Fucking Magic - A Potion Problem Ch. 01

I read a couple of other stories that were "Fantasy" Fantasies that inspired this. I will warn you that I've written this first arc, the first "book" (If you will) and there may be more, there may not. The plot of this story is trying to cure the love potion. It gets weirder (more fantasy-ish) as it goes along. And each "Part" includes our main character getting off at least once. It's not always "incest" sex going on, so be prepared for that. Also, the women won't always be "the sexiest things alive" either. I hope I balance the sex and plot well. Some parts will be longer than others.

As always if you care to volunteer and edit me, just shoot me a message. You can go through any story I've put out and I'll re-release it, or take up on this one if it's not all published yet. There are going to be about twelve parts to this.

Thank you! Please remember to Vote or Comment as that's the only quantifiable way that I know somebody finished any of my stories, it motivates me! You can do it anonymously and it just takes a couple of seconds.

Part 1 - Number 11 Shrub Street

"Hi Westley!" The neighbor from down the road called from the sidewalk, catching me reminiscing about the brick house I'd grown up in, some fun memories and some not. At first sight a sigh had escaped me at being home again. On the heels of that the deeper, more worrisome question; was I moving forward or backward? Even temporarily there was a fear in my head that everyone would think I was the loser living at home again. "Westley, yoo hoo?"

"Oh hey, sorry Mr. Figg, how are you? Hey Tibbles." He gruffed at the sound of his name, the German Shepherd Tibbles, not the old man.

"Back home for a minute I hear."

"Yeah, for a minute. Second week of the new year I'll be gone again." Smiling, once more reminded that Defluer was a small town, this random neighbor basically already knew my schedule. My first reminder had been when I'd stopped to get gas, the attendant was a girl I'd gone to high school with, after the initial hellos and how have you beens, she'd whispered all the juiciest gossip to me between helping other customers. A forty-minute stream of it, with some of the customers filling in extra information when my former classmate was too excited or not quiet enough and the customer overheard. Unbothered by it I made small talk. "It's nice to be home. Are you doing good?"

"Old and gassy but that hasn't really changed." Smirking at his own joke.

"Stop eating all that cabbage."

"It should stop being so delicious and I would." I used to help him pick the stuff he grew in his backyard, mom getting a homemade canned jar of the stuff for my troubles. I had actually sort of liked it but only in the last year before I'd moved away. The bushy eyebrowed old man got tugged a few feet by his dog, who was bored of the conversation. "Tell your mom I said hi. Don't forget to carve some time for her, she misses you. She was so excited to hear you'd be home for two months."

"Alright, I will Mr. Figg." Smiling at the old man who smiled back, before shuffling on his way down the road, all of six feet before Tibbles stopped to smell something.

Turning back to the brick house I returned to my thoughts, my worries. I was twenty-five. It had been almost eight years since I'd moved away for University, it felt like a lifetime. I wasn't moving back, not officially, just temporary. After the holidays I would be returning to Cedar Rapids, a fellow alumni had gotten me in where he works, but I had to wait until after the holidays. Mostly because the company didn't want to fire the guy who had 'my job' during them. Just to complicate matters more my roommates, who had started dating each other two weeks after I'd moved in, broke up. Neither of them wanted to stay in the apartment because of "all the memories" so they split the fee to get out of the lease early. Both of them offered me a room at their new places, but the HR lady at the big hardware store I'd been working at since I started University said that I couldn't cash in my vacation and sick time just for a payout, not once I put in my two weeks. She had liked me, I won't say she had a crush on me because that sounded arrogant but she was always saying I reminded her of her celebrity crush. It was probably that crush that got her to suggest I put all my time in for the entire run of holidays. After which she had said for the price of a couple drinks she'd backdate my two weeks so I would only have to come in to pick her up to hit the bar for my "Bon Voyage" party.

That was better than just working and cashing everything out, in my book. Add to that my roommates felt bad about "breaking up the family" so they refused to take my share of the rent for the last month. The only bill I was going home with was my car and phone payment. With vacation checks still hitting my bank account I was actually pretty flush with cash. Mom wouldn't dream of letting me pay rent, would be hurt if she didn't supply most of my meals. Which made it more of a vacation than most people got paying for everything and getting "away". It would be a nice month and a half, a long vacation before my career really started.

