Sex stories: Dark Arts – Chapter 2A: Sympathy – by MrPhantomille
Genres: Fantasy, Mind Control, Teen Male/Teen Female, Virginity
Okay guys, the next one is going to be AWHILE, but hopefully you guys will enjoy it. Thought I’d give you this chapter, though. Jonathan discovers a new, deeper use for the Gift, and starts his magical career with a bang… literally.
I was in heaven.
Hadn’t died, mind you. But this… this was something else.
I sat against the cold stone walls of the upstairs area of my high school’s auditorium. Beside me was the exhausted (and naked) form of Gracie Monten, an angelic, adorable little freshman with a devilishly powerful interest in sex.
That wasn’t what her got here, though. She probably never would have done this, ever, if it weren’t for my powers.
She lay snuggled against me as I stroked her hair lightly. She was almost definitely asleep, how she could manage that while it was so drafty up here was beyond me, but she was surprisingly warm. After she’d returned the favor I’d done her by giving me head, she’d finger fucked herself to another orgasm, widening the puddle on the floor by quite a bit. It was hot, but I’d decided not to masturbate myself, instead savoring the moment.
The bell rang, causing me to jolt forward a little in shock.
“I’m in high school,” was the first surprising realization. I’d pretty much lost track of time, space, everything.
“I just got a fantastic blowjob from a freshman. Not just any freshman, Gracie,” came the second. The surprise caused my heart to beat fast.
“Why did I do this? What is wrong with me? What if she didn’t want this?” came the voices of doubt in my mind. Although in the end she’d caved, I had given her more than a gentle push with my powers. Anyone would have done anything at that level of lust, I was almost sure of it. She’s going to wake and think she’s been raped, and although she won’t know it, she’s almost right.
As if on autopilot, I alerted Gracie, got her up, and stood up myself. The front of my jeans had dried now and everything else was in good shape, I’d even taken the time to get dressed again. Gracie, however, looked a mess. Her hair was crazy from rubbing up against the wall, and her nether region was pretty soaked.
I helped her get dressed without a word, and as we descended the staircase I decided I had to talk to her before she got home.
“Umm… Gracie?” I asked.
“Yeah?” she said, bewildered.
Think, damn you, think.
“Listen, what we did up there, that’s gotta stay secret, okay?” I said.
“Okay,” she said, as if she didn’t know what she was saying.
We hit the bottom of the staircase, I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to face me, looking straight into her eyes.
“Gracie, I’m serious about that. Nobody is to know what we did up there.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” she said, a little more aware of her surroundings.
We went back through the set dock and to the front. I walked her out of the side door of the auditorium before we said our goodbyes.
Shit. I thought. I realized I could have just used my powers to will her memories away.
“Do I want to?” I thought. She wasn’t going to remember any Arcanan words I used in the heat of the moment, and it was really great. If I removed her memory, that pretty much would have been rape. And if she enjoyed it, taking the memory from her would have been self-serving, I would have only done it to cover my own ass.
At the same time, this was risky. I didn’t know her all that well. She’s probably one hell of a gossiper.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I needed to clear my head.
I walked home with determination unlike ever before and went to splash my face with cold water. I realized that I still smelled, pretty strongly, of sweat and other things I couldn’t immediately identify. I showered for the second time that day. I went into my room and turned on the console, the disc already spinning with my favorite strategy game, set in a high-fantasy medieval land that was basically Europe but not Europe. It’s funny how much the nature of magic changed in my eyes, as my mages flung fireballs, I couldn’t help but chuckle thinking that such powers have much greater use. The nature of what I did hit me a second time. I shook off the thought and ordered my troops to hit the goblin a second time. I saw the skimpy outfit my female thief character was wearing. I remembered the nude form of Gracie, horny but happy. I winced again to dismiss the image.
When I looked back to the clock, begging to let it be late enough for me to sleep. If I stayed awake any longer to dwell on this, I might snap. Even the fantasy realm was not enough to get this off my mind. I sighed, saved, and powered down.
8:00 PM. Close enough.
10:00 PM. I heard a loud smack against the window. I got up and opened the curtains. A surreal ball of water flew up and hit it once more. It kept its shape until it hit the glass, making the same strange sound then dispersed. I undid the latch and opened it to find Kammeryn looking up at me from our back yard with a very smug “hey stupid, how’s your day been?” kind of look.
“Hey stupid, how’s your day been?” he asked, in a tone of voice so far foreign to what I’d ever heard from him previously.
“Shut up Kammeryn. Do you know what time it is?”
“Certainly no time for sleeping. What are you, eighty? Don’t worry about coming down, I’ll come up.” he said. With that, he walked away from the window to the far side of the yard, over to my Dad’s shed, disappearing from view. My closet door opened behind me and he came out. I turned and jumped to see him standing there.
Kammeryn’s casual, non-magic-ritual attire looked… pretty much like his ritual attire. Black fingerless gloves and a long black leather jacket, black denim jeans and a dark gray tee-shirt. He looked like something out of an anime, almost. One of the badass characters. Except with a more conservative haircut.
“You really should learn to get used to things like that.”
“Sorry if I’ve only seen you cast about four spells so far,” I said.
