stopped her flirting with yet another boy, she said, "What?" in a rather unfriendly tone. Joannie was not just having a good time: she was also stoned higher than a kite.
"Did you know your brother's here?" Lara asked.
"What? Where is the little shit? I've told him a dozen times he's not allowed to come in here!" When Lara pointed, Joannie got up and started to move toward him. Charlotte stopped her.
"Joannie, let's have a little fun with him. Rather than bitching him out, wouldn't you rather embarrass the shit out of him?"
Joannie grinned evilly. "What did you have in mind, Charli?"
"Let me go ask him to dance. When the song is about halfway through, I'll push myself away from him, slap him in the face, and yell 'You pervert!' He'll never be able to live it down!"
Joannie liked the idea. As Charlotte moved across the floor toward Andrew, however, the idea slipped completely from her mind. As did all the other things that Joannie had ever told her about Andrew. All she knew now was that Andrew was Joannie's brother, and that Joannie had given her permission to dance with him.
Andrew sat calmly as Charlotte approached. As she had walked up, Andrew had fiddled with the DJ's mind, so that the appropriate kind of song would be played next.
"Hey, Andrew," Charlotte said, "I'm Charli. Wanna dance?"
Andrew merely nodded as the current song ended. Girls stared as Charlotte, he still couldn't think of her as "Charli", led him out onto the dance floor. He looked over at Joannie, and saw the vindictive smile on her face. She wouldn't have been a good poker player. Andrew pretended not to see her as the next song started.
Charlotte was a little startled that the song was a slow-dance, but she went with the flow, and put her arms around Andrew's neck. They proceeded to move that way, not saying a word, until Andrew leaned in slightly and said, "Move closer."
Charlotte stepped in slightly, and laid her head on Andrew's shoulder. He glanced back over at his sister, who still had a smug expression on her face, figuring that Charlotte was simply trying to catch him even more off guard. He could also tell there were other girls staring at them, because they "knew" that Andrew was a pervert, and that no girl would ever want to dance with him.
As the song came to an end, Charlotte pulled back and looked him in the eyes. Then she kissed him warmly on the lips. Andrew kissed back, holding her tightly to him. When the kiss broke, she stepped away from him, but grabbed his hand. Without looking at him, or his sister, she said, "Come on."
Joannie would have intercepted them if Andrew hadn't distracted her by ordering one of the guys around her to grope her. By the time she had untangled herself from him - something she obviously didn't really want to do - Charlotte and Andrew were out of sight.
Charlotte had pulled Andrew into the back hallway of Serenade. To the right were the restrooms, but to the left were a series of empty offices. Or what appeared like empty offices. Though they contained a desk, some chairs, and most of them a couch, it was obvious that they had never been used as offices. It was also well known what they were used for by the teens at the club. Even the local police knew about it, but they only ever did something about it when there was a real problem.
Charlotte pulled him along until they reached the very last office. Then she pushed him into the room and closed the door. She started kissing him ferociously as his hands roamed her ass. He enjoyed this immensely, but she soon broke the kiss as she started to unbutton her blouse. Andrew noticed her hands were shaking as she did so.
He grabbed her hands, and looked questioningly into her eyes. His gaze forced her to admit her terrible secret. "I've... never... done it... before, Andrew."
That admission floored Andrew completely. Her reputation was a complete sham. He wondered just what she really thought of him, without anyone's interference.
Andrew looked into her eyes and gave his commands. Then he asked her, "Charlotte, what do you really think of me?"
"Well... you're really cute, but you're kinda too quiet for me. I mean, I like my guys to be the center of attention, the life of the party, that sort of thing. Not that you're not nice and all... I mean, what your sister says about you, I never really did believe it..."
"Then why did you help her spread the rumor?"
"You think I wanted her pissed at me? If that's what she says about her own brother, I don't even want to know what she'd come up with to torture me."
Andrew had to admit that this was a pretty good reason. Charlotte was a nice girl who had the misfortune of picking a bitch for a best friend, and could see no way out of it anymore. Andrew felt sorry for her.
"Okay, here's what's going to happen," Andrew said, as he reached down and, to Charlotte's immense surprise, started buttoning her blouse back up. "We're going to stay in here for a few more minutes, and then we're going to go back out front. When my sister asks you what happened, just smile at her knowingly. I will deal with that bitch personally."
