Chapter 1

“Alright, birthday boy. Time for your cake and your candles, and you know what that means, don’t you?” Aunt Tessa turned to me, a smile very wide on her face, being the hostess of my fifteenth birthday party.

When my aunt hugged me, she made a special point of pressing me close to her rather impressive bosom, for reasons that I had to wonder about, of course. Granted, she was my favorite aunt and I enjoyed being with her more than I did with my parents, but she sometimes did things that were a bit curious or puzzling. I also noticed that since her divorce, her ex-husband had stayed very much away from the house, not even trying to win her back or move back in at all. This was odd, given that Uncle Daryl had threatened repeatedly before the divorce that he would try to get both, whatever it took.

For that matter, I noted that Dad always seemed very uncomfortable in the ancestral home, and Aunt Tessa was his own sister! I didn’t know what was behind that, but I knew that there were some ... things about the place that always felt a bit odd or weird, even to me. I just wasn’t terrified of them, not like he was, for reasons that still escaped me. I was curious, as I noted, but never nervous or anxious or worried about it. Aunt Tessa’s house was, at times, more of a home than my folks’. I wasn’t too sure what was behind all of this discomfort, but I was sure to get to the bottom of it someday, I told myself. I had no idea of just how literally right I would prove to be about that.

Trying to get my mind off such things, I used my typical mental exercise for escape, which was to imagine things that simply could not be. If I indulged such fantasies, I reasoned, suspending my disbelief and my knowledge that magic wasn’t real, I would be able to get my troubles off my mind for at least a time. It worked for children and movie audiences and readers, so why not for a precocious teenage boy with plenty of family dysfunction? Said family issues, incidentally, were so bad that I didn’t mind sharing my birthday every year with the annual family reunion, just to spend time with my aunt and dilute my parents’ company with that of her and my three female cousins.

Reaching into my own soul, mind, and my heart of hearts, I thought of something so extreme, so bizarre, in fact, that there was just no way that it could ever come true. Even so, I didn’t speak it, more because it was a bit strange even for an oddball and nerd like me. Let’s face it, yes, I was a nerd. I got along with my two brothers, one a jock, the other a religious zealot, about as well as any of my sort did, which was not at all. I got along with my two sisters, who were popular types, even less so.

That wasn’t even counting my frustratingly dense Aunt Eliza, or, for that matter, my rather preachy Uncle Jethro. Yes, that’s right. Mom’s brother was named Jethro, just like from the Beverly Hillbillies (okay, the Bible, too, but don’t get me started on THAT work of fiction). Then there were my other cousins, such as: Mitchell, a preacher in training, already going to Bible college; Roy (picture a weird cross between Ray Romano and Kirk Cameron, with a healthy dose of BTK tossed in for fun); Eddie, a wannabe missionary who seemed doomed to remain a deacon, possibly due to a serious shortage of maturity; and Gordon, the only decent one of them, but that was probably just because of his Down Syndrome.

Oddly enough, Gordon was the only one of them blessed with musical talent, though not for lack of trying on everyone else’s part. They labeled him “special” or “slow,” but none of them could play the violin: Gordon could put any other fiddler that I knew in person to shame. Sure, he couldn’t sing without going off key, but he could rosin up the bow and tear up the strings like nobody’s business.

Anyway, back to the matter at hand, I inhaled deeply, and then exhaled just as much, knowing that there was no turning back after this if it actually happened. Of course, there was the real risk that I’d be punished for even thinking it. Even so, I didn’t take much stock in religion of any sort, so I went for broke. If they were right, I was going to burn in Hell forever, anyway.

I wish that I immediately had dominion or possession over whatever I audibly claimed. There, I did it. I would either be the same old crazy, silly nerd boy ... or lord of all that I surveyed in short order. I had nothing to lose except my soul, and that already seemed at risk in the first place, judging by the way that I was brought up. I might even prove to be that Antichrist fellow that they warned against, though I doubted it.

“So, what did you wish for?” Eddie asked me, knowing that if I told him, the legend said that it wouldn’t come true.

“I can’t tell you, just in case. You know that,” I chided him, but he kept at it, not leaving me alone.

After a short bit, I was very annoyed with Eddie, so I snapped, “Okay, dickwad, your ass is mine now! I’m going to make you wish...”

