No real answers

A student came up and asked about your sisters. A priest came up and asked about your religious beliefs. Some more questions came and went, but your mother answered most of them.

The five of you - your mother, yourself, Caitlin, Dana, and Officer Crandall - all sat in tall chairs brought in for the question session. No attempt was made by any to cover up their nudity, although you crossed your legs at several point. Caitlin squeezed your arm and calmed you down as the session went on and on.

Most of the questions were anthropological or sociological in nature, your mother's expertise. Many were private information, freely given it seems. Officer Crandall talked about her sex life with her husband and the affair she was currently engaged in with her partner. Dana recounted the time she lost her virginity to the high school basketball captain during a game of truth or dare. This upset your mother, visibly, but not as much as learning you were actually clocked at 93 mph, not 70.

Caitlin had no sexual experience, outside of masturbation, before yesterday when she attempted, terribly, to suck your dick. She later received oral sex from your mother when it was presumed you would be arriving last night to take her cherry. Instead, you fucked Margo in order to spend the night with Maria. Caitlin then demonstrated her masturbation technique for her theology professor, Father McGee.

Nobody asked why any of this was happening. Why you. Why now. You knew why, because of the magical statue, but no one else did. And no one cared. In cause and effect of your "skillset," it was all about the effect. The cause was immaterial in their minds. You recalled the dream, the wish, where you wanted no one to question your ability, and this is how it manifested.

As you sat through the next round of questions, an odd thing happened. The old woman, the crone from the gift shop, was present in the back row. She was wearing a long black robe, which she disrobed revealing nothing. "What the fuck?!" you jumped up, interrupting a question on tax returns, when you saw the decrepit naked hag.

"John, are you okay?" asked your mother instinctively out of concern. You pointed horrifically at the crowd. "Do you see that?" you said, as the hag's cackles filled the room

No one saw anything. They heard nothing. They looked at you in concern. Much mumbling went on and your mother wrapped up the event. "Sorry folks, we're going to end things early. We had a photo session planned, and more," she said with a wink, "but we'll reserve that for later in the week."

You were in your mother's office minutes later as Officer Crandall held a flashlight into your eyes. "Your pupils are dilated and your heartbeat is up. You definitely thought you saw something."

"I did. It was the old crone. The gypsy woman. The one from--" you weren't sure if you should mention about the statue. "Just a naked one." It was disgusting, for sure, but nothing too crazy. Why had it instilled such fear in you?

Your father came in pushing a naked old woman, with very saggy tits, a grey bush, wrinkly skin, but nothing rotting or scary about her. "This is Mother Martina. She is 78 years old. She's the only really old woman we could find in the building. She was wearing her habit, so we stripped her down and brought her here. Is this who you saw?"

You shook your head no, and the old nun nodded politely and left quietly.

Crandall, an EMT in addition to her role in the police ****, reported there was no fever or further signs of distress, and your adrenaline rush from the scare was waning.

"John," your mother said, "maybe there's a psychological issue at play. You have this... ability to control only older women, right? Well, as you grow older, the women will always be older. Your age or older. So, this fear of... ****, perhaps, manifested as an old hag. What you would expect to have control over when you are 80 or 90 years old. Did- did you ever see The Shining as a kid?"

You nodded yes. "Well, there you have it. Just a waking nightmare based on childhood fears. I can get you an appointment with the psych professor. She's highly recommended and very attractive. She comes well-endowed in multiple fields." Your mother laughs as you don't understand the joke.

"Maybe," you said, as your mother went behind her desk and sat down to look up the information.

"What is this, a nudist convention?" Janie joked from the door frame. Dana got up and hugged her little sister. "Did you see the lecture?"

"Yeah, they aired it at school. John's a local celebrity now, as the entire Santa Clara School System got to see the lecture thanks to the University TV station. They interrupted homeroom and first period to watch you fuck Caitlin."

