Author: Siscentis
Title: Halloween Transformation
Part: 1
Summary: It's Halloween night, when Betty's brother transforms
into something only she can tame...
Keywords: inc, mf, cons, oral, magic

Copyright by the Author, 2016



------------------------------------

She stared at the back of the door, palely illuminated in the
light from her small bedside lamp. She so rarely bothered to
close it that the contours of the back looked strange; the whole
section of the room put out of balance.

Even after four years, she never quite felt ready for this night
once it was here. She forced a deep breath, trying to calm
herself, stifling back a quiver half-way through. She
straightened a wrinkle out of her shirt, knowing it was
pointless. The t-shirt was old, going back to high school. It had
been a favorite for years, and had the worn-out appearance to
prove it. It was soft, comfortable, and thin, full of holes and
personality. She felt a little sad for it. She knew she'd never
wear it again after this night.

She drew in a sharp breath and froze, staring again at the door.
He was getting closer. Even through the door, she could feel his
presence, the weight of his steps as he moved down the hall. He
approached, stopping just beyond the door. She waited for it to
open, for those eyes to come through, staring at her.

The steps started again; he was moving away. She started
breathing again. Not yet, then.

Not yet, but soon. She wasn't sure if she was glad for the delay,
or if she'd prefer to simply be on with it. She again focused on
her breathing and tried to calm the nervous energy.

She heard distant voices from outside her window, echoing into
the apartment's courtyard from another unit or the parking lot.
There was always plenty of noise on Halloween night, especially
in a college town. It had always worked in their favor, as it
meant any stray sounds they might make were more likely to go
unnoticed or ignored. She couldn't have chosen a better night for
their annual event.

She got up off her bed and went to the window, splitting the
curtains and pulling up a slat of the blinds just enough to peek
outside, checking again that no one was in the immediate
courtyard. The action was automated, as her mind was elsewhere.
She knew there was nothing but to wait. The process always just
took as long as it did. She wondered if it was actually slower
this time around or if it was just her imagination. Perhaps this
year she should start taking the trouble of noting exactly what
time he was ready. She glanced at her clock. 8:23. She sat back
on her bed, doing a few quick yoga poses to settle nerves and
keep her body limber, particularly focusing on her hips.

Her brother had arrived early in the evening. Betty suspected
he'd skipped his classes this time. As had become their routine
on these nights, he'd come into her apartment with simple
greetings, doing his best not to look directly at her or even
engage her much beforehand. This time, he'd been a little more
agitated, and she'd gotten him to talk a little in the time
before sunset. He admitted he'd recently been dumped by his
girlfriend, due to his emotional distance. Betty had always tried
to convince her brother that his yearly issue shouldn't be a
deal-breaker for his romantic life if they kept it under wraps,
but she could tell his worry still caused him to keep girls at
arm's length. As darkness had started taking hold outside, he'd
moved into her small apartment's bathroom as it was the most
secure place for him while it happened. Betty had gone to her
bedroom to wait.

The waiting was hard; it always seemed so long. She would try to
soothe her nervous energy, relax and prepare her body, make sure
the room was ready, but after all that, there was little to do
but let her mind wander as it always seemed to back to that first
time.

It had begun when they were in high school, when Betty was a
junior. Her little brother had just hit a growth spurt, and was
starting to look something like a man instead of just a boy, and
a quite handsome one to boot. Betty had found the development
took her quite by surprise.

That Halloween had started like any other. It had been a weekend,
in fact, giving them more time to goof off and be bored during
the day. When evening fell, she'd taken him to a party at his
friends' house, whose older sister Tara, in fact, had often taken
Betty under her wing.

In retrospect, his strange behavior had probably begun before
they'd even left their house, but it wasn't until she saw him
with a girl at the party that she really noticed it. Normally
quite shy, Henry actually seemed to be trying to flirt. She might
have chocked it up to hormones, costumes, and his generally
starting to mature, but his demeanor had been so strange. He
wasn't just being forward, which would have been out of character
enough, he was down-right insistent.

