Sister's Magical Whoopsie.
"Oh no, this is bad. This is really,
really,
bad!" Nina whimpered, crouching beside the window and flipping desperately through her spellbook. "C'mon, there has to be a way to fix this!"
The old tome in her trembling hands was meant to be a joke--a gag gift from her twin brother Trevor to liven up their shared birthday. He'd said he bought it from a new second-hand bookstore across town.
A new store selling used goods had sounded odd but ultimately harmless in the greater scheme.
Except now, Trevor was next door plowing their neighbor, Mrs. Hatcher, over her kitchen island. Nina could see them clearly from her position, straight through the floor-to-ceiling French windows the middle-aged woman had installed last summer.
She'd said they provided more natural light. Today, they gave Nina an unfettered view of her brother hammering the mature beauty's well-padded rump from behind--her pastel sweatpants and boring panties ripped to tatters by Trevor's bigger, stronger hands--as she wailed out raptures of pleasure.
"Oh fuck! That's it, hunk! Smash my married pussy with that amazing dick!"
Mrs. Hatcher's dark hair was a touseled mess, fanned out in silky mahogany strands over the marble countertop, and her large, springy breasts were squashed flat against the surface in the solid black sports bra. Each rampant thrust from Trevor rocketed her entire body forward as if she would go flying were it not for her white-knuckled grip on the opposite edge.
"Yeah, take it, you MILF whore. Take my hard cock and tell me how much better I fuck than your dweeb husband!"
"Sooo~
much better... Oh god!" She cried, quaking with her fourth orgasm since he had barged into her suburban home twenty minutes earlier. "That shrimp-dicked wimp never had the balls to pound me like this!"
Trevor barely resembled the newly eighteen-year-old boy he had been that morning.
The thoughtful, contemplative youth with a lean runner's physique had...
swollen
--no other word for it--before Nina's eyes into a muscle-bound monster that had burst from his flannel pajamas like something from a cheesy horror flick.
Oh sure, the coppery hair they shared was still the same, and his sage green eyes were unmistakable, but otherwise, Nina's twin was a very changed man.
Trevor's back was an avalanche of rock-hard muscles, broad as a barrel and rippling with inhuman strength as he ravished their ecstatic neighbor with pummeling stabs of his enormous manhood. His glutes flexed most distractingly, and dimples formed above each hemispheric cheek.
Wide shoulders that could lift the heavens and heavily shredded limbs to match rounded out a chiseled appearance that would spark envy in world-class bodybuilders or the actors in those gladiator shows he watched.
Even his weak jawline had morphed into an anvil coated in ginger stubble that was fast becoming a proper beard.
And it was all because of that awful book and the stupid spell Nina had cast as a joke.
It was a dusty grimoire, so ancient the title was worn off the leather cover and spine. It contained some odd illustrations and decorative borders--Trevor had called them illuminations--and the language was foreign, with squiggly lines, dots, and circles above many letters.
"Ha, found you." She gasped in relief, finding the page that had kicked off the madness. It was yellowed with age, and the ink faded in parts, but the heading was still legible.
Blezun Hildisvíni
A picture in the top corner showed a blonde goddess bedecked in a cloak of flacon feathers, resting a glowing palm on the snout of a car-sized boar. It had seemed innocent enough at the time, and Nina had giggled through the incantation, doubtlessly mangling the pronunciation and pressing a finger to Trevor's nose in a similar fashion.
She wasn't laughing anymore.
Trying to block out the sound of her twin railing Mrs. Hatcher to fresh heights of carnal depravity, Nina studied the spell. Looking for any clue to undo the chaos she had wrought. The recent memory of watching them rutting like beasts didn't help her concentration; the slapping of their firm flesh colliding was like a thumping bass line in her skull.
"Here it comes, you horny skank!" Trevor's deep, masculine roar rattled the window panes. "Gonna stuff that fertile womb with a gallon of my goddess-blessed seed!"
"YEEESSSS~!!
Do it, you incredible hunk! Knock me up!"
The alien words swam on the page, and the image of the goddess turned to grace Nina with a beatific smile...
________________
Clothing was strewn across Nina's bedroom like shrapnel after a bombing.
Skirts, dresses, tops, and underwear lay in crumpled heaps on her bed and floor. She had plundered her wardrobe, drawers, and hangers in a feverish fit, not knowing what she sought but searching regardless.
The final verdict had been her high school uniform for some unknown reason.
It shouldn't have fit. By all accounts, Nina was a late bloomer, rake-thin and boyish in figure, growing marginally in her chest and lower half after graduation.
The sized-for-teen white schoolgirl blouse and red tartan necktie buttoned tight across her meager handfuls, exposing a swath of her featureless tummy. A dismally short pleated skirt hung from a nearly non-existent waist, barely covering her trim upper thighs. White knee-high socks and tennis shoes adorned Nina's pale legs and dainty feet.
As for underwear...
Underwear was proving to be a dilemma.
Every sensible pair of briefs or boyshorts Nina had so much as touched made her skin itch like the devil. Only the teensiest crismon thong she didn't remember owning was tolerable as a minor footnote concealing her nethers.
Bras were equally troublesome, to the point she had gone without and let her small beesting breasts rub against the starchy cotton top. Her nipples were two pink diamonds poking through the taut fabric.
Nina couldn't rightly fathom why the outfit change was important, that it had felt crucial at the time. The powerful compulsion to appear, if not exactly sexy--she had never been that--but more... available for a big, strong man's viewing pleasure was irresistible.
Now that it had passed, she could return to the tricky task of deciphering the spiraling words of the spell, smiling at the winking goddess, and occasionally stealing peeks of Trevor destroying their smoking hot neighbor's pussy.
Except he wasn't balls deep in Mrs. Hatcher's gushing cooch anymore. He had flipped her over with effortless ease, then climbed onto the countertop to straddle her fat mommy titties and jam his gigantic, cum-slathered cock between them.
The first plunge of his mighty hips obliterated the sturdy black sports bra like it was nothing.
Nina was struggling to focus on the spellbook resting in her lap.
"Oooh...
Urk!
Yaasss...
