Young Goodman Brown

"All women have the potential to become witches, of course. Most aren't aware of it, because it's been drilled out of them by the Men in Charge, but all know it intuitively. Every time a woman reads a horoscope or puts a lucky charm around her neck, she's practicing witchcraft. Many women know certain spells or magical practices handed down to them by their mothers or grandmothers. That's witchcraft too, although they may not think of it that way. Here at this school--this coven—we're more self-aware and organized and I've done my best to teach young witches how best to learn their Craft."

I guess she really liked to talk about this subject given the chance, but clearly, this woman was insane.

"I can see you don't believe me," she said.

"Well, no," I replied. "How could I? If you're really a witch, then prove it. Pull a rabbit out of a hat or something."

I guess I was getting a bit uppity with her, but she was demented anyway, and I couldn't get into any worse trouble with her than I already was, could I?

She shook her head and cackled evilly.

"It doesn't work that way, my boy...no, not at all. But I could make you break out in hives if I wanted to. Would you like that? ...Or I could make you fall in love with me."

I looked at her ugly old face and thought to myself that that would be magic.

She brought her face close to mine and stared into my eyes. I tried to avoid her gaze by turning my head, but I couldn't. I was like a bird hypnotized by a snake. She held her eyes on mine and I felt like there was something creeping out of them and into my head, and I suddenly realized that I'd been wrong about her all this time. She really wasn't such an ugly old bitch after all. What had I been thinking? She was a mature woman and had seen a few years true enough. But now I realized she wasn't really ugly at all. No...her's was a face full of character and promise. Miz Morgan was a woman who'd lived a full life; a well-rounded, experienced woman, wise in the ways of the world, who could teach a young man like me much. I got a boner and impulsively leaped out of the chair and embraced her...

"What the hell is going on here?"

That broke the spell or whatever, and I realized I was holding Miz Morgan's scrawny, unsavory body, and that her face was just as ugly as always. I turned red with embarrassment and deflated fast.

"Just a little love spell," Morgan said to a cloaked figure who'd just entered the room. It was the third person I'd seen on the stage with Morgan and Tabitha...and I knew that voice.

"Not with my son, you're not!" she said, pulling back her hood.

"Ma?"

She strode across the room, and pulling Morgan and I apart, slapped me hard on the face.

"You fool!" she said.

Ma's a farmer, so she knows how to hit and it stung pretty bad, but I was more shocked than hurt. There have been numerous occasions in the past when I've made her angry, but she'd never struck me before in my life.

"I'd heard a man had been caught in the school," she said. "But why you? What are you doing here after I told you not to come to school today. You should be back at the farm, doing your chores."

"Some of his friends were gossiping about the Fair and he got over-curious," Morgan said. She seemed pretty amused.

"What? Who are they, Goodman?" Ma said, shaking my shoulders. "Tell me! I'll kill them."

"Well...that's up to you," Morgan said. "But right now, you should be more concerned about you son, shouldn't you?"

"What? No!" Ma stared at Morgan and turned a little fearful. "I'll just take him home and we'll just forget all about this. No one ever need know it happened."

"It's too late for that, Rebecca," Morgan replied, cackling. "Everyone already knows. I made sure of that, and they're all very excited. None of our girls have ever been on a Stag Hunt before. It will be a good learning experience for them."

"Witch!" Ma said angrily. "You can't mean it. Please! He's my only child."

"The only child of Zach," Morgan replied. "And yet...he's only a son. You should have had a daughter instead. I'm sorry, but you know the rules as well as I do," she said, placing a boney hand on Ma's shoulder, "Rules handed down from ancient times. Rules that protect us. Unbreakable rules. I understand how you must feel, Becky, believe me. But any man who dares to penetrate the Female Mysteries must face the consequences. How else could we defend ourselves?"

I didn't like the sound of that...or the expression of anguish on Ma's face. She brushed Morgan's hand away and, turning to face her, pointed two fingers at her and started mumbling something I couldn't make out—like a foreign language.

Morgan threw back her head and laughed. "Your weak spells won't work on me. You should know that by now."

Ma dropped her hand and bowed her head. She wiped a tear away from her cheek with the sleeve of her robe and I could see that she was struggling with some internal turmoil.

"Hey! What's going on around here?" I said. "I'm tired of everyone talking in riddles around me."