"Great," you said, sarcastically. "Great!" your mother said enthusiastically. "What are you doing here Janie?"

"I have a free period before lunch, and saw the little outburst at the end. I thought maybe we could talk or maybe fuck or whatever. Away from the crowd." Janie smiled, and you nodded.

Caitlin spoke up as you headed for the door of the office hand-in-hand with Janie, "Just... let us know if you see anything else unusual." You nodded silently as you looked at the naked body of the sister you had just deflowered. "Sure."

You found your small clothes pile, and most importantly, your cell phone, in the near-deserted lecture hall. You looked at the corner of the empty room where the hag had been in fear, but nothing is there. You dress and then rummage through one of the other piles, specifically Officer Crandall's. "What are you doing, Bro?" Janie said, peeking curiously.

"Just grabbing some panties," you say, taking a big whiff of Crandall's discarded underwear as Janie rolls her eyes and heads out of the hallway. You subtly place Crandall's gun in the front of your shorts. No old witch is coming after you unprotected.

Janie's car is still broken down in the garage, so she's been using Dana's jeep. "Did you want to drive or should I?"

"I don't think Mom wants me to drive for awhile," you lie, still fearful of what could be your own imagination. She shrugs and climbs into the side. "Where to?"

You want someplace off-campus, without a lot of older women nearby. A place to collect your thoughts. And bonus points, where you could talk to Maria and work this out. "Back to high school, of course." Janie frowns, as any high school senior on a free period would, but doesn't raise an objection.

You're not an idiot. You can't bring the gun to school. Plus, there was a school shooting the next town over about five years ago, so the place is still locked down tight. Life in an American school system.

So you need to stash it quick, before your sister notices. "You look pretty happy to be out of there!" she says, noticing the bulge in your pants. Shit.

She reaches for your "bulge", but you stop her. "Why don't you, uh, pleasure yourself? And I'll watch."

"Naughty," she says, as you are no help as she tries to slip down her skirt while driving. She gets it down enough to expose her cunt and begin frigging. "This is pretty dangerous," she says, heat on her voice as the car swerves a little in concert with her finger-fucking.

You stop the jeep from swerving into oncoming traffic, but then it slams the side of a fire hydrant. Water gushes out as Janie rushes to see the damage.

You hide the gun under the seat and find Janie desperately trying to put the cap back on. Her white shirt is soaked, transparent now with her full bra-less breasts on display. "Quit staring, jerk, and help me with this!"

"Yeah, the school's right there. Let's just drive into the lot and head inside. I think only the fire department can fix this." You turn to look at the jeep, and the damage is minimal, mostly busting the passenger headlight. "I'll explain that you broke another car."

"It's your fault, asshole," she muttered under her breath, but just smiled when you asked her what she said.

The school grounds are empty, all the free period kids out on the town and lunch not having begun, so you do a leisurely stroll as Janie finds a spot. She rushes up to you as you approach the main entrance. "It's cold," she says, shivering not from the 80° weather, but from the cold water that has made her nipples so erect.

"Mr. and Ms. Doe," says the African-American security officer, Trixie Powell, her eyes narrowed. "You can't wear that," she said to your sister, and "you aren't enrolled anymore," she said to you. "You need to sign in as a visitor with the main office," she handed you a clipboard as she scanned Janie's bag.

"Janie's fine like that. It helps me to fuck if her tits are on better display." Officer Powell harrumphed, but made no more observations.

A trickling of other students were coming in, most wide-eyed when they spotted Janie, who made no indication of shame or embarrassment at her appearance. As far as she was concerned, her appearance was just a friendly thing for your benefit. Janie was always a bit of a flaunter and unashamed of her body, but even this would be a bit **** in the old times.

You and Janie entered the main office where you signed the visitor's log. The secretary for the first time caught your eye. "Your looking pretty today," you said, uncharacteristically flirting with the 20-something administrator. "Thanks," she said, blushing. "Since everyone knows who you are, you probably don't need a visitor's pass." She took the clipboard from you, as you brushed her right hand, gliding over the diamond engagement ring, and mingling a little longer.

