Don’t Summon Me

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tagIncest/TabooDon't Summon Me

Don't Summon Me
By Eden Redd
I stared at the mystic circle. A chalk and salt outline filled the middle of the empty spare room. Arcane symbols were drawn in the middle and outside the circle, adding to their potential power. To my right, an ancient book lay on the floor. To my left, a gold dagger lay. The dim candles glowed, their light gleaming off the dagger and illuminating my pain as I fought the pit of sorrow in my stomach.
My name is Gerald, Acolyte to the Order of Draygon and lost soul.
I closed my eyes, trying to regain my strength and focus. The last year has been difficult to say the least. Memories haunted me for the last year. They stabbed into my thoughts at the strangest times and lingered like a weeping ghost. I thought I could move on, but my dreams and my heart wouldn't let me. I couldn't move on. I tried, many times. I dove into my studies. I walked the grounds of the mansion. I buried myself in books and even small trips. But her memory always remained. No matter where I travelled or how much I tried to distract myself, she was there, smiling.
I glanced to my right, staring at the black book appropriately named The Libro De Nocte, or as it is called in plain English, The Book of Night. It was one of the more powerful spellbooks, if one was lucky to find it. My family had a long history of acquiring and studying arcane and mystical books. They were the life blood of our entire family and the Order.
My thoughts lingered as I stared at the black book at my side. The Order of Draygon spread across the globe, hidden in many corners. We are the mysterious merchants of forgotten lore and dark magics. There are many mystical books and grimoires, granting the spellcasters the ability to weave dangerous and obscure dark arts. I was raised on this kind of magic. I studied it from the moment I could read. It came naturally to my family, my parents pushing me to learn more and more of the true ways of night.
I turned my gaze back to the mystical circle. Faint memories caressed my addled mind. I had barely slept, looking forward to this night. I thought of my father, Edward Heartwood. He disappeared on one of his expeditions. No body was recovered and no one had heard from him since. I was young, barely ten when he vanished.
For a long time, it was just me and my mother, Rose Heartwood. She was my world, a bright point in a dark, bleak and dangerous realm. I knew from a young age the terrible things that tried to break into our reality. She was the only one to soothe those fears away with just he right words or a gentle kiss against my forehead. Those special moments comforted me, even to my current age of twenty.
The small bright memories washed away with the tides of my mind. They were replaced with my mother on a hospital bed. She had machines and tubes hooked up to her, monitoring and trying to keep her alive. The cancer had spread and the doctors didn't give her more than a few hours on that last night.
I sat by her side, holding her hand. She was still beautiful, even without her hair. She smiled through the pain and that only made it worse. I tried to be uplifting, telling her of my studies and discoveries. She listened and smiled through every word.
When the end was approaching, she whispered to me how much she loved me. Then she said something that burned into my very soul.
"Don't summon me."
I remember blinking and fighting off my confusion. A short moment later, she passed on and I was devastated.
Tonight, made it a year to the day since she passed to the great beyond. After my initial grief, I understood what she was telling me. The Order had ways to bring souls back, among many other dark arts.
Heartwood Mansion is our family home. After a few weeks, I sequestered myself to the Library to find a key for my suffering. I studied many books. Despite my search, I could not find what I was looking for until my fingers touched a simple, black book. When I pulled it out, I sat down and began to read the Libro De Nocte.
From the first page, I was trapped in its knowledge. The spells, rituals and incantations were beyond the power of any other spellbook I had read or studied. When I reached the pages where a caster could bring back a soul from the great beyond, I had found what I was looking for. Despite my mother's words, I couldn't go on living in this realm without her comforting touch and presence. It took control of my life. The book gave me hope, something I had been lacking since that night she passed.
I had regained some of my strength, eating, exercising and studying. I memorized every word and phrase. I stared at the arcane symbols and designs until they became second nature. It would have driven a lesser person to madness but not I, I sank deeper into its power and found myself smiling.
The ritual of summoning souls required a few things I could easily acquire. There was a stipulation, a rule that could not be broken under any circumstance. To summon a soul back from the void, you had to waist exactly a year from the day the person died. Any attempt to force the spell within that year, would wield a maddening darkness that would take your soul to the abyss. I understood the risks and spent a great deal of time preparing for what was going to be our new life.
