The Curse

Amy frowned as she studied her textbook. She had to turn in a vial of perfectly cursed water to pass this section of her Witchcraft course. But cursing water wasn't exactly easy.

The best way, of course, was to use water where a priest had drowned himself. A man of God choosing to condemn himself to Hell was the ultimate blasphemy. Such water would get Amy an A plus for sure. But this wasn't Wisconsin, where suicidal priests could be found in every bar. This was Seattle, a strangely optimistic place.

It didn't have to a priest, of course. Amy was fairly sure she could find some drug-addicted street person who wouldn't object to a fatal bath. But the power of the curse would be weak. And Amy would be squeamish about the whole thing anyway. She had already ruled out murder for the same reason.

But there were other ways to curse water that didn't involve death. She called Carl. His fiancée had just dumped him. He wasn't handling it well. Amy had lost patience with his wallowing and mostly avoided him, but she could use his help for this. She wasn't sure she could go through with it, but she wanted to be a witch. This was the easiest way to pass this test.

"H'lo?" he answered, with desperate hope in his voice. He no doubt wanted to hear Cynthia's voice. But Cynthia was never coming back. Amy might consider murdering that cold bitch if she ever came back to town, but it wasn't likely.

"Hi," Amy said. "It's your sister. How you holding up?"

"How do you think I'm holding up? Supposed to get married this morning. Should be on my way to the Bahamas."

"This is your wedding night," Amy realized. There was so much power in that symbolic ritual.

"Don't fucking remind me." He hung up on her. Carl was drunk. Very drunk. That was perfect. There would never be a better time for this.

Amy gathered her candles. She still had five of her Cynthia candles left, despite her heavy use of them. Because of those candles, Cynthia had robbed multiple convenience stores, punched a cop, poisoned several people's lawns, and gotten over fifteen speeding tickets while never setting foot in the state. Amy did not forgive people who hurt her brother.

She rode her bicycle over to Carl's house. It was only a couple of miles away and she didn't like polluting the air for such a short jaunt. She let herself in, quietly, and listened for her brother. She smiled to realize that he was running a bath upstairs. He couldn't be making this any easier.

Amy set up her candles outside the bathroom door and lit them. She used a Cynthia candle, a luxury candle, and a romance candle. Anybody within fifty feet would be pulled into the fantasies they put out. Someone with a strong will could throw off the illusions, but a depressed drunk would be an easy target. First, she had to open the door.

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Carl ignored the noises downstairs and outside his bathroom door. Amy had probably dropped by. He didn't want her here. Her sympathy was unwanted and unhelpful. He just needed to suffer through this. The bath was good and hot. His phone was playing appropriate music. He still had another full bottle of brandy. He had everything he needed.

The door opened. For one moment, Carl saw his sister Amy standing there, a scary expression on her face. But then he woke up.

Carl shook his head to clear it. He wasn't sure where he was. But then the fog lifted. He was in the Honeycomb Resort with his new bride. Cynthia was standing next to the hot tub holding two glasses of champagne and wearing just a towel.

"Hey there, husband. Ready to do the deed and consummate this marriage?"

"Am I ever!"

She handed him one of the glasses and he took a sip. The champagne tasted oddly of brandy, but just for a moment. "Come on in. The water's fine."

Cynthia looked nervous as she dropped the towel and stood before him, totally naked. "You look as scared as a virgin," he told her.

"Your sister is a virgin," Cynthia informed him. "Did you know that?"

"Um, no. I try not to think of my sister's having a sex life. Why are we talking about it?

"I just think it's important that you know that. She's taking those classes, you know. And sacrifices are essential. She chose to give up romance, children, love, and companionship, all the things that go with sex. There is immense power in sex. Giving it up will let her hold onto that power."

"My sister is a bit of a nut. She thinks she's going to be a witch. She's only twenty-two. She'll grow out of this, I hope."

Cynthia scowled at him. For a moment, she looked like... No. Why couldn't he get Amy out of his head? He tried to focus on what his bride was saying, but it didn't help.

"I suspect Amy's already evolving," Cynthia said. "It wouldn't surprise me if she's on the verge of giving up her virginity. She's found a power source that outweighs abstinence."

