Sex Magick

by Tom Raimbault

  But it wasn't Amber who Daren waited for! In some twisted fantasy he now imagined himself as Amber's husband who also adopted her beautiful daughter. In all the filthy websites he visited, Daren often wondered what it was like to marry another woman who had a totally-hot teenage daughter. Such a circumstance would be likened to inheriting an additional sex partner to help spicen up the love life. For that matter, Daren suddenly fancied himself as Trista's stepfather, and had every intention of launching an illicit and underage affair with her.

  Just then, the key could be heard opening the front door.

  Daren remained seated with a calm face, perhaps smiling to himself on the inside.

  Seconds later, Trista walked through the front door and was surprised; not exactly happy at Daren's presence.

  “Hi there! Welcome home!” greeted Daren. He remained on the couch.

  “Where's my mom?” asked Trista.

  “Oh, she's not here. I assume she'll be home in a little bit.”

  Trista softly sighed and shook her head in disgust. What was Daren doing there? And just how safe could she feel being alone with someone so creepy? Trista would definitely have a word with Mother, later.

  “So do you always get home from school this late?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Well it's after five o'clock. That's kind of late for coming home from school.”

  Trista removed her coat and pulled off her boots. “I have orchestra practice plus I stopped at the library afterwards.”

  “The library? Why? And were you with anyone?”

  That's when Trista decided it was time to draw the line and set some boundaries. “That's none of your business! And don't you have a wife waiting for you at home?”

  Daren laughed and stood up. “Trista, Trista! What's the problem? Why get so defensive?” Then he approached Trista while continuing, “I was just concerned about you, that's all. Your mother and I are getting close, and naturally I see you as my daughter. Is that such a bad thing?” Now close to Trista, Daren rested his hand on her shoulder.

  Trista jerked her shoulder away and walked around Daren to get to the kitchen. This was not good! Apparently Daren felt it every bit his right to invade Trista's personal life, even touch her.

  Slowly and carefully Daren followed some distance behind and watched Amber's daughter with such vile lust in his heart. She was his, as far as Daren was concerned, and seconds from being taken right there!

  But it was the sound of the garage door opening that put an end to a soon-to-be dangerous moment. Amber was home; Mother was now here to protect her girl from Daren. He had no choice but to walk back towards the family room and wait for his fantasy wife to enter the house. Sex with a fantasy stepdaughter must be done in secret for fantasy wives don't appreciate that sort of thing.

  Moments later Amber finally entered the house and was delighted to see Daren standing there and waiting to see her. “Hi” Amber greeted.

  “Hey, welcome home!” Daren approached and kissed Amber on the lips. “How was your day?”

  “It's better now that you're here.”

  In the kitchen Trista privately stuck her finger in her mouth with tongue partially extended to mimic gagging. It was the most ridiculous thing she ever heard Mother say. It nearly nauseated her to observe Mother carry on the fantasy game of husband and wife with Daren.

  The two could be heard approaching the kitchen. Not very far Mother finally announced, “Well, I suppose I better start dinner. I've got some pork chops thawing and can broil those up. What do you say? Sounds good?”

  But Daren wasn't one hundred percent committed to the husband/wife and stepdaughter game. He had a real wife at home who would expect him to be there. “Actually, I've got to get going—get ready for an upcoming business trip.” It was a lie, of course. The truth would be too harsh. “Maybe next time.” And with that, he kissed Amber, grabbed his coat and walked out the door.

  Amber sighed. Needless to say, she was not happy. Men were always so mysterious and seemed to play confusing games. The same thing happened with Trista's biological father, Jim (biological through a similar game of powerful fantasy now played with Daren). Recall that he came over for an early Christmas dinner, neglected to bring Christmas presents for her and Trista, and then abruptly left after opening the ones he received. A similar phenomenon was observed when coming home late at night. He'd come home at 2am, crawl into bed for a couple of hours, and then leave before the sun came up. But Amber wasn't stupid. She knew that it had to do with the other woman who lived down the street. And the same can be said about Daren. He had another woman who seemed to be under the impression that Daren was supposed to live with her, even eat dinner with her. Is that all Amber's love life was to be?—great guys who end up cheating on her?