And yes, Mr. Figg was right, I would have to keep in mind to spend time with mom. Although a lot of my friends were clamoring to see me once they'd heard I was back for an extended period. More than a couple of them were girls, I wasn't exactly a one-night stand sort of guy, but I thought it would be nice to know how into me they were. It made my stomach squirrelly thinking about being gossipped about all across Defluer, about how I messed around with X and Y before leaving them both for Cedar Rapids. I'd keep it in my pants, but also get a nice ego boost if the ladies made it obvious they were not meeting me as "just friends".

Shaking my head clear of those worries I grabbed my computer bag, the other two pieces of baggage could wait for later. Gordon had let me use the basement storage unit that came with his place, so if I decided to stay with him or get my own place (I was really thinking about that with the amount of pay I'd be getting at the new job.) then I wouldn't be dragging my furniture and TV all the way to Defluer and then back to wherever I ended up in Cedar Rapids. Right now I just wanted to get in and visit with mom. It had been since Christmas last year that I'd been home. I had only realized that on the drive here. After having that sad thought I also figured out that I hadn't talked to mom but four times since then, two of those calls were under three minutes.

I felt like shit.

I was a bad son.

Worse was knowing she didn't even have my sister, who had gotten knocked up and married a year out of high school while I was away at University. Her and her new shotgun wedding husband had moved away a few months after their kid was born, to chase some "really great" jobs that couldn't have been so great considering they were always claiming money troubles. I didn't have much but ever since her graduation I had been putting my sister's (and now her husband's) name on Christmas and Birthday presents I (we) gave to mom.

Mom, who was all alone in the house. With only four tiny calls from me all year.

Deciding then, as I walked up, that at least for a week I would limit myself to just mom. Just me and her, unless she was at work. Work and Sunday night, as one of my horny (I thought) classmates was blowing up my social media insisting I hang with her.

Lost in thought when I got to the door I almost knocked! I had been here so little that my first instinct was to knock! Shaking my head I stepped inside, the door was unlocked, it was Defluer but it was also Shrub Street. Which was a cul-de-sac dead-end road that had about ten nosey neighbors who would be calling the cops if they saw anything near suspicious. Hell the only reason I hadn't gotten the cops called on me was because mom had told enough people that all twelve houses along the road probably knew who I was when I drove in. New car or not.

It was quiet inside. Which was actually nice, the place with the boys in Cedar Rapids hadn't ever been quiet. Between Gordon and Malcolm, me, and neighbors to four sides of the apartment there was always noise. That's if you discounted the general constant background noise of the city. Here I wandered into what seemed like complete silence. Peace, where nothing really had changed, not since WELL before I had moved away. That was as nice as the quiet.

"What the..?" Not to anybody but myself really, recognizing the shape of my old Playstation jutting out from a beat-up old box that was also familiar. With a big smile on my face I put my computer bag on the dining room table as I hurried over to the kitchen island counter where the old box was. Inside was also my favorite games, ones that I just hadn't been able to get rid of when I'd upgraded the last time and packed all these into the back of my closet. "Oh frick no!"

Delighted as well as embarrassed as I opened the Crown Royal bag to see what was inside. I dumped out the bag on the marble countertop next to the box to look at it all. Shame and delight running through me in turns as I sorted through the items that were no doubt trash to anybody else. To me they were all mortifying memories of my first year of high school when I'd gone through my Goth phase. Two "voodoo" dolls of teachers from my Freshman year of high school, those were more funny than embarrassing. Black eyeliner and lipstick, which I had worn, was all embarrassing and only now a little funny to think about now. A bunch of random keepsakes like a ticket for a punk band concert with a purple lipstick kiss mark on it, I couldn't name a single song that the band sang but I hadn't gone because I was a fan.

It ended with the ring. I thought my age, my maturity, would change the appeal of it. But no, it still looked a thousand years old. Made of deer antler (or so I had been told) and carved intricately with holly leaves and berries bursting from the prongs of the things it was carved from, antlers. The little berries and leaves had the barest hint of color, red and green. It was a beautiful thing. And just freaking cool, the only reason I had put it in this bag was because it was a gift from my first girlfriend. (Who had 'turned' me goth.) Put far out of sight because she had dumped me. It was out of nowhere but I suppose those kinds of things always are. Made worse because she was dating some other boy the next day. I had ripped the ring from my thumb (yeah I know!) and was now surprised I hadn't thrown all this in the trash. Probably some hope that she would come crawling back when the other boy was done using her.