I woke up from my thoughts, the sound to rain falling outside. The sun had set a few hours earlier and thick clouds rolled in. Rain came down in sheets, the pitter patter of drops creating a natural symphony.
I looked back to the circle, my heart lifting in my chest. The time had come and I was ready to turn back death's clock.
I picked up the gold dagger in one hand and opened the black book at my side. I put the dagger in my right hand and glanced at the incantation. Candles wavered in the thin draft but remained burning. I turned back to the arcane circle and began to recite the rite.
The words flowed naturally. I had mentally rehearsed them for so long, even if I was befuddled by drinks or drugs, I could recite them like my own name. The air in the room cooled. I watched as my breath smoked from between my lips. I stayed to task, the mystical words coming out louder and stronger. Power ran along my body and a sharp pain stabbed into my heart.
My eyes glowed as I neared the end of the rite. I stuck out my left hand and sliced the gold dagger across my palm. I curled my fingers in, squeezing my hand and turning it. From between my fingers, crimson blood dripped and fell into the middle of the magic circle. Energy flared in the room, touching everything. It felt like a thousand fingertips touching my flesh before they retreated and were gone.
I said the final word of power and a wind blasted my senses. The windows were closed, but the wind felt arid and foul. It came from nowhere and disappeared just as quickly. The candles blew out and darkness swamped the room.
I huffed, trying to regain my wits. My body tingled, but that feeling began to ebb. When it was gone, I waited.
Nothing happened.
My hope died. The sound of rain was my only comfort as I stayed on my knees before the magic circle. Did I recite the incaution incorrectly? I didn't know how that could be since I breathed and dreamed of every word. Was she so far gone that she couldn't return? Was I dismal failure, pining for the only person I truly loved?
A choking shadow fell over my spirit. I stood up and dropped the gold dagger to the floor, next to the black book. Despair turned into a simmering rage. I had seen many great magics work over many years. Some were simple and others were complex, but they worked. From everything I had learned, this should have succeeded. She would be in front of me with open arms. Instead, I stared at the darkness with nothing to show for my efforts.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
I turned to leave. My thoughts shifted to spirits I could drown in to dull the pain. When I took one step toward the door, I heard a scream in the distance.
My heart leapt into my chest as I darted to the door. I slammed it open and ran down the large hall. The scream echoed in my mind, but I didn't hear it again. It sounded like it came from the foyer.
I dashed through the mansion, my legs and heart pumping with power. I turned a corner and ran until I reached the second-floor side of the foyer. My hands grasped the carved wood railing and I looked down with wide eyes.
A woman in white stood in the foyer. A wide rimmed hat covered her head. It was tilted forward, obscuring her face. The white, silky dress adhered to her womanly form. A warm line of cleavage glowed from alabaster pale skin. The dress was long, reaching down to her ankles, but did nothing to hide her curves.
I stared, my heart thumping in my chest. Was it her? Was it really her? I succeeded and now she was here.
I was overcome with joy. That joy began to falter the longer I stared. There was something amiss, something strange. The table in the middle of the foyer was smaller for some reason or, she was bigger? It was hard to describe through the spring of bliss I felt.
The woman raised her gaze to me, a smile appearing and eyes gleaming in the shadows of her hat.
"I've missed you, my son," Rose said with a chilling warmth in her voice.

I stepped to the grand staircase, but remained at the top. I couldn't blink, drinking in my mother's image. She looked up with her bright smile. She was dry, despite the rain and thunder outside. Did she simply appear there? She didn't come in from the outside. She would have been soaking wet.
I took one step down and held the railing. The dreamy bliss shifted as I noticed, my mother wasn't like she used to be. I took another step down, my mind trying to understand what I was seeing.
Rose stood like an elegant statue on the red rug. Her hands were clasped to each over and raised to her chest. Her gaze never wavered as she watched me slowly come down the stairs. I watched her and saw that she had indeed changed. My mother was barely five-foot four. The woman that looked like my mother was over seven-feet tall. She looked exactly like my mother in almost every way except for her height and size.