“Heh. Fair enough. Well, you’ve got quite the hang of casting them yourself I see.”
“Have you been in my head again?” I asked.
“Actually, this time, no. Luca’s eyes, lovely magical things, are kind of tuned in to events of significant magical importance. And they’re also tied to the will of some strange, higher intelligence that even I can’t comprehend. Basically, she sees random events and there is no way of knowing why she saw what she saw. But one of the more random visions she had today keyed me in onto your situation. Slightly. Mind clarifying on some of the minor points?”
“What do you know?” I asked.
“Let’s start from the beginning.” he said.
I figured there was no hiding from this guy. If he wanted to, he could make me spout out every embarassing secret I could think of, and a couple more buried deeper into my subconsious.
So I decided to spill. Scanning people in my classrooms, one or two of the more unusal discoveries about the kids I knew, then onward to my exploits with Gracie. He nodded approval as if these were the kind of things he heard every day. Gracie’s story brought some questions, specifically to the spells I cast but also some sexual ones. There was still an uneasy air about this, as if I was confessing to a crime.
“Kid, listen, everything you can do, I can do better. Everything you HAVE done, I’ve done worse. I think I have something for you,” he said. He spoke a few words of Arcanan and pulled out a book that was too large to fit into his jacket without it having been noticeable before. It looked like an old, weathered textbook of some kind, with a deep blue cover and golden embossed text. He walked over to the bed and sat down. I sat down next to him.
“Breaching The Iron Vault Of The Mind, by Archmage Emerryus, House Kothrin,” he read, as if he was about to start reading me a bedtime story. He pronounced it “Em-er-us”. “On loan from my personal collection to a Mister Arcos, likewise House Kothrin,” he said, opening it up and placing it between us. He rifled through the pages a bit. “Signis,” he uttered. I now noticed as he flipped through, passages highlighting themselves. He’d skip a few dozen pages, stop, scan, make marks appear, continue on like that. When he’d done that for about four-fifths the book, he stopped at the back section. “Okay, skipping this part, it bored me to death,” then flipping the remaining segment back to reveal a couple notes loosely stuffed into it, on yellowing notebook paper. The stark contrast it provided with the style of the rest of the book was a bit humorous.
“Okay, here’s… wow. I must’ve been like… heh. Your age back then,” he said, chuckling a bit. The scrawl was definitely a teenager’s.
He then sat through and organized them into two piles.
“Okay… okay… oh, hold this one,” he said, handing one over to me. “And, those two, okay. There we are. I’ll be keeping this stack,” he said. “Dispar dimtere.” he said, causing one stack to vanish. “And you can copy down the rest,” he said. “But first, give me that page again,” he said, taking back the one he handed me.
“Ah, here it is: The Alice Spell,” he said. The picture had a stylized image similar to Disney’s Alice In Wonderland, slightly more mature, with half of her face in the shadow of a mushroom, smiling rather mischieviously.
“The Alice spell causes the mark to completely block out anything of the sexual nature originating from sources outside those desired by the caster, including all previous memories of intercourse. However, any sexual advances made by the caster will cause a much more sexual nature to arise, immediately knowledgeable of all experiences previously surpressed by the spell. This also confers upon the mark a childlike naievete that carries through to both natures, in the innocent, more cute and sweet, and to the sexual, more teasing and mischievious,” he read.
I read along with him, looking at the sharp, distinct handwriting and now fairly certain it was Kammeryn’s own. This was confirmed by the next line, which read “Original Design: Kammeryn of House Kothrin.”
“I’m telling you, it’s perfect for your freshman.” He scanned the page a bit more. “Okay, here’s how most real spells work. You get your target, or something with sympathy, and you utter these words here,” he said, going over two lines tabbed out of the rest of the description. They were entirely Arcanan symbols. “Don’t need to focus all that much. You see, longer spells like this are codified by the author. They tween and tweak and get the Arcanan words to mean exactly what they mean to produce the desired effect. You just need to know what it was meant to do, and it’ll do it.” he said, flipping the pages over and scanning it again. I noticed another tabbed-out section.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Ah. It’s something like an English translation of the spell.” he said. “And, like most of the spells I came up with then, it’s a rhyme. Once you learn the Arcanan words, all you gotta do is remember the rhyme to know the order. Plus, as culture would suggest, rhymes have power. Even though those aren’t the words you’re saying, it links the meanings together in a way that you find special. That’s what magic is all about, in a way.”
I took the paper from him and looked more closely.
“Then two natures, hid inside
One will live when one does die
Hold both to childish innocence
But to one, sexual deference
From one to break, the new arising
Never to find it unsurprising
Bending now to my desires
In childish passion, lusty fires”
“Not my best work, I’ll admit. But it gets the job done,” he said.
“Sympathy. You’ve talked about it before,” I asked.
