Professional Witchcraft (Multi TG Preg)

By FoxFaceStories

A Commission for Planologer

Max is an ordinary young man struggling in college, while his parents Emma and Francis are dealing with an unexpected pregnancy. But everything changes when Aunt Lily drops by for a visit to his family. Aunt Lily is a witch, and thinks she can solve Emma and Francis’ marital problems, just like her apprentice thinks she can help Max and his friend Corey with their gender studies course. Soon all four individuals find themselves in new bodies and lives. Family reunions can be crazy, but usually not this crazy!

Professional Witchcraft

Part 1: A Magical Reunion

‘It’s gonna be a sunny time in Midtown tomorrow thanks to our Arcane Meteorology Department. A big shoutout to our magical ladies for giving us a nice break from these Spring showers, though be warned, it’s right back to rainy days until Wednesday. Can’t be wrecking the natural order too much, after all! For now though, keep in doors everyone and look forward to tomorrow-”

         Max switched off the television. Typical, he thought. One day of warmth among a ton of wet, depressing days, all when he was meant to be enjoying his summer break before getting ready for the next semester of college. And even then, it was only because of witchcraft.

It wasn’t like Max had anything against  witches, per se. Ever since witchcraft had become more accepted in the last couple of hundred years, the public had experienced a net gain. Major repairs after natural disasters were a lot breezier when you had a team of women who could knit together the deep fissures of an earthquake, for instance. And zoos worldwide had become a lot more up to standard and humane since the ‘talking to animals’ spell had been invented: it was hard to claim that the Bangkok City Zoo was conservationally friendly, for instance, when there were people who could get the lions to complain in a language everyone understood. Missing persons, particularly those that got lost on national park trails and the like, were now a walk in the proverbial park. So Max had to admit that witchcraft in the modern world was by and large a good thing.

He just resented the fact that he didn’t have any magic power of his own to sort out a few life problems, most of which were compounding to make him increasingly uncertain about the direction of his life. As far as keeping count, he had four problems that were making life difficult:

One: despite playing soccer enthusiastically all throughout high school, he had failed to make the cut to a college team yet again . Last year he had been turned away, and now he was training like a demon to get in this  time. The possibility of another embarrassment was putting him one edge.

Two: in order to get full credits for his major in sports science (he wanted to work in fitness, health, or perhaps even become a P.E. teacher one day), he still had to pass his chosen minor. Unfortunately, his best friend Corey had convinced him to take gender studies , a course his buddy promised would be ‘an easy cinch,’ but instead now proved to have numerous in-depth essays and theoretical readings attached to it. It was also too late to back out of it.

Three: he was about to become an older brother in just five or six weeks. His mother Emma was eight months pregnant with a surprise baby. He knew she’d had him young, being only eighteen when she’d gotten pregnant, but that still put her at nearly thirty nine years old, given that he was turning twenty in just a month. In fact, the due date was placed exactly on his own birthday, just for insult’s sake. His mother and father - Francis - hadn’t stopped bickering ever since the news of their surprise baby had come along, and while Corey was increasingly by his side to listen to his woes, it irritated him to no end that his parents were having a second  kid, one nearly twenty years his junior!

And of course, that led to Four: Aunt Lily. Max had never met his father Francis’ sister, but apparently she was visiting for the weekend and to help his mother out. She was always travelling, at least according to Max’s Dad, but he hadn’t seen her in a long time. It was obvious that something  was the reason she didn’t visit until now, though, because his mother had been even more stressed than normal, and that was something, given that she was a cranky pregnant thirty eight year old woman. It didn’t take a genius to realise, though, that if things were awkward between Francis and Aunt Lily, it was probably because Max’s Mom Emma really  didn’t like her. She seemed to scowl everytime she came up in conversation.

“Just four things to deal with,” Max said to himself, lying back on the couch. “A visit from a potentially hostile aunt, another essay due within a week of returning to college, a damn baby sister or brother to come along shortly, and the freakin’ possibility that I’ll fail yet another attempt to get on the soccer team. Ugh.”

He puffed up, then exhaled in an exaggerated manner.

“It’s not all bad, I guess,” he said aloud. His phone buzzed and he checked the message. It was his best friend, Corey.

Hey dude, can I come hang tomorrow morning??? Parents are trying to kick me out again - not literally but u know what i mean.

