Black Opal Magic

I felt him behind me, his fingers darted into my vagina, and it seemed he was pulling out more of my lubrication to my opening, coaxing my body to open more.

Then I felt the other cock pushing at my vagina. The mammoth head of his upper penis, pressed against my flesh, hitting my pelvic bone.

I gasped. I was sure now, this penis was even larger around than Simpson's. I was sure I would never be able to accommodate him. Anxiety welled up, tears sprang to my eyes, even though I wasn't in any kind of pain. I was afraid, deathly afraid, of failing him.

The pendant and the bracelets pulsed again, the warm vibration that suddenly felt like reassurance.

I braced myself, breathed out fully, and felt the head of his cock pass into me.

I felt Lucas's body behind me, his lower penis brushing and occasionally bobbing up against my vulva as he worked his upper penis into me. He had a hand on my back, stroking and massaging near my tailbone, while the fingers of his other hand eased my labia and coaxed me ever more open for him.

I buried my face in the pillow, on the verge of sobbing. My body was stretching and straining, and there were sharp jolts of pain and no one or nothing was taking over to make my body reform. I held myself there, shaking as this massive thing invaded me. I had some sort of sacred duty to complete, and somehow this was part of it.

I don't know how long it took. Probably far less time that it seemed. But eventually Lucas stopped moving.

My body was on fire from my rib cage down. I'd lost feeling in one of my legs, and the other was ice cold. My tears had soaked the pillow, and my breathing was shallow and rapid.

Pleasure was a thing of the distant past. An abstract concept someone had once tried to explain to me. All I had now was a clutching in my guts and a pounding heart.

Lucas leaned down. He whispered in my ear, "You are well. You are perfect. You are ours."

I shook my head violently. I didn't know how to reply.

"Shhh, darling," he said. "Wait."

Panic welled up inside me, I had a clear vision of my body splitting clean in two, each half falling and then shattering into shards.

Lucas wrapped both of his arms around my waist and pulled me up, settling the weight of me onto his thighs, and forcing himself into me one last half inch.

It was too much. I clawed at him and screamed. I tried to thrash, but his grip held me still and close. I threw my head back onto his shoulder, scratched at my own face as tears streamed down again.

He hummed in my ear.

I froze.

His right hand slid down my body. He placed three fingers on the front of my vulva. Then reached with his middle finger and touched my clit.

I convulsed. The orgasm that had been building returned, instantly, and ten fold stronger. Every cell in my body screamed in pleasure. I gasped. The air left my lungs as every muscle spasmed in its own rhythm. Fluid gushed from me, soaking our legs and the sofa. The orgasm kept going, not one quick tremblor, but a series of rolling earthquakes with no end.

I felt the heat radiating off my body, scorching me, burning Lucas, competing with the highest flames from the fire, or the sun.

And still the orgasms surged through me. Legion, a multitude, as though this singular involuntary physical response had become an army fighting itself in my body.

For a moment, I thought I might actually die of pleasure. For a moment, I thought that's what the whole journey had been about. To bring me to this point, kill my body with ecstasy, and allow the queen in the opal to take me over.

Then Lucas lifted his finger from my clit, and the passion faded. The orgasms slowed, softened, and finally stopped. I lay back against him, completely spent, utterly incapable of thought or movement. He picked me up, and his cock slid out of me.

The emptiness was vast, a canyon inside me, a chasm. I started crying again.

I heard him chuckle as he laid me down on my side. He slid off the sofa to kneel on the carped in front of me.

He stroked my hair, and whispered sweet nothings, and I slept.

**~~** 9 **~~**

The next morning, I awoke on the sofa, with a thick quilt draped over me.

I rose in a daze, expecting to be stiff and sore. But I moved with ease and without pain. I heard noise from the back of the house, and walked out into the hallway. A light was on in a room at the end, and I went toward it.

The room was the kitchen, and Lucas was standing at the stove, cooking. He hand on a long plush robe, loosely belted at his hips.

He turned to me and smiled.

"Ah. You're awake. Good morning."

"Good morning." I felt a little shy, suddenly, unsure of myself. Unsure of the etiquette, and of what his expectation was. Had that been a one night stand, or the start of something else. I was also unsure that I was remembering anything accurately.