“Yes. Well, it’s like this. Everything in the world has connections. The deeper they are, the better you can manipulate them. Like, your connection with your sign word, Desdiri, is about as deep as these things get, seeing as we magically bound it to you. Same with your Shadow name. However, we don’t just make ties to ideas and words, we make ties to things and people,” he said. “So, say I walk by a bus stop and lean against the post. I do it once, nothing much. I do it a hundred times, the pole itself gains some magical resonance with me. Partially because I hold it significant in my mind, partially because we are cosmically connected.” He paused to let me take it in. “Someone’s hairbrush, someone’s bed, each of these are connected to that person by magical sympathy. Blood and bodily fluids, hair, and skin are also really great examples, although blood magic has even deeper potential. We’ll get into that later.” He leaned forward on my bed.
“When you were dealing with Gracie, she was right in front of you. No amount of sympathy was required, you had the object of the spell itself. Ripe for the picking. Now, when you don’t have the advantage of having your subject with you, or when you want to cast spells on them without their knowledge, your spell has more power when you utilize the magical bonds of sympathy. You take the object,” he said, holding out his left hand and grabbing an imaginary handle. “That hairbrush or whatever. And you focus onto your target,” he said, clutching it closer. “Magic runs through symbolism. No distance. No time. No space. So you can impact things by manipulating those symbols. When I called up that book, I focused on my House name, written on the cover, and my notes in the back. Two strongest symbolic ties I could make,” he said. “Oh, and with that spell of yours, know that it’s only going to get stronger the closer you get to Gracie. The more you have sex,” he said, teasingly. I winced a bit.
“Hmm… you know, you talk different sometimes,” I said. Because I was so lost in thought, my words got kind of jumbled.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, when you’re teaching or at our hangout…”
“Sanctum,” he quickly interrupted.
“Our ‘sanctum,'” I said, pausing as if to taste the word. “you talk formal, official, like a leader, right? But when you came in, you were all buddy-buddy with me.”
“Heh” he said. “Yeah, I suppose. Always trained to present a strong front. To be calm and collected. To train you up in the Arcanan way. But, let’s face it, we all got to let loose sometimes,” he sighed.
“Hm. I kind of like it when you let loose,” I said, smiling.
“Heh. Speaking of letting loose, I have another something for you,” he said, pulling a sheet of paper from another pocket. “Just some rudimentary spells for any further exploits you may be pursuing, y’know, some basic wrap-it-before-you-tap-it stuff. Except we’re mages, so no condoms. You have fun kiddo. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Luca’s been waiting for me,” he said suggestively. He stood up and crossed to the closet. He opened the door and shut it behind him sloppily. It creaked back open into nothingness. Thinking about this stunt later on, I couldn’t help but realize how funny it was that he chose that closet. It wasn’t the kind you hang clothes in, it was full of shelves, as if to store linen. There was no way he could humanly fit, if he’d actually had to go into the closet to use whatever trickery it was he was using.
I thought about all he had said. About how he didn’t mind what I did. Almost suggesting I should go ahead and do so. Whenever.
“What did I do?” I then asked myself.
1. I had gave oral sex to a beautiful young girl, which she enjoyed until orgasm.
2. I recieved same favor in return, although she did not know said favor was magically coerced out of her.
“Did I do something she didn’t want?” I thought. I didn’t know any mind control spells. I just mentally manipulated her to a level of lust she wasn’t quite used to. I couldn’t really “force” her to have sex with me magically; I just wasn’t at that level of power yet. I made her have desire. She chose to act on it.
Likewise, she chose to reciprocate. Had I gave her a desire, or merely a suggestion in the guise of a desire? I didn’t know. I wasn’t her. I couldn’t say.
I then came to these two conclusions:
1. She consented to the act performed on her and the subsequent act performed on me.
2. Two people who have willing sexual activity with each other are not doing anything wrong.
The second was morally iffy, but I found myself believing the underlying principle to be true. So what if we’re “underage”? Nobody got pregnant or sick; we were both virgins.
So it was okay.
I snapped out of my philosophical ramblings and looked down to my research material. I flipped through the first page and started reading.
“Breaching The Vault Of Memory,” read a large heading. I flipped ahead to another marked section. “Mind Reading With Clarity.”
Hmm… I closed the book, got up, and grabbed some notebook paper from my binder. I placed it next to the book and stopped again. I went to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee.
I went back to the book, coffee in hand, and opened it up.
“Basic Tenets: Sensory Spells.”
I started reading, taking a couple notes. Lots of new words. Lots of powerful, powerful new words.
I set it beside Kammeryn’s private notes, hoping I could try to multitask.
“Sympathy Exploitation” was something that caught my eye.
I saw the staple. It was three pages.
I looked at the bulk of the notes. There were easily about twenty pages. Almost none of them had anything to do with the subject of the book. “They weren’t notes on the book,” I then realized. They were just notes. “Clouding The Senses” “Into Insignificance”. A couple of them were like the Alice page. Fully written, complex spells.
I looked back to the book. Although I had the most relevant sections highlighted for me, it was probably an entire book in itself.
I looked back to the notes.
Kammeryn had arranged quite the lineup for me. It was going to be a loooooong night.
Parent Post: Dark Arts – by MrPhantomille
- Dark Arts - Chapter 1B: Words - by MrPhantomille
- Dark Arts - Chapter 2A: Sympathy - by MrPhantomille
- Dark Arts - Chapter 2B: Sympathy - by MrPhantomille