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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Vengeance on an Ex-Friend"  "Caleb's mom?" you exclaim, and feel yourself blanch. "Are you serious?" "Sure," Sydney says. "Why not?" Her grin deepens. "It would really fuck with him, right?" You rake your hands through your hair. "And you know, we'd get something out of it for ourselves, too. You say she hasn't got money, but she's got to have some, and we could use it. But also, it would give us a base. Almost like a secret headquarters." Sydney taps her grin with a fingernail. "It's just her and her kid, right?" she says. "So it'd give us a house so we don't have to hide out here anymore. And where we could have our ceremonies and meetings for when we get the Brotherhood up and running." Yeah, you see the advantages, even with only the partial picture she's giving you. But mostly you're thinking of the first thing she said. It would really fuck with him. A hot, sour, and hateful joy wells up in your guts. You grin at Sydney. "Yeah," you say. "Let's do it." * * * * * But you're not going to doing it tonight, for you do not in fact have everything you need. If Sydney is going to replace Caleb's mom, she will need to make a mask of herself to place on Mrs. Johansson, and for that you need to make one of those metal strips that copy minds and personalities. You'll need one for yourself, too, for when it comes time for you to switch with Caleb. So you and Sydney spend the balance of a late evening making two of those strips, which you glue into the two polished masks you have on hand. You wake early the next morning—when it's still dark, even—but lay in bed drowsing and nursing wood and finally jerking yourself awake by jerking off into your special sock. It's Caleb's mom you jerk off to, but it also isn't her. It's Sydney, but with Mrs. Johansson's face. Your dad is unpleasantly pleased to see you up and about so early when you come downstairs, and rewards you by giving you chores. You've nothing else to do for the moment, and it will be for the last time, so you don't even give him a dirty look. You do have to text Sydney, though, saying that you'll be busy until about noon. She replies with a grinning emoji and the brag that that'll give her time to get to Caleb's mom. Something about that idea bothers you, though, so you call her directly, even as you continue to spray-clean the outside windows with a hose. "Yeah, so what's your plan for seeing Caleb's mom?" you ask over the hissing spray of the hose. You're catching a lot of back-spray, too, and are mildly drenched. "How are you gonna get Caleb out of the house?" "Well," she says, as though you've caught her off guard. "I'll try to go over when he's not there." "Fucker's always home, near as I can tell," you reply. "Then I'll call him," she says, "make a date to meet him someplace. While he's out looking for me, I'll sneak in to catch his mom." You catch yoursel cocking a skeptical eyebrow. But when you tell her that won't work, and she challenges you to come up with another idea, you have to admit that you can't think of an alternative. "Look, just wait for me to get done here," you tell her. "Then you can call Caleb, see if he'll go out to meet you someplace. What are you going to tell him you want to talk about?" you add with ill-disguised suspicion. "I'll tell him I want to talk about us," she breezily replies. "About you and me and him and how I want us all to be friends." "Not sure he'll go for it." "Well, what do you want me to say? That I'm breaking up with you because I've decided I want to go out with him?" Your guts lurch, and you rapidly backpedal to tell her that her first idea was a better one. "I thought so, sweetie," she says. "You'll see. He'll want to come talk to me, and he'll wind up sitting alone in a coffee shop for hours waiting for me to show up. Call me when you're done!" She hangs up. You're left staring at your phone. He'll sit for hours in a coffee shop waiting for her, she said. It sounds like it's the kind of thing she's done to a guy before. You swallow and shrug. Well, you admit to yourself as you turn the hose onto the last window looking onto the back yard, I'd probably wait half a day or more for Sydney to show up someplace too, if she said she was going to meet me there. * * * * * Your dad is so pleased with your work (and with your attitude) that sends you out to pick up lunch for everyone, and as a consequence it's after one o'clock before you're able to text Sydney that you're free. But by then you've had a chance to do a little more thinking, and so you have to warn her that Caleb's mom works on Saturdays, and