Ma looked at me. Then she hugged me fiercely and started to full out bawl. It was a little confusing and awkward, since I could feel Ma's soft breasts heaving against my face through the material of her robe as she cried. She didn't seem to have much on underneath.

"Oh, Goodman," she said. "I'm such a bad mother! I couldn't save you father and now I can't save you." With that she hugged me even tighter and then gave me another hard slap. "But you're a bad son, too, for disobeying me. I'll miss you more than you can ever know, Kiddo. I guess I'll have to get a farmhand now."

What?

What was she saying? I mean she's always been a pragmatist, but...

Fuck this, I thought, and bolted away from them, making a run for the door. But before I could get there, I was intercepted by Charity and the other girl.

"That's right, girls," Morgan said. "Hold him tight."

I struggled like a demon, but couldn't break their grip. They were like trolls.

Ma and Morgan came over to us, and Ma appeared strangely (and inappropriately to my way of thinking) resigned to whatever going to happen next.

. "So...?" Ma asked Morgan.

"First," Morgan replied. "Let's take him to the Nurse's office."

The two girls pushed me out into the corridor, with Ma and Morgan following.

The Nurse's office was a smaller room than Morgan's office and contained a desk, a cabinet of medical supplies and a first aid kit on a shelf. Off to the side there was a curtain, and behind that, a couple of beds for sick or malingering students to rest on. The Nurse wasn't present, and God only knows what she was up to today.

There was one object in the room that I don't remember ever seeing there before though.

Propped up against a wall was a wooden structure consisting of a couple of cross-beams that met in the middle like a big letter X. Attached to it were some things that looked like restraints. What was it? Some kind of Pilates machine?

The girls dragged me over in front of it and Morgan told me to undress, but I refused to do it. She nodded her head and motioned to the two girls, who, with a complete lack of maidenly modesty, shucked my clothes from me like an ear of corn. Then they bound me to the Pilates machine with my arms over my head and my legs akimbo.

So, there I was, spread-eagled, starkers and bound by my wrists and ankles. It was embarrassing to me, and I could see that Ma appeared to be embarrassed too, although none of the others were. Morgan seemed particularly amused. She motioned to the two girls to leave us.

"I don't want to have anything more to do with this," Ma said, red-faced. She turned to leave, but Morgan stopped her.

"Not so fast, Becky."

"What?" Ma replied.

"I want your participation," Morgan said, cackling and rubbing her hands together.

Ma's eyes bugged out.

"Dammit, Morgan, you ask too much."

"I don't ask..." Miz Morgan replied, sounding very, very serious. The lights in the room flickered for a second and I swear I heard thunder. "I demand. I hold you partly responsible for him being here."

"That's wrong! You know that's wrong. What do you really want?" Ma asked.

But Morgan just pointed a boney finger in my direction and said, "Go now! And do it."

Ma looked scared and angry by turns. I heard her mumbling something under her breath again, but Morgan just laughed.

"When will you learn your counter-spells are completely useless against me?" Morgan said. "That's why I'm the head of this coven, and you're not."

Ma was fuming. She clenched her fists repeatedly, and for a while there, I thought she was going to hit Morgan. But finally, she just sort of collapsed in on herself and said, "You win, dammit! You fucking win. So now just watch me humiliate myself and my son in front of you. Enjoy the show."

With a look of resignation on her face, Ma knelt down in front of me at the level of my groin and said, "I don't want this anymore than you do, Kiddo," as she took my cock in her hand.

Words cannot express how weird I felt then. Ma...my own mother...was holding my cock in her hand. She started tickling it with her fingers, running them up and down the shaft, which sent shivers up and down my spine. When she cupped my balls with her other hand and started massaging them, I couldn't help but get erect. When I was fully hard, she patted the underside of my cock with her open palm a couple of times, like I'd seen her do with cucumbers in the garden, assessing them for firmness and weight. Then she closed her fingers around my cock and started stroking.

Meanwhile, Morgan had knelt down beside Ma, and she was so close that I could feel her rancid breath on my cock. I swear to God I hoped she wasn't planning on getting involved in this.

"Ah, the most intimate mother and child bond," she said. "I wonder how many other mothers with strapping sons like yours are holding their cocks at this moment as well."

"Would you mind backing off and giving me some room?" Ma said. "You cursed distraction."

"Humph," Morgan replied, standing up. She backed away, but not very far.

