I

The doorbell rang and Theo went to answer it.

Jennifer watched Laurel squirm while she waited. She felt bad about whatever the young prodigy would soon endure. Laurel possessed both a highly intuitive grasp of the secret mechanisms of the world and a talent for the human constructs used to articulate, manipulate, and bind them. She freely floated from one point of view to another without getting hung up: if metaphor wasn’t useful she would switch to melody or geometry without a second thought. And yet, for all of Laurel’s genius, she was hobbled by her insecurity, anxiety, and naivete.

Laurel rose to her feet when Theo brought the guests into the living room. The crutches leaning against Jennifer’s chair made it clear that her refusal to stand wasn’t a slight.

“Olivia Ripley and Benedict Wilson from the Rocky Mountain Coven,” Theo announced. He gestured and they sat on the couch. Laurel sat back in her chair with her legs folded under her and Theo sat on the floor in front of her.

Olivia couldn’t have been more than a year or two past forty. She was dressed in a smart gray pencil skirt and blazer with a red satin blouse underneath - the kind of outfit one would see in a corporate acquisition meeting. She moved with graceful confidence, and when she sat down, she crossed her legs in a way that seemed calculated to send a message, although Jennifer didn’t know what that message was. The coven hadn’t sent their wisest scholar or a member of their council; they had sent a recruiter.

Benedict, on the other hand, was a honey trap. He was in his mid-twenties, with blue eyes and full golden hair. He was wearing a jacket and slacks, but Jennifer had no doubt that beneath his clothes he had a body that belonged in a Hollywood beach volleyball scene. His face was kind; his demeanor attentive. He looked like an ad agency had been told to invent someone who embodied “benevolent masculinity”. Jennifer wondered if he had been chosen as a result of research on Laurel’s tastes in men.

“I can’t thank you enough for granting us this demonstration,” Olivia said, sweeping her gaze across the room and stopping to make eye contact with each member of Laurel’s team.

“Laurel is generous to a fault,” Jennifer answered and smiled insincerely.

Olivia leaned forward and focused all of her attention on Laurel. “I’m sure you know, but the whole mage community is in awe of what you and your companions are accomplishing here. It’s exciting and inspiring. You are inspiring! And if your Spermamancy lives up to even a fraction of our expectations, you will be changing the world!”

She sat upright once again, addressing the room. “I know that Jennifer here has a fiercely independent nature and a healthy skepticism about our coven. Your mother did too, and I respect that. I’m glad that we all agree that the importance of this development transcends petty philosophical differences.”

“Have you ever noticed,” Jennifer grumbled, “that it’s only ever the dominant party who dismisses differences as ‘petty’?” Olivia gave her a respectful nod of acknowledgment.

“You knew my mom?” Laurel asked.

“I only had the pleasure of meeting her twice,” Olivia said, “but a woman like Clover Monroe-Reiser isn’t quickly forgotten. She talked about you, you know. She was so proud to watch you grow - both as a mage and as a young woman.” She looked around at all the faces watching her. “I could go on and on, but I don’t wish to abuse Jennifer’s hospitality.”

A well-baited hook, Jennifer mused. She wondered whether any of it was true.

“Perhaps now’s a good time to begin the demonstration,” Jennifer suggested.

“Oh, wonderful! Yes!” Olivia said. “If you wish, Benedict here would be happy to participate in whatever in whatever way you require.”

“Um, yes. Thank you,” Laurel said. She walked to the end table, picking up a deck of children’s alphabet flashcards. “Is there something in particular you’d like me to scry on? We’ve been using these. They’ve got colors and shapes and letters.” She timidly handed the deck to Olivia. “You can shuffle them and I can forecast the top card. Or, if you’d like something else...”

Olivia took the cards from Laurel as if being given a precious gift. “These will do wonderfully. Thank you.” She briefly inspected the cards, shuffled them, and set them back on the end table.

Laurel moved to a blanket in the middle of the room and gestured to Benedict. He joined her and they looked at each other. “Hi,” she said and waved with her fingers.

“Miss,” he said, nodding politely.

She looked like a slip of a girl before him. Her body was lean but unathletic, giving an adolescent sheen to her young woman’s shape. Often Jennifer had thought that she would look more natural riding a bike or skipping down a beach rather than burying her head in piles of books or performing fellatio.

She took a scrunchie from her wrist and made a ponytail out of her lustrous hair. It was a lovely auburn: rich reds hidden among the brown, revealed at the whims of light. She never seemed to appreciate how beautiful it was though: she had occasionally lamented not being a “real redhead” like her mother.

She lowered herself to her knees and took off her T-shirt, leaving her bare-chested. After glancing around nervously, her hands moved part-way toward Benedict’s pants, but then she stopped. She asked, “May I?”

“Yes ma’am,” the coven’s man-candy answered.

Laurel took a deep breath and pulled down his pants. His erection wasn’t anything unusual: average-sized, hard, and straight. To Jennifer’s sensibilities, it was quite appealing. Laurel took it in her mouth and began pleasuring him. There were no sounds except the occasional lip-smack or saliva-slurp, and the occasional soft murmur that she probably made unconsciously. She kept one hand on the floor in front of her while the other handled his balls or shaft.

Olivia’s full attention was on the sex-act, and of course, the accompanying magical manifestations. Theo watched just as intently. Laurel’s eyes stayed mostly closed, but she periodically glanced upward to check in with her partner. Sometimes, instead, she would glance nervously at the people watching her. Benedict mostly looked at nothing in particular, but sometimes he smiled at Laurel and occasionally stole a glance at Theo.