Lucas finished what he was doing, and turned to slide the scrambled eggs he was making onto two plates, which each had two slices of toast on them.

When I saw his two cocks, I knew that everything I'd remembered was real.

We ate breakfast at a small kitchen table in a companionable silence. I felt as though I knew everything about him I needed to, and there was no time or reason for small talk.

After he cleared the dishes, he poured more coffee and sat next to me.

"Next week is very important. Everything must be done on time and properly. Many great things depend on that."

I nodded.

"You will be busy, the time will pass quickly. Trust yourself. You already know what to do."

I nodded again. There didn't seem to be any point in saying anything.

The meal over, he kissed my hand and bade me to stand up.

He walked with me to the hallway, and pointed to the heels I'd worn the night before. I stepped into them, and he settled the long black cloak over my shoulders. Stepping in front of me, he fastened it at the throat while I slipped my hands through the two openings and closed the fastener near my waist.

He kissed me then, deeply and searchingly. The pendant hummed again, warming against my skin, and I knew he wasn't actually kissing me. I didn't care.

He stepped back to open the door. My rental was parked just behind his in the driveway. When I got in it, the car seemed to take off before I touched any of the controls. I sat in the driver's seat, dazed, and dimly aware that I was not in control.

Whatever he'd said to me, or done, the next three days passed in a blur.

By the time I made it into the house, I was having difficulty remembering exactly what he looked like. But I knew I was going to see him again.

I knew something very important was happening on Halloween, and I needed to be ready.

I carefully hung the cloak in the coat closet, and left the heels there too. I didn't bother with any of my own clothes, working around in the house naked and uncaring that anyone might be able to see me. I was full of energy, manic. I didn't have any desire to sleep or eat. I kept drinking coffee, one cup after another, and felt as though I could accomplish anything I needed to.

I gathered up the pile of discarded clothes in the corner of the bedroom and stuffed them into garbage bags. I packed away all the sex toys and the books into a large plastic tote I'd also acquired at some point. I packed up most of my clothes in my suitcase.

Then I settled down to finish the book. It was vitally important that I get it completed and the sense of pressure and time running short almost overwhelmed me. I sat at that table, typing furiously, reading furiously, correcting, editing, adding until I was satisfied. It took the better part of twenty-four hours to finish the final draft. I was proud of it, a literary story full of neatly resolved conflicts, characters who grew and developed, and an interesting plot that I really thought spoke to some universal desires. I should have been exhausted, but I was still flying.

I told myself that I would ignore the book for another twenty-four hours, then give it one last pass and send it to my editor.

In the meantime, I finished packing up the house. I packed my car with the garbage, the unneeded clothes, and the tote full of adult items. I found a long coat that covered me well enough, stuffed my feet into some slippers, and drove to the grocery store in the middle of the night. I went around back to their row of dumpsters, and added everything from the car. When I got back to the house, I put my suitcase and everything but the laptop itself into my car, ready to drive away when the time came.

I had at least two months left on the agreement to stay there. But I knew my time was going to be much shorter. I spent the next day and a half meticulously cleaning every part of the house, washing all the linens, and basically erasing every sign that I had been living there for a month. It was very important that no one be able to tell anything about me if they walked into the house.

That left just the story to finish. I cracked open the laptop and read the book start to finish, with as clear an eye as I could muster, looking for errors, typos, or tweaks that could make it perfect. I changed maybe ten words.

I emailed the masterpiece to my agent and my editor. I wrote them that I wanted some time to myself and to not attempt to reach me for at least two weeks, regardless of what they thought about the book.

I noticed almost three hundred unopened emails, most from my agent and editor. Others from friends. The only one I opened was from an account I didn't recognize. It had attachments. When I clicked on those, there was the video of me that the cops took, and almost a dozen of the pictures that the tow-truck driver took. I forwarded that email to Lucas, only half stopping to wonder how I even knew his contact info.

"I'm done," I thought.

A sense of relief washed over me. I still had a day or more to get ready. But as soon as I had that thought, I was up. I went to my purse and pulled out my cell phone. I came back to the table, and called up a program I didn't know I had. I watched as everything on my hard drive was erased, and then as the program reformatted the drive back to factory issue. Then I did the same thing with my cell phone.