"Still fits," I said as I put it on, that wasn't exactly right because now it fit on my ring finger not on my thumb, but still! Holding it up, part of me wondering if I could pull it off, wearing the ring out and about. Wondering if either of the boys would mock me for it or if they would give me nods of approval. It was half off when I remembered it, as soon as I did I couldn't help myself. Shoving it back down before holding it up and out, chanting. "Horn and holly, fortitude and fervor, I am bound, I am bound. Horn and holly, power and passion, I am bound, I am bound. Horn and holly..." For a second I floundered on the ending but I had repeated it every time I had taken it off and put the thing back on. For just shy of a year, (I had been instructed to do say it to make the 'magic' work.) so no it was still there in my brain. I went on once it stirred up from the dark cobwebs of my memory, "Energy and elation, I am bound, I am bound." Shaking my head at what a fucking tool I'd been, I had literally recited that after EVERY shower, loud enough that my sister and dad would mock me about it. Rightfully so I thought now, "Ah shit!"

It hurt!

I must have not seen some burr or shard of old horn jutting out, because it felt like I'd gotten a sliver. A grunt locking up my chest as suddenly there not just one but dozens of slivers! Sharp, almost hot seeming, needles stabbing DEEP into my finger. To the fucking bone! Somehow I stopped myself from pulling the ring off as my instincts said to. Because if there were dozens of burs I'd rip the flesh along my entire finger. The pain abated, quicker than it had come on, but it seemed like a numbness spread out after. I only got one calming breath in before a wave of... Vibration? Electricity? Nerves dying? Something. Something weird caused me to curse several more times because it spread all through my body.

My first day back and I was going to have to go to the hospital to get an old ring cut off me, plus who knew what kind of fucking shots to stop whatever diseases were in something like this.

Staring at it, after those waves of sensation, I expected blood or swelling or something to start. There was nothing though, not really. Maybe a weird swimming at the edges of my vision. A soft buzzing in my ears. My finger looked absolutely normal. I blinked my eyes several times, shook my head, the ring looked... Brighter. For sure the green of the leaves was dark like pine needles and the red of the berries was artificially so, now like firetrucks. The antlers, the carvings of them, were a chestnut brown now too. Hoping that the lack of blood was good news, maybe stupidly kidding myself, I carefully tried to pull it off. It didn't budge.

"What the hell?" It didn't hurt when I gingerly pulled on it, it didn't cause any blood to start. It just didn't move. Not at all. Not from its spot on my ring finger, not up or down. But it did turn! I thought for sure there would be blood then, when I accidentally twisted it. But nope, no pain, nothing but the friction of smooth material. "What the hell?" A bit louder, as I twisted it more, not accidentally. It spun freely, different dark green leaves, bright red berries, and brown antlers coming around the edge of my finger, before disappearing over the other, only to return again. Still no blood. No pain. All that and it still didn't budge when I tried full-on to take it off. Weirdest thing was that I could pull it away from the skin, push it so it was against my finger, see light between ring and flesh. All along the underside, right side, left side, and top of my finger. There was space between, so it wasn't 'attached' anywhere at all, there didn't seem to be any shards or splitters, it was all smooth. "Oh what the hell?"

"Westley is that you?" Mom called.

"Yeah, it is mom." With no blood or damage my heart slowed, my real worry left, I pulled on it as I turned it, hoping I could twist it to the right angle to get it off, even though it didn't actually feel like it was stuck on anything. It wasn't pressing against my knuckle, it didn't even get close! "Where are you?"

"In the basement. I was getting some of your stuff from storage, I thought you might want it since you were going to be staying here a while."

"Oh, yeah, thanks." I went to the top of the stairs, mom stood at the bottom with a wine glass in her hand.

