Spermamancy Theory and Practice - Cover

Spermamancy Theory and Practice

Copyright© 2023 by Maracorby

XVI

Fantasy Sex Story: XVI - Inspiration and theory only get you so far: creating a new spell also requires experimentation and practice. When that spell depends on semen, that means sucking a lot of dicks. People around town are beginning to notice 19-year-old Laurel, and so are the covens.

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Magic   Gang Bang   Anal Sex   Cream Pie   Double Penetration   Facial   Oral Sex   Sex Toys  

Sebastian’s lookout texted him - Laurel was leaving the party. He brought up her location on his phone, thanks to the GPS tracker he’d hidden on her car, and he waited. It was a remote road with woods on both sides. There was very little chance of any other traffic here at 4:50 in the morning, but he delayed as long as possible before laying out the police spike strip on the road.

She drove by and there were two pops and then the car veered erratically. He removed the spike strip and ducked into the woods to approach her crippled car unseen.

She had inspected the tires by the time he got close, and no doubt found them suspicious. She didn’t have enough sense to keep her back to the car, though, while she fished in her purse for her phone. He snuck up behind her and plucked the phone from her hand. At the same time, he held his bowie knife for her to see, trying to catch as much light as possible.

She spun around with a look of horror, of course. Then she ran, of course. Finally the fun part. He cut his hand and drew symbols in blood on the car, enchanting it with an aversion ward so that anyone who passed by wouldn’t stop to investigate.

He caught up with her in the woods. The idiot should have stuck to the road where there was at least a slight chance of help showing up, but this was probably her first time being chased by a killer. When he got within arm’s reach, he grabbed her by the sweater and slammed her into a tree. He took position in front of her, holding the knife to her throat, and said, “Hello there, pretty girl!” She didn’t scream, which was disappointing, but the expression on her face was almost as good.

She grabbed his crotch and tried to cast a Cupid’s Knockout, but of course, it didn’t work. Her eyes grew even wider. “You’re not human!” She began frantically looking around - in the trees, on the ground, everywhere except where she should be looking, which was his face. He decided to allow it.

He sniffed her. “Wow. I can’t make them all out. At least seven. How many men did you fuck tonight, little girl?” He cut her sweater open. “I’m jealous. When you look back on tonight, I want to be the one you remember. But with so many?” He lifted her skirt and rubbed the flat of his knife against her thigh. “I guess I’ll just have to be inventive.”

“Please! Why?” She begged, sobbing pathetically. She was making signs with her hands, but Sebastian had been around for a long time. The number of spells that could deter him in a situation like this was limited and he had taken precautions against all of them.

“Why?” He repeated. “Look at you! You wanted attention? Well, you’ve got my attention.” He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “You wanted to get fucked?” He chuckled menacingly instead of finishing the threat. For the hell of it, he grabbed a fist full of her hair and cut it, letting it scatter in the breeze. The amount of tension in her body was delicious - it looked like if he poked her, she’d burst like a water balloon.

She blurted out some words from a pidgin Gaelic tongue that was popular among English-speaking witches. He didn’t recognize the spell. She rushed, fearing he would stop her, but it was always so much more fun to watch their magic fail them. Then a curious thing happened. She reached her arm toward a puddle next to him, and, despite the tree cover, the full moon reflected in it. He lost his balance and fell to his knees. He tried to get up, but gravity seemed to shift and he toppled again. Every shift became more disorienting and more debilitating. It was like being a tiny boat being tossed around on hurricane seas. He glanced at the puddle as his head swam. It was the moon - somehow, in the middle of Montana, she had invoked the tides.


Okay, so Sebastian had underestimated the girl. She had some tricks he’d never seen - something that hadn’t happened in a long time. He had to laugh: captured by a teenager, a cripple, and a fag. They had stuffed him in the trunk of their car and taken him back to their home. Now they would try to dominate him. He hadn’t played this game in a long time, either.

They had tried physical torture first, of course. He laughed.

“It’s not working!” Laurel had whined.

“Like Patrick Swayze says, ‘pain don’t hurt’,” he taunted.

Then the old woman used a turkey baster to inject silver dust into a knife wound. Now that did hurt. But time was on his side.

They had put him in a circle in a shed next to the lake. The old woman and the witch-boy took turns watching over him, bolstering his prison. Every time Laurel came back, it was with a new spell or page full of questions. She looked more frazzled every time: her hair was a mess; her eyes were sunken and dark; she wasn’t sleeping or bathing. They couldn’t keep this up. Twenty-four more hours, tops, and he’d be free to finish his mission with the girl. He’d probably kill the others, too, for fun.


More people arrived - middle-aged or older. There were now six witches taking turns as his jailer, in probably two-hour shifts. This might be a problem. With enough competence and enough time, they might have the juice to banish him. Still, they were human - they had flaws to exploit if he could find them. He probed them each with questions, taunts, and pleas, and despite their intentions, they revealed their secrets bit by bit.

Occasionally they showed up in groups for rituals. They didn’t get flustered when they failed, which struck him as a bad sign. Laurel was rested and clean now, but she still looked beaten down. She wouldn’t look him in the eye. Would she be the one to break? She was quite the curiosity.


Sebastian was looking forward to Nancy’s next shift. He was finally getting somewhere with her: she had divided loyalties, and he needed to learn how strong of a lever that would make. A while before, the seven of them had sat in a circle around him chanting. It was an old Slavic ritual, but they had the words all wrong, so it was unclear what they hoped to accomplish.

Laurel, Jennifer, and Theo arrived and relieved the man standing guard. Laurel was wearing a white dress and a flower crown. Her hair was much shorter now - a pageboy haircut to repair the damage he’d done in the woods. Despite her virginal appearance, she had fresh dick on her breath.

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