How It All Started

I was well and thoroughly fucked, as I had never been fucked before.

But before I get into all that, I suppose introductions are in order. My name is Melody, short for Melodora if you must know. But don’t ever call me that, or you might just end up on my bad side. Just ask Sam, who made an abrupt career change from burglar to housecat. By the way, did I mention I’m a witch? I only bring it up now because that fact is of some relevance to the story I’m about to relate.

And don’t let my sweet-sounding name fool you – I’m no Glinda the Good Witch, going around in frilly outfits and a song in my heart helping lost farm girls in distress, but neither do I go around luring hapless kids into gingerbread houses, turning people into newts left and right for fun, or trying to take over the world (I do wear a lot of black, just because I look FABULOUS in that color). I do, however, frequently engage in activities that bend and break many of the ethical guidelines of both the human and witching worlds, a lot of which is described in the coming pages. Sometimes they’re done for a good reason, other times just for kicks. Consider yourself warned.

As you might suspect of dubious character like me, I have quite the array of vices, which will become obvious as you read on. I’ll go ahead and mention gambling up front, just because it’s really what started this whole mess. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the skill or luck to go along with the compulsion, and for the unquenchable thrill and rush of the games I often found myself deep in debt. Now if this was just normal human gambling with money as the stakes, it’d be no problem since there’s oodles of ways I could conjure that up without batting an eye, or batting a bat as they say in my world.

But no, in the magic world that you regular humans like to pretend doesn’t exist for the sake of your brittle sanity, the stakes are much higher – spells, magic talismans and the like, and I’ve even heard that some play for souls, even though I myself have never participated in such unspeakable activities (not when I was sober anyway, which I swear accounts for at least a good half of my earlier years).

But even when I found myself facing down an angry warlock or irate elf demanding that I pay up after I’d lost my shirt yet again (an unobstructed view of which you think would be payment enough, considering how impressive my rack is even by otherworld standards) all I’d have to do was pull some sort of enchanted trinket or potent spell out of the impressive collection my parents had left all to me (thanks to a little of that aforementioned ethical ambiguity on my part, pissing off my sisters and other relations to no end).

Anyhoo, I’d lost quite a few precious articles this way, but it was better than the grim fate that awaited all who didn’t pay up their gambling bills in a timely manner (think debt collectors in the human world, but a thousand times more vicious, and armed with deadly magic), and all in all it worked well for all concerned.

That is, until the day I made the mistake of playing with a real shit of a Sorcerer with a spiked wand up his backside and lost worse than I’d ever lost before. But I’d been more sloshed than usual that night, and I don’t have to tell you what alcohol does to your reasoning and decision-making capabilities.

“No, no, no,” he grunted, tossing aside the sheet I’d handed him that listed all of the spells and remaining items I had to pay off my ginormous debt with an air of disdain. “Your spells are interesting, but they lack the style and elegance I’m accustomed to, and I already possess superior forms of all your baubles. I’m afraid there’s nothing here of interest to me that would come close to paying off your sizeable debt.”

Sorcerers, such gods-damned snobs, I thought to myself, but not yet losing heart. “Perhaps there’s some other arrangement we can come to,” I said seductively, leaning forward and giving him a better view of my aforementioned shirtless and magnificent chest. I’d had to pay off a few times like this before, and even though I’d walked funny for a week after the Cyclops, it’d still been better than the alternative.

But the sorcerer, who called himself Melgius, only sneered through his carefully manicured goatee. “You severely underestimate my station, and my sense of self-worth, if you think I would ever dream of laying with a common witch whore.”

I bristled at that. I may not be very far up the magical ladder, not even considered worthy to join a coven (although that was more due to my colorful reputation than skill). But I was hardly common, I thought, giving a quick glance to my ample mounds, beautiful in that natural, pert, and pillowy way which not even spell work could duplicate so perfectly.

Not that my magical abilities were anything to scoff at either. I’d been mostly what you’d call home-schooled and self-taught, but even so I was willing to bet I could easily hold my own with this snoot, who’d spent the whole game bragging about how he’d graduated top of his class at the Academy. I probably would have too, if I hadn’t been kicked out for throwing an impromptu orgy in the Great Hall just when the Council for the Advancement of Moral Rectitude was scheduled to meet there.