She diverted him a few times, but after each he seemed to pick
out a different girl to try, his eyes becoming increasingly
predatory. When he actually grabbed ahold of Tara by the ass,
Betty had to push him to the car to get him away.

She'd gotten him home, finding he almost wouldn't come inside
with her, having locked onto a woman among the trick-or-treaters
on the street. Physically forcing him in had failed; when she
pushed him, he seemed somehow much stronger than his developing
frame had always been in their normal sibling tussles, and she'd
ended up rolling off him and falling onto the ground. It was only
when her cheap plastic costume skirt got caught most of the way
over her waist that his attention broke from his other query and
she was able to coax him along.
Inside, she'd soon started worrying if her selection of "Sexy
Schoolgirl" as a costume hadn't ended up a mistake, as he
continued eyeing her, even with the skirt back in place. She
wondered how long it would take him, in his current state, to
overcome the mental hurdle of it being his sister before he
started making a move. She decided it might be best after all to
lock him away for the night, and tricked him into his bedroom,
obstructing the door with a chair.

It soon became apparent that the trick wouldn't hold. His
knocking and pleas to be let out shifted to pounding,
handle-rattling, yelling, and kicking. Plastered against the far
side of the halls and feeling the walls shaking, she quickly got
the sense that he'd soon smash his way out if he had too.

She saw only one solution to the predicament. He was absolutely
consumed by a supernatural lust. If freed, he'd run out the door,
unleashing an increasingly wild state on a street full of
trick-or-treating kids and moms. If she left him in there, it was
only a short matter of time before he'd break through the door or
window and be out just the same. Out there, he'd assault someone,
and quite possibly worse, before the police were called. Who
knows how much damage he might do or how many people he might
hurt before being brought down? At best, it could mean years of
psychological treatment and jail time, and at worst, he might be
shot dead on the spot.

It was too much to imagine her little brother lying dead on the
street. Just that morning, he'd been as normal and happy as could
be. She knew she had to protect him, and saw only one way to do
it. If she couldn't stifle his lust, she'd have to direct it
somewhere it could be contained.

Knowing what she had to do, she pulled the chair from the door
and stepped back. The door swung open, and her brother stepped
out.

This boy she'd known for his entire life was clearly changed
before her eyes. He was almost hunched over, stance wide, eyes
roving hungrily. His clothes were torn in several places,
including right down the middle of his shirt, so it was almost
falling off of him. She could see now that he wasn't actually
bigger, but still more of a presence, intense. He looked right at
her, as desirous a look as anyone had ever given her.

The doorbell rang, and his head whipped around. Betty could hear
voices outside, including at least one woman's voice among the
children. She could see his attention waver.

She raised one hip and lowered her chin, stretching her arms
against the wall. "Oh, Henry," she called, trying her best to put
on her sexiest look. She'd never been one to use feminine wiles
to get her way, and doubted how appealing she really been able to
make herself in her ridiculous forced attempt, but it was
apparently enough. Her brother turned his attention back to her,
approaching. She backed away from him into his room, beckoning
him, until she bumped into his bed and fell sitting on it.

He stood right over her, looming down, more imposing than she'd
ever imaging her little brother could be. She leaned back against
her arms, chest up and legs a little apart, waiting for him to
act.

He hesitated, and for a moment, she saw the eyes are her little
brother trying to look out of the beast. Still hungry, but mixed
in was recognition, and fear. "Betty?" He almost growled. Hands
quivering over her, he held himself back. She could see the
turmoil in him, as he fought the urges for her sake.

"Do it," she said to him.

And so he had.

After it was over, he had diminished, returning to normal, and
despite her worries, she found herself not much the worse for
wear. In the following weeks, Henry acted ashamed around her, at
a loss to understand or explain what had happened. She just kept
on trying to reassure him that it wasn't his fault. Things
gradually got back to normal, and the incident was put behind
them, for the most part.

At least until the next Halloween. Just to be safe, Betty had
suggested they stay home alone that night, and while Henry was
adamant that it wouldn't happen again, he agreed just the same.
With their parents gone to their own usual Halloween party, the
two sat watching movies.

