Dark Arts – by MrPhantomille

Sex stories: Dark Arts – by MrPhantomille. The first in what I expect to be a very unusual series for XNXX. The world of magic is at the fingertips of young Jonathan. Will he use it for good or for his own purposes? Read more to find out.

Sex stories: Dark Arts – Chapter 1A: Words –

by MrPhantomille

Genres: Fantasy, Blowjob, Mind Control, Teen Male/Teen Female

I know Magic.

You’re thinking I’m nuts, aren’t you?

Yeah, I thought that too. For the longest of times. I guess part of me still does.

But I know it. The Art, Kammeryn and friends call it.

Well, I guess I’m his friend too. We’re all part of what us Gifted call a “cabal.” Fancy word for a group of mages who work together and study together.

Every Gifted (or “Mage”, as you would call it) has to have a ritual performed on them that allows them to invoke the powers found in words in Arcanan, the lost language that wove together the universe. It’s like everyone else (and me, before the ritual) was just playing a game, blissfully unaware that some people could play with the cheats on.

Sometimes, cabals are tied around a symbolic theme, to strengthen the sympathetic ties members have to each other. Since Kammeryn is the one who started it off, he called the shots and themed us after the seven sins in Catholic lore.

Cain is Wrath, a large, imposing figure who makes me feel smaller and smaller the more I look at him. He knows a lot about the Art, and he sees himself as kind of an older brother figure to me. His hair is black and his eyes are a dramatic blue. Despite being called by Wrath, he doesn’t seem very angry at all, but according to the others, this is because I stay on the healthy side of his temper.

Vesti is Envy, a feisty redhead. She’s the same age as me, and we’ve been really close friends ever since we were kids; we go to the same high school and share most of the same classes. She’s kind of a plain jane, but I like that about her, and she’s really nice. She seems rather proud of her Irish heritage, and she looks it to the fullest, green eyes, red hair, covered in freckles.

Luca is our seer, with the symbolic tie to Sloth. She graduated two years ago from the same high school, but had no idea who she was until Kammeryn introduced us. The Seer ritual leaves her eyes a milky white, and she is supposedly blind, although her powers allow her to see just as well, if not better than the rest of us. She wears contacts when she goes out to help her look more normal. Her hair is long and platinum blonde, and her figure is very well toned. I think the guys would be on her in a minute if she wasn’t Kammeryn’s girl.

The twins, Josta and Juel, are Gluttony and Greed, respectively. Besides both being stuck up, they couldn’t be more different. Josta is a portly, wild eyed, spazmatic jerk and Juel is a thin, calm, collected jerk. Oh, they’re both jerks, that’s another similarity I suppose. They also share a tanned complexion, dark brown hair, and very prominent eyebrows, it wouldn’t take much work to guess they’d once looked very identical indeed. They go to some private school I’ve never heard of and wouldn’t visit if everyone in the school gave me a dollar.

Ricolette is Pride. Strangely, she doesn’t talk much, but listens intently to all that is said and researches more diligently than anyone except Kammeryn and Luca. Her long dark hair flows down in gentle waves and her eyes are crystal blue, almost twinkling when she speaks. Toned legs with the slightest paleness in her skin make her a beautiful, delicate seeming figure. She’s more of a “workaholic” than a “shy quiet type”, but I haven’t really talked to her enough to know what she’s like.

Nobody knows why Kammeryn doesn’t have a tie to the group. I figure it’s just the best situation for him, being the leader and all.

That leaves me. Arcos. Short brown hair, brown eyes, in every way average. I used to be a little bit on the chubby side, but I’ve been growing out of it.

I am the sin of Lust.

But it wasn’t always that way…

***

I woke up to another day, just like any other before it. But it wasn’t. It was a Saturday, and my good friend Lauren had asked if I wanted to go for pizza. Although usually she wasn’t the type to set up these kind of things, I wasn’t one to turn down pizza, so I had agreed the Wednesday before.