Yes, I could take this little prick no problem, but the debt enforcer squad he’d no doubt send after me were another story. “Well, what do you want?” I asked, trying not to let my anxiousness to make a deal, any deal, show.

“One of the few items I have not yet been able to acquire, a Freithlon Stone.”

Gee, I thought sarcastically as my spirits sank, and here I’d thought King Assface was going to ask for something hard. I’d had one of these Stones, but it’d been among one of the first items I’d traded away. Very rare, and as I’d found out to my chagrin later, worth far more than the debt I’d paid off with it and the entire rest of my collection put together. So now what? I thought ruefully, having no idea where to find one or how to afford it even if I did.

Wait a minute, I thought with a surge of hope, hadn’t I seen a method for making one in of my dad’s older books way back in the super-rare-be-careful-because-this-is-probably-the-only-remaining-copy-in-existence volumes? Yes, I was sure of it, but I’d been busy perusing for info on some other doodad and hadn’t paid it much attention. But the fact was it existed was enough. After all, creation of magical objects had been one subject I’d excelled at in the Academy before my unjust dismissal.

“Alright,” I said, “Shall we set delivery for two standard earth months from today?” Even though we had our own systems of reckoning time, human measurements were still preferred since so much business was conducted in that realm and was where many of us magic practitioners, of human stock anyway, chose to call home. And given that most items took around a month or so to produce, I thought I’d try to give myself a little extra, just in case there were unforeseen difficulties with such a rare object. Plus, it’d be easy to remember, since it would be the day after my birthday. My birthday is Halloween, if you’re wondering.

“Oh, really?” he said, cocking an eyebrow, no doubt surprised at my confidence. “How? You are aware that Freithlon Stones are among the rarest of magical talismans, and that the working (what we call instructions for making magical objects) for creating them has been lost and forgotten?” He asked warily, no doubt thinking I was just blustering, buying time to get out of town, so to speak.

Not so lost as you think. “I’m well aware of their scarcity,” I said testily. “Just leave the details to me. I may be many things, Melgius, but I’m not a welcher. If you want a Freithlon Stone, then you’ll get one.”

Melgius regarded me for a long moment, before finally extending his hand. “Agreed,” he said. “One of the first tier, and absolutely nothing less,” he added firmly. “I don’t suppose I need to remind you of what will happen if you fail to deliver?”

Wait, there were different tiers? Fuck, I really needed to bone up on the finer details of my profession instead of watching so much daytime tv, I thought to myself as we shook on our arrangement. “I’m fully aware of the consequences. You’ll get your Freithlon Stone, first tier and on time,” I assured him.

“Very well. I’ll be in touch to let you know when and where I’ll take delivery,” and with that he was gone in a puff of smoke without so much as lifting a finger. Arrogant jackass, someone ought to turn him into one.

A short while later I was back home with my top back on, in my secret study and lab, adjacent to my regular study behind the obligatory secret door. I sat in a swivel chair at an old desk, flipping through ancient and musty books, searching for the magical working I needed when a sarcastic growling noise broke my concentration.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Melody pilfering her inheritance again. So, which of your family’s priceless and hard-won items and knowledge are you exchanging for your right to continue breathing this time, at least until the next poker match?” The voice asked sardonically.

I looked up irritably as Sam, the thief-turned-tabby, sauntered into the room with an air of casual feline arrogance. Normally I’d dust anyone who threatened me or my family without a second thought, but when I’d caught him breaking into our basement, he hadn’t shown the slightest trace of fear or aggression, only curiosity, even when it was obvious what I was when I flung him against the wall and immobilized him with a few words and a wave of my hand.

So, after talking with him and deciding he was not dangerous, only desperate, I let him live, albeit in this somewhat limited state. “Careful,” I warned him, irritated at being interrupted. “Or you might wake up a little lighter in the groin region.”

