The Witch's Cousins

Book 2 of "The Coven Chronicles"

The Witch's Daughter

Our story so far:

The Chamberlains are a family of pagans and witches living in Des Moines, Iowa. Worshiping the Goddess, they wait for the time of the Crossing for the two youngest members of the family, twin brother and sister John and Susanna Chamberlain. The Crossing is a period of heightened sexual desire during which their bodies will be driven to find mates and to sire children. Unbeknownst to both John and Susanna, John has been chosen as the father of the next generation of Chamberlain children, due to the inability of his older cousins and sister to find mates, who must be men of power.

One night in May, both John and Susanna Cross. However, an ancient evil known as the Dark One has been lying in wait for them. It influences Susanna to a state of frantic lust, and does the same to John, invading and overcoming his mind. It is only through the last-minute intervention of Claire Chamberlain, their mother, that the Dark One is driven off.

Following their rescue, Claire explains to the children that they are the descendants of a High One, who mated with their many-times grandmother hundreds of years ago. In exchange for a continuation of their line, the Goddess has decreed that all their sexual encounters must be done in love, or both their line and power will fail. Claire explains the need for John to mate with Susanna, and also with his sister Eleanor and cousins, Hilda and Agatha.

John agrees to this, and that night takes Susanna as his first mate. On the same night, in the same bed, he takes his mother as his lover as well.

Our story continues...

Chapter 1

The next morning, John woke up feeling wonderful. He was cuddled with his sister in the bed in the guest bedroom, with his hands clasped protectively over her belly and his groin nestled against her rear. Blinking in the bright light coming in from the eastern window, he took a moment to recall the life-altering events of the previous evening. He shuddered as he recalled the dark force that drove him towards Susanna before his mother came to their rescue.

Taking a deep breath, he inhaled Susanna's scent. She smelled of clean skin and strawberry body wash. Sometime in the night she must have gotten up to take a shower. Squinting at the clock on the wall, he saw it was nearly eight in the morning.

Showering sounds like a good idea. I should clean up before the rest of the coven arrives.

He vaguely remembered his mother waking them up late at night to tell them the rest of the family would be "visiting" the next morning.

More like coming to see the sacrificial lamb,

he thought. John was not at his best in the mornings, and was usually as cross as two sticks until he had a big glass of juice, breakfast, and the sports page of the

Des Moines Register.

Quietly he disentangled himself from Susanna. She made a sleepy, happy noise when he kissed her cheek, but he was able to get up without waking her. He quietly padded through the upstairs hallway in the big, rambling house in the north part of Des Moines, passed the other bedrooms, and got into the shower. Soaping up, he considered his cock.

"If an erection lasts longer than 4 hours, please consult your physician," he said, mocking the boner-pill adds that seemed to run non-stop on his favorite sports channels on TV. Unless it had gone down during the night, he didn't think his erection had subsided at any time between last night and this morning. And it certainly didn't appear to be in a hurry now.

Just as well,

he thought,

If Mom was right, I am going to need all the help I can get over the next few months. Might make things a bit awkward in the locker room, though.

He suppressed a hysterical giggle. It was as if he had fallen through a portal into a different world. Less than a day ago, his thoughts had been on a baseball game and getting ready for his last-ever round of finals in high school. Now he found himself the chosen vessel to impregnate four incredibly hot women, all of them his relatives, in order to continue the bloodline of his coven.

And apparently we have a pretty damn big enemy as well. Suzy might have forgotten that, but I haven't. We should have a talk with Mom sometime today. It sounded like Mom has a history with that thing. And now Suzy and I do as well. We owe him a little payback.

Working quickly, he soaped and rinsed, washed his hair and dried off. Remembering his mother's words from the previous evening, he shaved, brushed his teeth, and rinsed his mouth out. Walking back down the hallway, he meant to go to his room and dress before the rest of the thundering herd made an appearance. Somehow, though, his feet led him back into the guest bedroom. Susanna was still asleep. She was no longer curled on her side, but instead lay on her back, with the sheet which had been their only covering twisted so he could see the long, lean, length of her right leg.

Almost involuntarily, he went into the bedroom. He could smell the scent of her gentle arousal. Coming closer to the bed, he could see her hips rock slightly, driven by small motions of her buttocks, and see the way the petals of her sex were half-unfurled.