I got up and jumped in the shower. After about ten seconds of hot water, things turned for the worse and I screamed in shock as the cold hit me like a brick. Stupid Ryan, always taking all the hot water. I told Dad to get him to conserve a little so that it would still be hot for me, but that guy wasted water like no other. Plus, Dad’s always on his side because he’s the youngest and whatnot. Eh. I digress.

I got out and got dressed in a gray tee shirt and some jeans. I’d just finished slipping on my shoes when the doorbell rang. I ran downstairs to go answer it.

Lauren’s smiling face greeted me. She was wearing a green tank top and short shorts. Her long legs ended in black converse.

“You ready?”

“Yeah. That a new car?” I said, looking out to see a white van instead of her mother’s gray sedan.

She paused. “Yeah. C’mon!” she said joyfully.

I walked out with no hesitation. The windows of the van were tinted, so I couldn’t see inside. Fully trusting my friend, I still couldn’t help but walk a bit slowly. I pulled open the door to the van and heard a single, strange word before I passed out.

“Morcere.”

***

I woke in a very sparse basement of some kind, with strange symbols etched in the ground. The central area had some sort of large chalk circle, in which I was at the center. I was surrounded by people, all wearing black robes. Among them my friend Lauren. I was tied to a chair, and there was duct tape across my mouth. Despite my apparent kidnapping, I felt strangely calm.

A strange man, wearing a long black robe, spoke in a strong, commanding voice. “Greetings, Jonathan. As you have probably realized, you have been currently incapacitated and are incapable of speech. I assure you the restraints are necessary. That said, this is purely a social call. The one you call Lauren is more than she appears. She was Gifted four months ago with a power, the likes of which most of mankind does not know. She’s a Mage, Jonathan.”

I looked to Lauren, perplexed. She looked at me back as if she was afraid she’d dissappointed me. The last time I saw her look like this was when she told me she wouldn’t be able to go see the Owl City concert with me two months ago.

What the strange man said next didn’t help any.

He continued on to explain everything I have told you so far, about the Arcanan language, the cabal, and its current membership. Each person introduced themselves in turn, starting with the strange man himself, who called himself “Kammeryn”.

The memory of hearing Lauren call herself Vesti for the first time has always had this strange, chilling effect on me, I believe it signified in my mind that reality as I knew it had changed forever. I looked into her eyes for moments that seemed like hours. “What’s going on?” I thought.

She looked down to avert my gaze. No help.

“What’s with the names?” I thought to myself, once they’d finished.

Kammeryn spoke. “As you’ve noticed, our names aren’t quite what normal people possess. They’re Shadow names. Arcanan nicknames, if you will. They keep sympathetic ties to our magic stronger while keeping sympathetic ties to ourselves weaker. In short, it’s a simple way of keeping other mages off our trail.”

“There are other mages?” I wondered.

“Yes. There aren’t many cabals here in Benton, but in New York where I come from, the number of mages is closer to two hundred. Here, it’s more like a few dozen. Luca estimates that with the current human population at over seven billion, about seventy thousand of them are mages, roughly one one-hundredth of a percent. We’re a scarce breed, to be sure.”

I stopped a moment and thought.

“You’re wondering why we brought you here. And yes, I’m scanning your mind, although I will stop briefly to allow you your privacy. In short, I came to make you a deal, Jonathan. To join the Arcanan elite. To work for our Cabal. To become one of the Gifted. A Mage.”

“Dispar,” came a word from elsewhere in the room. The tape lifted from my mouth.

“Why me?”

“I chose Luca. Luca chose Cain. Cain chose Josta, who chose Juel, who chose Ricolette, who chose Vesti. You are the end of the chain. Once we have the seventh link, we can become a complete cabal.”

“How am I supposed to believe you?”

“You got here somehow, didn’t you? What was the last thing you remember?”

“A word.”

“A word of Arcanan. Morcere.” As he spoke it, a small tendril of darkness curled around his fingertip, pointed straight at the ground. It startled me a bit.

A pause.

“How am I supposed to trust you?”