I packed those away, stuffed my purse into the laptop bag, and took everything out to my car. I locked all of that in the trunk, left the keys in the ignition and went back in the house.

Suddenly I was exhausted. I managed to stumble into the living room, and I laid down on the couch, pulling one of the comforters over me. I was asleep almost before the blanket stopped moving. I dreamt again, of that clearing in the woods and the villagers drinking from me. Over and over the same dream, more vivid each time.

When I woke up, it was 11pm on October 30^th. One hour until Halloween.

I was ready, but I didn't know for what.

I showered, once again scrubbing myself with extreme attention to detail. The bracelets had morphed again, and were now almost two inch wide filigree cuffs. The opals had moved also, so that the large stone sat at the top of my wrist, and the smaller stones were in a line on either side. The pendent had changed also, flattening out and enlarging. Once again, it was stuck to my skin, hot, unmoving.

I looked thinner still, my ribs showing, and my stomach flatter than it had ever been. My breasts were larger still, close to twice the size they had been when I drove up here. They ached, and my nipples were erect and elongated.

There was nothing for me in the house. I knew I needed to go to Lucas.

I got the cloak from the closet and stepped into the high heels. I fastened the cloak at my throat and it hung down to the floor, the front opening fell together, concealing me.

My car was gone. In its place was the night blue Jaguar that Lucas had driven. I got in behind the wheel and it roared to life. I have no memory of even putting it in gear. I, or the car itself, drove out my driveway and into inky night. The road was pitch dark, and the car's headlights were off. It was silent, somehow, and all I could hear was my own breathing. My eyes closed and the car sped on.

Eventually, in a matter of moments, I was at Lucas's house. The car pulled into his driveway and I climbed out. I walked up the steps and he greeted me at the door. He was naked.

"Beautiful," he said with a smile. "And right on time."

I smiled, leaned in and kissed him. He didn't resist, but I registered that he was surprised. He hooked a finger under the collar of the cloak, and drew me deeper into his house. The door shut behind me as he unhooked the fastener and pulled the cloak away from me.

I stood in front of him as he hung the cloak on a coat rack. He circled me, and when he stood behind me, he wrapped both his warm arms around me. I leaned back into him as his hands roamed up and down my body. Everywhere he touched me warmed and softened, and I relaxed more and more.

He cupped my enormous breasts and the ache in them disappeared. He brushed his fingers over my nipples and they lengthened even more. Then my stomach growled, and he chuckled.

"She's hungry," he said. "I have just what she needs."

He took my hand and led me into the kitchen. He gestured for me to sit at the table, and then he brought over a large mug. I don't know what was actually in it, but it looked like uncooked egg whites with streaks of hot sauce. It was gelatinous and gooey, and at first glance my stomach turned over and I thought I was going to vomit.

But my hands lifted the mug to my mouth, and as soon as the first drop hit my lips I realized it was ambrosia. It was perfect. Whatever this was, was exactly what my body had been aching for, a long forgotten comfort food that I hadn't had in centuries. I savored the first few sips, letting each globule roll around on my tongue and palate, letting the sensation evoke a lifetime's worth of memories before reluctantly swallowing it down and taking another sip.

Then some deep seeded hunger took over and I chugged the rest, tipping the mug up, sucking and slurping until every last bit of it was gone.

"More," I heard myself saying. "Please."

"Not now, love. You remember. You can't fill up on snacks."

He'd sat next to me while I was drinking, and I stared into his endlessly black eyes, losing myself in those deep wells, looking for my own reflection.

He leaned in and kissed me, and his mouth tasted like blood and cinnamon, and when his tongue snaked into my mouth, I felt eternity. I reached out for him, wrapping my fingers around his neck, pulling him close. He moved back slightly, so that I could move onto his lap. I straddled him, his double cocks pressing against my already wet pussy.

My tits pushed against his chest, and immediately swelled more. Every part of me was on fire, consumed with something more than desire, filled with something more than need for him. He put his arms around me and drew me close to him and I opened myself as much as I could physically.