She is dreaming about me

, he thought.

I should wake her up the best possible way.

Moving quietly, almost furtively, he carefully removed the sheet from her body. He then draped his body across the bottom half of the bed, blessing his mother for having the foresight to buy such a large canvas for the art of their lovemaking. Whispering a prayer to the Goddess, praying that he would not make an error, he positioned his head between his sister's thighs and licked her pussy for the very first time.

If he expected the instant orgasm of a woman driven mad by the skill of his tongue, he was disappointed. Instead, Susanna shifted slightly above him, but gave no other hint that she was aware of his presence. With her tangy taste on his tongue, John continued to lick her, hoping to give her pleasure, hoping even more that she would wake up and let him know what he was doing right, if anything.

This would have been a hell of a lot easier if you would have waited for her to wake up, dumbass,

he thought to himself.

Not terribly easy to get assembly instructions when the only person who knows the directions is sound asleep.

Still, he persevered, lapping doggedly at the area where he vaguely remembered from his sex-ed classes the clitoris might be located.

Something

must

be happening, he thought, darting a look up Susanna's belly, past the sweet peaks of her breasts, and to her face. Although her eyes were still tightly closed, her face was flushed, and her nipples had drawn into the tight little points he adored so much. And her belly? Was that trembling the precursor to a woman's ultimate pleasure?

He glanced up again. The eyes were too tight. The face was too flushed. And the trembling was not an impending orgasm, but instead ...

Giggling.

"You're laughing at me," he said flatly. Susanna's eyes opened.

"Well, yes, a little," she admitted, her eyes merry. "You looked so

cute

down there. Like Pocus at her water bowl. And it was so obvious you had no

idea

what you were doing, but you kept trying anyway," her hand caressed his cheek.

"It was kind of sweet," she said, backing up the bed until she was in a half-sitting position, supported by a bank of fluffy pillows. "Come on up here with me. This angle is giving me a crick in my neck."

John inched his way up the bed, but did not leave his position between her legs.

"Now, let's see," Susanna grinned wickedly, "I don't have any problem guessing what you were trying to do, but you have a lot to learn about how to do it!"

"Give me a break, Sis, it's only my second day," grumped John. "You might have been better at giving me head, but my wang is out there in front of the Goddess and everybody. All your bits are...hidden! I'm working without a map, here!"

Above him Susanna's face gentled. "I know you are, honey. And I appreciate the effort. So let's make sure you know what you are doing."

Susanna laid her feet flat on the bed, raised her knees, and spread her legs wide. With her fingers, she gently parted her nether lips so her most delicate parts were exposed.

"Here is my clit," she said softly, dipping a finger into her wetness, then gently rubbing the tip against the small nub of flesh. "Would you like to touch it?"

John nodded jerkily. Following her example, he wet his finger in her damp folds, then softly made contact with her most sensitive organ. Above him, Susanna softly hissed in pleasure. John drew his face closer. Now that he knew where to work, he wanted to see if his tongue was as effective on her as hers had been on him. Looking upwards for permission, he buried his face in the junction of her thighs and made use of the lesson she had taught him. Wiser now, he flicked his tongue over her button.

"Softer, Johnny," she said, and he made his motions smaller, less jerky. "Yes, that's better. Remember," she said, her voice starting to hitch, her hips to buck upwards, "Treat every...every inch of me like you want me to treat...to treat the head of your cock," his tongue slid up her slit, finding her clit, then lightly flicked the tip. Taking cues from her reactions, he settled into long slow strokes, trying to keep his tongue on her clit as long as possible. Greatly daring, he wet an index finger and inserted in gently into her love canal, timing his stokes to match those of his tongue, while his other hand firmly gripped the muscled flesh of her rear, showing her the urgency of his passion.

Her reaction was everything he could have desired. Keening softly, she grabbed her breasts, rolling and pinching the nipples between her fingers, then let go to take hold of his head, forcing him to service her as she ground her pubis into his face.

John felt like he was drowning in flesh. Susanna's thighs had clamped about his ears, and his mouth tried desperately to please his sister, licking and sucking on every surface his tongue could reach. His upper lip was pushed back against his teeth as she ground her mons against him. Only his nose was clear, and he blessed the Goddess in his mind that he would not be forced to break away from Susanna in order to breathe. Her desire inflamed him, and his own hips ground down into the mattress, forcing his raging erection into the bed.