Then night fell, and it happened all over again. The same lust,
strength, wildness came over him, the same ravenous interest in
every woman he saw, with only his sister to hold him in check.
Betty's response had been the same.

The next day, he apologized profusely, again at a loss to explain
himself, though he remembered clearly everything that he'd done.
She'd comforted him and tried to focus his energy on a plan. She
was his older sister, and she'd protect him, even from himself,
even if it meant repeating what they'd done every year. Seeing no
alternative himself, having no clue as to what was happening or
how to stop it, he was forced to agree. Ever since, on Halloween
night, he'd travel to where she was at college, and when the
transformation happened, she stood by, ready to help.

She knew the shame he felt at what he was doing to his sister,
but also the gratitude for what she'd been willing to do to help.
If anything, it had brought them closer, as he knew he could
trust his sister when there was nobody else, and she valued their
bond. She knew the loss of control scared him, even if the
phenomenon was reasonably contained and the only other person
involved was someone he trusted completely. He had a few times
wondered aloud to her why he of all people had this curse; she
could only encourage him to make peace with the situation as it
was, like she had. She hoped that he could forgive himself and
allow himself some pleasure in the act itself, perhaps even a
guilty thrill in anticipation. Sister or no, he was still a man,
after all, and it was clearly enjoyable for him while it
happened.

However he felt, he only had to deal with it once a year. She was
sure that in time he would come to accept it as a manageable part
of his life. After all, it could just as easily had been once a
month, during the full moon, perhaps. Now that they were both in
different colleges, a higher frequency would have been even more
of an inconvenience.

Betty broke her gaze from the door and her memories of her
brother for a moment. She stretched her hips again, rolling side
to side and spreading them. Pulling her panties to one side, she
pushed one finger at a time into herself, until with some
difficulty she got the fourth one in. Before the last year, she'd
taken a few weeks to prepare her body in a new way, using her
fingers and other things to gradually loosen herself a bit.
Without regular sexual activity between their yearly sessions,
she'd found herself not quite physically ready for his forceful
approach. The prep work had done wonders to reduce discomfort.
This year, she'd gone a little bit further, using a cucumber with
some effort over the last weeks to get ready.

This would be the fifth time, though somehow it seemed like more.
It was only one night a year, and, as she had tried coaching
Henry, would be best set on the back burner of their minds the
rest of the time. Yet it seemed to follow her constantly, even
defining what she thought about herself at times. If she were
being honest with herself, she'd let it become at least as much a
hindrance on her love life as he had.

The door creaked open. She'd missed him approaching this time,
and in her surprise, she found herself inching back on the bed.
He came in slowly, creeping toward her, more withdrawn than
usual. His first glance was one of concern. For a moment, Betty
wondered if something had been different this time, if the
transformation had somehow failed.

Then there it was. The look in his eye shifted as he saw her, as
if the very sight of her was too much for him to keep under
control. Each step toward her came stronger, until he was
hovering over her, hands open, ready to grab her.

For the first time since the first time, he hesitated, a glint of
concern returning his eyes. She wondered why this time he'd been
able to hold himself back, when every other time since the first,
he hadn't.

"Do it," she told him.

He was on her, leaning into her body, gripping and squeezing and
pulling her sideways to him, hands jumping from place to place to
grab and sample, bodies rubbing together. Dissatisfied, he pulled
away from her. Even knowing what was coming, modesty had forced
her brother to keep on some clothes as he'd waited, even if just
a light shirt and shorts. He tore them off his body, as an animal
who had no clue had to remove them otherwise, leaving them in
tatters.

Free from the civilized burdens, he returned to her, hands at the
ready. His hugely swollen cock rayed out from his body toward
her, and she had the impression of it reaching out for just as
his arms were. It had seemed monstrous to her the first time, and
to an extant she retained that impression, though as time went by
she'd realized it probably wasn't inhumanly so. Her only prior
impression of her brother's penis was when it was limp early in
puberty, and compared to that little boy he was now massive.
She'd been rather surprised when she'd taken the time to peak on
him another day after that first event and discovered it was
always the larger size. She'd sometimes wondered if it was simply
his natural size or if the spell had a long-term effect, after
all.

