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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Substitute Hitter"  And then, before you say anything more to her, Autumn grips you by the shoulders and pushes you backward onto the conference table. You resist at first, uncomprehending, until you see the look in her eyes. And then you yield. Prone on your back, you watch with boggling eyes as Autumn Mattera clambers onto you, standing on her knees as she straddles your hips. She is slim and small and brown, and as she turns her head to give you a sultry, sidelong look, her dark hair swings over the side of her face like a curtain. She arches her back as she pulls her t-shirt off over her head and casts it aside, thrusting her small breasts at you. She slips her bra back to front, unclasps it, and tosses it aside too. Then she falls onto you, catching herself on your shoulders, and lowering her face to just above yours. Her hair falls forward, tickling your ears and the side of your face. "I'll tell you this much, Will," she murmurs, and her soft breath washes over your nose and mouth. "Doesn't matter who you are or who I am. I am going to fuck you senseless every chance I get." Then she is kissing you, like a tiger snatching a small rabbit into its jaws. * * * * * Your pants come down—and off; and you kick your shoes off for good measure—and so do her shorts and panties, and she strokes your cock to raging attention with the soft tangle of her bush. Balancing herself above you with one hand on your shoulder, with her other hand she guides you into her, and slowly, a centimeter at a time, lowers herself onto you. Your paralyzed hands finally come to life, and you raise them to grip and support her by her sides as she sinks onto you. She whimpers and groans as you enter, for she is very tight, and she makes little mewling cries. She sniffles, and with her free hand she wipes at her eyes. You stare, unblinking at her, as though you would eat her up with your gaze; but the rest of your attention is below, on the swell and the strain as you penetrate her. I'm going to pop her from below, comes a crazy thought. I'm going to push all the way in, and something is going to pop, and I'm going to blow— Oh my God I'm going to blow a load into her! And then you clench your eyes shut and your own back arches and spasms and you are pushing deeper and harder into her, and she is puffing and squeaking in a way that would sound very silly, like a squeeze toy, but your boner is like a shaft of crystalized lightning, and then it is abruptly a volcano and you are the earth moving beneath her. You pass out, just a little bit, for a moment. Autumn balances on you with both hands again, her hair hanging in front of her face. She cries, and moans, and thrusts herself harder onto you— And then she throws her head back and straightens up as she is wracked by spasms. You grimace as your cock bends just a little too far in an uncomfortable direction. "Oh, God, Will!" she cries. "A two-fer! A fucking two-fer!" "Huh?" You wince at the sound of your own baffled grunt. She falls onto you again. She fights to catch her breath. "Autumn and me both," she gasps. "You— You took us both! At the same time!" I guess that makes it one for the history books, comes the stunned thought to you. She balances on you for a long time, and you help hold her there, until your bodies both slowly relax. When she clambers off, she looks down at herself, then with a gasp covers her bush with one hand and scampers through the mess of the basement into a corner. You raise up on an elbow and watch, dumbfounded. "Is something wrong?" you call when you've found your voice again, and anxiety grips you. You have a sudden and horrible vision of Autumn's illusory body ripping away, torn apart by the act of coitus. When she doesn't answer, you swing upright and onto your feet. You're a mess down below, you discover, and wipe helplessly at yourself with bare hands and smear it on the side of a cabinet. Autumn is in a corner, her back and buttocks to you, working away at herself. "Sydney," you cautiously call. She doesn't answer. "Um— Tell me it's alright." "It's fine, Will," she says without looking back. "It's wonderful, actually." "What is?" She swings around, a lunatic grin on her face, and holds out her hand. "This!" She's holding a filthy cloth. The hackles on your back and neck ripple as she advances, and you try to dodge as she pushes it at your face. "What the—?" "Don't worry about it, Will," she says. "It won't last long. It shouldn't, but we should watch to make sure. But this, Will, it's our sign and our seal!" She pushes the rag up under your nose. You flinch. "Autumn Mattera's blood!" * * * * * The fact that