  * * *

  Later that night during dinner; Trista and Amber ate in partial silence, only briefly exchanging updates about their days. Suddenly, Trista put her fork down. “You know, Mom, I need to talk to you about something—something important.”

  “Sure! What is it?”

  “It's about this Daren guy. I don't appreciate having him here alone with me. I don't feel safe with him.—you know? Did you give him the house key?”

  “Yes… is there a problem?”

  “Mom, he's a stranger! You don't know who he is or what he's about.”

  Amber laughed, “Trista, he's a nice guy. You know, for so long you've made it seem like he's this bad person. And I'm tired of you telling me how to run my love life. I would have had him sooner had I ignored your silly rules of playing hard to get. I'm the adult around here, and I know when to trust someone.”

  “Mom, I don't trust him. He acts like he's my father; wanted to know where I was and who I was with.”

  “And that's a bad thing? He cares about me, and obviously cares about you as well. And maybe you need a fatherly role in your life, someone to keep you in line when I'm not around. If you ask me, I'm glad someone is here to give you the third degree when I'm not around.”

  “Mom, he touched me.”

  “Touched you?”

  “Yes, and I don't like the way he looks at me!”

  “How did he touch you? And when?”

  “He touched me this afternoon when you were not here. While giving me your so-called third degree, he took it upon himself to put his hand on my shoulder. And then there's the way he looks at me.”

  Amber sighed. “Trista, that's the way he is. He's a compassionate man. I really don't think that he touched you out of lust. And how is he looking at you?”

  “With lust, Mom.”

  Again, Amber sighed. “Honestly, Trista; don't you think you're a little out of touch? I mean you're certainly a beautiful, young lady; but do you really think that every guy who looks at you totally wants you? He seems like a classy gentleman and reasonable enough to understand that you are young enough to be his daughter. Maybe these lustful looks are taking place in your mind?”

  Outraged at her mother's blind-in-love stupidity, Trista now shouted. “I can't believe you, Mother! I'm trying to warn you about something that is not right! I don't feel safe with a stranger coming in my house, but you won't listen! What is wrong with you?” With that, Trista picked up her plate and discarded the scraps into the garbage. “And one other thing, Mom—something you refuse to recognize about the men you date—Daren is married! Do you want to know where your supposed nice guy is? He's at home with his wife! It sounds like he's really committed and a nice, compassionate gentleman!” Then she stormed off into her bedroom for the night.

  Chapter 55

  The following afternoon, Trista walked home from the bus stop on lengths of sidewalk that were either partially shoveled, or containing permanent sheets of compacted ice. In a couple weeks they would hopefully thaw out as the vernal equinox occurs in March. She was used to this inconvenience year after year. Only when finally entering the house, dropping the school bag, and removing her coat and boots was the day finally over. The
bus ride was anything but relaxing. And of course a lengthy walk through the Mapleview cold on hazardous sidewalks would be added. But now Trista wondered if there was a new variable that would further delay her time in finally relaxing for the day.

  Would Daren be there? Would she have to put up with his unnecessary third-degree interrogations along with further attempts at touching her? Maybe she could track down Daren's wife and inform her of her husband's recent whereabouts. Then again, who knows where such a bold move might lead her. It was probably best to let the novelty of Mother's romance wear off so that she grew tired of Daren and finally break up. Or maybe count on the unpleasant certainty of extramarital affairs: It's not a matter of if you get caught; it's more a matter of when.

  Trista reached the doorstep of her house and entered. Sure enough, Daren was sitting on the sofa and waiting for her.

  “Hi!” greeted Daren. How was your school day?"

  “Fine…” Daren was the last person Trista wanted to see.

  “No orchestra practice this afternoon?”