Max smirked. He and Corey had been best buds since early high school days, but his friend could be a lot. He had the kind of excitable personality that could easily grate on newcomers, and he could only imagine that his parents wanted a break from him from time to time, especially if he was babbling on about a new movie or show he was obsessed with, or another hair-brained scheme to get a girlfriend, which often blew up in his face.

Sure thing, man. Sure my folks won’t mind. Got a weird aunt visiting so it’ll be good to have an excuse to dip out.

Sweet! I’ll make sure to say hi to your mom 2. I bet she’s struggling with being super duper preggo and all.

A laughing emoji was sent back, and that was that. The nineteen-going-on-twenty year old lay back on the couch, kicking up his feet. Despite his relaxation, he looked every part the fit athlete: his body was tan from the sun, and his dark hair swept back in natural waves as if he were running in a sneakers commercial. He wasn’t chisel-jawed or anything, but he knew he was pretty good looking, and had experienced success with girlfriends in the past. Unfortunately, he’d lost a lot of his mojo since life’s problems piled up and his confidence evaporated. He was really hoping to find a lasting relationship with a girl he liked, somehow.

“Get through this aunt visit,” he said, tossing a hacky sack up into the air and catching it. “Then I can tackle the rest.” He threw the sack and caught it again. “Hmm, wonder what Mom’s beef with her is?”

***

“Damn it, she’ll be here any second. I can’t believe you convinced me into this, especially with me about to burst any second!”

        Francis adjusted his glasses and scratched at his dark brown hair in a frustrated manner. “Honey, you’re not about to burst. You’re not even eight months pregnant. It’s not that big of a deal. You’re not going to give birth.”

        “Oh, and no woman has ever gone into premature labour, right? Especially over stress? Is that what you’re saying?”

        “Umm . . . no? But it’s not likely. You just need to relax.”

        Emma flung her arms up in the air. “Exactly! This is a terrible idea. We should cancel. Tell her she can’t come. Especially not with her . . . talent.”

        Francis placed a comforting hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Honey, you know we can’t cancel. She’s come all this way. It’ll be good for Max to connect to other family before the baby arrives. Besides, she’s my sister. I find things with her a little awkward but it will be good to see her.”

        He lowered her hand to caress her swollen belly, and this seemed to calm Emma somewhat. He was older than his wife by only a couple of years, but one would have thought the gap was bigger at that moment, and not in her favour either. Whereas Francis Donaldson appeared to be a slightly lanker man of around forty, with smart glasses and neatly combed brown hair, Emma appeared to be completely frazzled, as if she were a pregnant woman approaching her fiftieth year rather than her fortieth. She normally looked quite beautiful, and pregnancy theoretically should have had her glowing. But instead she was tired from the baby constantly moving about, stressed over dealing with her son’s frustrations with . . . everything, she supposed, and her hair was a tangled mess that hadn’t been washed properly. The bags under her eyes also aged her, the bloodshot look in her gaze adding a manic quality too.

        “Mhmmm, just cup the belly a little longer,” she said, letting her husband take the weight of it and relaxing her shoulders a little. “I swear, it’s just the worst. I’d love to just do away with this whole pregnancy experience.”

        Francis paused his ministrations. “Honey, we’ve been down this road. I know you’re concerned because this baby came along accidentally, but I thought we had both had enough time to be excited to meet them.”

        Emma rubbed her temples. “Of course I’m excited. I love this child, I really do, even if I wish I’d had them years ago instead of when I’m about to hit forty. But I just want the baby, dear. I’d love to just have the baby and not have to worry about going through all the pregnancy. It’s affecting me medically, don’t forget.”

        “Well, that’s sad to hear,” Francis replied. He raised his hands up, slowly moving towards her breasts in her white maternity singlet. “I think it’s just a beautiful thing seeing you swell up with our child again. And I don’t mind about these. ”

        He cupped her large breasts, which had gone up two whole cup sizes, from respectable B’s to full Double-D’s, a ripe pair of cantaloupes which had necessitated new bras to support them.

        “Hey!” she groaned, pushing his hands away and stepping out of his reach. “Those are sensitive! I’ve told you this so many times.”

        “Sorry, I just thought . . . maybe if you were in the mood, or I could calm you down by getting you in the mood-”

        “Don’t lie, you just enjoy feeling my tits instead of listening to how hyper emotional I am. I swear, I just want this over with. I want a baby in my arms and a flat stomach and I want to be selling houses again, not languishing in maternity leave. And I’m really sorry, honey, I truly am, but sex is just so exhausting right now.”