"Like what?"

"If she were to find another virgin and they gave each other their innocence, that would be a very vital energy. If she auctioned off her virginity, that would be powerful. Money, lust, and a contest. If she were to have sex with a family member, that would make potent magic. Dark, but potent."

"Our parents died. I'm the only family she has left."

"She's aware of that," Cynthia told him.

"That would be perverse. Why are we discussing my sister?"

"It's only fair. At some level, you know what's happening. The illusions only work if you allow them to. Amy isn't yet strong enough to force them on you. And eventually, you will remember."

For a tenth of a second, Carl was in his dark bathroom back home. Amy was climbing into the bath with him. But he rejected the image and he was back on the island with Cynthia.

His bride came forward and stood between Carl's thighs, her toes tickling his balls and her pussy inches from his face. "Taste me," she said. Her voice was shaky, as if frightened, but Carl assumed it was excitement.

"Gladly," he agreed.

Carl slid his hands up the backs of her legs until he was firmly gripping her ass. He pulled her close against his face, pressing his nose between her thighs and nuzzling her clit. Cynthia sighed at the contact.

The hot tub was large, but seemed cramped. He couldn't get in deep enough to lick her. Amy, or rather Cynthia, propped one leg up on the side of the...well, on something, and Carl was able to push his whole face into her pussy, licking and sucking and biting gently.

Cynthia had kept herself clean-shaven, but in the weeks since she'd left him, she had grown a modest bush. Carl decided he liked it and chewed on the fragrant hairs. He tugged at them with his teeth, releasing them only so he could swirl his tongue through her entrance. He burrowed and nuzzled and plumbed her depths. He tasted her feminine musk and hummed his pleasure.

But she pushed him away before he could give her release. "No," she gasped. "I've never allowed myself to come. It will have more power if the first one comes from joining."

"Okay, sure," Carl agreed. "Should we go to the bed?"

"No. We have to do it here. I need the water to absorb this power."

For a moment, Carl was concerned. The bathtub was pretty crowded for fucking. But he shook his head and he was back in the sauna in a fabulous resort. "Climb aboard," he told his bride.

"Not yet. It's my turn to taste you. Stand up and I'll suck your cock."

Carl wasn't about to refuse her. Cynthia sat down and waited patiently as he stood up. His penis was hard and thick, jutting out in front of him, pointed directly at her face. Beneath the illusion, Amy stared at it, unafraid, but deeply respectful.

She had never seen one before. It was reddish, with pulsing veins on the shaft and a bulbous head at the end. Her brother was circumcised. She knew this from her mother, who liked to talk about her children's childhoods. But Amy would not have known the difference. She wasn't entirely sure what circumcision was to begin with.

What she did know was that this was the center of male power. Up until this moment, Amy had tried to keep her feminine power pure by remaining innocent and ignorant of any knowledge of the male. A young virgin had so much potential, so many possible destinies stretching out before her. A virgin witch could tap into her own power and be quite formidable until age diminished those possibilities. And by that time, her skills would have allowed her to claim that power permanently.

But there was an even greater power in the mingling of male and female. It was much harder to control and guide. The masculine will could not simply be filtered out. And that energy dissipated quickly, leaving the female weak and vulnerable. If Amy wanted to pass her tests and reach for real strength, she had to abandon her plan of being a purity witch. An earth witch knew a variety of magics and was less limited in her morality.

Calmly, Amy leaned forward, opened her lips and drew her brother's dick into her waiting mouth. She wasn't swimming in the fog of alcohol and illusion that enveloped Carl's mind. So the experience was unfiltered and intense.

She felt the heated weight of his cock resting on her tongue. He tasted of scented soap from the bathwater and of skin and sweat. But there was an unfamiliar flavor that only a witch could have noticed. It was the taste of masculinity. And Amy welcomed its vitality.