When I reached the bottom floor, I stepped off the stairs and timidly approached my mother. She towered over me as I stepped closer. Her gaze and smile remained. When I stood before her, I was mesmerized by how beautiful and strange he looked. The oddness of her height and size fell to the background. I started to not care about what unusual form she took. It was her. It had to be her.
Rose opened her arms to me and I stepped into them. She pulled me close into her bosom and I hugged her around the waist. My face was pulled to her large, inviting breasts and I wanted to be smothered by them. Her hand touched my hair and stroked it, a gently hum falling from closed lips.
It was her. The scent, the touch, all of it belonged to her. The rite never mentioned anything about any changes to the returning soul, but at this point, I didn't care. Hope filled my heart and I wasn't going to let this chance go again.
"You feel so nice," Rose said, her tone dripping with shadows.
"So do you," I said as I hugged her tightly.
I pulled back and looked up with wide eyes. "I…prepared a meal, for your return."
Rose kept her smile. "That would be lovely."
I pulled from her but grabbed her hand. I led her along, through the first-floor entrance and into the hallway. I knew the mansion like the back of my hand. I had dismissed the servants for tonight. Our home was empty, save for the two of us. I glanced back to her bright gaze. She seemed elated and so was I.
After a few twists and turns, we ended up in one of the smaller dining rooms. These rooms were for intimate dinners with just a few people. I set it up with a grand meal. I had no idea what it was like in the great beyond. I figured she want to enjoy an earthly meal after such a long time away.
A hearth glowed with welcoming warmth. A long, rectangular table filled the middle of the room. Several dishes lined one end of the table with two chairs. The elegant lamps were dimmed low, giving the room an inviting atmosphere.
I stepped to the head of the table and pulled out the dark oak wooden chair. My mother stepped over, turned and sat down. I went to the other seat by her and sat down. I couldn't fight my smile as I looked at her.
Rose took off her hat and put it on the edge of the top of her chair. She looked at me for a moment before turning to the food. Her hand reached out, grabbing handfuls of meat from a cooked bird and placed it on her plate.
I stared, seeing that she wasn't using the cutlery. White fingers ripped at the cooked meat and she placed chunks of it in her mouth. She chewed with her mouth closed but her eyes contained a gleam, bordering on madness. I assumed she needed time to get reacquainted with the earth realm. The oddness should vanish with time.
"You're not eating," my mother said as she smiled and chewed.
"I'm just happy to see you," I said as rain came down harder outside.
"Gerald, you have to eat. You look haggard."
I nodded. "The longer you are here, the more my strength will return. I'm much too excited to eat."
Rose nodded and continued to stuff her mouth with large pieces of meat.
"What was it like? Do you remember anything?" I asked.
Rose wiped greasy fingers on her silky white dress, smearing it across one of her covered breasts.
"I remember seeing you at my side. I remember falling into darkness. It coiled around me, hot and loving. I was in a dream. I woke to your pull and here I am," Rose said with a dreamy smile.
A thought nagged at me and I felt I had to say something. "I know you asked me to not summon you."
Rose stopped eating and looked at me with kind eyes. "The food is lovely."
A distant feeling called out to me, trying to tell me this was wrong, but I ignored it.
"Did you dream of me?" my mother asked.
I nodded.
"I felt some of those dreams, even as far away as I was. Some of them were intimate, you sharing yourself with me."
My heart thudded in my chest. I did have all kinds of dreams about her, but I didn't expect her to know some of the more lurid ones. The ones where she came to me to ease my frustrations. The times I woke up, my own seed wetting my boxers. I was hurting and those dreams helped. I often stayed in bed, taking my own come and rubbing my still rigid cock, coming again because the dreamy images stayed with me. I wish I could have said I felt disgusted, but I simply didn't.
"In the great dreaming, I thought of you too," Rose said before putting a large piece of meat in her mouth.
The room grew hotter and my manhood stirred. Her very voice set me on edge. My gaze fell to her cleavage once again, grease and bits of meat on her clothes.
Rose looked down and gave a haughty laugh. "Dear me, I am a mess."
"It's fine," I said with a smile.