        Francis huffed. “We could true. Sometimes you’ve got to go the extra mile to make your partner-”

        “Don’t even finish that sentence, mister! I am  going the extra mile. You can be patient and stop badgering me for sex!”

        Emma gently pushed her husband out of the bedroom and slammed the door shut, catching her breath (a hard thing to do while pregnant) before moving to the bathroom.

        “What a horndog of a man I married, I swear,” she muttered. She looked at herself in the mirror and was utterly despondent. Her belly was massive, dominating her form. Her obstetrician had told her that she was carrying more fluid than most. She thought it looked like she was carrying twins, almost. Her baby was sleeping inside her now, at least, but that didn’t stop the little tyke from stirring, almost like it could sense her stress.

        “God, I’m a mess,” she said. “And huge. This big heavy balloon, not to mention these huge boobs. It’s too much. It’s all too much.”

        But then she sighed, and began to strip down, ready for a shower. Lily would be here in an hour or so, and while Max was downstairs in his own room, shut off from the world as he studied or played games, she had a good amount of time to make herself ready.

        One thing was for sure: there was no way she was going to have a hair out of place when her husband’s sister visited, no matter how she felt deep inside. Emma and her had never gotten along, and it was all because of Lily’s profession. No, the pregnant woman would prove how unnecessary magic was, even if she had to lie to do so.

***

The doorbell rang as Emma descended down the stairs. Francis found it hard not to look at his wife as she did so. Despite still looking a little tired and certainly more than a little irritated, she was undeniably gorgeous to the man. His wife wore a blue maternity dress that hugged her swollen belly just so, and she’d fixed up her hair, blow-dried it, and even put on the nice emerald-studded earrings that looked spectacular on her.

        “You look unbelievably beautiful, my darling,” he exclaimed.

        “Thanks, dear, but I feel like a beachball,” she said, clutching her belly as she made it to the ground floor. “Was that the doorbell?”

        “I believe it was. I’ll get it. You fetch Max.”

        “No! No, you fetch Max. We should all be there, and he listens to you more. Besides, I want to make a clear impression.”

        “Please don’t scare my sister off.”

        “I’m just showing her that Im being tolerant.”

        She waddled over to the front door while Francis moved to Max’s room. He knocked quickly, then barged in, only for Max to groan.

        “I told you, wait till I answer! I could be doing anything in here!”

        “Well, if you feel that way, maybe you should move out?”

        “I’m working on it! Who is it?”

        Francis smirked. “Your Aunt Lily. She’s arrived. You can come meet her now.”

        The pair moved back to the entrance hall, Francis with his teeth set. He really wanted things to go well. Emma was so on edge lately, and clearly not enjoying her pregnancy despite all of his efforts to make it so. With her hormones sky high, it had made it difficult for him to say even the most innocuous sentence around her, for fear of setting her off, though even he had to acknowledge that perhaps pushing her to accept his sister’s offer of visitation was too much, especially since the woman was already insistent on staying the weekend. He could only hope that things went well.

        That hope quickly died as soon as he rounded the corner and saw not one, but two  women standing at the door, and his wife smiling pleasantly in an expression that could only be described as like that of a cat ready to pounce on a foe. The kind that said ‘I told you so, didn’t I?”

        “Honey,” she said, her voice laced with acid, “your sister Lily is here, and she’s invited a surprise guest . Isn’t that exciting?”

        She indicated to the two women, and Francis was crestfallen. Antics like this were why he didn’t see his sister often. The older woman was obviously his sister. He hadn’t seen her in years, but somehow she was even lovelier than he remembered; she always got more compliments than him when they were young. She had long, luscious black hair and pale skin, and was a good deal more beautiful than her pregnant sister-in-law, but her facial structure had the same slightly thin lips and sharp cheeks as he did, and eyes that seemed to know more than they let on.

“This  is your sister?” Max said, astonished.

Francis nodded, stepping forward. “Yes, Max. Meet your Aunt Lily.”

        Emma fumed, feeling very much not up to her sister-in-law’s standard. Lily just laughed - it was almost a cackle. She stepped into the doorway, her sharp purple dress flowing around her ankles.

        “Oh, don’t stare too much! This is just a look I sort of . . . put on! You know how it is with magic. The customer expects a certain attractive and mesmerising quality and I’ve just gotten used to it! Now, my brother, come here! It’s so good to see you!”