Charlotte nodded as he continued, "Now, I want to know, how did you end up with the reputation you've got? I mean, your rep is almost as bad as my sister's, but hers is obviously well deserved."
"That was Jo's idea, too," Charlotte answered. "She didn't want to be hanging around with 'the only virgin in the high school', as she put it. So she created this myth about my sex life."
"Okay... your choice, then: you may add to that myth by telling everyone in school how great I was, or you can simply tell them that I had you alone, and didn't touch you. Either way, it kills most of what my sister has said about me. I'll let you decide."
"You mean... you're not going to...?"
"Not unless you really want me to, Charlotte. And I don't think you do."
Charlotte let out a small sigh of relief. She kissed Andrew once more, but this time on the cheek. "You're sweet, Andy."
Andrew actually blushed. "I think we've spent enough time here. We can head back out to the crowd. And don't worry about my sister, Charlotte. I'll deal with her."
As he opened the door, Charlotte touched his arm and said, "Please, call me Charli. All my friends do." Then she stepped past him, and went down the hallway.
As he stepped out of the hallway, about to step back into the main room, his sister confronted him in full rage. "How dare you touch one of my friends! You know the-" her sentence was abruptly halted as Andrew grabbed her arm and nearly threw her against the hallway wall. He pinned her in place with one hand, and his eyes bored deep into her.
"You will leave Charli alone from now on. You will not make up any lies about her, you will not harass her or have her harassed. You will pretend that she is a nice person that you simply choose not to associate with anymore. Do you understand me?" The anger in his voice would probably have been enough to get her cooperation, but the tingle on his finger told him that he had the full backing of his magic ring, and those statements were now commands in Joannie's mind. She nodded, almost scared.
"And before you start worrying about my actions, sister dear," he said spitefully, "perhaps you need another lesson in discipline?"
Joannie turned pale. Even through her drug-induced haze, she knew exactly what he meant. She could almost feel the sting of his hand on her ass again. She shook her head quickly, silently repeating "no" over and over.
"Okay. I'll let you off the hook. This time. But this is your last warning. Now leave me alone." Andrew turned his back on her, and walked back into the room. He spotted Charli, and waved to her. She smiled back, and he nodded before walking out of the club.
The next afternoon, Andrew walked from his house out of town. It was a good walk, nearly three miles, but he didn't dare ask his mother to drive him. He stopped at the address printed on the card. The house - if one could call it that - looked to be no more than three or four rooms all lumped together. It was painted in a pale gray, with black trim and shutters. The porch was painted in white, as was the picket fence surrounding the yard.
Surely I'm at the wrong place. Someone's grandmother lives here. He checked the card again, and noted that the address was correct. He shrugged and pushed open the gate. He knocked on the door and stood quietly, waiting for Rachel to come.
But the person who answered the door wasn't Rachel. It looked exactly like someone's grandmother. Ha! I was right! Rachel must have been playing some kind of joke. He wasn't as irritated as he ought to be, he thought.
The old woman spoke. "You must be the young man Rachel spoke of." Her voice was far from the gravelly rasp one expects from a woman who was clearly well into her nineties. She wore gray clothing, the same as the house. It was almost as if she were part of the house.
Andrew remembered his manners and said, "Yes, ma'am. She asked me to come here today. Is she here?"
The woman looked him over, her blue eyes as sharp as a teen's. Then she raised one gnarled hand and pointed to the side of the house.
"Go around that side. Open the gate, and follow the garden path. Please make sure to close the gate behind you. You will find Rachel at the end of the path."
"Thank you, ma'am," replied Andrew as he stepped down off the porch. He moved to the side of the house, where he found a wrought-iron gate hanging on an old, moss-covered stone fence. He stopped for a moment, as if he could feel something different about the place. He looked around, searching for any sign of something unusual, but saw nothing. He opened the gate, which didn't creak, thank God. He was becoming nervous about the mystery of this whole experience. He made sure to shut the gate, and then proceeded down the path. He had not taken ten steps when all the outside noises had disappeared, absorbed by the foliage around him.
As he walked purposefully along the path, he took in the sights and smells of the dense plant-life. Either someone has one hell of a green thumb, or this place has its own magic about it. As he moved, he felt as though he was being watched, but each time he looked around, he spotted nothing.
