Cuddling on the
Wild Side

The whole Witch’s Son Series so far

“I will not be a Luddite because you women choose to disdain all things electronic! I have 3 papers due next week alone and I’m not about to sit down with a quill to scratch out a missive to the mistress. Do you remember what century this is?”

“You’ll show respect, man-child!”

“Gran, really? Man-child? I’ve been in this house as your grandson for 16 years. Will you please not speak to me as if I’m some sort of shocking abomination?”

“You were a shock!“

“I know. I’d think you’d be used to the idea of a grandchild with a prick by now.”

“Such language!”

“I’ll just ask mom.” She’d tell me no again but I’d still ask. I’d been trying to get a laptop since the start of school a month before. Having to use friends’ computers who were working on the same papers as me at the same time was not working. We had the money but these old women believed that magic and technology couldn’t co-exist. That I was using a computer in a room filled with computers everyday was of no interest to them because they thought my being male meant that I had no connection to the threads of Light that only they could perceive. They thought this because of how few threads connected to me, they said. I was like all the other people walking around blind to magic. I didn’t know then how it was possible that I could do what I could do with magic without them knowing but I was glad that it was how it was. They looked fairly normal but the old crones were powerful beyond imagining. I needed to stay shrouded.

After the jump…

At any rate, mom had actually decided to surprise me with a laptop even before another session of begging. Her being a bit rebellious often served my cause when the Grans dug their heels into the dirt. Their adamant “no” often became her grounded “yes.” Go, mom!

When I went to my room that first night to play with it I was as convinced as the Grans that it should be shielded from my magic. That was a lesson I’d learned in school early on. It had taken a concerted effort for me to protect the machines at school from my ministrations with magic. By this time, though, it was second nature to simply create a shield around anything that I might fry. I wasn’t even thinking about it most of the time. At home, though, I had to protect things from the Women as well. They were like lighting rods drawing energies into the house. It had other side effects, as well. People would stop by our house for no reason. Not people we knew just dropping in. Complete strangers. Watching my Grans toy with them wasn’t pleasant. It was worse when it was both of them. It was watching the crones that I started being shaped in my use of magic.

I was a teen-ager. I did things that any teen-age guy would do if he had my abilities. That wasn’t the only way that my practice unfolded, however. As these people continued showing up several times a week it became more and more evident what it was they were seeking if one but had the eyes to see. It was the abundance of magic that drew them. They didn’t even know they were seeking. I’d learned a spell for finding things from my mom when I was very small and kept losing my toys. It was rudimentary but useful and I’d cast it on the seekers when I knew I could help. Doing big magic in the house would have drawn attention. This, though, barely tugged at the flow.

I’d drop my bug on the folks as they left and then find them later. They’d not recognize me, of course, because I was the ubiquitous hoodied kid they saw everywhere and when they were in the midst of all the magic buzzing around our house they weren’t very attentive to lesser details. My Grans have a way of keeping your attention.

That is another side effect of magic. You don’t technically stay young. You do, technically, look like you are young. Calling them the crones conjures up an image of some movie-esque old women with long, crooked noses and sagging skin. My grans were none of this. They and my mother all looked the same age. They were all tall women with curves and creases in all the right places. That’s what the men said, anyway. That I got this much from their magical lineage was obvious and painful to them. I was tall early and fairly well-built if still on the skinny side. I looked like a normal teen but at the upper end of the looks spectrum. All the girls I could want and not an ounce of wanting them back… ironic, really.

At any rate, that night I went to my room and grabbed the chalk before even putting the battery into the computer my mom had bought me. I closed the circle that is always drawn around my room. I’d read a lot of science fiction and fantasy from our library. There were always emergencies when some arcane hero needed a quick circle and all the best were prepared. Witch’s son or not, I wanted to be a hero just like all the other geeks at school so I was prepared. Mom was pleased. The Grans were annoyed. Any human can close a circle and it pissed them off that mine worked to seal them out magically.

Closing the circle to shield my new baby from the Women, I sat down in front of it and extended a slightly altered version of my typical shield around it. It was protected as always but I could slide in just enough of my own magic to make the electronics specifically mine. It worked like a charm on the first try. Thank the spirits for that, too. Don’t know how I’d have explained that kind of meltdown to the sales guy.

Upon firing it up I immediately connected to an open wifi network that our neighborhood maintains for the residents. I really did have three papers to write but that didn’t negate my needs as a teen-ager to take care of some online chatting, social networking, and tweeting about my new best-friend. That being done, there was one more thing needing my attention. I was 16 and had a new and nearly unlimited menu of porn at my fingertips. I started with a couple of sites that I’d heard about from friends that I’d been hoping would have some hot guys at least stroking off together if not more.

Not shockingly, I found what I wanted pretty quickly. Being kind of skinny myself I liked looking at guys with some beef on them. I knew I had to be careful with my fantasizing after the college guy from down the street’s underwear showed up on my face while I was cumming. I’m a witch. I’d seen him in them through the window of his room while I was mowing his parents’ lawn while he was home on vacation. He was a wrestler and had a wrestler’s body and I got pretty turned on even then. When I came home I was alone in the house and went to my room for a little relief. I had a pretty good picture of him in those underwear in mind and wondered how they’d smell. Orgasm is a huge release of energy for anyone. Add to that my heritage and you have a teen-age disaster waiting to happen.