“Trust is something that must be earned, and sadly I do not have time to build that with you before your initiation. However, if you wish to go back to the way things were, I can speak a word and your memory of this event will be gone forever.” He sighed. “And I will have wasted many a breath on this explanation,” he chuckled.

“I’ll do it,” came words from my mouth.

To this day, I don’t know what caused me to say it so fast. To be so sure.

“Very well then,” he said. It was the first and almost the last time I saw Kammeryn smile.

They undid my restraints and removed my shirt, placing me flat against my stomach on the ground around the circle. Someone straddled my back. A pattern of three circles was drawn, connected to form a triangle. Then more, I’m not sure what exactly. It didn’t hurt very much.

“Finished the tattoo,” Kammeryn said.

“TATTOO?” I almost yelled. Everyone in the room laughed.

“Don’t worry. Only Gifted can see it. Most of us had the same reaction.” he said.

“Is that it?” I asked.

“Not quite.” He got off of my back.

“Well, what now?”

Then came the ritual. Kammeryn read loudly from a scroll consisting entirely of words in a language and alphabet I did not understand. Every once in a while, one of the group members would repeat swatches of what he said. The circle started to glow with a muted white. I floated in the air. At the time, it had been a marvelously new but very frightening experience, that was until a searing pain jolted through my back. A strange, ethereal glow came out of nowhere, deep blue in color. What made it worse was I think it was coming from me. Kammeryn continued, the words strengthened, coming to a crescendo. Then, four. or. five. words. punctuated. very. thickly. at. the. end.

I lost consciousness.

***

“Now you can say you know what it’s like to go unconscious twice in the same day, eh?” shot back the familiar voice of my friend who was once called Lauren.

“Heh,” I barely managed to retort. The first and last time I’d ever been knocked unconscious was my doing, trying to be impressive but failing miserably, not too long after we’d both started high school. It was always one of her favorite things to tease me about.

“You doing all right?” she asked, brushing my hair to one side.

“Heh. Yeah. This is some crazy stuff, huh?” I said.

“Yeah. I haven’t quite gotten used to it either. But it’ll be all right. We can get through this. Together.” she said.

“Arcos” Kammeryn shot forth, causing my eyes to almost roll back into my head uncontrollably.

“Wha?” I stuttered out. After a pause, I regained my composure and started to get to my feet.

“That is to be your Shadow Name. Your advancing magical nature chose it for itself.”

“Hmmm… I kinda like it,” I said, brushing the dirt from my jeans and taking in my surroundings. Everyone except Kammeryn was now changed out of their ritual attire, Lauren now wearing what I first saw her in and everyone else dressed likewise casual. It certainly disjointed the former air of unity the black robes held, but did nothing to calm my nerves.

“How long was I out?”

“Awhile,” Vesti said.

Ricolette advanced toward the blinds and pulled them open. I winced, expecting the sunlight of mid-afternoon, only to find it had been dark outside.

“We’ll take the van back to your house, and drop you off. Not a word as to what has happened. Over the next few days, you shall be trained in the Art.”

Over the next week or so, I was given many interesting lessons on the nature of Magic as it related to society and culture in the last millennium or so that, despite being highly informative and very interesting, found their way to annoy the heck out of me. Not a single word of the Arcanan language was taught to me then, save my sign word. It was like being told you could have ice cream, then getting handed a bucket and shoved outside to go milk the cow. Except “ice cream” was “the raw essence of power codified into singular words.”

Lessons blur into each other, but this much really stuck in my memory:

***

Kammeryn directed my attention to the chalk board on one wall of the room.

“There are three words on your back that form the triangular pattern like so,” he said, drawing three circles with interconnecting lines, then writing words which he began to explain. “Sign, House, and Tag. ‘House’ refers to the magical tradition you were Gifted under, and is thus placed on top. ‘Tag’ refers to your Shadow name, the left of the circle, and ‘Sign’ refers to your magical forte, as it was chosen for your role in the cabal. So, in completing our theme, you were chosen as Lust.” He paused and then continued. “So, in your case, the markings are Kothrin, your house,” he said, drawing the archaic symbol that might as well have been in Chinese, “Arcos,” he said, filling in the left blank, “and desdiri, the Arcanan word for Lust,” he said, filling in the final blank.