Finally, after what seemed a very long time, he saw the end of the path. It was a small shed, with a strange symbol on the door. He couldn't figure out what it was, a set of circles, with a line hanging down from the center, crossed by two other lines near its end. These lines were themselves crossed by a line at each of their ends. The symbol meant nothing to him, but he could sense that it contained some kind of power.
Andrew stopped in front of the door, wondering if he should just go in, or knock. Just as he raised his hand to knock, he felt a presence approaching from the side. He turned quickly, to see who it was.
And there stood Rachel. Her lustrous jet-black hair flowing freely about her shoulders; her white skin set off against it. She was dressed in her same black garb from the day before. She motioned to him, and he joined her near a bench. She motioned again, and they both sat down.
She spoke very quietly, almost in a whisper, but she was easily heard in this silent place. "I was told to expect someone this week. Someone who would have a much greater magic than I will ever possess. It is my job to start you along the path you must take, to help you understand the basis for what is to follow."
"Who told you to expect me?" Andrew asked, his voice as hushed as hers.
"The answer to that question... requires more understanding than you presently have," she said simply. "It will take some time for you to learn all that you need to know to use the ring, and your magic, wisely."
"My magic? I have no magic, except the ring."
"Everyone has magic, Andrew. Only a few ever learn to make use of it. It is the one greatest mystery in the world why magic has lost its followers. All of our histories tell us that magic was widely used as recently as the Middle Ages. Yet now, with the onset of technology, no one believes anymore. And belief is the first requirement for use. You must believe you have the magic."
Andrew sat for a moment, stunned. "I... I'm not sure."
"No. You wouldn't be. After all, these are only words, and no one believes words anymore. You need proof: evidence of some kind, something you can see and touch. These things I understand, but more importantly, the magic knows. It wants you to believe in it, and so it will prove itself to you."
Rachel rose silently, and beckoned him to follow. She moved quickly through the garden, not sticking to a path, but there always seemed to be a space for her to move through. Soon they came to a pool of water, what appeared to be a man-made fishpond.
"Peer into the water, and see what you will see."
Andrew concentrated. At first, he saw only his reflection. But soon, the reflection was joined by first a crow, and then a rabbit. The two animals stayed for a few moments, and then moved away, out of the reflection. Then, it changed again. He saw the ring, suspended in space, energy flowing into it. The ring was placed in a box, which was handed to... Andrew, or so it appeared. At that point, the reflection settled, and it was only Andrew staring back at him.
"You have seen something?" she asked.
"Yes, I saw-" Rachel cut him off abruptly.
"Do not tell me. If I were intended to know, I would have seen it with you. Come."
Again she walked through the garden. Andrew was beginning to wonder just how big the garden was, but this time they came to a large well, constructed just as it was done in ancient times, a ring of stones around a deep hole in the ground, covered to keep things out of it.
"Peer into the well."
Once again, Andrew looked. The darkness was soon filled with a strange blue light. He thought he saw a woman, no, a girl in her late teens. The ring was on her hand now. The scene soon changed, and Andrew was now wearing some kind of cloak. He was in the company of three other people, one of whom was the girl, but she was older in this image. He didn't recognize the other two at all. Nor did he understand any of what he saw.
When the image faded back to darkness, Rachel beckoned him on through the garden yet again. When they finally stopped this time, it was again back at the small shed with the strange symbol on the door.
"Now you are ready to go inside." She opened the door and led him into the shed, which turned out merely to be the covering for a stairway down below ground level. The stairs opened out into a large room. Rachel uttered a strange word that Andrew didn't catch, and the room was bathed in a soft light, seemingly coming from everywhere. It was enough to easily see, without being so bright as to hurt the eyes. He had no idea what this was about.
Rachel led him over to a couch, where she motioned him to sit. She moved to a shelf in the room, and drew a massive volume from it. She brought the book back to the couch, and set it on the low table before him. She opened the book, and began to teach.
For hours, Rachel spoke and Andrew listened. She told him about the sources of magic, about the different levels of strength, and about the different magical items he might encounter. Andrew paid close attention, listening intently to her words. He seemed almost drawn into her, as her thoughts poured into his mind.
Finally, she stopped. She closed the book, and carried it back to its place on the shelf. Then she moved back to the couch and sank down on it next to Andrew. She was close enough that he could feel her warmth. He turned slightly on the couch, to face her. As he did, his arm naturally slid up to the back of the couch, resting along the top of the couch behind her head.