Susanna's pleasure peaked. One last stroke of his tongue sent her over the edge and her feet pushed down on the bed, forcing her entire body off the mattress. Her thighs spread wantonly and her hips bucked. One hand reached down and pulled John's head aside by the hair, as the other frigged her clit, trying to extend her pleasure.

As soon as the orgasm crested, she pulled John by his hair to her face. Kissing him deeply, she looked into his eyes.

"Good job, bro. Now fuck me."

John did not need to be told twice. He pushed Susanna's legs onto his shoulders so that her cleft was fully exposed. Taking a split second to rub his head in her juices so that he would have an easy entry, he split her steamy sheath with one long sure stroke. Kneeling over her, he gathered her breasts in her hands and fondled them as he drove into her over and over again, reveling in the feel of her moist flesh around his cock.

Almost too quickly, he felt his prick expanding, muscles throbbing, ready to shoot millions of sperm into his sister's fertile pussy.

"Susanna, I'm going to...going to..."

"Yes, Johnny. Do it. Shoot your load into me. Do it!"

Her dirty talk sent him over the edge. He dropped to her face and kissed her as his manhood exploded deep within her, whispering words of love and lust that sent her spiraling into a second orgasm of her own.

*******

John glanced at the clock.

Eight forty-seven. Damn it.

He heard a car in the driveway. And hadn't there been some noise downstairs while he was eating Susanna out? His mother was almost certainly up, and it sounded like at least one of their relatives had already arrived.

"We should really clean up and get dressed, Suzy."

"Get dressed, maybe. But I'm not cleaning up."

John looked at his sister. There was a stubborn look in her eye.

"Today you'll probably fuck Eleanor or Agatha or Hilda. Maybe even Aunt Sybil, though I doubt it. After today, you'll have two mates, and I will have to share you. I can learn to accept it, though right now I don't like it.

"When we go downstairs, I want them to smell you on me. It is petty and it is small, but I want them to know that whatever happens today, I was your first."

John smiled and kissed her deeply, tongue tracing the sweet curve of her lips.

"I love you, Susanna. What happens today won't change that," he dropped his hand to her belly, "Do you think we..."

"Made a baby? No, not last night. Today it is too early to tell. Your little spermies are still squirming their way up my tunnel, trying to reach the egg," she smiled at his expression.

"We are witches, Johnny. Of course we'll know when you knock us up. You would know too if you took the time to try." Her hand covered his as it lay on her stomach, "Concentrate."

John's eyes opened wide. He had felt it! Felt the tiny thrashing mass of sperm inside his sister, moving slowly, oh so slowly, up her uterus towards the place where her egg was waiting. Even as he concentrated, he felt thousands of pinprick-fine motes go out, dying in their attempt to fertilize his sister's ovum.

He looked at Susanna, face bleak.

"Mother told me about it long ago. She told me that we could feel it if we tried, but that it was best not to. So many deaths to make one life." Her voice was sad. She forced a smile onto her face. "So now you know. And when the time comes and we make a baby together, think of how awesome it will be to feel it happen!"

Nodding and thoughtful, John left the bedroom and went to get dressed.

Chapter 2

John came downstairs and into a scene of controlled chaos in the kitchen. Despite his aunt's injunction on arriving before nine o'clock, it seemed that his cousins and sister had decided to jump the gun. They were all there and had been dragooned by his mother into creating a huge breakfast.

But what really caught the eye was how they were dressed. Or in some cases, not dressed. Hilda was wearing a pair of shorts that could only be called that because they were made of denim. Cut low over the hips and high up the thigh, the ragged edges trailed over her ass-cheeks as she bent to take a batch of biscuits out of the oven. When she straightened and turned around, he could see her top, an old short sleeve button-up that she had tied beneath her breasts so that it cupped and lifted her mounds into a mouth-watering vision that would have an entire junior high running into their bathrooms and locking the doors.

Eleanor was even more provocative. At first he thought her checked apron was a concession to her duties making pancakes at the stove. But when she turned to grab another ladle of batter, he saw she was nude from the waist up, her breasts swaying with her motions, forcing the eye to follow them. And he then noticed that the apron, tied in the back, left her rear end completely bare, and that he could see her pussy flashing its lips at him lewdly.

