Hello Readers!
I introduced the Reids in my Halloween contest submission. Enough people expressed interest and or confusion that I thought I would write a Christmas special. It should answer some questions about them and give you holiday cheer. I might write more about them down the road, but I'm not planning on making it a big series or anything. Please remember to vote and leave comments!
Disclaimer: Everyone getting some is over 18 and happy with what they're getting.
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Mrs. Reid strolled up Hill Street, wishing she had worn more than her red and white Christmas sweater as the wind bit in harder at the crest of the hill. It made her readjust her cute little Santa's hat. She loved walking on her street in winter, when the tourists were distant memories and the fine old Victorian houses were decorated for Christmas. No snow yet, but if you didn't like the weather in Missouri, just wait a few hours. A few houses down from her own, she walked up the cobblestone path to her friend's Italianate home, singing 'Jingle Bells' under her breath. Cathy came to the door soon after she rang it. "Hello! Merry Christmas!"
Cathy invited her into the foyer of the old house to get warm. They had a lovely old house, but she couldn't help noticing the furniture was all modern, chintzy, and didn't really match the house. Jen poked through her oversized bag, bulging with items. "Here's a little something for your family," she said, producing a pint of homemade blackberry jam, and a loaf of sweet bread. "Oh, you shouldn't have honey! Thank you! I better keep that jam away from Gary, or he might leave me for you!"
"Don't worry, I don't want him. I got my hands full with Dennis. He's my horny little Devil!" Their grins became uneasy. Jennifer looked around the empty house cautiously. "How's that going, if you don't mind my asking?"
"Not great." Cathy motioned her neighbor outside, then lit up a cigarette on her own front stoop and breathed it out. "I tried everything, short of pulling the breaker box so the power goes out. He won't stop watching porn. He's on his computer every fucking day. He said it's nothing personal, I just don't do it for him anymore." She took another drag.
"That sounds pretty personal to me. You look like you're at the end of your rope with him. I'm so sorry. Holidays can be really stressful, even without that."
"No shit. Hey, um, I know I kinda crapped on your suggestion earlier, but .. that thing you said you could make? Could you still do it?"
Jen smiled so her dimples showed and nodded. "You sure you want to try it?"
"At this point, I'd ride a goat naked through the living room to get his attention. How long does it take to make a pentagon?"
"Pentagram, actually. And ... I hope you don't hate me, but I had a feeling you were going to need it. So .. I already made one." She dipped back into her bag, producing a wreath about as big across as her hand. Made of green vines with white berries, the ring encircled a five pointed star. "And again, this isn't satanic or anything. Most people don't know this, but the planet Venus does this in the sky," she drew a star pattern in the air with her finger. "Every five years. That's why the pentagram is the symbol for Venus, who is a fertility and love Goddess. The Church made it satanic later."
"We have to go to trivia night some time. Cool cool. What else do you need?"
"A few strands of your hair, and that lace we talked about." Cathy tossed her smoke into the bushes and nodded for her to come back inside. She ran upstairs and soon came back with several feet of ragged lace. "This enough?"
"More than enough." They went into the kitchen. First they wove some of her hair into the coils of mistletoe. Then Jen showed her friend how to wrap the remnant of lace torn from her wedding gown around the pentagram, binding it into knots.
"I can't believe I'm doing this. I must be desperate, making an actual love spell."
"Hey, he started it. And as long as he comes back to you, who cares, right? That's it. Finished. Now, this will have some effect just because you made it, but for max effect, it needs to be close to where he, uh, does his thing," she made a jacking motion with her hand. Cathy rolled her eyes. "The den. This way." They ended up concealing the chastity pentagram right under his office chair. "There. Now, that close to his junk, he won't have a chance. Porn won't even get him hard now, much less satisfy him. Only one thing will satisfy his horniness: you. Careful what you wish for though. You need to be available for him as a sexual outlet, otherwise he's gonna get real frustrated. Don't punish him with it. That's not what it's for. Bring him back with it."
"Like I said, I'll try anything. Thanks, neighbor," she said, hugging her goodbye and waving as Jen left and went down the street, delivering baked goodies and homemade preserves to all the neighbors. If anybody could actually hear the words to the carols she was singing, they would be surprised.