"You must return here, once a week. There is much you have to learn yet." She looked at him, and her eyes were warm, welcoming. Her smile, though slight, beckoned him, and he could no longer resist. His hand slid from the back of the sofa down to the back of her head, and he leaned in. He applied no pressure, but her head moved forward to meet him, their lips brushing first gently, then more passionately.
They kissed for some time, and then Andrew grew bolder. His hand slipped along her back, finally reaching her ass. As soon as he touched her there, she broke away, pushing him off her. He worried that he had made a grave error, but her look showed not disdain, just... what?
"Kisses I give you freely. The rest of me only comes when your magic is strong enough to take it from me." And Andrew understood. She wished to motivate him to learn. It was a very strong motivation.
Rachel stood up and said, "You need to go, for it is getting late. But before you do, we need to take care of yesterday's problem." She walked to the shelf again, and pulled down a much smaller book. He walked over to her, and she opened it. The words on the page appeared to be handwritten in a very careful print. She pointed to one set of them.
"This spell will bind the ring to you. Once this spell is cast, unless you take the ring off, it cannot be removed from your body. Unless, that is, you're dead."
A cheery thought. "Okay, so go ahead."
She looked at him for a moment before responding. "I cannot say the spell for you. It binds the object to whoever says the spell. Since I am not wearing the ring, I can't bind it to myself. You must say this spell."
"But... do I know enough to do this?"
"You need only believe that you have the magic. And pronounce the words carefully."
Andrew studied the spell for a few moments, asking Rachel to pronounce a couple of the words for him, so that he would have them correct. Then, he took a deep breath, and began.
"Ebeth rebo eva donfu, ot sith namsilat mai dunobu, Litno ethmit tath evomri, Tilashton et nechatmorem." As soon as Andrew finished uttering the spell, he felt a surge of power flush over his body, and he was certain he saw the ring glowing. After a moment, the surge faded, but he still felt as if he were more alert, more confident, more alive than he had ever been.
Rachel took the book from him and placed it back in its spot. "You need to go now. I will see you in one week. Use the ring. Practice with the ring. Use its magic. This is the only way in which its power in you can grow."
She escorted him up the stairs, and then out of the garden. Before he turned to leave, he leaned in to give her one quick peck on the lips. She took hold of his head, and kissed him hotly. When she broke the kiss, he was out of breath.
"I expect to see you here next week, Andrew," she said, almost as if it were a challenge. Without another moment's hesitation, she moved back down the garden path, toward the shed. He made sure the gate was closed behind him, and then he headed home.
It was well after dinnertime when Andrew got home. This was not unusual, and wasn't mentioned by anyone. He grabbed something out of the fridge to munch on, and went to his room, flopping down on his bed and thinking about what had happened that day. He thought about the visions he had that afternoon, running the images through his mind over and over again. From his previous look into magic, he understood the significance of the crow and the rabbit: they were to be his "spirit guides". Although he had not heard of them being revealed in such fashion before, he knew instinctively that his interpretation was correct. The rest of the imagery, however, confused him greatly. It ran over and over in his mind until he dozed off.
Andrew was yanked back to consciousness by yelling voices. He knew immediately that his father was in the middle of another of his tirades. Since it wasn't Andrew that he was yelling at, it must be his mother. Andrew groaned to himself, not wanting to hear any more of it.
The sound of the slap was what did it. Andrew heard it so clearly and distinctly that he sat bolt upright in bed. His mouth set, and his eyes grew dark with hatred. It was at that very moment that Andrew finally realized that he had in his hands, literally, the power to stop his father.
He bounded up off the bed, and moved purposefully to the door. He flung it open, and it banged against the wall. Andrew didn't even notice as he moved down the hallway, hearing more slaps and hits coming from his parents' bedroom. The door wasn't even fully closed, and Andrew shoved it open just as his father raised his fist to hit his mother again.
"Don't you dare!" bellowed Andrew in a voice that must have rivaled God's own. Andrew's father, Jayce, turned to face him fully, fist still raised. Andrew did notice that his father had, indeed, stopped beating his mother now. Now, he wanted to beat on Andrew.
"You little fuck! How dare you invade our privacy! I'm going to teach you to mind your own-"
The man's sentence was cut off as Andrew fairly flew across the ten feet separating them. Andrew's silent command had told his father not to move, and he didn't. Andrew's feet propelled him like lightning as his fist hauled back. At just the right moment, he unleashed his arm, and his hand thrust forward, making a solid connection with his father's jaw. His legs were fully behind the thrust, and his entire bodyweight pushed the fist through the target zone.