He leaped onto the bed, practically right on top of her, pressing
her down and pinning her arms. She suppressed a natural instinct
to push back, relaxing her body for him. She could feel him
poking her around the waist and pubic bone, then on the inside of
her thigh, pressing up into the fabric of her own shorts and
panties. If he'd only found his mark, he would have entered her
right then. Her clothes had succeeded in delaying him. She knew
it wouldn't last.

His weight pressed harder into her, hands holding her arms at the
wrist and stretching them over her head. He thrust his crotch
against hers, rubbing his cock between her legs, grinding it
against her vulva and clitoris through her clothes. He lowered
his chest to hers and his head to her neck, and she tilted her
head the other way to give him room, feeling the strong squeeze
of his hands on her forearms and letting her hips open wide. She
tried to relax herself again, but could feel the tension
tightening her stomach muscles and bit her lip. Whatever
happened, she would just let it happen; whatever he might do, she
would let him do it.

Pressing his nose along her neck, he breathed in deeply, taking
in her scent. She wore the same perfume she'd had on the first
night, a scent she'd been unable to bring herself to use for
anything else since. She kept the bottle all those years just for
these particular nights.

He breathed out hot below her ear, growling lustily as he did.
His mouth went for her, his wet, hot tongue running on her skin.

He moved his way down from the side to the front of her neck, and
Betty rolled her head upward as he went to give him room. His
tongue didn't lift from her until it struck her shirt.

He raised his chest, leaving his cock pressed into her, and
released her wrists, grabbing the collar of her shirt. She let
herself sink into the mattress, leaving her arms exactly where
they were and waiting for what was coming. With one motion, her
brother ripped the shirt open down the middle, proceeding to
yank, pull, and tear it until it was completely off her body. She
was glad the shirt gave way as easily as it did, not catching or
jerking her neck.

He fell back onto her, hands to her arms, now just above the
shoulder, and mouth right onto her breast. She gasped as he
started sucked it, greedily jumping from one breast to the other
every so often, as though he'd forgotten the other was there and
had to have it immediately. He stretched his mouth wide to
consume as much of her breast as he could, his tongue practically
wrapping around each nipple in turn and twisting.

There was no fighting him, and she had no intention of trying.
His naked, impossibly strong body was grabbing, holding,
thrusting against her, held back just enough not to really hurt
her. She held herself still, encouraging her own body into
relaxation while not resisting its own natural reactions and
movements.

Growing still more inflamed, if she thought it were even
possible, he rose off her, the release of his weight causing her
to lift bodily off the bed from her own upward pressure she
wasn't aware she'd been making. He grabbed her by the waist, both
hands at her shorts, and tore them and her panties together
straight down. Elastic snapped and fabric tore. Her lower body
shook with his jerking pulls, and she grabbed onto the head board
for stability. Shredded, what remained fell free or was thrown
away behind him against the wall, leaving her completely naked
before him. She steeled herself, preparing for his penetration.

Instead, he did something different than the times before.
Staring at her exposed form, he grabbed her thighs and lifted
them, dropping his face into her, and she quivered at his sudden
contact. Putting his nose against and almost into her, he
breathed in so deep she could feel the air rushing over her
labia. Exhaling, his breath covered her whole pussy with warmth,
even seeming to fill her up.

She gasped again. His mouth was on her, lips pressed against her
own, his wet tongue running all around her soft flesh. He seemed
to simply consume her, completely unconcerned by the blemishes on
her skin, her untrimmed pubic hair, or the extra weight she'd put
on recently. He was pure male beast, and he wanted her, needed
her just as she was. If anything, with his strength, the extra
mass would be to her benefit tonight. His tongue found her hole
and dove in.

He may not have been bigger, or had a super-human cock, but when
in this state, there were some definite physical changes. He was
much stronger, his usually somewhat soft body morphed into a
hard, muscled one, in places almost feeling like skin on marble,
and more than ample to toss her around easily if he chose. What
had really caught her off guard the first time, though, was his
tongue, which, she would swear, was not only stronger, but seemed
twice as long and more flexible than natural.