While I was watching porn I was sure not to bring any guys inexplicably into my room. The guy who was my favorite was a really beefy bodybuilder. He had a really nice cock but, more than that, he had a way of touching himself that was driving me insane. He slid his hand over his abs as if he’d never felt anything so amazing. I was convinced I certainly hadn’t. He had a naturally dark skin that was stretched tight over his hard body. He was very veiny and was absolutely in love with the outcome of his workouts. He let his fingers slide into every ridge between his abs. He squeezed his own biceps. He molested his pecs like he was afraid they might be gone later. I was matching him stroke for stroke on my dick but had let my eyes slide closed to imagine what those muscle must feel like. I squirted over my head as I commended myself on having such a good imagination. As I was wiping a rope of cum off my face I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror across the room.

I whipped myself around and stood with my mouth open for a long time. The reflection staring back at me in the mirror had my face. It had my heavy load dripping from my chin. It was me in the reflection but… more of me. I had a body that could compete with the stud from my vid. When I’d recovered motor skills I wiped off the cum but was already figuring out why that guy couldn’t stop touching himself. This body felt different than how I usually felt. It felt stronger. It felt more powerful. It felt… horny!

I’ve been a witch since I was born. Lot’s of weird things had already happened in my life. This was shocking but it wasn’t scary. I busted my nut about five times before falling asleep that night. I fell asleep on the floor next to my little, fold-up porn theater in a puddle of my own goo. When I awoke on Saturday morning I was skinny again and had dried cum all over my flat but not six-pack abs. I powered the laptop down and put it away before breaking my circle and hitting the shower. It was fun while it lasted.

—–

“Mom, can you make yourself look different?”

“I buy you a new computer and the first thing you say to me in the morning is that I’m ugly?”

She was grinning. She was almost always grinning at me. I think she lived to twist my words into something I’d have to apologize for and then explain. “I didn’t say you were ugly! I just want to know if you can appear differently if you want to?”

“I can. It’s called a glamour spell. You know how to do that already.”

How red I must have turned at that moment was thankfully unseen by my mom who had her back to me as she finished up the dishes from the breakfast I’d already missed. She unknowingly let me off the hook without my having to squeak out a question.

“It’s just like when you were little and would play by changing your reflection in the pond down at the park. Remember? You liked to make yourself look old. You used to laugh forever when you could see the beard in the water but not feel it on your face. You were kind of silly.”

Again with the grinning. “Hmm, I remember that now. I don’t know if that’s what I mean, though. Can you make yourself actually look different to others and not in a reflection?”

“That’s what I’m saying to you. It’s the same magic. You don’t start trying to change how you actually look, though, because you might make a mistake and get stuck that way so you just play with your reflection. I would have had a hard time making people understand that my five year old had a full beard, right? That’s where the old saying comes from, you know.”

“What old saying?”

“If you make that face it’ll stick that way.”

“No it doesn’t. Come on, mom.”

“Believe what you want. Regardless, why are you asking me this? Are you unhappy with how you look? You know you are handsome.”

“You scare me when you sound like a regular mom like that. I think I look fine, I was just asking.”

“I am a regular mom. You are a regular teen-ager, too.”

“How’s that?”

“You just lied to me. Don’t deny it but don’t worry about it. It’s not normal for a mother to know everything that her son wonders about. It’s kind of creepy, actually. Just don’t make a mess or hurt anyone. And for the love of all that is holy, don’t give yourself a big beard overnight. I couldn’t take it. I already feel old without my son looking like Abraham in his last days.”

“There’s something so wrong with you. Abraham didn’t have guns like these!” I pointed at my meager arms to punctuate my sarcasm.

“Get ready for school. You’ve gotten delirious.”

“It’s Saturday. I don’t have school.”

“Magic school, goofy. I have a new spell for you while your Grans are out!”

—–

I tried for a week on my own to get that body back for at least a night. It was all for nothing. I couldn’t get it. Frustrated, I sat down again before the laptop and opened up some more vids of the guy I’d ‘grown’ to before. Once again I really got off on watching him worship his own muscle. Sure enough, I started growing again. I couldn’t believe it. Thinking that it might be the guy himself that was helping me I opened up other vids with different guys in similar situations. It worked!

No matter who the guy was, if I was watching him then I could imitate his body. It was evidently about visual focus. I couldn’t hold the image strongly enough in my mind to make it spread to my body. I could fix that. I had plenty of meditation practices I was supposed to be practicing anyway. This was just the motivation I needed.

Within a few weeks I could hold the new body as long as I wanted. The problem was, I couldn’t do it in front of other people without them wondering if I’d stuffed my clothes. The only answer was to start working out. I immediately bought some cheap weights online and got to work. I added muscle faster than most guys my age but my friends just thought it was cool and the Grans and Mom just assumed it was their genetic code flowing through my body that had impacted the rapid change. Within six months I was big enough to be a competitive body builder. The only difference was that I could also add a nice bulge to that banana hammock they all pose in. I could grow my own, remember!

Stay tuned for more wild magic, sex, muscle and kink in the Witch’s Son

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This entry was posted on Monday, January 26th, 2009 at 10:39 am and is filed under Fiction Story, Magic, Muscle Growth, Witch's Son series. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.