Forbidden Ritual
Copyright© 2026 by Just Another Smut Writer
Chapter 10: Broken Desyre
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 10: Broken Desyre - Eighteen-year-old Evangeline doesn’t believe in witchcraft until, on Halloween, she casts a spell she’s not supposed to, and suddenly sex is in the air.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mind Control Reluctant Lesbian Heterosexual Magic Light Bond Rough Spanking First Masturbation Oral Sex Halloween AI Generated
Sophia and I scrambled into our costumes, fingers fumbling with zippers and straps. Neither of us bothered with underwear. I left off my wings; Sophia her cape. The red chiffon of her devil dress clung to her still-flushed skin; my white angel gown felt thin and useless against the cool air. We bolted downstairs, bare feet slapping wood.
The living room was nearly empty. My parents were ushering the last stragglers out the front door while Marcus stood guard like a silent sentinel. The moment the latch clicked behind the final guest, Mommy turned, eyes narrowing on us.
“Where have you two been?” she asked, voice deceptively mild.
Before either of us could answer, her gaze sharpened on my face. Something in my expression—flushed cheeks, glassy eyes, the way my thighs kept pressing together—made her mouth tighten.
“You’ve been messing with things you don’t understand, haven’t you?”
I tried to lie. The words died on my tongue. “I ... I found the book. I cast a spell.”
Mommy exhaled through her nose, long and tired. She turned to Sophia. “Go home, sweetheart. Evangeline and I need to talk.”
Sophia shot me a worried glance but obeyed, slipping out the door without another word. The moment it closed, Mommy’s attention locked on me again.
“Which spell?”
My voice came out small. “The desire spell. The one that makes someone want you.”
Her eyebrow arched. “And the warning on the page?”
“I read it. I just ... I wanted Marcus. He was here. That should count, right?”
Mommy’s laugh was short and sharp. “You foolish little girl. I gave you the key because tradition says a witch receives access to the family grimoire on her eighteenth birthday. I planned to begin your instruction after Halloween—after the veil thinned and the house was quiet. Instead you’ve unleashed something raw and unanchored.”
Heat flooded me again, worse than before. My nipples tightened painfully against the thin white fabric. Between my legs, a steady pulse throbbed. I shifted from foot to foot, thighs slick, and felt a warm bead of arousal slip free and trail down my inner thigh to drip onto the hardwood floor with an audible pat.
Mommy’s nostrils flared. “For fuck’s sake, you’re out of control.”
She stepped forward, shoved her hand through the slit in my dress, and drove three fingers straight into my dripping cunt. The sudden penetration punched a gasp from my throat. She fucked me hard and fast, knuckles grinding against my clit with every thrust, palm slapping wetly against my bare mound. My knees buckled. I came with a broken cry, pussy clenching and squirting around her fingers, more slick splattering the floor.
She withdrew her hand, wiped it on my dress, and met my dazed eyes.
“That’s what happens when desire isn’t anchored. The spell is making you crave sex constantly, and it radiates outward—anyone near you becomes infected with the same hunger. It won’t stop until we cast the counter-spell.”
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