Author's Note - Hello everyone, here's a better-late-than-never Halloween tale. It's a long story as to why it wasn't published here earlier, which I won't get into. Suffice it to say I love Halloween and the fall season and wanted to get it out here, even at this late date. I also have a story with a more general autumn theme that I'll be releasing soon, so keep an eye out for that.
However please be advised that this work contains (among other things) strong adult language, magic, elements of reluctance and seduction, brief mentions (but not vivid descriptions) of nonhuman/group sex, voyeurism and of course hot and sweaty incest.
All characters in sexual situations are 18 or older. And please keep in mind this is fantasy, so of course things happen here or are taken to extremes that are impossible or improbable in what we call the real world.
Thanks, and enjoy the story!
*
HOW IT ALL STARTED
I was well and thoroughly fucked, as I had never been fucked before.
But before I get into all that, I suppose introductions are in order. My name is Melody, short for Melodora if you must know. But don't ever call me that, or you might just end up on my bad side. Just ask Sam, who made an abrupt career change from burglar to housecat. By the way, did I mention I'm a witch? I only bring it up now because that fact is of some relevance to the story I'm about to relate.
And don't let my sweet-sounding name fool you - I'm no Glinda the Good Witch, going around in frilly outfits and a song in my heart helping lost farm girls in distress, but neither do I go around luring hapless kids into gingerbread houses, turning people into newts left and right for fun, or trying to take over the world (I do wear a lot of black, just because I look FABULOUS in that color). I do, however, frequently engage in activities that bend and break many of the ethical guidelines of both the human and witching worlds, a lot of which is described in the coming pages. Sometimes they're done for a good reason, other times just for kicks. Consider yourself warned.
As you might suspect of dubious character like me, I have quite the array of vices, which will become obvious as you read on. I'll go ahead and mention gambling up front, just because it's really what started this whole mess. Unfortunately, I didn't have the skill or luck to go along with the compulsion, and for the unquenchable thrill and rush of the games I often found myself deep in debt. Now if this was just normal human gambling with money as the stakes, it'd be no problem since there's oodles of ways I could conjure that up without batting an eye, or batting a bat as they say in my world.
But no, in the magic world that you regular humans like to pretend doesn't exist for the sake of your brittle sanity, the stakes are much higher - spells, magic talismans and the like, and I've even heard that some play for souls, even though I myself have never participated in such unspeakable activities (not when I was sober anyway, which I swear accounts for at least a good half of my earlier years).
But even when I found myself facing down an angry warlock or irate elf demanding that I pay up after I'd lost my shirt yet again (an unobstructed view of which you think would be payment enough, considering how impressive my rack is even by otherworld standards) all I'd have to do was pull some sort of enchanted trinket or potent spell out of the impressive collection my parents had left all to me (thanks to a little of that aforementioned ethical ambiguity on my part, pissing off my sisters and other relations to no end).
Anyhoo, I'd lost quite a few precious articles this way, but it was better than the grim fate that awaited all who didn't pay up their gambling bills in a timely manner (think debt collectors in the human world, but a thousand times more vicious, and armed with deadly magic), and all in all it worked well for all concerned.
That is, until the day I made the mistake of playing with a real shit of a Sorcerer with a spiked wand up his backside and lost worse than I'd ever lost before. But I'd been more sloshed than usual that night, and I don't have to tell you what alcohol does to your reasoning and decision-making capabilities.
"No, no, no," he grunted, tossing aside the sheet I'd handed him that listed all of the spells and remaining items I had to pay off my ginormous debt with an air of disdain. "Your spells are interesting, but they lack the style and elegance I'm accustomed to, and I already possess superior forms of all your baubles. I'm afraid there's nothing here of interest to me that would come close to paying off your sizeable debt."
Sorcerers, such gods-damned snobs
, I thought to myself, but not yet losing heart. "Perhaps there's some other arrangement we can come to," I said seductively, leaning forward and giving him a better view of my aforementioned shirtless and magnificent chest. I'd had to pay off a few times like this before, and even though I'd walked funny for a week after the Cyclops, it'd still been better than the alternative.
But the sorcerer, who called himself Melgius, only sneered through his carefully manicured goatee. "You severely underestimate my station, and my sense of self-worth, if you think I would ever dream of laying with a common witch whore."