Her own first orgasm would be more powerful if she experienced it while impaled on her first cock. But Carl's first orgasm and his first penetration of a female were years behind him. It would not diminish anything to bring him to climax now. She could rouse him again if necessary. And there was power in a blowjob. The act of submission and surrender was a potent one. The giving of pleasure holds spiritual energy. The life-giving seed emitted by a man's dick and balls held such potential, it was almost food for the divine. A woman was the gateway by which new life entered the Universe. But a man's sperm was the key to open that portal. And the forbidden nature of doing this for a sibling gave it a darkness that had its own power.

Concentrating deeply, Amy could taste the essence of every female Carl had ever invaded. There were a lot more than she'd ever realized. Her brother had been busy.

Amy did not know how to give a blowjob, but she assumed Cynthia did. She needed to do this with a confidence she didn't actually feel. No hesitation or half-hearted efforts. But what to do, precisely, she did not know.

The term, "cocksucker" came to her mind. The term itself seemed to imply a mouth on a penis. Is that what she was supposed to do? Suck on him like a straw? If she was supposed to suck, why was it called a blow job? Maybe if she alternated between sucking and blowing, that would do the trick.

Amy put this idea into action. She sucked on Carl's dick like he was a candy cane, then pulled her mouth off and blew on his spit-wet skin to stimulate. She went back and forth between sucking and blowing while her brother panted and moaned.

It occurred to her that a mouth was not that different from a vagina. It was a wet opening in a woman's body. She knew enough about sex to know that the man moved his penis in and out of the woman's pussy, and that the friction of that movement made him come. If she could imitate that process, it might have the same result.

She stopped blowing on him and put him back in her mouth. Amy pushed her face forward until she had taken him all the way in and was kissing his abdomen. Then she pulled back, dragging her lips over his cock to simulate the sensations of pulling out of a pussy. She pulled all the way back, until she barely had the very tip of him in her mouth, then she pushed forward again, letting him penetrate her face.

She did this several times and was pleased with the panting noises Carl made in response. Suddenly, the panting became a groan. Carl grabbed Amy's face and took control of the motion. She surrendered to him and felt the power of that act fill her soul. Her brother held her head still while he fucked her face, thrusting his cock in and out of Amy's mouth.

With a choked grunt, Carl forced himself as deep as he could and pumped his seed right into her throat. Amy had heard girlfriends debate over whether they would spit or swallow, and while she had fully intended to gulp down everything her brother gave her, he didn't really give her a choice. He was flowing right past her tonsils. Spitting wasn't really an option.

This was a pure and holy act, a loving two-way gift with the male giving his essence and the female giving pleasure. And yet, it was also evil, based on deception and occurring between brother and sister. Amy absorbed the power of the giving and filtered the evil out into the bathwater.

Carl withdrew from Amy's mouth and shakily sat back down in the tub. "You've never done it like that before," he told his bride. "You usually use your tongue and your hands and you never let me come in your mouth. Were you saving this for the honeymoon?"

"Yes, husband," Amy said. "But we're not done yet."

The orgasm had been a powerful one. The water was very thoroughly cursed. But Amy wanted better than a passing grade on her exams. She wanted a curse potent enough to frighten her professor. Then she could maybe skip any more dark magic classes and concentrate on the rest of it.

She reached down between her brother's legs and took hold of his cock. It was soft and limp, surprising her. She had heard that these things changed shape, but with no personal experience, she hadn't been able to imagine it.

But she knew a simple revitalizing charm. It could make a tired athlete ready for another match, or temporarily ease the symptoms of depression, or drive away sleepiness from the drowsy. She suspected it would help her brother get hard and fresh again.

Amy whispered the words and let the power flow through her arm. Her fingertips tingled as vitality was restored to Carl's cock and balls. She felt him growing in her hand, the soft flesh becoming hot and rigid, pulsing in her palm.

Carl looked at Cynthia with a grin. "Ready to consummate this marriage?"

"No. But it has to be done." Amy had her brother push his legs out and lean back in the tub. She straddled his thighs, took hold of his shoulders, and crouched down over his jutting dick. Carl positioned it so that the tip of him was nestled just between the lips of her pussy. Then she stopped.

She wanted to curse the water, not herself or her brother. She did not want to put a claim on Carl's soul. He had to choose this. Amy blew in his face to break the illusion.