I stopped short of that sentence, because suddenly, Eddie’s pants fell down and the words, “Property of Nicholas Durant” abruptly appeared on his bare butt. This was in plain English, too, in front of the entire family. Everyone stood there, aghast, as they realized that my words had simply enforced themselves, with nothing else causing this phenomenon. It had worked, I thought to myself, realizing that my crazy fantasy had become very real within minutes of my wish. Since Eddie had a fiancee, Sammie Jo Carson, this was very awkward indeed, especially given that both of them had taken a “purity pledge” to abstain from premarital sex.

“What the hell just happened?” Roy was first to break the silence, of all people.

“Apparently, I got some new super power or skill. Maybe I should test its limits, try it on for size. So, in that spirit, your left hand belongs to me now, Roy Rowan,” I chuckled as the same words appeared in blood on Roy’s left hand, “From now on, my southpaw friend, you need my permission to even box. This should get very interesting indeed, don’t you agree? I now own parts of two different people.”

Everyone seemed horrified by this new development, especially my parents, who often stopped fighting each other only long enough to pick on or annoy or whatever to me. Walther and Fawn Durant, for whatever reason, had been pains more than parents, at least in my eyes. They meant well enough, I guessed, but they strongly preferred my siblings to me ... all of them. I was their middle child and their least favorite, too. Abner and Joab Durant were, at least together, Dad’s ideal son, religious and athletic all at once.

That was even true of Katie and Mara Durant, my younger twin sisters, Katie being a cheerleader for her junior high school, Mara being on the student council. I was pretty sure that I must be a surviving twin, because Mom tended to make twins and I was the only one not a twin, which added to my isolation.

One person that didn’t show any horror at the abrupt change of status or position, the exchange or transfer of power from my parents to me, was Aunt Tessa. In fact, judging from the sneaky smile and the devilish wink that she gave me now, she was all in favor of this reversal of fortune. She didn’t seem too surprised by it, either. What the hell was going on, anyway?

“Son, I don’t know where you’re getting these powers, but they don’t come from God. If you’re ... using the ancestral magic of our people, well, that’s not of God. That’s of Satan. All magic is. It’s real and it’s always evil!” Dad preached at me again, never one to be pleased at anything of benefit to me.

“Our ... people, Dad? Just what do you mean? What people do we belong to, anyway? Mom, Dad, Aunt Tessa, guys, time to ‘fess up. What secrets are you hiding from me and my siblings, anyway?” I insisted upon knowing, much to their discomfort.

“The ... uh ... Roma people, Nick. We’re Romany. What the gadje call ‘gypsies,’ nephew. Yes, there is magic in our bloodline, in our veins. However, unless we actually use that magic, it tends to weaken and atrophy in terms of its power. That’s what has happened with your Bible thumping parents. Your father swore me to secrecy, but I can’t keep it a secret anymore, can I? Since they got religion, they’ve turned into something very ugly, very alien to us.

“I put a blessing on you of sorts, one where your birthday wish on this birthday, at least, would be granted, whatever it might be. I had a variety of reasons, and no, I didn’t know what you would wish, but I must admire your clever choice. I was curious to see what would happen, but I also honestly wanted you, as my favorite nephew, to get what you wished. I knew that you wouldn’t expect it to happen for real, but I wanted to see what you desired in your heart, soul, and mind.

“Yes, I’m what some would call a witch. A Roma witch. That’s part of why your father always feels a little uncomfortable coming here, for fear of my power. Which is telling, don’t you think? It shows that, for all of his belief and faith in that god of his, he knows instinctively that my power is the real thing. He knows that he can’t simply exorcise his way out of dealing with it.

“I will tell you something else. I know that you’re his least beloved child, but do you know why? Because you’re curious, like me. Because you have a keen mind and an aptitude for the ancient craft of our people. He also doesn’t like how well we click. He fears that very much, that you will someday be like me. He fears that you’ll start putting hexes and curses on people, just as I did with my ex-husband, the one who tried to steal my home when we divorced.

“That was a death curse, by the way. Daryl knows that if he sets foot in this house, he will die horribly, in terrible agony. The same thing goes if he tries to woo me or force me to return to him. A curse works a lot better than a restraining order, I can tell you that much. He’ll never strike me again. Yes, that’s why we ended it, because he was violent and abusive, but now he doesn’t dare. Funny how that goes, right?