*Ahem* came a loud, fake cough from the Assistant Principal, Mrs. Johansson. "Everyone who isn't a student or faculty needs a visitor's pass. You know that, Miss Stevens!"

Miss Stevens hand quickly went away with a "Right, y- yes, ma'am," quickly procuring a visitor's pass for you to wear around your neck.

"I trust their won't be any major disruptions, Mr. Doe. Just here to visit your sister, no doubt." She had fire in her eyes as she store you down, quickly shifting to Janie who was trying to duck out of view. "And you, Ms. Doe, you might want to try wearing a bra next time. You are putting on quite a show. All for your brother's benefit, I assume?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Janie, oddly never one to speak up to Mrs. Johansson. No one did. She had an air of authority unlike anyone you'd ever met. Until now.

You had a bemused look on your face as you looked over the body of this figure that, until yesterday, brought trepidation and intimidation. She was no old hag, but was in fact, quite fetching, for a 55-year-old woman. Her light blonde hair was sprinkled with gray. She wore sleek dark-rimmed glasses. A bitch face permanently etched on, but good proportions otherwise. Her bosom was the stuff of legends, wrapped up tight in a bra no doubt. A bra you could have removed with a few choice words. Something to ponder, you thought, as she continued to stare you down even after the bell rang.

"Let's go get lunch," Janie said, trying to physically drag you out of there.

"This isn't a restaurant, Mr. Doe. You better share your lunch with your sister, or bring your own." You weren't listening as you left the office.

The halls were crowded, as Janie walked hand-in-hand with you, proudly cavorting your relationship, while being practically topless. People stared, some snickered, they all had watched you fuck Caitlin less than two hours before.

"J!" shouted Maria, as she left the art room, she gave you a hug. "I saw you on TV! Are you okay?" You left unsaid the events with the purported witch, as Maria nodded politely to Janie, who interrupted, "You two have a nice night, I hear?"

It was her turn to snicker, as Maria blushed, and you looked on proudly. You had fucked twice since, but that was family. It hardly counted against the love of your life. "He just fucked Margo" she lied for you.

"Is that all?" Janie said, with a wink. "Although Margo is quite the looker. A pretty good lay, too." You were about to question why Janie would say that, when the crowd swept you all towards the main cafeteria.

Maria shared her lunch with you. She was expecting too, and had plenty to spare, as you grabbed a sandwich marked J from her bag. "So, about this morning?"

"Let's talk privately," you said, as Janie looked at you oddly and then took off her shirt. "What the fuck?"

"What?" she said, in mock outrage. "The shirt is cold. Besides, no one cares if I'm topless, and you said yourself that you wanted to look at my tits." She expected more of a reaction, and frowned, as she walked topless to the cafeteria line, leaving you and Maria to your own table.

"Janie does have nice tits," says Maria, about her former best friend. "She used to hit on me, you know."

"Yeah," you said, uncomfortable talking about your sister's sexuality. Maria was uncomfortable about it too, but perhaps less so these days. "I didn't realize you liked to stare at tits so much."

"Stop" she kidded, "I can admire another woman's body."

"I don't think I can admire some dude's dick." You both laughed.

"So?" she didn't have to finish the question.

"It was," you leaned forward, "a witch. Or a gypsy woman. A naked old hag. She was horrifying. I think she's after me, because..."

"Because why?" Maria went from bemusement to concern.

"Because I used magic to make all this happen. Too much magic."

"To make what happen?"

"The sex. Fucking my mom, and Margo and Caitlin. You wouldn't have let me fuck anyone else two days ago, let alone your own sister and my own family."

"That's different. They're older."

You stared at her in frustration. She couldn't comprehend what was wrong with any of this. "Do you believe me?"

"Yes," she said to your relief. "And I know where we can fight magic."