Andrew's father went flying.
He landed, in a heap, on the floor almost a full body-length from where he'd been standing. He'd broken a chair in his fall, and he was lying, severely stunned, on the floor looking up at his only son, whom he thought he knew. The person that stood before him was a container of barely controlled rage, ready to boil over at the slightest provocation. Jayce slowly got to his feet, but made no move toward his son.
"I have had all of your shit I'm going to take," Andrew growled, seething with fury. "This crap ends tonight. Get out of here. Go sleep in your daughter's room, why don't you? You're so goddamned fond of her. And because I know I can't trust you, I'm not leaving this room for the rest of the night."
Andrew's boldness, and his right cross, just might have been enough to convince his father to cooperate anyway, but the power of the ring guaranteed that he had no real choice in the matter. He walked meekly out of the room and down the hall, slipping silently into Joannie's bedroom, and closing the door. His sister had not awakened at the yelling; they had both become accustomed to this particular noise.
Once his father had definitely gone, Andrew's legs grew very shaky. He had to sit down before he collapsed. He managed to make it to the edge of the bed, and sat down on its edge.
Andrew's mother, Amber, got up from her position on the floor, and went to close the bedroom door. Andrew's eyes didn't follow her, even though she was wearing only satin panties and a short T-shirt. She soon returned to his side, sitting beside him on the bed and wrapping an arm around his shoulder.
"Andy, are you okay?" She began to really worry when he didn't answer her right away. "Andrew!" she repeated, much concern in her voice.
Andrew turned to look at her. What he saw, at first, was not his mother. He saw a yellowing bruise under her eye, a split lip, a tear-stained face, and a blood trail from a small cut on her cheek. His blood would have boiled again, if he hadn't been so weak from the lack of adrenaline in his system. He had known, when he entered the room, that he had to confront his father. He had never expected that he would physically assault him.
His mother read the expression on his face, and knew what he was thinking. "I'm okay, Andy. Really." As his anger wore off, and her words and soothing voice penetrated his consciousness, Andrew once again saw his beautiful mother, concern etched in her face, her lips turned in a tight frown. He turned to her and embraced her. She laid her head on his shoulder, and they both cried for a long time, letting their emotions play out until they were both drained and exhausted.
Finally, Amber spoke up. "We should probably get to bed, baby. It's pretty late."
Andrew looked skeptically at the double bed. When he had sworn to stay in this room the rest of the night, the thought of actually sleeping hadn't much occurred to him. His mother saw the look.
"I know it's been a while, Andy, but you and I used to sleep together, back when your father traveled a lot."
Andrew hadn't regained his voice yet, and so he just shrugged his acceptance of the thought. While his mother went to the bathroom to clean herself up a bit, he removed his pants and shirt, which he had fallen asleep in back in his own room, and crawled beneath the covers. He had nearly fallen asleep when he heard his mother finish up in the bathroom. She turned off the bathroom light, and then the lamp that illuminated the bedroom. It was almost totally dark, and Andrew only heard his mother walk around the bed. He was lying on his back as the covers raised, and his mother slipped into bed beside him.
Andrew closed his eyes, expecting his mother to turn her back to him and fall asleep. This was how he had seen her sleeping every time he had ever come in to wake her up. His eyes flew open as he felt her move closer to him. She kissed him gently, warmly, on the cheek, and laid her head down on the pillow next to him. Her arm slid softly across his chest, and she snuggled as close as she could get to him. From some kind of instinct, his arm moved out from between them, and curled around her body, resting along her back. She nuzzled even further into his body. That's when he realized she was no longer wearing her T-shirt.
His mother's bare chest was pressing against his body, and with her arm draped over him as it was, He could even feel the points of her nipples digging wonderfully into his skin. Andrew was hard in an instant, not caring that it was his mother who had him this aroused.
She mumbled to him, "Thank you very much, Andy." Then she faded off to sleep.
It was a difficult thing for Andrew to sleep now, holding his beautiful mother in his arms, her tits pressing into his side, her arm resting on his chest, her leg crossing his slightly. It took him over a half-hour to calm himself enough from just that experience to fade off to sleep.