We kissed for a long time, his tongue diving deeper and deeper into my throat with every breath, and his cocks racing each other to full erection between my legs.

"Oh, fuck," he whispered. "I can't wait."

"No. Don't wait. Don't make me wait," I pleaded.

He moved and we stood up.

"Here, then. To start."

He sat me down on the table and I held onto his shoulders. He positioned his pricks, one at my asshole and one at my pussy. I spread my legs as wide as I could and he slid into me, front and back at the same time. This time, it was easy. No strain, no pain, no anxiety. My body was built for him, tailored to him, and only him. I had only ever been for him.

Immediately, I was transported. Immediately, with his first stroke, I climaxed. He moved in and out, morphing inside me each time.

The cock in front curved, dragging along my front wall and triggering my g-spot with each thrust. The cock in back lengthened, filling my rectum completely and then some. Both hardened, the shafts becoming more like steel, and both warmed.

He pumped and pumped, pulling out and pushing in while leaning over slightly. I grabbed for his neck, his shoulders, trying to keep hold of him. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my shins gripping high on his ribs, and then pulling his head down so I could lock my mouth to his. I had too many orgasms to count. My muscles tensed and relaxed and my body shook, and my legs twitched and finally I spasmed so hard I let go of him and fell back onto the table.

He caressed my breasts, kneading the flesh and gently pulling on my nipples. His every touch both soothed and ignited me. I'd let my arms fling wide and my eyes were open but unseeing. He traced my sides with his hands, then picked up my legs, holding my ankles wide.

I managed to look at him, this dark and light beauty, this mystery I'd just accepted without thought. He was staring down at our crotches, watching his twin dicks slam into me and pull out.

He must have realized I was watching him. He looked at me, and as soon as our eyes met, he exploded inside me. His glans rammed into my cervix and I felt his cum shooting out of him. I felt every hot spurt soaking into my vagina and into the deepest recesses of my ass. His cum was hot, liquid fire, and I almost drowned in it.

Lucas jerked his hips a few times, then pulled out of me and stepped to one side. I was delirious, untethered to the reality of the hard table under me. I felt full of liquid, loose and tidal. I tried to sit up, and swayed.

He caught me, reaching around my back, and with his other arm under my legs. He picked me up as though I weighed the same as a kitten, and carried me to a bedroom. He laid me on a soft satin bedspread, kissed my forehead and left.

He let me sleep for an hour, then I was awaked by his footfall into the room.

I rolled over onto my back, spreading myself wide for him. He was already fully erect. He didn't speak; there was no reason to. He climbed onto the bed and fitted himself into me. He fucked, and I fucked back, moving with him, slamming myself into him, as his thick cocks worked their way inside me. I craved for him to fill me up completely, I imagined his penises growing long enough to fill my uterus, to snake into my stomach. I imagined them thickening enough to split me open, and I wanted it to happen.

I didn't cry out or moan. I didn't call his name or direct him. I spoke with my body, arching and pushing into him, dragging him down to kiss me. When he did, I lost myself completely. It was such unholy pleasure that the edges of the world went soft and fuzzy and dark.

Again, he emptied himself into me. Again I felt his cum coating my insides, filling me up. When he withdrew, my previously flat stomach was rounded, like it was bloated. He climbed off the bed, kissed my forehead once again, and walked out.

I watched, fascinated, as my stomach flattened out and my breasts swelled. Where they had been heavy and pendulous, now they were filling, getting round, starting to stand up from my chest. I rolled onto my side and slept.

Some time passed, and he returned. He emptied himself into me again, and upon his leaving, I slept. I'm not sure how long each time, or if it was the same amount each time. Time was elastic, and I was barely of this world anyway.

Eventually, light began peeking through a gap in the curtains of the room. All the furnishings were dark, but various shades of red. There was a pair of armchairs on either side of a small round table. There was a picture in a frame on that table, but I couldn't make it out. There was a large armoire and an oval full length mirror.

The bed was a four post bed with a large headboard. The sheets and comforter were also dark, grey or black. The door to the room was behind me, and I could see light from the rest of the house as he opened the door. I didn't move this time. My enlarged breasts hurt, a pain deep on my chest wall, and sharp at my nipples.