Dark Arts – Chapter 2B: Sympathy – by MrPhantomille

Sex stories: Dark Arts – Chapter 2B: Sympathy – by MrPhantomille

I greeted the schoolyard that day with a glimmer in my eyes like no other.

Classes were normal as always. Lauren and I had a nice talk during lunch. Well, it would have been really nice, had SHE not arrived. Not Lauren, of course.

Tori Baxter was a old friend turned old enemy. We met in elementary school, she used to be the shy, quiet type. But in junior high, she got snobby.

Now, don’t get me wrong, she was definitely attractive. Caramel skin. Hour glass figure, emphasis on the tits, D cups at least. Wavy brown hair kept just long enough to leave maximum room for styling, today, a ponytail. Her appearance always gave the air of the artificial, though, as clearly so much work was put into it. Today she had on a black polka-dotted tee shirt, black skirt, black jacket, and a bow. I think it was the bow that would irk me the most, that she would play so innocent yet act so snobbish, so preppy. Makeup that was likely done and redone to get precisely the right effect, not trampy, but clearly there. And sunglasses. Always the sunglasses. “Sensitive eyes” or something was the excuse.

“Hey John,” uttered the harpy queen, her gaggle of lesser harpies faithfully at her side.

“Oh, what would her Highness request of such a humble peasant today?” found it’s way to come out as “Hey Tori.” Lauren stepped in towards me, as if for protection. I almost swore I heard her growling.

“Listen, the Drama club is doing an improv night for a fundraiser, you should come. It’s this Friday in the auditorium.” One of her assistant harpies rushed forward with a flyer, which I grabbed out of her hands. There was a second one for Lauren, who snatched it with equally muted impatience to get this over with.

“I’ll consider it.”

“Okay,” was the last I heard of her before they swarmed off.

“What was that?” asked Lauren.

“I don’t know. She’s in my other drama course, you know.” Because drama and advanced drama were seperate courses, I could be put in both with no issues. So I took one advanced drama course to excercise my true talent and one regular drama course to hang out with my friends and get the easy A. I was not, however, in Drama club, partially because the leadership (Tori) pissed me off, and partially because they met so infrequently they hardly seemed to be a club at all. I was amazed they managed to put this together.

The lunch bell rang and I went to my psychology course to clear my head. Which is a good place to do that, if you think about it. Just one more period until drama, and I could execute my marvelous plan.

I pulled out the notes I took on Kammeryn’s book and went over them, making sure I had everything down pat. So many new words to learn. To use. And so little time.

Drama. Roll call. “Go practice your scenes,” said teacher.

Now, here’s how this goes with high schoolers. You give them groups to work with. You give them freedom to talk. You give them an auditorium to run around in. So they go everywhere. How’s the teacher supposed to round them up? They aren’t. It’s like another lunch break, save some people who are usually practicing.

This was so when I saw Gracie, deep in conversation with two or three of her girl friends.

Not good.

“Scienti suono,” I uttered. Know. Sound.

“So, yeah, who’s your partner?” said Random Girl.

“Jonathan,” said my little sex-kitten. She stuttered it out a bit. She’s nervous.

Did she tell anyone?

“Mente doman,” I uttered. Mind. Question.

“Did you tell anyone about what you did with Jonathan?” I asked of her subconsious.

It was at the forefront of her mind, so she wasn’t guarding the thought in the slightest.

“No.”

“Why?” I wanted to know. The thought got caught up into my spell.

“Because I want it to happen again,” came the subconsious response.

My eyes widened, then came a sigh of relief. I think it’s then I came to terms with what I did. Let’s face it, I did what I did. She liked it. I liked it. She may not have fully wanted it then, but she did fully want it now.

I tuned out the otherwise mundane conversation of the girls. Hearing in two places at once was a taxing magical trick, especially when both places heard the same cacophony of teenagers chatting about their day.

“Oscura,” I said. I wrapped the cloak of Haze around me. I couldn’t actually turn invisible, mind you, but I could use this to fade into insignificance just long enough to go near where Gracie set her backpack without getting questioned.

“Videri sympa,” I said. See. Sympathy.

As I opened her backpack, objects took on a light, surreal glow. Some were stronger than others. Textbooks, next to nothing. Binder, pretty bright. I picked it up and looked at it. There was a picture in the front that caught my eye. Not because the drawing was anything interesting, just a tree with a swingset in front of a house, in pencil, but it emitted quite the aura of sympathy.

I slipped it out and returned her things to a state that would have made it difficult to think anything had happened, and I headed out of the area in the audience where she kept her backpack. I headed backstage into the dressing room.