"Oh, and could you hand me a glass or something?" Ma said.

Morgan looked puzzled and a little suspicious, but took a beaker from the shelf and handed it to Ma who placed it on the floor between her legs. Then she brought her face close to the head of my cock and sniffed it. Her tongue emerged from between her lips and flickered like a snake over the head of my cock. This was crazy, and I couldn't believe she was going to do what it looked like she was going to do.... but she did! She licked the precum that was starting to ooze from my hole and then clamped her lips down over my cock and began sucking it. My Ma was sucking my cock! How can I describe it? I've had blow jobs before, but this was... My kindly, sort of virginal Ma, who shunned men in general, was sucking my cock and she really knew how to do it. I didn't know how to take it. It was like a transcendental experience. I felt like I'd died and gone to Heaven--and Heaven was my mother sucking my cock for all eternity. But in fact it didn't last that long. I was so over-stimulated and confused and embarrassed that I was ready to shoot my wad within seconds. But I didn't want to debase Ma by shooting it into her mouth, so I tried to warn her.

"Ma, I...!"

But it was too late.

I just started cumming and cumming and cumming, spurting what felt like huge amounts spunk into Ma's mouth. It went for on for I-don't-know-how-long, but a very long time indeed, I can assure you--and Ma never took her mouth off my cock once. When I finally subsided and started going soft, she took her mouth away with an audible pop, picked up the beaker between her legs, and spit my semen into it. She looked at the beaker and seemed satisfied with the amount of cum in it. Then she stood up and patted me on the cheek in a very motherly fashion.

"Good job, Kiddo. I hope you don't hate me for this." She sighed. "You remind me of your father in so many ways. You're just as big as he was, or maybe even a little bigger. The smell of this," she said, sniffing the top of the beaker, "Reminds me of him."

"But he'll have to work on his endurance," Morgan cackled, and Ma shot her a dirty look. She wiped off her mouth and said: "There, I hope you enjoyed that...you old witch! I'm done now."

"No," Morgan replied. "There's more."

"What?" Ma asked, but I think she knew the answer already.

"I want you to mount him," Morgan said.

"You're crazy," Ma replied. "I can't do that. That's incest."

"And sucking him off wasn't?" Morgan replied, laughing. "You call yourself a witch and you demure at a little incest?"

"No, it's not just that," Ma said. "If I have sex with him, I'm worried it might harm the spell and I'll start aging again."

"Tut," Morgan replied. "That's no excuse. It'll do you some good to acquire a few character lines on your face. We're the same age, after all, and you can't keep looking like a teenager forever, you know. People will start to talk."

"Hag! I don't want to end up looking like you. Besides, look at him..." she said, pointing to my limp dick. "He's done."

"You think so?" Morgan replied. "He's young, and I can't believe you don't know how to get a man back up...even an exhausted one. But no matter, we can use my flying ointment."

"You have flying ointment?" Ma asked.

Miz Morgan nodded her head.

"It's right over here," she said, going over to the cabinet, opening the door and moving things around until she found what she was looking for. "Right here," she said, holding a little clay pot in the palm of her hand.

She took off the lid and Ma stuck her nose in it and sniffed.

"What's in it," she asked.

"Oh...hemlock, belladonna, wolf bane, henbane—the usual things."

"Wolf bane and henbane?" Ma replied. "I've tried making it with smallage and cinquefoil. But the results were always disappointing."

Smallage?" Morgan said, cackling. "No, no...that won't do a thing. It has to be wolf bane. Besides, the key is to prepare the ingredients in really high-grade baby fat."

"Good luck with that," Ma said.

Miz Morgan nodded. "Modern diets."

"Yeah," Ma replied.

"Nevertheless, this is the good stuff," Morgan said. "Very effective. Try it on him. Just anoint his...ah...broomstick...heh heh...and off you'll go."

"Is it dangerous?" Ma asked. She was always looking after my welfare.

"For you...no," Miz Morgan replied. "For him?" She shrugged her shoulders. "Well... what of it?"

While the two of them were busy swapping recipes, I was struggling with my restraints and managed to get my hands free. I started in on the cuffs around my ankles, but Ma and Morgan caught me before I could finish.

"No Goodman," Ma said. "Let me do that." She bent over and finished undoing my ankle cuffs, but came back up and clasped my arms at my sides tightly in her strong arms. I tried to struggle out of her grasp, but couldn't. I'm no weakling; I've done farm work for years mind you, but even so I was unable to break free from her grasp. She hugged me tightly and whispered into my ear, "Go along with me, Goodman, and I might be able to save you. Come along."

