Editor's note: this submission contains scenes of incest or incest content.
*
This piece is a tribute to a long-time writing partner and friend. He's a never-ending source of inspiration and has yet to fail at the task of sending my inner muse and my arousal straight into orbit. Mac, this one is for you.
---
Scarlett tore out of the Crone Home, panting and gasping. What she'd seen...It couldn't be possible. It simply couldn't be. She stumbled down the three steps on the porch, struggling to bring her magic to bear. It was just so fucking difficult, what with her nipples throbbing and her sex clenching.
She'd come up to her grandmother's house for an evening of talk and preparation. The Yule festivities would start tomorrow night. As the Maiden of the local covens, it was Scarlett's duty (and delight, truth be told) to take prime place at the rites. That involved picking from among the local young men for this year's Yule Lord, who would consummate the rites with her. Repeatedly.
Scarlett loved her position. She loved the responsibility, she loved guiding younger women to deepening their power and knowledge, and she loved the sex. She might have been called a 'hussy' in a less open society. But the mountain covens made no secret of where their true power lay. Their men were never foolish enough to shame the women for their sexuality. Priests from other lands and peoples might attempt to preach against 'heathen' ways and 'loose' women, but they found few converts in the forests and valleys.
There was only one young man in the village Scarlett hadn't yet had. Zachariah, recently returned from Dros Delnoch, where he'd trained to join The Legion, famed cavaliers who helped to defend the Emerald Throne from invaders and traitors. Zac had grown from a gangling youth who had dreams of wearing the viridian and black of The Legion into a strapping man, muscular and proud.
When Scarlett had met him, returning from training earlier than evening, she'd cast a simple cantrip that was one of the first tricks new witches learned. She'd had to catch her breath at what it revealed. Apparently, the weedy boy who'd gone to Delnoch was actually quite the man indeed. At eleven inches erect, Zac was the manliest man in the village. At least in that sense.
What she fled from now, though...Scarlett groaned as her mind drifted back to what she'd seen in her grandmother's house, the Crone Home. As the Crone and primary matriarch of the local covens, her grandmother laid claim to the old stone house that rested at the strongest confluence of leylines for a dozen leagues. The place always hummed with power, crackling with energy and tension.
Tonight, though...Scarlett had first realized something was wrong as soon as she stepped inside. Instead of the statue of the Hecate that normally stood on the mantle, there was a new idol there. It was carved from wood, rather than the beautiful rose marble of the Hecate piece. It took Scarlett a moment to recognize what it was. A wolf. Not just a wolf, but a Wolf, one of the Canid Beastkin that comprised the Pack.
Scarlett couldn't help wondering why her grandmother had position the strange idol in the prominent spot. Their covens didn't venerate Geri or Freki. They respected the wolf gods of the hunt and of sexual pleasure, as they did all deities. But the witches didn't pray to them or dedicate their lust rites to the lupine god and goddess.
The scents in the air were the second indication something wasn't right. Her grandmother burned all manner of herbs and incense, depending on what the needs of her current spellcasting were or what kind of mood she was in. These scents, though, were less familiar. After a moment, Scarlett placed the one that was burning in the Canid idol's bowl. Lupwine. That brought Scarlett up short. The herb was known to the covens but used sparingly. It could break fevers and cure infections, but the side effects...Bestial rage and hunger. A heat unlike anything even the most maddened animals experienced. And fertility. Ridiculous, quadruplet bearing fertility.
Women under the influence of Lupwine were little better than bitches in heat, unable to do aught else but fuck. Scarlett felt the first stirrings of the burning need in her mind and her belly, and quickly cast an enchantment that would protect her from the effects. Her distraction caused her casting to be sloppy, and she only blocked out most of the scent. It was partially due to the burning Lupwine already working on her, but also because of the other scent. Scarlett placed it now.
Musk. Canid Musk. Each young witch in the mountain covens was exposed to a small amount of the stuff during their training. While Canid raids were relatively infrequent, the possibility of Lone Wolves or small bands of Pack members raiding across the passes was never beyond reckoning. The Musk came from Canid coc....Penises, Scarlett forced herself to think. It was a combination of sweat and seed and other excretions. Exposed to Musk, women were reduced to beasts. Wild, incapable of thought, except for serving their new Mate. Lust witches exposed to Musk in any quantity were driven to alter their bodies, to become the perfect breeding partner for the Canid in question. Scarlett already felt the urge and had in fact cast a charm to expand her bust line without thinking.
Before she could counter her own spell, the buttons on her tunic strained, then popped off. She stared at her bigger, firmer breasts in mild shock, then hurriedly cast the spell that would shield her from the Musk. Again, though, her distraction and growing arousal caused her to fumble the casting, and she was only shielded from most of the effects.
Scarlett stared in bemusement as sweat popped and ran down her chest. She was...She was very hot. The Lupwine...The Musk...They were raising her internal temperature. She groaned softly as the rivulets of liquid ran down from her upper chest, runnels speeding over the broadened plains of her breasts and falling from the jutting peaks of her newly thickened nipples. The air of the Crone Home, even as heated as it was, felt freezing on the thin paths of fluid. Scarlett shivered, and resisted the urge to test her new breasts with her hands.
It was then that the panting, gasping young witch finally noticed the sounds. The slap of flesh against flesh, the loud, thick moans, the low, guttural growls. All of it was coming from the bedroom at the back of the house. Her grandmother's bedroom. Scarlett stumbled to the open door and stared in with growing horror and arousal.
Her grandmother crouched at the edge of her bed. Her skin, a beautiful warm shade of tan, was slick with sweat. Her short cropped grey hair flicked beads of moisture into the air as she pushed backward. Her breasts, much larger than the last time Scarlett saw them, jumped and bounced. And her hips...Grandma Rose's hips thrust backward obscenely, eagerly, to meet the thrusting of the massive Canid that stood next to the bed.
Scarlett moaned in tandem with her grandmother, a base, animal hunger awakening in the pit of her stomach. As she watched the Canid take her Grandma Rose, she unconsciously cast two new spells. After all, her body couldn't match her grandmother's now. Her ass rounded out, providing a nice counterbalance to her new breasts. She reached back before she could stop herself, moaning as she felt the wonderfully plump pillows her cheeks had become. Perfect for thrusting into, she thought. Her thighs also thickened, the better to squeeze a man's body with when he was between her legs. Or a beast's body, Scarlett found herself thinking in a daze.