I closed the door and started breathing heavy. This was going to be great. I took some water from the water fountain and splashed my face with it. I dried my hands carefully before pulling out the image.

“Covo sympa. Covo sympa nora.” Kammeryn’s notes. Sympathy summoning.

Footsteps.

The door opened, and Gracie stepped in.

“Morcere.” Knockout spell. It’s admittably much more fun when you aren’t the target. I caught her in my arms and carefully laid her body out in front of the mirror. She wasn’t that heavy.

“Claudus clauditus.” I gestured over to the front and side doors. As a white beam zipped to each as I heard a firm, hard locking noise in my mind. Close and lock.

“Oscura.” The warm mist of the Haze spell relieved me of the tension that was now thick in my muscles.

I panted, out of breath. I felt like I’d just ran a few laps at full sprint. This spellcasting thing was tough. I steeled my focus and pulled out the paper on which I had written the lengthy “Alice” spell. I smiled and recited the rhyme once, for good measure.

I closed my eyes and focused hard. Time to get serious.

Out came the Arcanan words. However, unlike the last few spells, every word I spoke seemed to give me back my energy. The final words came out strong and proud. Childish passion and lustly fire, if I do recall.

Gracie started awake, and I jumped back a little.

“Hey, what happened?” she asked.

“Nothing. Hey, Gracie, about what we did yesterday, I’ve been thinking…” I paused for lack of words.

“You mean with the play?” she said.

Oh. Memory surpressing. I forgot.

“Yeah. I was thinking we should go over it again a few times. Usually I leave my partners to their own devices, but I really want to get this right.”

“Okay!” she said, with vigor in her eyes.

We went over it a couple times, much faster as we knew what to expect with the read. More emotion came out of it. She also seemed more focused, more… alive? I suppose that’s how you’d say it.

“So, you think we’re good?” I asked.

“Yeah. You want to go now?” she said, walking toward the door.

“Yeah, go talk to your friends or whatever,” I said. I advanced on her and grabbed her ass, squeezing lightly and smiling, knowing leaving would now be the very last thing she’d want to do.

“Hmmm… maybe I don’t want to play with my friends. Maybe I want to play with you,” she said seductively.

“Oh really now?” I said, smiling.

“Uh huh.” She came up to me and reached her arms up to wrap them around my neck. I bent forward to kiss her. She moaned into my mouth and pushed in her toungue agressively.

I surprised her a bit by grabbing her ass and lifting her up onto the table built into the wall of the dressing room mirror. It was at the perfect height, placing my crotch right above the level where she was sitting.

The kiss was longer and more passionate, all the while her moans mixing with the heat off of her body driving me crazy.

I backed off. She just sat there, looking at me seductively with her legs dangling off the edge.

“Feeling a little warm? Me too,” she said, toying with the edges of her blouse.

“Hmm…” I said, horny as hell but still up for the game. “Yeah. Maybe we should slip into something more comfortable.”

She was only wearing a tee shirt and short shorts today. I myself was wearing a tee-shirt and jeans, my jacket lying in a crumpled heap before I started any of this.

“But if I take off my shirt, my titties will be showing,” she said. “And what if someone walked in?” she giggled.

I absorbed the impact of what she was saying. Little slut didn’t have a bra on.

“Let ’em see. Let ’em see us fuck.”

“Ooooh. You said a naughty word,” she said teasingly.

I walked forward. “I’m so sowwy Gracie. Is there anything I could do to make it up to you?” I said, mock-childishly.

“Hmmm… I don’t know,” she said. “But you are right, it is getting hot in here,” she said. She took off her shirt and threw it in front of the door, her tits now bare and exposed.

“I think I know what I could do,” I said. Without further hesitation, I pressed in for a deep kiss, before slowly tracing my mouth down to her chest. She leaned back against the mirror as I moved my arms behind her. I took her left breast into my mouth and sucked delicately, licking my tongue in circles around her nipples.

“Ooooh… ooh yeah…” she said, almost purring.

I swirled faster as she squirmed a bit. I moved my other hand to her right breast and started fondling it gently. After awhile I switched sides, returning slowly. Once I figured each side to have fair treatment, I stopped.

“Do you forgive me now?” I asked.

“Hmmm… I’m not sure,” she said.

“Maybe I should do a bit more to apologize, then,” I said. I undid the front button of her pants and then lifted her off of the table and set her back on the ground as my hands moved down to her ass. After a quick grope or two through the fabric, I slid them down to the floor, followed quickly by her panties.

“Oh my, looks like I’m naked,” she said.