I bristled at that. I may not be very far up the magical ladder, not even considered worthy to join a coven (although that was more due to my colorful reputation than skill). But I was hardly common, I thought, giving a quick glance to my ample mounds, beautiful in that natural, pert, and pillowy way which not even spell work could duplicate so perfectly.
Not that my magical abilities were anything to scoff at either. I'd been mostly what you'd call home-schooled and self-taught, but even so I was willing to bet I could easily hold my own with this snoot, who'd spent the whole game bragging about how he'd graduated top of his class at the Academy. I probably would have too, if I hadn't been kicked out for throwing an impromptu orgy in the Great Hall just when the Council for the Advancement of Moral Rectitude was scheduled to meet there.
Yes, I could take this little prick no problem, but the debt enforcer squad he'd no doubt send after me were another story. "Well, what
do
you want?" I asked, trying not to let my anxiousness to make a deal, any deal, show.
"One of the few items I have not yet been able to acquire, a Freithlon Stone."
Gee, I thought sarcastically as my spirits sank, and here I'd thought King Assface was going to ask for something hard. I'd had one of these Stones, but it'd been among one of the first items I'd traded away. Very rare, and as I'd found out to my chagrin later, worth far more than the debt I'd paid off with it and the entire rest of my collection put together.
So now what?
I thought ruefully, having no idea where to find one or how to afford it even if I did.
Wait a minute
, I thought with a surge of hope,
hadn't I seen a method for making one in of my dad's older books way back in the super-rare-be-careful-because-this-is-probably-the-only-remaining-copy-in-existence volumes?
Yes, I was sure of it, but I'd been busy perusing for info on some other doodad and hadn't paid it much attention. But the fact was it existed was enough. After all, creation of magical objects had been one subject I'd excelled at in the Academy before my unjust dismissal.
"Alright," I said, "Shall we set delivery for two standard earth months from today?" Even though we had our own systems of reckoning time, human measurements were still preferred since so much business was conducted in that realm and was where many of us magic practitioners, of human stock anyway, chose to call home. And given that most items took around a month or so to produce, I thought I'd try to give myself a little extra, just in case there were unforeseen difficulties with such a rare object. Plus, it'd be easy to remember, since it would be the day after my birthday. My birthday is Halloween, if you're wondering.
"Oh, really?" he said, cocking an eyebrow, no doubt surprised at my confidence. "How? You are aware that Freithlon Stones are among the rarest of magical talismans, and that the working (what we call instructions for making magical objects) for creating them has been lost and forgotten?" He asked warily, no doubt thinking I was just blustering, buying time to get out of town, so to speak.
Not so lost as you think.
"I'm well aware of their scarcity," I said testily. "Just leave the details to me. I may be many things, Melgius, but I'm not a welcher. If you want a Freithlon Stone, then you'll get one."
Melgius regarded me for a long moment, before finally extending his hand. "Agreed," he said. "One of the first tier, and absolutely nothing less," he added firmly. "I don't suppose I need to remind you of what will happen if you fail to deliver?"
Wait, there were different tiers? Fuck, I really needed to bone up on the finer details of my profession instead of watching so much daytime tv
, I thought to myself as we shook on our arrangement. "I'm fully aware of the consequences. You'll get your Freithlon Stone, first tier and on time," I assured him.
"Very well. I'll be in touch to let you know when and where I'll take delivery," and with that he was gone in a puff of smoke without so much as lifting a finger. Arrogant jackass, someone ought to turn him into one.
*
A short while later I was back home with my top back on, in my secret study and lab, adjacent to my regular study behind the obligatory secret door. I sat in a swivel chair at an old desk, flipping through ancient and musty books, searching for the magical working I needed when a sarcastic growling noise broke my concentration.
"Well, well, if it isn't Melody pilfering her inheritance again. So, which of your family's priceless and hard-won items and knowledge are you exchanging for your right to continue breathing this time, at least until the next poker match?" The voice asked sardonically.
I looked up irritably as Sam, the thief-turned-tabby, sauntered into the room with an air of casual feline arrogance. Normally I'd dust anyone who threatened me or my family without a second thought, but when I'd caught him breaking into our basement, he hadn't shown the slightest trace of fear or aggression, only curiosity, even when it was obvious what I was when I flung him against the wall and immobilized him with a few words and a wave of my hand.
