%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "The Puzzled Partner"  It leaves you flushed and limp with desire: the thought of putting your (Chelsea's) pillowy lips to her (another Chelsea's) pillowy pussy. Stroking and squeezing and gripping another girl with a body just as delicious as yours. Burying your face in the same golden curls that tumble about your shoulders, but which tumble about hers. Your breath is coming in quick gasps as you press hungry fingers into Caleb's back and pull him close. But at the same time you stiffen with resistance. "We can do that later," you groan. "Tomorrow, when we have more time." "We got time now." Caleb's mouth is muffled in the crook of your neck, and his breath is hot against your skin. "Hours and hours. Got till midnight." "We got all day tomorrow." "And all day tomorrow," he agrees. "All day Sunday. We can eat each other out till Monday morning." Oh God! You almost faint with desire. But firmly you push at him until he steps back. "But not tonight, not now," you insist as you shove your hair off your flushed and sweating brow. "I've got things to do." "What things?" he asks. Then his mouth twists into an ugly snarl. "Oh, I get it," he says. "Chelsea things. Popular girl things. Things where I'm not welcome, where I'll—" "No! Well, okay, yes. But— Tomorrow! I promise, tomorrow. We'll—" "Fuck off, man." Caleb wheels toward his car. "Caleb! Don't be like this!" You throw your arm around his waist. Dimly it comes back to you that Chelsea often had to plead with Gordon this way when he got moody and tried stalking off. "You know I want to go off with you! God," you groan, "if you only knew how much—" You gulp as the desire rises again, like a gaping, many-toothed shark, to swallow you whole. "But I'm not even going off to do Chelsea things. I just think— I'm worried about Philip is all. Almost as soon as he left, I was thinking I shouldn't have let him go off by himself." "So you wanna hang out with Patterson instead." "No! I just need to keep an eye on him. It's work, basically." Speaking of which ... "Have you looked at the next spell in the book?" Caleb shrugs. "Oh yeah. Pff. Simple stuff." "Can you work on it tonight?" "Sure. Like I say, it's simple. I just gotta go out to the cemetery and dig up a couple of metric tons of dirt." * * * * * He's exaggerating, but after he explains what the next spell requires—a couple of hundred pounds of dirt taken from a graveyard, plus a lot of explosive chemicals—you see a way of making both you and him happy. Caleb rears back when you suggest getting Philip, with his new, very strong body, to help out, but he reluctantly agrees when you point out the alternative: he would have to dig up and transport all that dirt by himself. Besides, if the new spell calls for the equivalent of "rocket fuel," who better to help than a budding rocket scientist like Philip Fairfax? The downside, which bothers you at least as much as it bothers Caleb, is that it more or less involves sharing technical secrets with someone who you originally intended only to be a puppet. Almost as though you're bringing him into partnership. That's even the way you pitch it when you call the new Steve at the old one's number. "Hey, it's Chelsea again," you chirp when he answers with a wariness that's obvious even over the phone. "Listen, I've been doing some thinking, and I want us to hang out tonight. Tell you a little more about what's going on." You wrinkle your nose at Caleb, who is listening. "I want to bring you out to meet my secret partner. We'll start by getting an early supper and taking it back to our secret headquarters," you continue, "and plan from there. Trust me, you'll love it." Caleb sniffs after you've hung up. "You're not gonna try getting us into a three-way with you, are you?" "Don't be gross." "'Cos even if I'm in the other Chelsea mask—" "Do you want get into a three-way with him? Because it sounds to me like you're trying to get something like that going, except without making it sound like it's idea." Caleb gives you a beady glance. "Is that you or Chelsea talking? And are you being nasty or just scary perceptive?" "Wait, maybe you do want to be in a three-way with Steve?" "Ngh. Maybe I just want him watching." Caleb hunches up and avoids your eye. "Well, let's just see what happens. Okay? But come on, let's get out to the clubhouse and get things cleaned up." {center)* * * * * Steve, as per the arrangement, arrives at the old school with a supper he picked up at a supermarket: cold cuts and side dishes from the deli for him and Caleb, and a packaged chef salad for you. He wears an uncharacteristically worried expression as he treads slowly down into the dim basement. "How'd you get into this place?" he