"No problem, even if you don't want it you don't have to throw it out. Plenty of room down here still." She wanted to keep it, my lovely mother didn't want to throw it away because she needed the keepsakes, because my sister and I had pretty much abandoned her. The gut rot of being a bad child stealing away most of the concern over the ring, although I absently kept trying to work it off. "I just thought... If you wanted anything, or just wanted to look through it." There was a sway to her, a dazedness as she stared up at me, my suspicion more or less confirmed by her leaning against the wall. She had been drinking that much. "Ooh, baby. I... I think I shouldn't have had so much of that wine of yours. But it tastes so good and... Reminded me of... something..." She gave a shiver, a lick of her lips, a tiny smile. "Something nice when I smelled it that I couldn't help but have a little sip. Mmm, it was so good..." She giggled, wiggling her mostly empty wine glass before draining it. Already forgetting her earlier worry over drinking too much. Down it went with a loud (Lewd) groan of appreciation, even from the top of the stairs I could see her eyes roll back. "Yeah, it's so good that a sip maybe turned into like two glasses. What wine was it? There was no label. I'd love some more."

"Wine? What wine? I didn't have any wine." Sure she had it wrong.

"In the box." I shook my head, she motioned back behind me. "The box, the box."

That box was all from Freshman year, thrown into the back of my closet, moved to the basement when my sister had taken the larger room after I went to University. Either way I had not been a wine drinker until Malcolm and Gordon got me to be one, even still it was when they bought the good stuff that I enjoyed it. On my own it was always an X and Y. X being whatever hard alcohol was around paired with Y, whatever caffeinated soda I could get. Only after the wines did I start appreciating a good whiskey, but still wasn't a snob about it as most of the time it went into a soda. I certainly hadn't been a wine drinker back then.

"On the counter, still most of a bottle left. Half... Some... Part of a bottle left." She didn't know, motioning with her wine glass to her right, so I turned around and looked to my left.

"Oh no." There on the counter by the refrigerator was a nightmare. I knew it HAD to have been switched out, but... It was switched! It was alcohol in there, that's why I had always saved it, as a 'Break open in case of emergency!' sort of thing. But I had a friend from high school who worked at the local grocery store and so we never lacked alcohol. Which meant there was never any emergency, I had never broken into that bottle. Except WAS that why? Did I KNOW it had been switched? I still felt sick to my stomach. "Mom? Why would you drink that? Why would you open it?"

"Westley! Little Leelee should not talk to mommy like that! I... I figured if it was bad I'd empty it out, so it didn't break and spill in the box and ruin everything. But it didn't smell bad." Her blonde ponytail flinging from side to side as she shook her head vehemently. "It smelled GOOD! Internet said it was probably still good, and it was more than just good. It's DELICIOUS!" Putting her glass to her lips she got maybe one last drop. "I want more. Please!"

"Okay." It was switched! It was switched! It was switched! It. Was. Switched!

"I need your help down here anyway. There are a few more boxes that need carrying up, for your sister when she comes back home. That's the day before Thanksgiving, so don't make any plans, she'll want to see you."

"Yeah okay."

"Bring the bottle."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Giggling as she disappeared, mumbling to herself. "It's delicious but it just doesn't hit the spot, it really only makes the spot bigger, but it's SO GOOD!"

I went to the bottle, horrified as I slowly reached out to it, picking it up. My entire soul screaming not to, I realized now the real reason why I had never taken myself up on this emergency bottle. Because in my head it would always be... It would always be my ex-girlfriend looking into my eyes as she pricked my finger letting a few drops of blood go into the bottle. After which the goth girl would put a bandaid on it, give it a kiss, then reward me to ensure I didn't balk the next day when she did it again. Well, she had gone goth for a reason, to get attention, which I gave her with plenty to spare. So she was always happy to mess around but it helped soothe over getting bled every day for an entire month.

All because Jessica thought herself a witch, she had supposedly carved the ring (that was now stuck on my finger) after breaking the antler from a deer that was mating. Which was totally unbelievable, she was the least outdoorsy person I knew. I couldn't imagine her finding a deer, much less sneaking up on it and tiny as she was, breaking an antler off. I didn't believe a lot of what she said, I figured she had found it in a resale shop or something. Knowing I was avoiding the bottle thing I tried to exactly remember everything she said about the ring, it supposedly would give me great stamina and regenerative abilities. Like the wearer would be able to fuck for as long their lover wanted and always be packing a full sack. That was my youthful (probably mostly forgotten) translation of what she had said. I couldn't say the first part of that was true, inexperienced I hadn't done a good job at all, it had been more fun for me than her.