“Oh, Walther, Fawn, quit your cringing! It’s just a spiritual power that you denied yourselves. It’s not my fault that you turned your backs on the ways of our forefathers. It’s not my fault that you turned to something ... else. However, since your middle child is very much Roma on both sides, and since I have already been influencing him, it was only a matter of time before he turned his back on you and your god.

“So, my dear boy, now you know the truth, or the most important parts of it, at least. You, too, can be a Roma witch. Men have that ability, just as women do. Become one of us. Become a necromancer, a soothsayer, a wizard, a warlock, whatever term you wish to use for it. It won’t cost you your soul. You won’t end up burning in Hell, contrary to what they believe. What you will do is increase and magnify and hone your power until you are a very feared and powerful sorcerer indeed,” Aunt Tessa went on before pausing to catch a breath.

“This is evil, Tessa. This is very Satanic ... That’s it. We’re going home and we’re never coming back! The rest of you can do what you wish, but we’re going home. Come on, Nick, that includes you,” Dad started to grab me, making me laugh.

“I’m not going anywhere, and from now on, you will not grab or seize me, because your fingers are mine now,” I told Dad, watching with delight as each of his fingers suddenly had the inscription that was already on Roy’s left and both of Eddie’s buttocks, “That should make your future rather interesting, as now when I will it, I can make your fingers act independently of your mind.”

I demonstrated my new power by deciding that I wished for Dad to pull up Sammie Jo’s sundress and yank down her panties. In spite of his obvious disgust with himself for doing so, Dad’s fingers pulled him in that direction and did just that. I laughed as I then willed his fingers to prie her cheeks apart and ease one digit into her pussy while the other entered her asshole.

Sammie Jo was already frozen by shock, but this startled her with her unexpected shiver of pleasure as I determined that Dad would actively finger both holes in front of us. He looked very ashamed of himself and Mom looked very jealous, not to mention angry, as did Eddie. Even so, they watched for a moment in fascination, as did the rest of us, as the Reverend Walther Durant digitally penetrated Sammie Jo’s once virgin orifices. She moaned and squirmed, but clearly enjoyed every second of it, certainly with more abandon than Dad showed while he probed her holes. He had a boner, but he was also quite red in the face for it.

“By the way, Sammie Jo, I claim your breasts and Mitchell’s mouth. Dad, finish removing Sammie Jo’s clothes and then return to fingering her holes. Mitchell, start sucking her tits the moment that she’s naked. Admit it, guys. Those mounds deserve licks and kisses, don’t they? Look at how nice a pair she has!” I commanded, causing a threesome to emerge, as my father and my first cousin took liberties with my other cousin’s fiancee.

“Alright, now, Aunt Eliza, your pussy is mine from now on. So are Uncle Jethro’s cock and balls. That should reduce any issues from what I’m about to do,” I declared, causing both of them to end up half-naked with my name inscribed on their private parts, “Aunt Eliza, fuck me now as I sit down,” I added as I dropped my pants and sat back down.

Aunt Eliza couldn’t help herself, and in fact, I could smell something different from the moment that I instructed her to ride my dick. As she took my virginity, my aunt, never one to be very bright, at least had the good sense to not worry about what she did or express any guilt over it. Instead, she just threw herself into the act, coupling with me in a way that hinted that she had perhaps secretly craved me all along. Even though I hadn’t claimed her ass yet, she didn’t resist my hands as they roamed to that part of her anatomy, either.

“You like this, don’t you?” I confronted my aunt in front of everyone, “You like fucking your nephew by marriage.”

“No ... I love this! Sorry, Jethro, but ever since your nephew turned thirteen, for the past two years, I’ve wanted to jump his bones. Now I have ... and it feels amazing! Sorry, but I can’t help it and I’m glad that you own my pussy now! Please don’t neglect it! Please use it a lot! It’s wrong, it’s a sin, but I can’t help it! I want my nephew’s dick inside my cunt!” Aunt Eliza shocked me with the extent of both her profanity and her lust.

“Very well, then. For the next month, Uncle Jethro, you’re not allowed to fuck Aunt Eliza at all. You are denied your conjugal rights. Is that clear? Eliza, you’re not to let him anywhere close to your pussy. Is that understood? Consider it a suspension of your marriage for one month, mostly because you’ve irritated me, Uncle Jethro, far too much.