wants to know. And: "You're gonna get caught," he warns. Philip is also surprised to see Caleb, who of course he knows from school, and bluntly asks if he's "really" him. Caleb grunts an affirmative. "I'm not into the, uh, body switching," he says, and taps his forehead. "Can't let anyone know what I know, can't share what I've got upstairs about this stuff." "Caleb's in charge," you gush. "He's the mastermind. He's the one who knows how it all works!" You sense, rather than see, the sidelong look of surprise that Caleb gives you. "Really?" Steve says. "Caleb," you order, "show Philip the book. Explain it all to him." So you settle around one of the dusty, dented conference tables with the grimoire, and Caleb goes patiently through it, spell by spell, explaining what each one does, and lets Philip use his cell phone to double-check Caleb's translations and explanations of the text against the Latin originals. He gets very intense, and pulls at his lip thoughtfully as he soaks it all up, and asks a lot of probing questions that you and Caleb haven't thought to ask yourselves. (Like, "Can you make and wear a mask of an animal?" and "What happens if you mix a male and female form inside a single mask?") Caleb is forced to admit that you and he have been moving through the book by trial and error, moving on to the next spells without doing a lot of experimenting on the old ones—a confession that Fairfax seems unhappy with. Caleb also says nothing about the misadventures you've had along the way, and each time he comes close to dropping your real name, you nudge him under the table. But Philip is too sharp not to make some connections and deductions. "Gordon Black," he says before Caleb has even gotten to the new spell, and the help that you want from him out at the cemetery. He looks between the two of you before settling his gaze upon Caleb. "Did you guys do something to him?" Caleb stiffens. "Yes," he admits. "That was a, um, experiment that didn't go right. We didn't know how to fix it." "We?" Steve's eyes shift to you, and for the first time his voice and his icy gray eyes harden like the real Patterson's do. "Gordon was being a butt," you jump in before Caleb can start spilling secrets you'd still like to keep. "We just had the masks then, didn't have the, um, memory thingies. So we used two masks to, um, switch Gordon with someone else. To teach him a lesson." "Who did you switch him with?" "Dane Matthias," you blurt out before you can stop yourself. "That's how come Gordon's been so, um—" "Right." Patterson's gaze goes distant. "And Dane, didn't I hear—? Didn't he get sent away to some school out of state?" "Mm-hm." Actually, you're not a hundred percent certain of that. Chelsea told you she was being sent away, but you've been too busy your new scheme to do a follow up confirming that she's out of the way. "So we can't fix that thing. Anyway, that's how I— I mean, we—" You elbow Caleb in the ribs. "How we came up with the plan for you. And for some other people." You titter. Steve compresses his lips till they disappear, then asks Caleb to continue where he left off. * * * * * The explanations last until after dusk has fallen, with a lot of the time taken up with Caleb and Philip talking about the next spell. It sounds dangerous, and Philip particularly sounds skeptical, even a little scared. It calls for mixing up the graveyard earth with a lot of volatile chemicals, then setting it all on fire, and Fairfax refuses to help out unless the spell is performed out in the country someplace, rather than inside the basement. And then he also refuses to help you dig up the dirt. His manner is very cold and stiff when he suddenly gets up and leaves. You and Caleb exchange worried glances, and you hurry after him. He's already outside by the time you catch up. "What's wrong?" you ask as you grab him by the elbow. "Nothing's wrong," he says. "But you won't help out." "This is your project," he says. "It could be yours too. That's why we wanted to tell you about it." He says nothing. "Please don't act like you're a victim or something." He's silent for a long moment. Then he says, "You said you wanted to do this with other people. Who?" "Well, um." You take a deep breath. "Cindy Vredenburg. Kelsey Blankenship. They're a couple of cunts I'd like to ... improve." "Like you want to improve Steve Patterson. But who are you going to switch them with? Who are the guys, like me, that you are going to—?" "I haven't decided yet?" There's another silence. Then: "I have some friends." "Uh huh?" "If you invite them in," he says, "then I'll help. But you have to invite them in before. You can't ... ambush them like you ambushed me." That's all for now |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