        She embraced Francis, kissing him dramatically on each cheek. Even her voice sounded free and delightful. She gestured at the younger woman, who was a tomboyish looking Latina woman in her early twenties, abouts. She had her hair in a pixie cut and several studs on her right eyebrow, and with her biker jacket and jeans she looked simultaneously very cool - at least to Max’s eyes - and out of place.

        “This is my apprentice and current assistant,” Lily declared, pushing the smaller woman forward, “Valentina. She’s truly gifted in the transformative arts, just like yours truly.”

        “Transformative arts?” Max said, not knowing what was going on.

        Lily’s eyes almost glowed with excitement. “Oh, but I forget my manners! You must be Max! My darling nephew. The last time I saw you, well, you had just learned too walk. How are you, dear?”

        Max looked about, feeling put on the spot. “Um, pretty good. I’m preparing to try out for the college soccer team.”

        Valentina scoffed, which took the wind out of his sails, somewhat. Emma looked furious at the intrusion, but Francis was already at her side, pestering her to calm.

        “Wonderful! And Emma, lovely to see you as well! You’re so big! It’s incredible! You look like you’re carrying a house, but the most beautiful house there is.”

        Emma ground her teeth.

“By the moon, it’s good to see you again. I hope . . . I hope it’s good for you to see me as well.”

        Emma sighed, trying not to view Lily in the worst light, though she wasn’t helping. Max was getting the distinct impression that Lily was quite the haughty one.

        “It’s . . . good to see you too, Lily, she managed. As for the bump, well, I can’t say we expected a baby this late along in life, but a blessing is a blessing.”

        “It truly is a blessing,” Francis said, placing a hand over his wife’s shoulder.

        Lily nudged her brother in the ribs. “Of course you’d say that, brother, you don’t have to carry it. Or deal with swollen ankles. Or kicking in the night. Or exhaustion.”

        Emma actually felt oddly comforted by her sister-in-law’s words . . . until the uninvited visitor spoke.

        Valentina looked about. “Well, it’s cool to meet you all. Um, I’ll go and unpack. Where can I stay?”

        Emma huffed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise we’d get another  person. Lily, you should have told me you had a plus one.”

        “Oh, honey, I didn’t think you’d mind. Besides, she really is wonderful. She’ll stay in my room, I swear. I need my apprentice. I really thought I’d told you.”

        Francis played peacekeeper with his sister. He took some of the luggage that Valentina was fiddling with and hefted it up. “Follow me,” he said. “I’ll show you to your room.”

        He left, and so did Valentina, though she did wave casually to Max. He was annoyed to realise the girl who had been dismissive of him a moment ago was actually quite attractive, and her brief smirk made his heart flutter. To distract himself, he turned back to the crippling tension between his mother and Lily.

        “Um, I’ve really got to ask something,” he said as the two passive-aggressively argued back and forth about Valentina’s status.

        “What!?” Emma spat.

        “What is it, dearie?” Aunt Lily said, far more casually.

        “Well, uh, when you said ‘illusory’ before, and talked about ‘transformative’ stuff as well. Uh, what did you mean by that? Like, is that a metaphor, or do you do stage work or something?”

        There was a protracted silence, during which Emma became crestfallen. The truth had to come out somehow, but she never expected it so soon. Aunt Lily, on the other hand, was finally without her cool, her mouth agape as she flicked her gaze back and forth between mother and son.

        “Do you mean to tell me that you never told him what I do?” she said. “I know you don’t approve, Emma-”

        “It’s far more than I don't approve! It’s unnatural, and it’s chaotic! And all those difficulties you caused when Francis and I were dating, and then you upstaging our engagement party, not to mention the leadup to the wedding!”

        “I know, I was a self-obsessed fool, vain and ridiculous! I’ve changed since then, and Francis has forgiven me. And I said sorry to you more times than I can count!”

        “Not enough! I learned my lesson. What you do is grotesque!”

        Max gestured wildly, trying to get their attention back. “What is? What’s grotesque!?”

        Lily raised an eyebrow, but Emma just huffed and stormed off, muttering about needing to plan dinner for “this lovely family reunion.”

        “What did she mean, Aunt Lily?” Max asked.

        “Isn’t it obvious, dear?” the beautiful woman said, flicking her hair back dramatically. She touched a potted plant nearby and whispered some words, and it suddenly twisted and changed from its near-dead form, becoming a gorgeous set of vibrant purple roses to match her dress.

        “I’m a witch,” she said, grinning.

        “And she’s teaching me magic!” Valentina called from upstairs.

To Be Continued . . .