I didn’t know cats could chuckle, but Sam had found a way. “You could I suppose, but then who would you get to entertain you on those cold, lonely nights?”

That was the other reason I kept Sam around, for he was somewhat useful when I found myself in need of some ... companionship, which I needed a LOT of these days, which brings me to another (and probably favorite!) vice of mine – sex.

Sometimes, given my abundant needs and when I didn’t feel like going out and finding anyone to satiate my endless carnal cravings, I’ll change him back into a human and have him pleasure me in his own enthusiastic but mostly inadequate way. Seriously, I don’t think he even grasped the concept of the clitoris no matter how many times I explained it to him, usually leaving me to finish the job with my fingers and an enhanced vibrator.

But if sex was his only purpose, I’d have bounced him out the door long ago. But beyond that, it was nice to have someone around to talk to who wouldn’t disappear the next morning, and was interested in more than just banging me. He was quite intelligent, having been a grad student before dropping out and trying his hand at crime. He easily grasped the principles of magic, even if he couldn’t use any, making an excellent companion to bounce ideas and theories off.

Best of all, he seemed quite content in his life here with me, saying he had no one and nothing particularly special to get back to in his other life. Which was great, because more than anything he was my anchor, something I could cling to of this world in the mortal realm I’d built with my children, without which I’d long ago slipped back into a life of utter debauchery. If you think I’m bad now, you should have seen me in my youth!

So even though Sam and I can get a little carried away sometimes in the zingers we fling back and forth there was no real malice in them. “Literally anyone, or anything, whose cock I could actually feel, would be better,” I shot back to Sam, continuing our exchange. “Seriously, I think you have a bigger dick as a cat than a human.”

“Well, you could do something about that, you know,” he pointed out almost hopefully, “with a little of your hocus pocus.”

“Hey, I’m a witch, not a goddess. I can’t turn a bonsai into a redwood.”

“Well, how about making this bonsai’s day with a little quickie?” he said, wagging his eyes (another unusual feat for a feline), unfazed by my insult.

“Oh, go away and hack up a hairball for me to slip on later, I’m busy,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hand. But he just gave a shrug, or as close as he could get to it, before curling up on a nearby box and going to sleep. Whatever, as long as he’s quiet so I can focus, I thought as I turned back to my search, taking a sip of a special herbal tea designed to calm me, which just happened to be mixed in with a heavy dose of rum and coke for flavor.

It took over three hours and a growing sense of desperation that I’d only imagined seeing the working for the Freithlon Stone before, that Melgius would take his payment out of my sweet ass or incredible bosom instead, the concept of a pound of flesh quite literal in my world. Yes, vanity is yet another of my flaws, but when you look as good as me considering the ways I’d abused my body in the past, you have a right to a little self-appreciation every now and then. But I knew that the sorcerer and the debt squad he no doubt already had on standby wouldn’t just stop with me, unfortunately.

Anyhoo I panicked for nothing, for I soon discovered the working for the Stone near the very end of the very last book on the shelf. I know, it figures right? But I dismissed my irritation as I ran my hand along the page, just to make sure it was real, feeling more relieved than someone who’s just had their first orgasm after a five-year sex drought. I let out a loud squeal of joy, clapping gleefully and waking up Sam. “I found it, the working for the Freithlon Stone! It’s here!”

“Great, fabulous, terrific,” Sam yawned. “By the way, what’s a Freithlon Stone?”

Quickly I read through description at the top. “What I need to pay of my debt. It doesn’t say here what it does exactly, just that they are very powerful and should be used with caution, and then describes what each of the three tiers should look like when finished.” Odd, I thought, though I was glad to discover that the stone I’d carelessly given away before was just a third-tier, the least powerful and valuable of the bunch.

But then as I delved into the actual instructions, my joy evaporated faster than Sam’s chances of ever satisfying a woman. “Shit!” I cursed, slamming my fists down on the desk, making Sam start. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

“I take it there’s a fly in your KY jelly?” Sam remarked.

“More like a fucking hornet’s nest,” I grumbled, burying my face in my hands.

“What is it? Expensive hard-to-find materials? Complex spell work? Intricate, mind-numbing ritual?”