Rose stood up and looked down at the front of her dress. "It is not. I need to bathe."
My mother turned and walked toward the door. I was up and following. We entered the main corridor. She led the way to one of the large, first floor bathrooms. I followed, my eyes remaining on her giant form.
We reached a door. Rose opened it and stepped in. I couldn't bring myself to be far from her and followed her in.
The bathroom was large and luxurious. It had diamond white tiles with black tile trim along the bottom and top edges of the chamber. A large bath took up the middle. There was some wooden seating. It had all the amenities and more.
Rose moved to the side of the giant, porcelain tub and turned on the water. I stood in the middle of the room, watching her as water splashed behind her. Her back was to me. Her hands rose up and took hold of the top of her dress. She pulled it down, without looking back.
I looked away, a sudden shyness overcoming me. My averted gaze went to the large mirror at one side of the bathroom. I couldn't look away again as her dress slid down her body and puddled at her feet. Her voluptuous curves glowed in the mirror image. Large breasts hung unassisted. Her dark nipples stood erect. Creamy breasts moved to her movements as she stepped out of her dress. She had her thin waist. I stared at her rear, the bubble curve causing heat to rise up my neck. My member stirred as she made no attempt to cover up.
Rose lifted her leg and gracefully stepped into the tub. The tub wasn't half full but it seemed my mother didn't mind. Steam rose up from hot water. She turned her gaze to my gaze in the mirror. Her lips parted in a sultry hiss before she sank down. She made no move to cover up as she relaxed in the tub.
I was about to turn and leave so I could give her some privacy. That is when she called out.
"Stay with me. Keep me company."
I nodded and grabbed one of the nearby chairs. I pulled it to the side of the tub and sat down.
My mind was dripping with heat and hazy gloom. I couldn't resist, looking down into the large tub as water began to rise. Despite her seven-foot form, the tub was large enough to accommodate her. She lay, the water rising above her inviting thighs and touching her waist. I could see a small patch of hair above her womanhood. My gaze traveled up her body, along her stomach and reaching her breasts. How I dreamed of snuggling to them and falling asleep.
Pain ached along my hand from where I cut myself. I flexed my fingers, trying to not think about it.
Rose looked over to me with dreamy eyes. "Give me your hand."
I obeyed, lifting my left hand and holding it out. The wound was red and angry. My mother took my hand and licked my palm. I watched with wonderous eyes, the angry wound closing and sealing shut. I marveled at my hand. It looked and felt like it was brand new.
"You were always so free," Rose said as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
I looked at her in silence.
"I liked your dreams, coming to my room and seeing me on my bed. How you slipped in next to me. I enjoyed when you crawled close."
The dream she talked about came roaring back and my cock thickened in my pants. I shifted uncomfortable, mentally berating myself.
"You were hard like heated stone," my mother sighed.
Heat bloomed from my thudding heart. I wanted to be disgusted. I wanted to run. I thought that is what you were supposed to do when things like this happened but I couldn't. I wouldn't. The bond was always there and in our little world, it was natural.
Rose's hand slid between her slightly parted thighs. I watched as her fingers touched herself and move under the rising water.
"Mom," I said and my voice cracked.
"It's okay. You're a man and you have urges. I have them too. I've always had them."
My fantasy world was just that for my entire life. I could not deny the attraction but I never crossed the line. Stealing a long hug and letting my hands linger on her was one thing but beyond that, I stayed pure in reality. Now, my urges pushed me to the brink of madness. I brought her back, but was this what I always wanted? Did I do it so I could have all of her to myself?
Rose opened her eyes and looked over. "How much did you miss me?"
My body reacted with a small groan falling from my mouth. I slowly stood up, trying to keep my mind from shattering to pieces. I stared as my mother ran her fingers along her pink folds. A finger swirled around her clit, yet she looked to me with a neutral gaze.
Uncontrollable urges took root in my heart. I undid my pants, my hand slipping into my boxers. I stroked myself but didn't pull it out for her to see. The imp of unfettered lust roared from within me. I watched all of her as she let out a small gasp, her fingers working. She looked at me, my bulge unmistakable. I could think of nothing else, stroking my rock-hard cock.

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