that she won't be home until after five. She says that's fine, that she'll just wait until then to text Caleb. She then asks you to meet her out at the old school basement. "Mm. Will?" Sydney asks you between light, quick smooches on the lips. "Are you still? Going to still love me? When I'm an old? Woman?" She gives you time to think by opening her lips and nibbling at yours. You are standing in the middle of the basement with your arms lightly clasped around each other's torsos. You are rock hard too, with your cock wedged up firmly against her. She doesn't appear to mind. "That's gonna be, like, fifty years off," you murmur hoarsely when she releases your lips. She giggles. "It's gonna be this afternoon, sweetie." It takes you a moment for the penny to drop. "Caleb's mom isn't old." "Well, how old is she?" "I dunno. Forty-five?" "And you don't think that's old?" "Well, she doesn't look old." "But she looks forty-five?" Sydney giggles again. "I don't know! She—" But Sydney interrupts you with another kiss. Then, when she withdraws: "But you're gonna love me when I'm forty-five. When I look forty-five. Right?" Her breath comes in quick gasps, and her grip on you tightens. "You're gonna make love to me, you're going to fuck me, right?" Her breath seems to catch. "You're gonna fuck me when I'm Caleb's mom, aren't you?" My God! you think, your mind reeling. What is with this girl? At the same time, you harden further, and even begin to slowly throb. "Oh yeah," you growl. "I'm gonna fuck you when you're Caleb's mom." "Good." Sydney slips her head over, to rub your cheek with hers as she pulls you more tightly to you. "She's going to be hungry for you, Will. Caleb's mom is going to be so horny for you!" You almost cum right there and then. * * * * * You waste away the afternoon this way, and copy yourselves into the masks. Along about five-thirty, when you're sure that Mrs. Johanson will be home, Sydney texts Caleb, asking him to meet her. It turns out he's off with Carson and James doing something, but he agrees to meet up with her at Cafe Oro—an expensive tea and coffee room on the other side of town—to talk. Text me when you're on your way there, she tells him. You and she drive out separately to his neighborhood, and so are able to swoop down onto his house not five minutes after he texts to say that he's heading for the meet up. Your knock at the door is answered by Mrs. Johansson. "Oh, hello, Will," she says while making no move to admit you and Sydney, who is standing behind you. "If you're looking for Caleb, you just missed him." "Yeah, I just texted him," you improvise. "He asked me to stop by here, pick up something he forgot. Can I come in?" Her eyes widen slightly, then with a faint smile she stands aside to admit you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Sydney shift the blank mask in her hand. And so, the moment the door is shut, you wheel and grab Caleb's mom from behind. Sydney instantly springs forward, and then Mrs. Johansson is sagging in your arms, almost dragging you to the floor. "Come on," you grunt, "let's pull her back in the bedroom." You heft the unconscious woman up, supporting her under the armpits, and drag her out of the tiny foyer and into the living room/dining room that takes up most of the house. Then, with her bare feet dragging on the carpet, you haul her down the short hallway to the bedroom at the end. "Hey," you pant after you've hurled Mrs. Johansson onto the bed, "now that I think about it, maybe you better move our cars down a block or so, in case Caleb comes back." "If Caleb comes back," she retorts, "there's gonna be a lot worse going on than him finding our cars." "Well, maybe you better move my truck, anyway." You toss your keys to her, and with a skeptical look she leaves. That leaves you alone with Caleb's unconscious mother. You really are a bad judge of age, but now that you give her a really direct look you doubt she's much over forty, though maybe she looks older because she's led a hard and tiring life. She has reddish-brown hair that falls in loose curls to the top of her shoulders, and a narrow face with a narrow nose. She's not unhandsome, but you can see the family resemblance she shares with her son, especially in the mouth and eyes: there is something faintly fishlike about them, a fleshy bulge. The corners of her mouth are lined, and there are crows feet near her eyes. But she looks more tired than old. And that's going to be Sydney. Or is it? A sudden thought hits you: If you wanted to make Caleb miserable, how better than by being his mom? Next: Coming soon! Check back! |
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