Once Andrew did manage to get to sleep, his dreams were extremely troubled. He was confronted with one monster after another, which he managed to run away from, kill, or otherwise avoid in each of his dreams. In the last dream, however, he was doing very pleasant things with one Rachel Sutton. He could almost feel her hands on his body...
Andrew awoke to find that he hadn't been imagining the sensations, but it wasn't Rachel's hand that was caressing him now. It was his mother. Her hands had already freed his cock, and she was now massaging his dick to full hardness. Her beautiful eyes looked into his, and she kissed him longingly. Her tongue pressed past his lips to slide across his own tongue, and then to caress the inside of his mouth. Meanwhile, her hand continued to gently manipulate his cock, until he was as stiff as an iron rod, and as big as he could ever remember being. His mother looked at his dick with a mixture of surprise and lust.
Andrew was very confused. Had he used the ring on his mother without knowing it? He didn't think so, but her present actions didn't seem very much like the mother he thought he knew. His thoughts were derailed as she placed the head of his dick at the entrance to her pussy, and pushed downward. His cock slid slowly into her tight, warm depths.
Amber moved slowly, raising herself back off her son's dick, and then letting her body slide back down, each time impaling herself further on his wonderful dick. She moaned as he finally filled her completely, her pussy lips resting in his curly pubic hair.
Leaning over, she cupped one of her tits and presented it to Andrew's mouth. He opened his lips and sucked the nipple in, swirling his tongue around the hard nub. Amber groaned and began to slide up and down his shaft slowly. Andrew's other hand found her free tit, and began to gently massage the flesh, rolling it between his fingers, and tweaking the nipple as his hand passed over it.
Amber rode her son's cock for several minutes, keeping the pace slow, and paying attention to how close he was to coming. She wanted this to last, and so any time he appeared to be getting too excited, she would slow down until he calmed, and then she would continue. For his part, Andrew favored her breasts with unending attention, switching back and forth between them, exploring every inch of them with his tongue. His one free hand moved down to cup his mother's ass as she rode him, squeezing the soft globes of her ass cheeks.
The pleasure of the experience was beginning to be more than Amber could take, and she started to ride him harder, bucking up and down his shaft and grunting with each thrust. Andrew pushed up into her in sync with her movements, pounding deeply into her cunt. Suddenly, her back arched, her eyes shut, and she uttered a deep, throaty wail of ecstasy. Meanwhile, her pussy muscles rippled along Andrew's shaft, sending wave after wave of pleasure through him. He could hold out no longer, and his cum shot into his mother, sending her even higher in her orgasm. They clutched each other throughout the experience, until at last his mother finally calmed down, and laid herself down on his chest, keeping his dick firmly clamped inside her cunt.
Andrew instinctively wrapped his arms around his mother, but he was very confused at what had just occurred. He had certainly enjoyed the experience, but was worried about what he had done to his mother. She looked up at him, staring at her, and she kissed him warmly once again. Even after such an experience, the kiss stirred something in his groin.
"Thank you, Andy. Your father hasn't had sex with me in months. I know, I must have surprised you, but I just couldn't help myself. You're so sweet to me, and we've both been through hell. I can't tell you what last night meant to me, for you to take on your father like that. I love you, Andy." She kissed him again, with just as much passion.
When she broke the kiss, he said, "I love you too, Mom." They both noticed that Andrew had grown semi-stiff from her kisses.
"Mmm," his mother said quietly, and pulsed her cunt around his shaft. "I want another shot at this."
It was very late by the time Andrew and his mother actually got out of bed. Andrew put his clothes back on, but Amber merely threw on a robe, with nothing under it. They'd had sex one more time, and then they had both needed a nap. By the time they awoke, they were both hungry.
As they passed down the hallway, they had to stop at Joannie's room. There, sitting across from each other, were his sister and father, not saying a word, but both looking miserable.
"What's the matter, you two?" Andrew said viciously. "Don't you like being treated like shit?"
"Fuck you, Andrew!" his sister shot back. Andrew thought she needed another lesson.
"Dad, you need to slap her for talking like that. You would me."
Without a word, Jayce got up, crossed the room, and open-hand slapped Joannie. Joannie screamed in pain, and backed away from her father, who had never once disciplined her for anything.
"Daddy, what the fuck-" He reached across and slapped her again, harder. She was stunned into complete silence.
Andrew watched with satisfaction. He could feel his mother pressing against his arm, and looked to see a grim smile of gratification on her face. He turned back to the two in the room. Then an evil and vicious thought came to him, and he couldn't help but act on it.