I looked up at him, glad at least to have someone to share my frustration with, even if it was just a hairy, horny sack of fleas that enjoyed licking his own scrotum. “No, all of that’s relatively straightforward, it’s what comes after that’s the problem. That damned Melgius, bastard fucking son of a diseased cunt! He couldn’t ask for a third or possibly even second tier, oh no, it had to be a fuckin’ first tier Stone! GRRRAAARRRGGGGHHHH!” I shouted in frustration as I shook my arms in the air, knowing I had no one to blame but myself for this predicament.

“You lost me,” he said, completely unperturbed by my outburst.

I sighed, running a hand through my wavy honey blonde hair. “Whichever one you make, the spell, ritual, and materials remain pretty much the same, the only real difference lies in what comes after. That’s when you put on the Stone and participate in one of three ‘frowned-upon’ sexual situations to prime it, which is how the Freithlon Stone gets its name, derived from the Welsh word for illicit. And all must involve one man and one woman, something about the balance of opposite energies.”

“Oh, sounds spicy,” Sam commented, licking his lips. “Do go on.”

I swallowed. “I won’t get into the second or third tier Stone requirements, because they’re irrelevant. But to achieve a first-tier Stone like the one our sorcerer friend wants, I’ll have to join in a ... a ... shared blood union.”

“Huh? What does that mean?”

“Incest, you stupid cat!” I shouted, losing hold of my temper at being forced to say the word aloud. “I’ll have to have sex with someone in my family.”

“Is that all?” he said, looking almost relieved. “I thought it involved something like a live sacrifice or something.”

“It may as well!” I exclaimed, exasperated by his indifference to what I considered an issue of dire importance. “Aren’t you a little bit rattled by the idea of coupling with a relative?! It’s gross.”

“This? Coming from you?” He scoffed. “And no, it’s really quite tame, especially compared with some other things I’ve bore witness to as your houseguest,” he said, yawning. “And speaking from personal experience, it’s actually kinda hot. I banged my second cousins at a family reunion once. Or were they third?” he asked himself, considering. “No, they were second cousins and I banged them three times. Yeah, that sounds right.”

“Wh-what?” I asked, flabbergasted by this admission but also slightly turned on. “You never told me that.”

“Did you ever ask me?” Sam snapped testily. “All I ever hear lately from you is Sam, get down here and eat your damn food before I throw it to the raccoons or Sam, get up here and fuck me before I cut your shrimp dick off! Anyways, all I’m saying is just find a distant relation and screw one of them if you’re so set on getting this stupid Stone. After all, considering your ... bountiful sexual energy—”

“Hey,” I countered, “is it my fault that I just happen to love sex and be one of those witches that gets super horny when they use magic?” And I’m not using hyperbole here. Hell, at one time I was approached by the Succubus Guild, asking if I’d like to become an honorary member.

“Look, all I’m trying to say is, that someone with your talents, it should be easy to find some distant relation to get it on with, right?”

“Wrong,” I corrected. “You see, the rules are a little different with the highest-level Stone. It can’t just be any male relative, it has to be a man in your immediate family.”

Sam considered. “As I understand it, that means someone like a grandfather, father, uncle, son, brother, son, or first cousin, right? I still don’t see why you’re suddenly being so shy about this, just pick the one you fancy and have at it. Problem solved, and they’ll probably enjoy it if you family is anything like you,” he remarked drily. “I mean, I watched you bang a tree-man in the backyard, for fuck’s sake!”

“You don’t see the problem? Fine, I’ll lay it out for you,” I said. “My remaining grandfather is currently trapped in an alternate dimension for pissing off a powerful wizard by selling him a bad potion that made his beard fall off. My father is dead, killed by a freak yak stampede in western China searching for more of his precious trinkets. My only uncle died childless after an accident involving alcohol, a speeding broom, and a rather large oak. My only aunt took a vow of celibacy, Gods know why, so that means no first cousins. I have three sisters, but my only brother is ... gone,” I said quietly, not elaborating. “So that just leaves my nephew, but he’s underage.”