It dove into her, deeper than she'd been ready to feel from it,
rolling and flicking and twisting in a non-stop flurry of motion.
She gasped and cried out, almost a squeak, and was again glad
that no one that may be around in the apartments would give such
noises a second thought on Halloween night.

Suddenly, he jumped off the bed, carrying her hips with him. She
was dragged off the bed, her head swinging down into his thighs
with a thump as he held her upside down. He turned her around as
easily as he might turn an office chair, making them front to
front, and opened his mouth onto her again. He wrapped one arm
around her waist to hold it at his chest, her legs splayed over
his shoulders.

She dangled upside down, her hair a tangled, waving mess reaching
most of the way to the ground. She walked her hands to his hips,
trying to steady herself in his hold. His tongue swirled around
and penetrated her, his mouth wrapped around her vulva,
slobbering and sucking in as much of her juices as he could.

Her head at his waist, his cock shot out from him right into her
face, rubbing her cheek, chin, forehead, as they moved. She held
herself back from him a second, but it was a hard angle to
maintain and still wasn't enough to escape his dick, which still
reached her and bounced against her chin. Her lower body twisting
above her, and she dropped back against him, trying to go to one
side. Still, her face ended up against it, with her eyes right
against his balls and his cock running along her cheek up past
the corner of her mouth.

He thrust against her, rubbing his dick against her face. Holding
her waist with one hand, he pawed at her head with the other,
pushing it into him while thrusting. It was clear what he wanted,
even if he couldn't quite understand it himself. The alternative
was to let him continue frantically thrusting into her face,
undoubtedly harder and harder until he got his way. Sooner was
better. She obliged.

With his balls bouncing off her nose and brow, she pulled herself
back just enough. Taking a deep breath, she caught the end of his
dick in her mouth. He stopped thrusting at the new sensation, and
she tried to stimulate him with her tongue as best as her limited
experience allowed. He let out a low moan, almost frightening in
its animalism, and thrust into her mouth. After nearly gagging at
first, she turned her head partly to the side, taking his next
thrust into her cheek.

Her body swung back and fell forward like a pendulum as his hips
leapt into her repeatedly. With his tongue deeply running in and
out of her, his lower lip pressed against her just outside her
clitoris, which she could feel being tugged by his suction. She
tried her best to block out the powerful sensation of her pulsing
body, focusing on using her tongue and lips to keep his cock in
her cheek and away from her throat. For the first time she felt
slightly concerned for her own safety, not just from the
possibility of him uncontrollably slamming his cock past her
tongue into her throat, but as he became more insistent, that he
might actually cum while fucking her mouth. Having experienced
his ejaculations the last few years, she wasn't sure if she could
handle that.

As if reading her very thoughts, he stopped and threw her, his
dick popping out of her mouth as she spun and flew briefly
through the air and onto the bed, almost bouncing off the far
side. Before she'd even regained her bearings, he was on top of
her, rolling her to her back and pinning her down. Then, he was
inside of her.

She squealed in sudden surprise as his cock rammed deep into her
pussy. Wasting no more time, he pounded into her again and again.
She tensed, momentarily overwhelmed, but then eased. Her efforts
this year had paid off, as the weeks of prep work, along with his
delay and other actions before getting to the actual penetration,
had made her more flexible and better lubricated than on previous
occasions. Even with his size and thickness, she had taken him in
fully without the discomfort of dry scraping or the tearing that
she always feared if one of these times she wasn't fully ready.

She relaxed as he pounded. He dropped his full strong weight onto
her, pressing their bodies together, her tits flattened against
him. He wrapped his arms beneath her, grabbing the top of her
shoulders from underneath. She let her hips fall open, and
wrapped her own arms around his broad back and her legs around
his thighs. She held on close, using her strength to control his
angle of entry as best as she could while he held her in his
powerful grip and simply fucked deep into her.