"Jingle Balls, lick them all, till they whine and beg... Hi Mr. Blackwell! Merry Christmas!" The old man waved back as she crossed the street. "Beg and plead, for dick relief, till cum drips down their leg, oh..."
Her next door neighbor's yard was a riot of inflatable plastic. A dozen large, cheap decorations were set up, with no thought to presentation or an overall theme. Thoughts of needles popping in the night went through her mind. She rang the bell, twice, and eventually a sleepy young man dressed in T shirt and boxers opened the door.
"Merry Christmas Martin! Is your Mom or Dad home?"
"Dad's at work. Mom's out shopping." He ran a hand through messy long hair. Long silence, like he didn't know what to do with an actual guest. "I was just dropping off a bottle of Christmas mead for your folks." She produced a golden yellow bottle from her bag. "What's mead?"
"It's like wine, only made from honey. Dennis makes it by the gallon. Say, I don't suppose you'd let me in for a sec? It's pretty cold to be standing out here in your underwear, right?"
"Yeah, okay." He let her in, and they went to the kitchen, where she put the mead on the counter. "I guess you're off work today then? How's that going?"
"I go in at four. Sokay."
"How's it going with the girl, what's her name? Betsy?"
"Becky. She still works there. I haven't actually asked her out yet, I guess."
She wagged a finger at him. "Now, we talked about this, Martin. Confidence. It's all about the confidence. You're a fine looking young man. A grown man, almost 21. No reason she wouldn't want to be with you. Have you been listening to that audio file I made for you? Does it help?"
He fidgeted. "I listen to it, but, it doesn't make me more confident, it just makes me ..."
She stepped closer, made him tilt his head up so he would look him in her bright green eyes. "How does it make you feel, Martin? Tell me the truth."
"Horny." She smiled at him and patted his cheek. "I'm sure it does. You remember when I caught you spying on me in the backyard last summer? I didn't get mad. I was flattered. I said we could be friends. Friends help each other, and keep each other's secrets. Tell me the truth. Have you told anybody about me?" He looked off to the side. "Nope."
Her expression grew hard. "Martin, you're lying. Come clean. Come on."
"Okay, I told a couple of my friends, but just that my neighbor was hot, and I saw her laying out naked sunbathing, and you played with yourself. That's all."
She folded her arms across her full chest. "I believe you. And thanks for saying I was hot. But I didn't play with myself when you spied on me." He shrugged. "Sounded better that way. I didn't say anything else, swear to God."
She dismissed his oath with her hand. "Don't bother with Him. I know when you've been bad or good, remember?" She pointed at her cute fuzzy Santa cap, grinning. "Here, sit down. I'm going to help you, because I know you kept my secret. Close your eyes." She stood behind him in the kitchen, rubbing his temples through his thick dark hair.
"What are you doing?"
"Boosting your confidence. The audio just doesn't quite do it justice. Lean your head back, relax." The short little housewife next door began to massage his shoulders, neck and scalp. The back of his head rested comfortably between her soft, full breasts. She began to whisper into his ears, first one side, then the other.
Martin. You are a confident, powerful man. Being a Man makes you strong and powerful. You have strength that women are instinctively attracted to.
Becky is attracted to you. All women at a base level need a man. The way you need women. Your manhood is strength and power. Women want to feel your strength. Becky wants to feel your manhood. Becky wants to submit to your male energy.
The whispers in his ears grew faster. There was something about her voice. It was sexy, low, had a weird echoey quality as she whispered faster. Her voice drove its way into his mind. Somehow it sounded like she could whisper in both ears at the same time, almost. It was getting him hard. She paused in her massage. "My, it is getting warm in here, isn't it?" A red and white sweater dropped into his lap. "What the shit!" Slender fingers on both sides of his head forced him to look ahead. "Now now, no peeking, Martin. Remember what I told you about peeping Toms?"
"Kinda, yeah. They go blind."
She continued to massage his head, around his ears. It felt great. She guided his head back to the resting spot between her breasts. "That name comes from the story of Lady Godiva. Everybody knows she rode through a town naked. What most don't know is why. Her husband was the Earl of the town, and was taxing the people too much. She saw their need, and argued with her husband for a year to lighten up. Finally he made her a bet: He would charge less tax if she would ride naked and humiliated before the peasants she was trying to save. She was a proper, noble woman. He never thought she would agree."