She took my hand and led me through the curtain to one of the student beds.

"Lie down," she said.

I climbed onto the bed and lay down. My heart was beating like a trip hammer, and I scarcely dared to imagine what was going to happen next. It was all so wrong, but Ma stood by the side of the bed and smiled down at me reassuringly.

"It's going to be alright, Kiddo," she said.

"Is it?" Morgan replied.

"Shut up," Ma said.

She undid a drawstring at the top of her robe, pulled it up over her head and handed it to Morgan. She hadn't been wearing anything under her robe, and now she was standing there in front of me completely starkers. My face went red. Ma has always been such a conservative dresser; mostly overhauls and loose tops or the occasional modest one-piece bathing suit. And on the other hand, I'd always been respectful of her privacy and never ever tried to sneak a peek at her in the shower or some dumb thing like that. But now here she was, standing before me in all her naked glory...which was pretty glorious. You should've seen her. No...I take that back. You should never see her. This is my Ma we're talking about here, but...oh well...

Her body was just as youthful as her face. She had a trim figure and the muscles of her arms and legs were well-defined—the result of a lifetime of farm work--but smooth. Her ample breasts were firm and rode high on her chest, without a hint of sag. Her nipples were pinkish-red, surrounded by faint haloes. Her stomach was flat and muscular, and just below her belly button, I noticed she had a tattoo. I was surprised; I never thought Ma would be the kind of person to have one. It was red and black, and resembled the head of a ram. In fact, it looked a lot like the logo on a Dodge truck, but we've never owned one. Then I recalled hearing somewhere that witches were supposed to have an identifying mark on their bodies—the Witches' Mark. So was this Ma's mark then? And did that mean she really was a witch--and that I was the son of one?

God! I just wanted to close my eyes, but I didn't. I let my gaze travel farther down her body to the space between her hips. The hair covering her...ah...thing...was luxuriant and a slightly darker blond color than the hair on her head.

Ma smiled.

"Let's get comfortable, Kiddo," she said, climbing into bed with me and swinging a leg over my middle. She cradled my head in her arms and pressed it right between her breasts. My Ma's breasts! God, this was so embarrassing. We were cuddling and Morgan standing right there watching us. But Ma's breasts were nice to be between, soft and smooth and smelled—how can I put this—maternal. Having my face in Ma's chest was reassuring despite the fix we were in.

She put her head down and gave me a kiss. It was a nice, soft, motherly kiss at first. But then she started licking me around my mouth and cheek and over my ear (which I admit is kind of a sensitive spot for me) and then thrust her tongue into my mouth... and that was that! It was like being struck by wet lightning. I was blown away and all of a sudden horny, despite knowing that this was my Ma with her tongue in my mouth and that this was incest. I knew that we were both going to go to Hell for it, but I started kissing her back, and tried to match her by entwining by own tongue with hers. I guess I sort of surrendered to the circumstances at that point—or maybe I surrendered to something that had been in me all this time that I'd refused to recognize. Maybe.

Ma's lips on mine, her sweet breath, her soft skin, I was delirious. I could go on and on about this until it becomes wearisome, but won't; some of the details I'm keeping to myself, so I'm only giving you the condensed version of what it was like here. We ran our hands all over each other's bodies--exploring everything. I could feel the strong muscles of Ma's back beneath her velvety skin and my hands found their way down to her round buttocks. I squeezed them. They were as smooth and firm as the rest of her, and I ran my hands all over them. When I accidently touched her anus, she twitched.

Meanwhile, Ma's hands were on my buttocks, too, and she was grinding her groin into mine. I started to feel the fire down below and was hard again in no time. Ma's middle, pressed against mine, felt a little moist.

"Here," Ma said, offering one of her breasts to my mouth and encouraging me to suck on it for awhile. She ran her fingers through my hair, and I eagerly sucked on both of her erect nipples and squeezed her breasts with my hands. I felt like a babe again, seeking nourishment at its mother's breasts—except that I was bottle fed. All the while, Ma was making a peculiar sound that was halfway between a moan and a sigh. I was totally hard now, and could have popped right into her with no problem at all. I wanted to--incest be damned--but she said, "Wait."