He fucked on and on, tireless and relentless. By her ear, he
growled and groaned, as beastly as before, but not desperate. He
slid out easily and pounded back in, driving, balls slamming
against her, bed inching toward the wall she'd pulled it feet
away from hours before in preparation.

For the fifth time in her life, her own little brother was
fucking her, needed to fuck her. And she wouldn't deny him. He
was in need, unable to help himself, and she would take him into
her, let him satisfy his primal need with his loving sister's
body.

After an eternity of thrusting, he tightened his grip further,
pushing harder; she knew he was close. Raising his head, he let
out a deep groan, and on his next push she felt it begin, his
cock shifting powerfully inside her snug grip. She could feel it
filling up inside her. He kept thrusting, and she could feel his
cum starting to slide down from her slit as he pulled back, then
squish out in splatters against her inner thighs as he plowed in
again.

His moan weakened, losing breath and falling from animal to
something much more human, more like the boy she knew. He thrust
in one last time and held it, his cock continuing to throb
forcefully, every jump and pulse clearly felt inside her. His
body tensed and writhed on her, his strength vanishing in her
arms, and she hugged him tighter. Pushing off the bed, he rose
from her as best he could. His hips fell back and his cock slid
out of her. A flood of cum ran from her pussy and down her butt
crack onto the bed.

He held himself over her, hovering, dimly returning to his senses
but unable to move himself further. His dick remained hard and
hung over her between her belly button and her pussy, still
pumping. His cum flowed out like a faucet, greater pulses coming
out when his dick twitched, but always pouring at a steady pace.
His body continued twitching over her, the oncoming cords of cum
lashing across her, draping and folding back on themselves all
across her hips, stomach and most of all her pubic hair until it
was covered in a mess of crossing lines and globs, much running
down along the creases of the edge of her thighs and across the
front of her pussy itself.

It was no wonder he turned crazed on these nights, Betty thought,
with all that semen inside him demanding to come out. She had her
hands on his sides, holding him up and steadying him, watching
the stream taper down and the motion of his penis lessen until
they stopped entirely. As she held him up, his own arms started
giving way. His eyes closed and body almost still, he was back to
simply being her brother again, sweet and exhausted.

She helped him collapse onto the bed beside her. He panted
slowly, completely spent, his cock finally receding. He looked
ready to sleep immediately, and she knew that he would soon drop
off into a deep sleep for the rest of the night.

With it finished, she lay back into her bed, taking stock of the
event. There had been much less initial discomfort this time;
that was good. After a good night's sleep, there would be few
lingering effects, besides the typical bit of soreness the next
day.

All in all, it had gone better this time than she had hoped for.
With her brother fallen asleep beside her, everything in the room
was suddenly still, calm. She heard distant voices outside in the
apartment complex, adults talking and laughing mixed in with a
few excited squeals from children who were still out. She looked
down at herself in the lamp light, glad it hadn't been broken in
the action, as had happened two years before. Her breasts were
still moist with his saliva, her stomach muscles sore from their
sudden heavy use. Beyond, her forest of dark, curly hair remained
drenched in thick, sticky fluid. Some areas kept a clear lined
structure layered across the top of the hair, while in other
parts, the semen had oozed together and sunken through the hair
to the skin.

She stayed relaxed where she lay. There was no rush, after all,
and there would be plenty of time to clean up later. For now, she
was tired herself. She could still feel some cum oozing and
dripping out of her vagina, adding bits to the puddle beneath
her. She reached down and touched lightly around some of the more
tender parts on her engorged vulva. There was too much semen to
simply wipe away, and she decided the coating of his still warm
cum felt something like a balm on her used flesh. She spread a
glob near her thigh up to a particularly sensitive spot on one of
her labia, and then smoothed another glob around on top of her
clit, soothing it.

