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The Witch 1/3
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Subj : The Witch 1/
Cheryl sat alone in the back of the collage classroom as the professor
gave a boring lecture on Modern Politics. Bored, she began scribbling on her
notebook, arcane symbols coming to life beneath her pen.
She could hardly wait, for tomorrow would be a very special day. An
ancient holiday, celebrated in the same way that her mother had celebrated it,
as well as her mother before her. All Saints Eve, she thought with a grin,
Samain... Hallowe'en, it didn't matter what you called it. Yes, she sighed to
herself, tomorrow I will summon the Incubus for the first time.
Cheryl had never summoned one of the Incubi before, but her mother had
told her all about them and, more importantly, how to summon one. She could
clearly remember the look in her mother's eyes as she talked about these
sexual spirits, and longed to have the same look in her eyes on November
first.
Her mother had told her that an Incubus was a sexual being that existed
for only that purpose. It thrived on your fantasies, and made every effort to
bring them to life. You did not even have to vocalise your desires because an
incubus could sense them telepathicly. "The only thing you need," her mother
had told her, "Is the things that I will give to you when the time is right
and a living male." Only on her twenty-second birthday did her mother give
her a bag and told her that it was her turn to summon. She made Cheryl
promise not to open the bag until the stroke of midnight on Hallowe'en, and
sent her on her way.
Now, Cheryl mused, I must get a male. This task would not be difficult in
the least. Cheryl had a pert, young body that was full of beautiful curves,
and she knew that there were at least thirty guys in her class that would
gladly kill for her. Cheryl thought to herself as she approched a cluster of
muscular young men. They would kill for me... but will one of them be willing
to die for me? The thought sent a shiver of extacy up her spine as she neared
the men, and the smile that followed helped her get their full attention.
One male, in particular, caught her attention. His name was Billy, and he
was a senior who was majoring in Behavoiral Science. Try this behavior, she
thought as she circled wordlessly around the group and slid behind him.
"Trick or Treat", she whispered in his ear as one of her hands slid
between his legs and cupped his crotch.
Billy grinned and turned from the others to face her. "Want some candy,
little girl?", he laughed as his eyes met hers. He removed her hand from his
manhood and placed a tanned arm around her waist and began walking away with
her.
"I like you," she said with a smile, "Why don't you come over to my house
and we'll both dress up as ghosts for Hallowe'en? I'm sure that I have some
sheets we could get under..." She moved slightly to the right as to guide him
to her house.
"Yeah...", he said nodding his head, "I feel like getting something sweet
for Hallowe'en." They both picked up the pace, and they arrived at her place
minutes later.
"Make yourself at home.", she called from the kitchen. "I'll make us some
drinks, and we can get to know each other." She walked back into the living
room a short while later with two cocktails in her hand. He took his drink
and toasted her.
"To things that go -bump- in the night...", he laughed as their glasses
met. "I was hoping I could take you out this weekend. But, I didn't think I
would be able to, so the guys and I were going to go to a bar in costume and
get blitzed. I was gonna dress up as a vampire. Were you planning on being
anything special for Hallowe'en?" She smiled and glanced at the clock as it
struck nine. She only had to wait for three more hours until Hallowe'en
REALLY began.
"I'm going to be a witch for Hallowe'en...", she whispered as she leaned
toward him and began nibbling on his earlobe. "Does that turn you on?", she
asked as his body began to tense up in response to her uninhibitedness.
"Yes," he whispered as he readjusted his tool in the confines of his
jeans, "I believe that I have a broomstick that you could ride...." Suddenly,
his vision faded, and he looked at the glass that lay limply in his hand. He
could still see a powdery residue in the bottom of the crystal, and his eyes
glanced at hers. Gone was the sweet, gentle expression of a horny collage
kid. The expression that she now wore was usually only seen on the faces of
men who were starving to death but had just been given a large steak dinner.
The realisation of what was taking place helped the sleeping powder push
him into unconciousness.
<Continued in the next message>
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