"You know, Dad," Andrew said sarcastically, "You've been fucking Mom and I over for years. I think it's time that Jo got hers." His father stared at him in some horror, understanding the underlying meaning of the words. Andrew nodded at him. "That's right. I want you to fuck the little bitch until she screams in orgasm at least three times. And don't be gentle. As a matter of fact, that last orgasm had better come from you fucking her up her ass."
Jayce had been moving toward his daughter, but that last sentence stopped him cold. He turned to look at his son in dismay. "But... but Andrew, you can't possibly want me to do that to your sister!"
"Why the fuck not? She's been shitting on me for years. Well, now she'll have a little easier time shitting for a while. Get to work." Andrew's voice was hard as iron, and brooked no argument. The ring saw to that.
Jayce advanced on his daughter and mumbled, "I'm sorry, baby." His hands reached out and ripped her blouse open, exposing her unfettered tits. Jayce mauled them and pinched the nipples, causing Joannie to scream out. Then he took one hand and undid her jeans, slipping his fingers into the waistband of her panties and roughly groping her twat until he felt some moisture. Then he ripped her pants and panties down her legs and yanked them off, causing her legs to splay apart. He pulled her to him, and then undid his own pants. He pulled his dick out, and Andrew got his first look at his father's dick.
Jayce's cock was barely six inches long, and was pretty thin. Andrew wondered just where his own nine-inch monster had come from, if that's what his father looked like.
Joannie wept as Jayce pushed his dick into her semi-lubed pussy, and began pumping furiously. He continued to maul her tits and pinch her nipples, trying to get her excited enough to come.
By this time, Amber had begun to have an itch between her own legs again. She ran her hand down between Andrew's legs, and fondled his dick through his jeans. Her tongue circled his earlobe as she massaged his member, and soon she could feel him hardening.
"No need to watch these two go at it, baby," she cooed into his ear. "Come fuck my brains out in the shower."
She had hold of his dick as she moved toward the bathroom, and so it was wise for Andrew to follow her. She didn't let go of him until she had the shower running and at the right temperature. Then she turned to face him. As she did so, her robe fell from her frame, and she was completely nude again. With her standing before him, Andrew got his first really good look at his mother's magnificent body. Though the marks of old beatings were still evident, he hardly noticed them as he took in her beauty. What little softness remained in his cock disappeared almost instantly.
Amber nearly tore his clothes pulling them off him, and she ended up kneeling before him as she pulled off his briefs. She licked her lips hungrily at the sight of his pole throbbing before her eyes. She couldn't help herself as she sucked it into her mouth and began to blow her own son.
As Amber's lips and tongue danced across the flesh of Andrew's dick, his eyes rolled up into his head, and his hands flew to the back of her head to encourage her not to stop. Not that she had any intention of doing so; her sucking increased to a feverish pace as she managed to get almost half of him in her mouth.
Andrew had never been blown before, and the experience was so incredible that he came very quickly, blasting the back of his mother's mouth with his seed. She slurped and swallowed every last drop, and continued to suck until he was fully hard again, which didn't take much, since he had not softened very much.
Amber rose to her feet and dragged her son into the shower, sliding the glass door shut, and then pinning him to the wall with her body. Andrew felt her tits pressed into his chest, her leg nestled between his, rubbing against his dick. He could also feel her kisses along his neck. She paused long enough to give him direction.
"Fuck me, you hung bastard!" she cried. "I want your dick inside me!"
Andrew thought his mother was crazed, but at that particular moment, it did not matter. He grabbed hold of her and spun her around, so that her back was pressed against the shower wall. She threw her arms around his neck as he pressed his cockhead against her pussy opening and forced his way in. Though she was already dripping wet, her cunt was tight, and the going was not easy with his large shaft. She was wriggling in his arms long before he ever made it even halfway into her hole. His mother's movement, and the hot water pouring down over their bodies, and the sheer nastiness of the event, drove Andrew wild with lust.
He grabbed his mother's ass with both hands, and lifted her completely off the floor. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he pushed her down onto his cock, using his arms when gravity wasn't moving fast enough. His mother squealed with the sensation of being filled up with his manhood.
