Chance Gim's Black Arts Magick PLan!

And, if there was a slow moment, which there
hasn't been too many of lately, they always had
the films in their rapidly growing library of Black
Magick porn to gander at. Or what have you.

Enter Yolanda . . .

* * * * * *

YOLANDA, the latest novitiate, had already been primed. Chance's first meeting with her was the getting-to-know- us crapola. Of Magic and Power and Mind. Blah, blah. As usual, he cleverly left out any mention of Sex.

She had breezed right through the next two sessions, including the Thelema Tub ridiculousness, and seemed to be overly eager in her search for real magic, of the Magickal kind.

Thus, Yolanda's fourth session would be, it seemed, a no-brainer . . .

* * * * * *

AFTER CHANCE had talked to her, quite briefly it had seemed to him, Yolanda seemed very eager to get to the sperm swallowing part. Women, thought Chance, I'll never live long enough to figure them out.

So, without too much waste of time, Yolanda proceeded to blow the three men, each in turn, swallowing their entire male cum power. With what seemed like great relish.

Yolanda

Then she surprised the boys by
saying, still down on her knees on
the suck and swallow platform,
"Tell me, my High Priest, if I get
power from swallowing all of your
delicious male sperm, do I get
even more power by fucking all of
you and taking your sperm deep into my hot, tight cunt? For if I do, boys, let's get to it. I need all the power I can get my hands on. Hee hee!"

She sat there, on her haunches, looking very cat like. Christ, Chance could swear he even heard her purr. Ditto for Ben and Jerry.

Well, lordy, lordy, Yolanda, you freaky thing, you. You know, dear reader, as I know, the boys didn't have to be asked twice. The High Priest, as is only right and proper in these matters, went first. Besides, he didn't like sloppy seconds or gloppy thirds, as you know, and this time, he didn't need to direct her. She was a starlet eager to perform, or so it appeared.

* * * * * *

AND FUCK HER the three boys did, those crazy ass magicians, with the fuck order going from Chance to Ben to Jerry. And she loved it, too, judging by her loud, almost inhuman, screams, yells, and moans.

Right after Chance had helped her out of the leather straps, she stood up, the cum fairly oozing out of her, and seemed to collapse. Right down to the floor, her head looking downward as if noticing a stain on the carpet. Then she recovered herself somewhat and looked up at them, her eyes going one to the other, from Jerry to Ben to Chance. Then back again.

She pulled her legs in toward her body and just sat there, one hand on the carpet propping her up. Then she smiled at the boys, a weird smile, and a very strange smile. With a touch of something sinister about it. She looked a tad deranged, just sitting there, not moving, and smiling like a blithering idiot.

Chance broke the silence, "Are you okay, Yo? Can we
do . . .?"

Then the magic took place. The real magic. The magic that has no need to have the letter K nailed to its ass.

Right in front of the boys' eyes, Yolanda started to whirl in place, like a top, no worse, more like a tornado, faster and faster. It was impossible, but it was taking place. She was spinning like a dervish, and becoming, with each revolution, a mere blur to them.

Then the sound! A horrible, high-pitched sound. "Maaaagiiiic!" And it seemed to come from somewhere in the center of the tornado. Which now was slowing down a bit. "Maaaagiiiic!"

Chance started backing up. Instinct telling him he had better put some space between himself and the whirling, twirling Yolanda. Then the tornado stopped completely and Yolanda was no more.

In her place was the vilest creature imaginable. It was short, under 3 feet, naked and fat and muscular and puke colored. With blazing red and yellow eyes and a mouth the size of a soccer ball.

In the large, cavernous mouth could be seen razor sharp yellowed teeth, the kind found only in the largest sharks. Or in one's most horrible nightmares.

It started moving slowly toward Ben, who seemed frozen in place, a step at a time. "Maaaagiiiic!" it screamed, the large mouth baring its sharp teeth. It was now less than twelve feet away from him.

"Maaaagiiiic!" Ben backed up some, feeling his legs go funny and unresponsive. "Maaaagiiiic!" it screamed at him again, its eyes blinking rapidly.

The other two, Chance and Jerry, were too scared to even move. Or speak. So they just watched in horror as the creature stood there bellowing and moving closer to the also frozen Ben. "Maaaagiiiic! Maaaagiiiic!" It had stopped in its tracks, its head thrown back.

"Maaaagiiiic!"

It then looked right at Ben, who had no control over his legs at all. Nor over his bowels. Standing there, frozen with fear, he pissed and shit his pants at the same time.

Then it moved again toward Ben. "Maaaagiiiic!"

"No, don't . . . !" were the only words Ben got the chance to utter before the wild-eyed creature, in a move that defied logic, leaped from ten feet away right onto Ben's black-robed chest, grabbed his neck with both hands, and, using his large, soccer ball mouth with the razor sharp shark's teeth, bit his head clean off his shoulders, the blood spurting out so hard it hit the black ceiling and dripped back down onto the solid black carpeting.

Chance and Jerry had seen enough. With their feet now unfrozen, and motivated by animal fear instinct, they headed for the door.
Chance made it through the door, but poor Jerry wasn't as lucky. The creature was on his back and, in a wink, chomped his head right off his neck, too.

"Maaaagiiiic!" Blood dripped from the creature's mouth.

As Chance cleared the top of the basement landing, he heard behind him, "Maaaagiiiic! I let you live, Chance Gim, so you can spread the word. Maaaagiiiic! Don't fuck with my world! Maaaagiiiic! Or I shall hunt you down. Maaaagiiiic! And kill you, too!"

And, to be sure, it is assumed, Chance didn't have to be told twice . . .

* * * * *

THE SOUND OF A DRUM BEING BANGED woke Chance up. Then the drum banging transfomed itself into mere banging. This, in its turn, transformed itself into someone banging on his front door. Chance Gim opened his eyes.

"Open up, Chance, you dumb fucker, it's cold out here!"

As he stumbled out of bed, his mind unable to fully wrap itself around the situation, he thought: It can't be, it just can't be. He went to the door, opened it, and found out it just could be.

"Geez, Chance," said Ben, as big as life, "You sleep like the fucking dead!" He pushed past Chance and entered the room.

Chance shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind. "Holy shit, Ben, you're alive! Oh, man, what a fucking dream I just had. In it, you were . . . "

"Yeah, well, save it for later, Chance. Yolanda's gonna be here in less than twenty minutes for her second go-round of magical sperm swallowing. So, man, get your ass dressed . . . we got a show to put on!" He smacked Chance on the arm. "Jerry's already got his black robe on, and he's chompin' at . . . "

Chance looked dopily at him. "Yolanda? She ate you and Jerry . . . !"

"Yeah, and you, too. And she's eager to do it all over again, so get a fucking move on, my old High Priest. Time's a-wastin'!" He grinned at Chance. "Here!" He tossed Chance Yolanda's X-File photo.

Chance's looked at it, and then his dopey look turned itself into one slightly tinged with fear, "Ben, do you think our dreams can foretell the future . . . ?"

The End.
"From my mind, to your mind!"