  Trista did not have to stay after school on Tuesdays, but she felt it was none of Daren's business. However, she remembered from yesterday that reminding him only invited Daren to approach her. Trista's safest option was to remain silent.

  But Daren continued the conversation as-if Trista was part of it. “So Tuesdays are your early days. That's nice. It gives you a chance to relax a little before your mother comes home.”

  Trista remained silent.

  Then Daren smiled, “I have a little surprise for you.”

  This mention worried Trista and it certainly showed as she glanced over to him.

  “Oh, now it's nothing bad! Relax! Don't you trust me? You just need to warm up to me, that's all. Your surprise is in the kitchen—a little after school snack.”

  Trista wasn't interested, but felt obligated by some apparent mental control of Daren's to check out the surprise in the kitchen. She scuffed over to the kitchen where she noticed a bag from the Mapleview Cookie Shop. Curious, she opened it.

  Inside was a jumbo chocolate chip cookie that had been folded over like a taco shell and filled with chocolate butter cream frosting. Two eyes were formed over the chocolate frosting with white and blue butter cream frosting.

  “You like it?” Daren asked while entering the kitchen. “I got it at the Mapleview Cookie Shop. They call it a Peak-a-Boo. I guess they call it that because of the eyes.”

  All Trista could do was return a blank stare to the madman who was beginning to scare her. Daren was about to do something bad. Trista could feel it.

  “Go ahead and take a bite.”

  “Umm… maybe later. Thank you, though. It was nice of you.”

  But this wasn't good enough for Daren. “Come-on! Take a bite! What are you afraid of?”

  “I really don't want…”

  Before Trista could say anything further, Daren snatched the cookie from her hand. “Come-on, take a bite!”

  Unfortunately, Trista was backed into a corner and unable to escape. All she could do was look down at the cookie and appear stubborn. She was not going to take a bite of that cookie and hated the fact that Daren was forcing it upon her. She was just like Mother; putting up a fight and being quite a challenge for Daren.

  “Take a bite!” ordered Daren. “I'm not going anywhere until you take a bite!”

  Trista shook her head, no.

  “We can stay here all day. Like I said, I'm going nowhere until you try some of this cookie!” He waved it towards Trista's mouth. “Come-on… you know you want to…”

  Trista was losing patience. Apparently the only way to escape was to follow Daren's rule and take a bite of the cookie. So that's what she did. She opened her mouth and allowed Daren to stick the end of the cookie in. Trista bit off and then chewed. Needless to say, the pastry was absolutely delicious; but most-likely terribly fattening. The cookie itself tasted freshly baked, soft and moist. The butter cream was sweet and guaranteed to deliver a sugar high.

  As Trista chewed, Daren broke off another small piece. Chocolate butter cream frosting pulled apart so that the broken mass of sandwiched frosting between cookie was held with his finger and thumb.

  “Have some more.” Daren held it before Trista's mouth.

  But this wasn't fair. Trista believed she was playing according to Daren's rule and could finally escape by taking a bite of the cookie. Now there was more to be had. She looked up with an expression to suggest this.

  “Come-on, have some more of the cookie. You like it.”

  With no choice, Trista took the broken piece from Daren's hand with her mouth and chewed it up. Just like before, the whole taste and experience of sugar was nearly euphoric. And there was even more! Yes, Daren continued to break off additional pieces and hand fed them to Amber's teenage daughter. Rest assured, he thoroughly enjoyed watching Trista's beautiful, sweet lips along with blue stained tongue and mouth from the butter cream eyes take more and more cookie from his hand. What would it be like to kiss those young and sweet lips? At one point, some frosting had accumulated on the side of Trista's lips. Daren wiped it off with his finger—enjoying the very touch of her lips—and then placed it in Trista's mouth. With no choice, she sucked the frosting off.

  And that's when reality finally hit Trista. She was being trained and conditioned in that moment to obey and be submissive to Daren. She didn't like this, needless to say, and wished there was a way to escape. But more and more cookie stuffed with chocolate butter cream frosting was being handfed to Trista. The top of her head began to tingle from the overload of sugar. All the while Daren carefully watched with such pleasure in his eyes. At that moment, Trista was the most beautiful creature in the world.