“Hmmm…” I said. “So what would your three be?” I asked.

Kammeryn paused as if I’d insulted his mother. “As I am the one who Gifted you, I am likewise House Kothrin, and you already know my Shadow Name.” Cain and Ricolette were looking at me as if I’d made some sort of dire mistake.

This was the first of many indications I recieved that Kammeryn’s Sign Word was the elephant in the room, talk about it and I might suffer repercussions of the supernatural kind.

***

“So, how do I cast spells?” I said on the one-week anniversary of my Gifting. I’d decided to grin and bear it for about six days too long.

“You speak, the universe listens,” said Ricolette, out of nowhere. I’d made a habit of totally forgetting she was in the room.

Kammeryn jumped in. “Yes, to put it simply. Whenever you speak a word of Arcanan, you choose an energy to manipulate. Your thoughts then give shape to your will. The more focus, the more of your personal energy you devote, and the deeper your sympathetic connection to the energies you are manipulating, the stronger your spell. Let’s focus on the first two,” he said.

“Ignis!” he shouted, thrusting his hand upward. A blast of fire the likes of which could make jealous even elite pyrotechnicians shot forth from his outstretched hand. It was like watching one of those explosions in the movies, but close up. I thought the ceiling would have collapsed.

“Little focus, vast reserves of energy,” Kammeryn said, out of breath. “Now, watch this. Ignis,” he said. Fire came from his palm, this time in the form of a small orb that danced and flitted in his hand. It was like a large lightning bug had caught on fire and maintained composure long enough to dance, before dissipating into nothing.

“Careful focus, small amounts of energy. And practice, practice helps,” he said. “Same word, just different ideas. The caster speaks, the universe listens. Not just to the word, but to the will. That’s why focus is so important in casting. Now, we’re going to have a little exercise in mind reading,” he said, grabbing five cards from the only cabinet in the entire basement.

That’s when I learned some of the most important words I’d ever learn in my magical career.

“Scienti” was the word of knowledge and of thought. Using this, I could read minds and know things that would not be immediately apparent, so long as they were set in the present time. Luca explained that the future is almost entirely the dominion of the Seers.

“Desdiri” was my own sign word. It only really means “wanting”, and using it allowed me to manipulate desire.

“Arcna” was the word for Magic itself, often used in enchanting. Kammeryn said its applications were very limited otherwise.

“Oscura” was a weird one.

“It doesn’t really mean anything,” said Kammeryn.

“What?”

“Well, to put it better, nobody knows what it means. It’s a word without an English equivalent. This happens very often in foreign languages. We call it ‘Haze’ because it cloaks things, causes things to fade into insignificance. It also allows for the deletion of memories. It requires quite a bit of focus to tailor out only what you want gone, but it is helpful to avoid revealing your nature.”

He taught me a bit about memory tailoring, which took two whole hours from front to back.

“Also, note that two words can be combined. These are usually called ‘rote spells’ or ‘rotes’ for short. They are the simplest type of true spell. For example, to tailor out memories of the Arcanan language, all you have to do is combine it with Oscura.” he said. “This leaves mortals with no knowledge of any Arcanan words you may have spoken. They never remember you opening your mouth. It’s a useful cover when your spells are covert and you don’t want to explain away lost time used in a full memory wipe. So, just picture the words fading to gibberish or muting out. Your mouth closing where you once said something. And utter ‘oscura arcna.'”

“Hmmm…” I said, trying to figure out situations where that would be useful. Night was swiftly arriving and I hadn’t made much more progress before it came time to drive me back home.

—————–

Also in this series:

• Dark Arts - Chapter 1B: Words - by MrPhantomille
• Dark Arts - Chapter 2A: Sympathy - by MrPhantomille
• Dark Arts - Chapter 2B: Sympathy - by MrPhantomille