the foul mess vanishes from the rag within a few minutes doesn't really make you feel any better. You try chalking Sydney's behavior up to some kind of post-coital fit, but you can't deny to yourself that it creeps you out. She gets affectionate with you, and you do hold her and kiss her. But when she gets a text and regretfully declares that she's got to go, you are not exactly broken up about it. She seems to have picked up on your mood, for she calls you later that night, to ask how you're doing. You tell her that you're fine, but she presses, saying that you seemed "kind of freaked out" afterward. "Well, yeah, I was," you mumble after an awkward silence, during which you gathered your thoughts for a plausible excuse. "I mean, uh, you were talking about your, um, 'double orgasm' and losing your— And Autumn's— Um—" "Yeah?" she says. "Well, you know, it was the same for me, basically. Except not a double case." "Really?" she says, though she doesn't sound too surprised. "Well, I had kind of a blow job once, but I was— I didn't ... finish. We got interrupted, and I was, uh— Freaked out." "So you got freaked out again, today?" "Well, no," you hasten to add. "I mean, not while— While we were, that was great! That was amazing!" You suck on your lip. "Can't wait to do it again!" "We'll be doing it lots, Will." Great, you think a lack of enthusiasm that disappoints you. You gonna show me the blood every time afterward? Aloud, you say, "But afterwards, yeah, when I realized what it meant. What happened. What we ... did. Yeah, I got kind of freaked out." "It was the blood, wasn't it?" she says, levelly. You give up. You can't convincingly deny that it was. "Yeah," you sigh. "That was ... weird." "That kind of thing happens, Will," she says. "I mean, not every time a girl— But the first time—" "No, I understand—" "I shouldn't have showed it to you." "It was a little weird." Sydney groans into the subsequent silence. "I'm sorry, Will," she says. "But I was just so excited. What it meant! For me and Autumn, both!" "Uh huh?" You grit your teeth against whatever is going to come next. "For me it was— No, I'll start with Autumn. For her it was, I'm a woman now! I'm not a girl, I'm a woman! And I— She— She had to share it with the man who had taken her over that threshold! It was almost— I was so swept up with her, because it was so exciting, because it was almost like a baby to her. You know, Will, I think the real Autumn would have kept it, as a memento? Would have had that rag, or Kleenex, or whatever, she would have had it bronzed or lacquered, and have kept it as a keepsake?" "Oh my God." "I'm not going to be grossed out by it, Will," she tells you firmly. "Because I'm looking down at myself right now, and it's her body, and I am her, and— And we're so close right now, inside the same skull, being the same person— I can't be grossed out." "Okay. I'm not asking you to be—" "So I got swept up in it. That's all, Will." Then her voice gets very small: "My guy isn't going to be upset because I got so excited, is he? Because his cum and my blood got all mixed up?" "Oh God." You wipe your eyes. The image is both foul and arousing. "Cum and blood," she mewls. "The two essences. Mixed." "Right." "Oh Jesus!" she exclaims, in the manner of one who has bolted upright. "What's wrong?" you ask. "Sydney?" you press when she doesn't answer. "Oh, I'm fine," she says. "I just had a thought. Um— Have you thought any more about who you, with the new mask—?" "No, you kind of distracted me." "Okay, well, think about it tonight, let me know. The sooner the better, probably, but I don't want to put any pressure on you." You hang up shortly afterward. So you do give it some more thought, but there's not much more to consider than you already have. (Also, you keep thinking of the afternoon's events.) Sydney says that Nathan Elliot is almost inevitable as one of the "Brothers," so you might as well just exit your present life by entering his. But what if there's a problem there that Sydney hasn't seen? You could get a sense of Nathan as a likely "convert" by turning yourself (briefly: the mask would ultimately go to Sydney, of course) into his girlfriend, Jenna Burr. But Nathan is "inevitable" only because Sydney says that Jenna is. Perhaps you should start off in the guise of some other girl, and scope out Jenna and Nathan both before you make any final determinations. Whatever decision you make, you won't be able to act on it before tomorrow, which is Monday, meaning you have one more day of horror at Westside as yourself. So you lunge at a decision before going to bed, and inform Sydney that you want to start with: Next: Coming soon! Check back! |
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