  Why didn't Mother listen to her? So frightened and overwhelmed by Daren's passive conquest, Trista began to shed tears. She was breaking down emotionally but had no choice but to continue accepting piece after piece of cookie from Daren. She sniffled and cried some.

  “There, there…” answered Daren while placing more cookie to her lips.”Everything is alright. There's no reason to get upset. She looked so beautiful with sweet, sugary lips and tears running down her cheeks. “Why are you crying, Honey? What's wrong?”

  With mouth full Trista struggled to answer. “I can't eat anymore. I'm getting sick.”

  With that, Daren put down the cookie. “Getting sick? Well you don't have to eat anymore. I thought you liked it, and that's why I kept giving it to you. See, we just need to open the communication between us. I listen.”

  Just seconds away from receiving an unwanted hug from Daren, Trista did the only thing and turned to face the counter. Then she folded her arms in some strange need to protect herself.

  But this was only an invitation for more touching. “You're so tense.” With that, Daren began to massage Trista's shoulders. “You need to learn to relax.”

  He rubbed her arms and back so slowly and sensually. Really it felt good for her, but a little frightening. This man had no right to touch her! The entire massage lasted over ten minutes as Daren enjoyed breaking his fantasy stepdaughter in. Breaking in a young virgin is a careful matter. She's so fragile and delicate; easily frightened and overly emotional. You can't make the ultimate move too quickly. It takes time. She must be slowly trained and conditioned to be receptive to affection and sensual touch. Then again, for Daren, this pleasure was all part of the seduction.

  Chapter 56

  There was nothing too out of the ordinary to report for the remainder of the first week of March. Daren and Amber continued to play their game of pretend husband and wife while Daren continued to make progress with his fantasy adopted daughter, Trista. It should also be mentioned that as usual, Daren continued to successfully pull the wool over poor Mary's eyes. As for Jim and Ekaterina; their practice of afternoon sex magick in the forest remained in full swing. Kimberly remained an increasingly-neurotic follower of Samuel Crummings and his writings of the occult.

  * * *

>   Welcome to Kimberly's ongoing journey into occult-driven madness…

  It was the evening of Wednesday, March 10, 2010—the Ides of March only five days away. Should Jim have been warned of this? Maybe he should have been warned of the vernal equinox only ten days away. Or perhaps it was the full Moon to fall on March 30th and Easter shortly following. Whatever the reason, the danger wasn't very clear. Something wasn't right, and for now it manifested itself in the face of Kimberly.

  Jim was beginning to notice a certain distance and even resistance coming from his wife. Was it because of Ekaterina? Did Kimberly sense the intense, extramarital, sexual affair taking place between her husband and some other woman (assumedly Amber down the street)? Or was it because of Samuel Crummings' writings which pulled Kimberly deeper and deeper into his brainwashing cult? Kimberly did, after all, attempt a destructive magick ritual against television news anchor, Martha de los Santos, which backfired and caused a traumatic afternoon for little Collin.

  So what was the cause?—Jim's extramarital affair with Ekaterina, the writings of Samuel Crummings, or simply the physical strain placed on Kimberly's body from the illness? It's best to let the reader decide. Incidentally, this church of Samuel Crummings couldn't be all that bad. Since embracing his teachings, Kimberly noticed herself becoming increasingly well—nearly recovered from the horrible super virus.

  But why the need for Kimberly to emasculate her husband? I suppose this is what women do in their 40s. They go through some sort of psychological change in which they feel it necessary to break down a husband's confidence and strength in the family.

  Outside of exhibiting a plain-faced and not exactly thrilled expression, there wasn't anything in particular that Kimberly did during those initial moments of sitting around the dinner table that night. But for whatever reason, Kimberly's facial expressions, tone of voice and body language had an ability to drain the emotional energy from Jim.