"Carl, it's me. Amy. It's your sister. I need you to fuck me. Will you do it, please?"

Deep in his soul, he had known, of course. The illusion was just an excuse. He wasn't surprised to find himself nudging his sister's sex with the tip of his dick. "Amy, no. This is so wrong."

"It is, yes. That's why I need you to do it. Please, brother. Fuck me. You can pretend I'm Cynthia again after you're inside me. But I want you to agree to it."

"What if you get pregnant? Are you on birth control?"

"No," Amy shook her head. "An earth witch doesn't use modern medicine. If I get pregnant, I'll have a baby. An incest baby is actually lucky if one knows the right spells. Please say it's okay."

Carl looked into Amy's eyes and tried to refuse. But the feel of her sex on the head of his cock was a huge temptation. Since Cynthia had left him, he hadn't had sex in months. He missed the physical relationship even more than he missed the woman herself. He closed his eyes and nodded in defeated agreement. "Okay. We can fuck. Just this once, though."

Amy smiled and looked deep into her brother's eyes as she sank down on him, filling herself with him, taking his dick deep within her pussy. She was tight. Nothing, not even a finger, had ever ventured into her virgin passage. It hurt some, forcing those never-used muscles to relax and allow him in. But Amy let gravity fight the battle, letting her weight overcome the resistance her body tried to put up. She gasped as the battle was lost and Carl slid home.

When he was fully seated, and the hair on his balls was tickling her butt, Amy gave him back the dream. She had him close his eyes and take a deep breath. The scent of the candles brought back their visions. Carl was back on his honeymoon with Cynthia. "You feel so wonderful," he told her. "Do you love my big cock inside you?"

"Oh, yes, big brother. I mean husband. Do what you will with me."

Carl had her wrap her arms around his neck and pull herself up a little. Then he thrust up into her, driving deep and fast every time. She cried out in pain and pleasure with each stab, "Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!"

He loved this woman. He had been looking forward to fucking her for years. A tiny little part of his mind tried to remind him that he and Cynthia had only known each other for ten months. But he ignored that. He was balls-deep in a cunt he had long craved.

"I'm going to come!" he warned her.

"Oh, yes, Carl! Do it. Come inside me. I want this."

He shoved himself into her as deep as he could go, and she pushed back against him, intent on taking him even deeper. With a groan and a shudder, he poured himself into her. And she was coming with him, her shouts of ecstasy filling the room.

Amy felt each spurt as a surge of energy, Wave after wave of power filled her soul as her brother's cum filled her pussy. The power of his male essence flowing into her triggered her own orgasm. The glory of the combined climax overwhelmed Amy's freshly awakened sexual core and she lost consciousness.

For long moments, as her body slept, Amy's soul rode the power she'd unleashed, giving her insight she'd never known before. She could feel what it was like for Carl to come and she was able to experience every woman he'd ever had. She could even sense their parents, Jake and Cindy, in the moments of orgasm where she and her brother had been kindled in their mother's womb.

She came back to wakefulness to find her brother staring at her in full awareness. The illusions had failed when she had lost control of herself. He knew he was sitting in his own dark bathroom, with his sister in his lap, and his still-hard cock still inside her.

She could feel his conflict. He felt guilty for enjoying her pussy. He was angry that she'd tricked him, though he refused to believe in the witchcraft that made that possible. He was concerned that his sister just might be crazy. And despite the feeling that he needed to stop this intimacy immediately, he had not been able to shift her while she slept against him, perfectly content to still be stuffed full of her brother's cock.

So she took responsibility and ended it for both of them. Amy stood up, letting him slide out of her welcoming sex. She stared at him silently and reached out with her mind to re-light her candles just outside the bathroom door. Carl's expression grew confused and his eyes glazed over. Then he shook his head and smiled, back on his honeymoon.

He stood up and went to the bedroom at Amy's suggestion. He'd sleep for a few hours and he'd feel better for a few days. Reality would slowly return to him over the next few days, though it might be weeks before he remembered fucking his sister. But he would find it easier to deal with once some time had passed.

In the meantime, Amy had some supremely cursed water and was now firmly on the path of an earth witch. She would pass her exams for certain.