She arched off the bed slowly, stretching out her hips this way
and that. She slowly laid back into her pillow again, relaxing;
leaving her hips spread wide and her crotch drenched. The sizable
pool of cum beneath her had slid when she arched up, rolling into
the spot that had been slightly compressed by her bottom, so that
when she came back down, she came into it.  There was nowhere
else on the bed to go with her brother there, and too much cum to
avoid, even if she wasn't too tired to bother. She slowly eased
her tensed butt muscles and let them lower into it, accepting it
as it surrounded her, squishing upward from her weight around and
even between her butt cheeks. Casually, she pushed the globby
pool away a bit from between her legs, feeling it slide back
against her, up between her thighs to the very edge of her pussy.


She wondered if she really could handle this more than once a
year, or if once a month would just be too much. The experience
was always so intense, for both of them. Either way, it had
happened like it had. Sometimes it was best to let things alone.

Her head drooped to one side as her mind as she let herself
became aware of the rest of the world again, taking stock of the
room around her. With a slump, she sighed and cursed herself
slightly. She'd left the book sitting right out on the
nightstand. Careless, and very sloppy. Her brother stirred beside
her, and she froze a second with a shot of witless fear. Not
opening his eyes, he shifted a last time and settled back in. She
relaxed. In no time he'd be dead asleep, she knew, oblivious to
the world until morning.

Carefully, so as not to shift the bed or disturb him, she reached
down to a knob on her nightstand and pulled off a large, torn
patch of the shirt she'd been wearing from where it had caught as
it fell. She stretched it out and draped it over the book to
cover it.

Later on, after he was solidly asleep, she could hide it away
again before she started cleaning up. It was unlikely that he'd
have noticed it, or had any idea what it was if he had, but there
was no point taking any chances with the small spellbook.

Someday, she would explain it all to him; let him know what
really caused his transformations. She had never planned to
deceive him, always wanted to explain it to him. She just had to
wait until the time was right, until he would understand.

Perhaps she should have told him already, told him right at the
start. That first time, though, she hadn't really expected it to
work, and was taken so off-guard by the spell's effectiveness
that she would have chickened out if it hadn't already been too
late. But since then she had strung him along, let him believe he
was somehow guilty of something, and that was cruel of her. But
once she'd tried it, it was simply too good to give up. In the
last fifteen minutes, she'd had three of the most intense orgasms
she'd ever had. Or maybe just three peaks in one long orgasm, she
wasn't even sure. She wasn't just going to give something like
that up. And, after all, she'd always tried as best she could to
make him see it was a gift and not a curse.

And this time, just maybe he was starting to come around. It was
different this time from the moment he'd walked in her door. She
had seen it in him, the way he looked at her just in the corner
of his eye. At least part of him wanted it. It wasn't just guilt
and fear this time. Even before the spell was on him, some bit of
him was looking forward to fucking his sister. That must have
been why he'd acted so differently this time. He wasn't
completely fighting it anymore.

Yes, she'd tell him. Not yet, but soon. He was almost ready. Just
a little more coaxing and he'd come around. One more year should
do it. Twelve months she could spend nudging him in the right
direction, and then she'd explain it everything. After he'd
fucked her one more time.
And if she could just get him on board, well, the sky was the
limit. Maybe once a month wasn't so outlandish after all. She was
really getting the hang of it on her end, after all. And the more
they did it, the easier it would get. She was almost out of
college; she could move close to him and they could cast their
spell once a month, or even once a week. They wouldn't have to
hold to some arbitrary schedule anymore. They could do it
whenever they wanted.

She turned her head and looked at her brother, exhausted into
unconsciousness. He was on his side, his dick hanging limply to
the bed, a wet spot developed just beneath it. She let her hand
drift to it, lightly petting it in its new, much less imposing
state. She might even be convinced to try some things without a
spell on.

She'd convince him, she was sure. She was his sister. He loved
her and she loved him, no matter what. He'd have to see the
beauty of it. He'd be pissed at first for what she'd done,
certainly. But that deep, primal part of him, that thing which
the spell couldn't create but only call forth, that piece that
craved her pussy with a passion and soaked her body in his cum
would win out it the end. And then it would just be her, her
little brother, her spellbook, and her bed. It was only a matter
of time.

She kissed him gently on his cheek, then laid her head next to
his and closed her eyes.


Find more of my stories at www.asstr.org/~Siscentis