For a wonder, Sybil had not tried to outdo her younger relatives, though she was ravishing in her own right. While they provoked with brazen displays of flesh, Sybil, sitting with his mother at the kitchen table, did so by hiding it. Her skin-tight jeans left everything and nothing to the imagination, and her sensible t-shirt was thin enough so he could see her breasts bounce as she laughed at a remark that John's mother made.

Claire was sitting across the table from her sister. Unlike Sybil, she was still in her morning clothes. A vision of matronly sexiness, she had chosen a fog-blue peignoir that clung to her curves in misty abandon.

He saw Agatha last and smiled. It was so like Agatha to dress in something sensible while everyone else was trying to one-up each other. She was at the kitchen counter, preparing a tray of fruit. Then she turned, and he gasped, overcome by desire.

John had thought Agatha was wearing an ordinary ivory sundress, only falling to mid-thigh, and cut low over the chest to expose her cleavage, but when she moved across the kitchen to place the tray on the table, the light struck her and he knew she would be his next mate. The light shone through her dress, making it a gauzy thing of light and shadow, outlining her braless breasts. Unaware of his attention, she turned to answer a question by his mother, mouth curving in a grin.

"I've been waiting for three years to get rid of that crap, Aunt Claire. I poured it down the sink as soon as I got home last night. What about you, Hildy?" she asked over her shoulder at her sister, who was transferring the biscuits to a cloth-covered tray. "What did you do with the potion?"

"Dumped it into the toilet and peed on it for good measure," said Hilda with a full-throated laugh, "What about you, Eleanor?"

Eleanor flipped several pancakes, "We might need it again sometime," she said soberly. "I've got it in the back of the car and I'm going to put it in the freezer at the store. It'll keep for a long time there. If we ever get someone there who might need it, we'll be prepared."

"Someone who might need it? Who the hell is going to need a potion that tastes like ass and only serves to turn down the knob of your sexual volume?" Hilda hooted.

"Lots of people," said Eleanor, her serious demeanor completely at odds with her sex-fantasy outfit. "A woman who is scared of her husband, but has to calm him to give herself time to break away. A young girl who loves a young man, but needs time to get ready to take the next step. Even," her voice hardened, "one of us. We hold ourselves in judgement sometimes. This might serve as a fitting punishment for one who offends us or the Goddess."

"You see deep, Eleanor," said Sybil, "I think your idea is the right one. By all means, put it in the store. But please," she said with a smile, "label it clearly."

All the women laughed, and John entered the room.

Immediately, all conversation stopped. Their eyes locked onto him and his body. He was dressed in a pair of flannel sleep shorts and a much-worn University of Illinois t-shirt. But to their eyes he might have been a Greek god come down from Olympus. They drank him in, and as he walked towards the table, Hilda and Eleanor both left their spots near the stove to converge upon him, eyes hot with lust.

And stopped, as he came to Agatha, put his arms around her waist, tipped her disbelieving head back, and kissed her.

Agatha shook with joy and wrapped her arms tight around his neck as they kissed, tongue darting into his sweet mouth. Her left leg came up and hooked around his knee and she sighed as his hand ran up and down her thigh.

They parted, and Agatha wept tears of joy as she lay her head against his chest. John looked at the rest of the coven.

"She's next," he said.

Hilda frowned angrily, "John, you can't just decide for all of us who is next. Why Agatha and not me or Eleanor?"

"So glad you included me," Eleanor muttered.

"Hilda, stop it," said Sybil, "I don't think it was John who chose. Was it, John?"

"No, Aunt Sybil," said John, still locked in an embrace with Agatha. "It just...seemed right."

"The power knows," said Claire resignedly, "And the Goddess. I suppose we have to trust her." She shared an amused look with Sybil. "To be honest, children, we had intended John and Agatha to be next, anyway. Agatha has spent so much time hiding from herself, and," she shot a look at Hilda and Eleanor and Susanna, who had just entered the room, spectacularly nude, "from you, that we thought it would be a good idea if we rigged the process so that Aggie was the next one chosen. Obviously, the Goddess intended the same result, only working in a different way."