“Wait a minute,” he said, recalling something. “You left out your son. It took me a minute to recollect with this tiny cat brain, but what about Tim, the one that’s at college right now? Yeah, I remember now, because I’m not allowed to talk when he’s nearby, or rather, you zip my mouth closed so I can’t. Why not him? He’s of age, and from what I’ve seen he loves you and he’d be willing to help.”

“I can’t,” I said firmly.

“Why not? Once he understands what’s at stake—”

“I just can’t, okay?” I snapped, feeling my matronly and protective side, which had been keeping a low profile since my kids had gone off to school, reassert itself at the reminder of Tim. “He’s such a kind, gentle soul that’s brought so much joy and love to me, to our family. But I know him better than anyone, Sam, and I can say with confidence that he would never go along with this.”

“What makes you so sure?”

I sighed. “Well, for one thing he doesn’t know about magic, or that I’m a witch, so that makes even explaining the situation difficult.”

“Are you serious?” Sam gaped. “Why the hell not?”

“Because Tim, unlike my girls, was born completely without magic. It was odd, since both I and his father, Tovenar, had the gift. Anyway, to avoid rousing resentment or envy in him that could cause a rift in our family we, the girls and I, decided early on not to mention or use magic in his presence.”

“Ah, I see. That must have been difficult.”

I smiled wanly. “You have no fucking idea. But I love Tim dearly, we all do, and were happy to make the sacrifice. It was even fun sometimes, learning to do mundane things like clean and cook with my hands.” The smile vanished. “I don’t have many lines in my life, Sam, you know that as well as anyone, but hurting Tim and ruining his life is one I absolutely refuse to cross.”

“You would pick now to grow a conscience, wouldn’t you?” he asked drily. “Even so, it doesn’t have to be as life-scarring as you’re making it out to be. If you’re so sure he won’t help out willingly, then use your mystic wiles to seduce and have your way with him.”

My jaw dropped. “Out of the question, even if I didn’t think it was an atrocious idea! The instructions clearly say magic can’t be used to compel compliance in the working.”

“Fine, then just use your natural charms then. They seem to work well enough.”

“I can’t do that either!”

“Sure you can,” he said calmly. “I’ve seen you do it many times, with males of many different persuasions, none of which seemed to regret it afterwards, I might add. Just think of it as giving biology a hand – you’re a reasonably attractive female with an unquenchable thirst for sex, and he’s a young male nearing his sexual peak as a plain ol’ human. If you two just met randomly in a bar without knowing your familial relationship, you’d probably go at it like wild dogs without a second thought, especially given your penchant for younger men. All you’d be doing is breaking down those moral and societal barriers we humans seem to like putting up just to make life more difficult.”

I bit my lip, considering Sam’s words. For a would-be thief turned house pet he sure had some interesting insights, and I had to admit I found his line of reasoning intriguing. But I wasn’t yet convinced. “Perhaps, but there’s more to it than the not knowing about magic thing. I have no idea where he picked it up, certainly not from me, but he’s also a bit ... morally rigid.”

“A prude?” Sam offered in his usual direct manner.

“Yes, I suppose, if you get right down to it,” I conceded. “So even if I somehow got him into bed, he’d feel guilty about it the rest of his life, and most likely would never want to see or speak to me again.”

“Easy, just wipe his memory afterwards. You’ve done it before to average joes like me who’ve seen or heard too much for their rational minds to handle, like that deliveryman who almost crapped his pants when he inadvertently saw you wave your hand and restore a fallen tree after a storm. Like you’ll probably do to me when you finally let me go, should you find it in that shriveled heart of yours to ever do so.

“So, do the hot and sweaty with him however you have to, all night if you want just to be sure, then remove all traces of it from his mind. Everyone lives, and he’ll get on with things completely ignorant of just how ... close ... he got with his dear sweet mommy, and you’ll have another juicy entry in that sexual conquests journal I know you keep. It’s getting rather thick these days, although I couldn’t help but notice my name is conspicuously absent from its pages.”