Andrew's lips plastered against hers, and their tongues dueled as he began to fuck her. His thrusts were wild and animalistic. They grunted into each other's mouths as they rutted together. There was no chance of them slowing down, let alone pausing in their frenzied fuck. They were hot, wet, and excited, and they wanted each other. They moved together for minutes, giving each other enormous pleasure. Amber's pussy clung to Andrew's huge member, and they both felt the delight of the sensations. Amber had two small orgasms, but her son didn't even slack off for these. He continued pounding into her, and she continued grunting in encouragement.
Finally, they both felt the swell of their climaxes approaching. Andrew was the first to go, his spunk splashing into his mother's pussy. The feeling sent her over the edge, and she writhed in his arms, screaming, "Oh, God, YES! Oh fuck me, Andrew!"
As they both settled down from their orgasms, Andrew lowered his mother so she could stand on the floor. They kissed lovingly in the shower, and then, with what hot water was left, they washed each other off. By the time they emerged from the shower, they both were cleaner than they had probably ever been, so much attention had each paid to the other's body.
Andrew was, by now, famished, and he wanted something to eat. As they stepped out of the bathroom, they could still hear the sounds of fucking coming from Joannie's bedroom. Andrew steered his mother safely down the hall toward the kitchen. If he let her see what was going on in there, he feared he'd die of starvation before she was through with him. But what a way to go! he thought to himself merrily.
Their breakfast went quickly, but silently. Both of them were lost in their own worlds. Andrew kept wondering just how his mother had changed. He still didn't believe that he'd done anything to her, because he could never remember really having formulated any clear thought about her. There was only the vague sense of arousal he'd had the previous night before falling asleep. Certainly he'd never thought to turn her into a sex-crazed nymphomaniac.
When they finished their meal, they both headed back to Joannie's room. The sounds of sex were still coming hot and heavy from the room. When they stepped in the doorway, they saw Jayce just beginning to shove his dick into Jo's ass, and she was grunting and screaming with the pain, and the arousal, of it all.
For the next half hour, Andrew watched his father buttfuck his sister. His mother watched for a few minutes, but then her arousal got the better of her. She knelt down and unzipped Andrew's fly. Before he could even ask her what she was doing, she had engulfed his prick with her mouth, sliding her sensuous lips over his quickly stiffening manhood.
With his mother's mouth on his cock, and his sister's torment in his eyes, he came twice before his sister finally screamed out her third, and final, orgasm. She collapsed onto the bed, completely exhausted. Jayce's dick slipped out of her ass, and he looked over at his son. He saw how his wife was leaning against him, he knew what had been going on. But he was powerless to do anything about it.
"I think that from now on, you will sleep in here, Dad. You can sleep in Joannie's bed. Whether you make her sleep on the floor, or if you let her sleep in bed with you, I don't care. But both of you will sleep in this room, and you have to sleep in the bed." His father understood what his son was doing, and he finally realized that his son now had the power that Jayce had wielded for many years. He didn't understand how Andrew had taken over, but he knew that he had. He nodded his understanding and resigned acceptance of the situation.
"Good. You will leave this room only to go to work, and to go to the bathroom. Anything else you need, you will have Joannie get for you. You are never to enter mom's bedroom, or mine, ever again, under any circumstances. Is that understood?" Again, his father meekly nodded.
"Very well. Also, this door is to be shut whenever you're in here. I don't want to have to look at your ugly fucking face anymore." With that, he slammed the door shut. His mother led him back to her - now their - bedroom, and they spent the entire day snuggling, talking, and fucking like bunnies.
Read 156276 times | Rated 95.7 (1289 votes)
Vote list (Close) :
Mattkerp : POSITIVE
pervy pete : POSITIVE
thenavigator : POSITIVE
fusionrunner : POSITIVE
El Cid : POSITIVE
Stilgar : POSITIVE
Drakanas : POSITIVE
WhiteHat : NEGATIVE
HSLover : POSITIVE
andreas2 : POSITIVE
jturks85 : POSITIVE
M`ster123 : POSITIVE
MudDawg8 : POSITIVE
Frost_Wolf1001 : NEGATIVE
Yurij : POSITIVE
SexUwell Poet : POSITIVE
darkstargoddess : POSITIVE
CantHelpMyself : POSITIVE
mirrorshades : POSITIVE
456123 : POSITIVE
dekker : POSITIVE
Unknow : POSITIVE
ChaoticDreamer : POSITIVE
joethekid18 : POSITIVE
Ekracci Viro : POSITIVE
Please rate this text: