tagIncest/TabooThe Chamberlain Coven Ch. 03-05

The Chamberlain Coven Ch. 03-05

byGlaze72©

Hello All. Here is the next section of the story. I hope you enjoy it. Right now I am fine-tuning the next few sections, but another story is taking precedence right now, so it may be a while before the next section is posted. As always, your votes and comments are welcomed.

Chapter 3


Susanna moped through the house, bored and aggravated and lonely on a Friday night. She hadn't had a date since she had told Larry to get lost, and her girlfriends were all busy. Her mother had gone to the store to hold a meeting with the rest of the coven, but she had been left behind.

Again.

Her mother had told her that she and her brother would join the coven soon. But she never told her exactly when that would happen, or what circumstances would have to be met for them to join.

"You'll know when the time is right," she had said.

Mothers could be damn irritating when they chose. They were especially aggravating when they worshiped a Goddess when no one else did, and made the other kids at school ask awkward questions.

She turned on the TV and tried to watch a show, but nothing held her attention. She flipped from sports to game shows to mindless reality TV. Finally, she changed the channel to her old stand-by, Animal Planet.

Maybe there will be a show about meerkats. Or lemurs. They are so cute and funny.

But the show wasn't about either of those. Instead, she learned about a creature in Africa called a honey badger. It was small, less than two feet long and only about eight inches high. But it was fierce. She watched, entranced, as a honey badger took on a huge snake and killed it. And then another one attacked, (attacked!) a lion.

Something about the violence of the honey badger spoke to her. She shifted in her favorite chair, but could not get comfortable. The air in the house was still and stifling.

You should change your clothes. Put on something sexy.

She would change her clothes, she decided. She paused the DVR and bounced upstairs. She shucked her jeans and the shirt she had worn to school and looked in her dresser for something fun to wear.

To hell with the panties. It's too warm and Mom won't let me turn on the AC. "Save the planet." Hah. What's the use of saving the planet when my cunt is all itchy?

Susanna's face burned as the naughty word echoed in her head. But it was. Her cunt was itchy and she was tired of not having a boyfriend. Tired of being a virgin. She didn't miss Larry. After she saw the way he stared at the rest of the family at the barbecue she knew he was a dog. But she wanted what Tricia and the rest of her girlfriends had. They had told her about how much fun sex was, especially if you had the right boy. One who listened.

Sighing, she pulled on a pair of tight cut-offs and a crop-top that had fit her two years ago. She had outgrown it, but she loved the way it pulled tight across her chest and showed off her boobs. Stretching her arms over her head, she looked in the mirror.

Showing a little under-boob there, girl. She giggled to herself. Actually, showing a LOT of under-boob. It barely covers your nips.

Who cares? It's not like anyone who minds is going to see it. John pretends he doesn't like it, but I know he does. And Mom tells me my body is a gift from the Goddess, and that it is wrong to be ashamed of it.


Thinking of her brother distracted her more. She hoped he would get home from his ballgame soon. Maybe they could order some pizza and watch a movie while everyone else was sorting junk at the store.

Although she was sometimes frustrated by her mother and her aunt's insistence on running what she considered to be a second-rate novelty shop, Susanna believed in the Goddess. She had seen her mother and sister do things that proved her existence. She just wished sometimes that her mother wasn't so serious about it all the time.

She went back downstairs and started the show again. Honey badgers really were interesting. All that blood and anger. An animal that could be killed, but never beaten.

Take them off.

She took off her cut-offs, and kicked them into the corner.

Touch yourself. Play with your hot cunt. Make the juices flow.

She ran her hands down her sides to her legs, and then up the insides of her thighs. Her thumbs stroked the patch of hair above her mound. Some girls shaved a landing strip there, she knew. Hers was in the shape of a star. It took a lot of work, and a steady hand, but the sight always made her feel delightfully wicked. She lounged back in the old leather recliner, knees hooked over the armrests, left hand busily frigging her steamy cunt. Almost involuntarily, she drew the charm for lust on the inside of her left thigh, and the charm for fertility on the right.

And on her belly, above her womb, the rune achma, for broken promises and shattered faith.

She really was most remarkably horny. Davey had made her feel like this, hot and itchy, and fluttery in her belly, before his mom got a better job in Seattle with Boeing and he had to move to Washington. They had tried to get away, just for a couple of hours, but her mother had always been there to make sure she and Davey couldn't.

She scowled. Why did her mother have to always ruin everything?

Well, she wasn't here tonight. She wouldn't ruin her good time. John was coming home soon. She could feel it. Each twin always knew where the other one was. John would get home, and they would have some supper and maybe watch a movie. And then to bed.

She felt his presence in her head even before she saw the headlights or heard the car pull into the drive. She smiled. It was her best friend. Her brother John. And he was so happy. Maybe he got to play in the game!

She walked into the kitchen to meet him at the front door. Her left hand was still idly playing with her soaking cunt. The other cupped her right breast, teasing the nipple, shirt pushed up above her breasts. Teasing teasing teasing.

Oh Goddess, I am so horny. I need I need I need

Her brother walked in the door. She gasped when she saw him. His presence struck her like a wave. He smelled of crushed grass and infield dust and the stink of summer sweat. His uniform shirt was open to the waist, and she could see the sparse hair of his chest. He hadn't shaved since the morning, and his hair, black like their sister Eleanor's, made a raspy stubble on his chin that she ached to rub her hands against. His green eyes shone with joy.

And below, raising rampant from his unbuttoned pants, his erection stood proudly.

"Susanna! Sis! We won the game! Tom got hurt and I came in and drove in two runs and scored the winning run. I was the hero! And I got into a fight and coach said it was OK and I'll be..."

His voice trailed off. They stared at each other.

Deep in John's eyes, something changed.

"Jo..Jo..John?" Susanna stuttered. She saw danger in John's eyes. Something angry and feral.

And something deep within her answered. A wicked, wanton craving. A desire that would never be slaked, not til the skies fell dark and the stars burned out.

John started to undress. First the stupid hat with "Warriors" written in script. Then the jersey, His shoes caused him the most trouble.

"Come on, little boy," she heard her voice coo to him. "Let's see what is hiding under all those...unnecessary..clothes." Both hands were on her breasts now, the last vestige of sanity gone, along with her shirt. She felt the weight of her breasts heavy in her palms, pregnant with possibility. She pinched her nipples, stifling a gasp as a bolt of delicious pain lanced into her twat, caused her hips to jerk forward, hungry for his cock.

He cursed at the laces until he got them undone. Then the stirrups and the socks and the pants and lastly the ridiculous athletic supporter.

Naked, they faced each other.

"It is time," they said in unison.

John rushed forward, blind with desire and lust. He grabbed Susana's hands and pinned her against the wall. Eager and mindless, desiring release above all else, his cock burned against her vulnerable belly. His mouth came down hard on hers, ravaging it as she shrieked her need into his mouth.

His hands cupped the taut curves of her ass, fingers gripping hard. He raised her effortlessly and her legs wrapped around his waist with the speed of a striking snake. Her hands were around his neck. She smiled into his eyes. One hand released him. Caressed his chest, and grasped his cock, aiming it at her cleft.

"Yes, darling. Take me."

At last at last at last, the voice gloated.

Susanna never saw her mother, and John never heard her. An hand holding a silver knife appeared at his throat as if by magic. Perhaps it was. Claire's face, incandescent with rage, appeared at the side of her son's.

"Get. Your. Hands. Off . My. Daughter."

The tone brought Susanna back from the brink. Suddenly, in stark clarity, she saw where she was and what she was doing. She let go of John's penis with a cry.

"Momma? John? John, honey? What are we doing?"

John, or the thing possessing him, gave no answer. Madness lurked in his eyes. He turned his head and growled at Claire. His hips drove forward, trying to impale Susanna on his cock. Faster than thought, another knife sprang to her hand.

This one was pointed at his groin.

"Listen to me, Dark One," Claire hissed to the being who had usurped her son's mind, "I am Claire Chamberlain of the Chamberlain Coven. I will chop off your dick and feed it to the cats before I let you use my son to break our covenant with the Goddess. I will let this coven die and be scattered to the four winds. But you will not have my son and you will not have my daughter. Get thee hence!"

And, suddenly, the beast was gone. Blinking like a man woken from sleep, John dropped Susanna to the floor and staggered backwards. He looked at his hands, then at his mother, shining like an angel, holy in righteous fury. Lastly, he looked at his sister, nude and weeping, shattered by what had almost happened. Memory returned to his face.

He staggered down the front hall to the downstairs bathroom and was spectacularly sick.

Chapter 4


Claire sighed, exhausted. She had felt the crisis building in her head during her mad dash across town. She knew for a fact that she had run at least seven red lights, and it was only by the grace of the Goddess that she had avoided a head-on collision when she moved into oncoming traffic to illegally pass a moving van on Twelfth Street.

John emerged from the bathroom, teary-eyed and red-faced from vomiting and guilt. And still, she couldn't help but notice, gloriously erect. She grabbed his arm as he came out.

"Upstairs," she ordered him. "Brush teeth. Mouthwash. Shower. Wash hair. Brush teeth again. Mouthwash again. Dry off. Shave. Brush hair. Mouthwash again. Downstairs. Thirty minutes. Go."

John smiled crookedly. It was painful. But it was there, and it was sane. Claire sighed in relief. Many had taken far worse from their first encounter with the Dark One.

"Not going to tell me how to dress?"

"Why bother? None of us are going to finish the night wearing anything." She smiled at his expression of numb disbelief, "Get moving."

John slowly walked up the stairs. Claire listened at the foot of the staircase until she heard water running in the shower, then nodded her head and went into the kitchen to care for her other child.

She found Susanna huddled nude on the floor, crying hysterically into a dishcloth she had pulled off the counter. Claire knelt beside her, gathering Susanna into her arms, feeling like her daughter was nine years old again and needing comfort because their pet hamster had died. Hocus, one of the two cats, poked her nose through the doorway. When she saw that there was nothing more serious than two humans sitting on the floor, Hocus came in and sat in Susanna's lap.

"Oh, Goddess, Momma. What can you be thinking of me?"

"What do I think? I think that when you needed your family the most, you were left alone and unprotected, and it is only through a higher power than ours that you do not have a demon's seed planted in your belly right now."

"John is no demon!"

"And that was not John who wanted to fuck you. And you were not yourself, because you would have given yourself willingly to the being who wore John's face."

"I don't understand."

"Of course you don't. How can you? We have kept you unknowing for so long. We used to argue about it, your Aunt Sybil and I. She thought you should know. I thought you were too young and we should wait. Perhaps she was right.

"But right or wrong, we are not going to have this conversation on a cold tile floor. Let's get up," she said, levering herself to her feet. Reaching down, she drew Susanna up after her, dislodging Hocus, who trotted into the hall with a sniff. When Susanna stood, she found herself close to her mother.

Very close.

Of their own volition, Susanna's arms wrapped around her mother's waist, drawing her close. Her hand rose and cupped her mother's breast and she leaned in tight, nuzzling her neck. Drawing back a little, she looked into Claire's eyes. She saw nothing but love, and a sweet desire that was a shadow of her own.

Leaning in, she kissed her mother full on the mouth. Her lips were soft and warm. Her tongue darted into Susanna's mouth once, twice, teasing her with desire, then withdrew.

"Not now, darling," Claire said, her voice cheerfully indulgent. "This night is not for us, but for you and John."

"But you said..."

"I said I would not allow you to fuck a demon. And I am not about to apologize for that. I said nothing about not allowing you to screw your brother." Claire took up the dishcloth and soaked it in warm water at the sink. She then knelt in front of her middle child. Her inner sight saw the sigils and runes Susanna had drawn on her flesh. Hissing angrily, she wiped all sign of achma away, but left the charms for lust and fertility. No harm there, as long as the act was done in love. Carefully, so carefully, she dipped her fingers into Susanna's moist folds and gathered wetness for her task. In the place of achma, she wrote the rune galen, symbol for birth and beginnings and forgiveness.

Susanna leaned against the kitchen counter, feeling warm and safe and protected. When she felt her mother's fingers enter her, she felt no fear, but instead shifted to ease her access. All was well, she knew. All was well. Her mother was there to care for her and no evil thing would dare her anger.

Not now.

Claire brought Susanna into the living room, deposited her onto the couch, and then went quickly back into the kitchen, where she made a tray of sandwiches and chips. She poured three glasses of milk and brought it all back into the family room. What she saw there made her raise her brows. Her daughter was facedown on the floor. Her hard little nipples were scraping the carpet as she shifted back and forth, and her hand was cheerfully exploring the depths of her cunt.

Oh, to be eighteen again.

"Don't soak the carpet, dear," she said mildly. We just had it steam-cleaned last month," She set the tray down on the coffee table, "There's sandwiches if you are hungry."

"Starving," Susanna said. She reached up with her left hand and grabbed a ham and swiss with onions on whole wheat. From the floor came the busy sound of chewing. A moment later the hand reappeared and grabbed a glass of milk. Shortly thereafter, the empty glass was set back on the table with a thunk.

"Momma?"

"Yes, dear?"

"I can't seem to...um...ohhh Goddess..."

"Stop?"

"Mmmmm...yes."

"No. Neither could I, when I first crossed. Or your sister. Or your aunt or cousins. When our line crosses over, we pretty much lose all control. However, as shapely as your ass is, I don't feel like talking to it. Do you think you could turn over?"

"Of course, Momma," Susanna rolled over, her stroking fingers never leaving her pussy, face flushed red. Claire knew she could not have climaxed, not now, not with her first time still before her, but she seemed to have relaxed slightly. There was less frantic desperation. More of a sense that she was calming a beloved pet. Her thighs sagged apart, allowing Claire to see into her hidden folds. Her scent, a combination of musk and arousal and her own special tang, carried over to Claire, and she had to stifle an urge to kneel in front of her daughter and plunge her tongue into her silky depths.

Luckily for her, John chose that moment to come downstairs. He had washed and shaved and brushed his hair, and when Claire came over to hug him, she noted with approval that she could find no hint of barf-mouth on his breath.

They won't be able to help themselves, once the ritual is begun, poor children. But the least we can do is make sure it is as pleasant as possible.

John had also put on a bathrobe. Whether because he was shyer than his sister, or because he wanted to prove to himself that he still had a measure of self-control. However, it was readily apparent that his time upstairs had done nothing to diminish his ardor, as his phallus was still well and truly erect. When John sat down with a sandwich and a generous handful of chips and a glass of his own, the bathrobe fell open, and his hand gripped his cock and gave it a gentle stroke.

Susanna, meanwhile, had stopped stock-still when John entered the room. Her eyes gleamed as she drank him in, and the light from the candles Claire had lit gleamed off her sweat-slickened breasts.

"Susanna, come over here," Claire's words were strong as iron.

Tearing her eyes away from John, Susanna sat by Claire on the couch. Shifting her body slightly, Claire drew her into her lap, where she could stroke her gently with her hands, all the while keeping her under control. She smiled with remembered fondness as Susanna's thighs opened yet again, wantonly displaying her pussy to her brother's eyes.

By the Goddess. Were we ever so far beyond control? She asked her long-dead husband. I don't remember being this brazen.

No darling, his voice came back to her. If I recall, we were far worse. These children have had eighteen years to get to know each other. If I remember correctly, we met at a 9 AM biology seminar and were humping in an empty classroom by 9:20.

They had both flunked that class, Claire remembered. But Eleanor had been planted in her belly sometime in those first, frantic days of lovemaking.

"Mother," John's voice interrupted her thoughts, "We need to talk."

"Indeed we do. And first I must apologize to you both. If I had any idea the risk we were taking..." she shuddered. "I was wrong. And I admit it. I should have warned you what to expect. But I did not think the pull would be so damn strong! And I had no idea the Dark One was laying in wait for you. If I had, I would have warded and bound you both so tight he would not have dreamed of approaching your minds.

"But tell me, children, what you have experienced this evening."

John and Susanna told Claire of their experiences, and Claire nodded when what she was told matched her suspicions.

"Damn me, but we were fools. We spent all of our time wondering when John was going to cross, that our eyes were blind to Susanna. If we had spent but a moment thinking about it, we would have guessed it would be on the same day, triggered by the same event. Twins, bound by blood and love and shared experience in the womb, what choice did you have? When the full moon rose this evening, you crossed. And then you were manipulated. John, you helped win a baseball game. That was an emotional event for you. And then you got in a fight and struck down your enemy. Even more emotion. Your glands were running full tilt, your mind distracted. You were an easy vessel for the Dark One to invade.

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