“Because like amusement park rides, there’s a height requirement for admission,” I muttered absently, my mind elsewhere. I couldn’t deny the way Sam was describing the proposed seduction of my son was getting me hot in the loins, my heart quickening as my thighs rubbed together. And you’re probably beginning to suspect by now that I get a massive charge out of engaging in activities that have an air of danger or illicitness about them, especially when it comes to sex. And in both the human and magical realms few things were as proscribed and taboo as incest, especially among close relations. Which probably explains why these Freithlon Stones are so rare, the working for it tucked away in an obscure and forgotten grimoire.

Suddenly images of me ripping Tim’s clothes off and sampling that delectable forbidden fruit underneath surged in my mind, firing the building heat between my legs. But then I did something I rarely do – pushed my lewd thoughts away and actively suppressed my baser urges. I even felt slightly ashamed of myself, a concept I did not have a great deal of experience with. “It’s not that easy,” I said when I’d finally collected myself, although my voice was still husky with lust.

Sam made some sort of noise that I interpreted as exasperation. “Okay, why not this time?”

“Because the closer a person is to you, the trickier and more erratic spellcasting gets, especially for complex spells like mind sweeping. And for intense memories, such as having sex with his mom, well, things get even thornier. Flashes could remain in his head, and without context he’d be unable to make sense of them, which could lead to some serious psychological shit that would really mess him up.” Hey, I’ll admit I may not be versed in the finer points of my profession, but I knew the important stuff. “Not to mention I would retain the memories, and would be reminded of what I’d done every time I saw him. I don’t know if I could live with myself if I did that.”

His incredulous expression indicated that he didn’t think that there was much I couldn’t live with. He was probably right, but not in this case. “Okay, let’s try this,” he pressed, “give the working to someone else, let them make the Stone.”

I stared at him as if an erect cock had just sprang out of his forehead. “Are you nuts? Who could I trust to make the Stone, then give it back to me? I still don’t know what this stone does exactly, but whatever it is, it must be something incredible. Therefore, it would be incredibly tempting to someone to keep it, especially when it’s not their life on the line. And from the way Melgius talked, this may well be the only copy of the working in existence. If I shared or even hinted that it existed, who knows how far it would spread and how many of these Stones would end up out there being used for gods know what?”

Sam let out a long, resigned breath, shaking his head. “Okay, I quit. The way I see it, given the circumstances you’ve only got two options. One – you seduce your son, and do all you can to make sure he comes out as unscathed and untraumatized as possible. That way at least everyone will be alive to deal with any fallout. Or two – wake up one day to find yourself and all those you care about dead for nonpayment of debt. Even me, Mr. Tiny Dick.”

And with that he jumped off the box and strutted out of the room, tail high in the air so his ass was on full display, an obvious indication of what he thought of the whole stinking cesspool I’d gotten us all into.

I sat brooding, alone, behind the desk in my regular study, listening to the steady tick tock of the nearby grandfather clock. The ancient tome with its cursed working was sitting in front of me on the desk, mocking me with its heavy, unwanted presence. There was no way in heaven, hell, or any place in between that Tim would go along with what I was asking of him. He was generally loose and easygoing, but steadfastly rigid in some areas. Morality for one, preferring to see the world in black and white instead of shades of gray. Incest was wrong, against the law and almost all moral codes, and that was the end of it, I could hear Tim’s admonishing voice already ringing in my ears.

I leaned back in my chair. Even if I sat down with my son tomorrow and revealed that I was a witch, and that magic was real, showing him proof, he’d dismiss it all as special effects. And then when I calmly explained that he and I had to have sex to survive, he’d chalk it up to a deranged mother who’d finally allowed her rampant sexual urges (which he’d unfortunately learned about, although I’d tried really hard to keep that aspect of my life from my kids) to drive her over the edge into forbidden depravity and demented imaginings, and disregard my dire warning of mystical and merciless money collectors coming to wipe us from the face of the earth as nothing more than a dark fairy tale, concocted for the purpose of slaking her forbidden lusts and dragging him into her demented fantasy world. Hell, I’d be lucky if he didn’t call the cops on me.