Emotional Magic Ch. 01

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Emotional Magic

Hello Literotica! Longtime reader, first-time writer here!

This is a (hopefully) lengthy semi-autobiographical fantasy-story with strong emotional material, incest and lots of magic. I hope you enjoy!

-SwedeWriter

***

I had always had a sense of the world being secretly magical, but not even my wildest dreams could have prepared me for what I am about to tell you.

I am a 30 year old Scandinavian male. My name is Helge, an old nordic name meaning ‘lucky’. During my life I often laughed at that, as luck has not really been very prominent for me.

I suppose I’d better give you some background information.

I was born in January 1990. A dirt-blonde kid with grey-blue eyes. My birth was dramatic and premature. As a consequence I suffered two brain hemorrhages and was diagnosed with a lesser form of cerebral palsy and a partially paralyzed right foot. Quite a start for the lucky one. I suffered from spasms and cramps mainly in the right side of my body every day and learned to cope with pain early.

In spite of this, my childhood was rather pleasant in many ways. I grew up in a rural part of Sweden with a loving and supporting family. My father, Ulf, was a blonde, stoic and silent man, with a heart of gold. And although my raven haired mother, Rebecca, often wished he would give her more emotional connection, their marriage was a happy one.

My biggest supporters were my two older sisters — Diana especially (two years my senior), but also Emma (three years my senior). They looked quite similar to one another. Both sporting the blonde hair so famous for our part of the world. Their looks started diverging after they hit puberty, but before that they almost looked like twins.

Diana was bubbly, funny, confident and not afraid to say what was on her mind with a radiant smile. Her eyes were gorgeous things of deep blue spattered with green, making them look like pools of water in a deep, mystic forest.

Emma’s eyes were a piercing ice blue, and whenever she looked at me intently, I instinctively stopped to catch my breath out of the sheer force of her gaze. Highly intelligent and with a fire inside tempered by an inherited stoicism from our father, she was a force to be reckoned with in everything she did.

They gave me hell sometimes, but always cheered me on and hugged me when I needed it.

The whole family was quite physical – we often scratched each others heads or backs while watching TV, or hugged spontaneously. Emma and dad didn’t do it as much as the rest of us, but they never minded. Sure, having hyper sensitive nerves tended to make touch a bit challenging for me sometimes, but with my family it almost always felt relaxing.

Like I said, a pleasant childhood in many ways.

But there was no escaping the challenges before me, and my life was filled with intense physical rehab, surgeries and constant uphill battles for many years. I was intelligent, verbal and insightful, so I had no problem making friends, I even started practicing karate to help control my body. Yet the feeling of being an outsider never really left me. I became nerdy and somewhat introverted, seeking refuge in books that were far too complicated according to my teachers. I did not let this stop me and became a very avid reader.

Somewhere along the way I picked up a fascination with fantasy, mythology and magic. Partly due to learning a lot about folklore, but mainly because it attracted me somehow. The sense that there was more to this world than meets the eye. Something beautiful, powerful and magical that deserved to be honoured.

My mother used to have strange dreams, some of which came true to an eerie degree, and sometimes she just knew things. Sensed that someone would be coming to the house before they did, or she would buy things without telling anyone that, a few hours later, someone would need or want.

I seemed to have inherited this strange ability, and growing up there were numerous episodes that defied explanation. All small things, like knowing who was calling before answering the phone or sensing when someone was about to get hurt. But in hindsight there were a lot of signs for what was to come. I remember meditating for the first time and feeling like coming home. Like this was a piece of a puzzle I had no idea I had been laying all along. Combined with the fact that we took regular trips into the deep forests to our family cabin just walking in nature and enjoying the beauty of it, I was instilled even deeper with a sense of magic being present in life.

That sense never really left. It was a constant companion, especially so in connecting with people. I was always a sensitive child, with a depth and range quite unusual for a boy. “A Highly Sensitive Person” is what they would call it these days, but back then the term didn’t exist. Coupled with whatever magic I had in me, I developed an acute sense of peoples emotions without them often even needing to speak. And my own emotions were all over the place as a consequence. büyükçekmece escort Deep and far more intense than I was equipped to handle at such a young age.

I was prone to crying, being overwhelmed by the beauty and intricacy of even the smallest things. The sound of rain. Sunlight refracting on glass. The sense of joy that radiated from one of my friends when they were truly happy about something. It all pulsed and swirled around me and through me, just as easily and with the same simplicity as the forests enveloped me with their energy whenever we went to them. Sometimes it made me feel like ever more of an outsider, like I was far older than my years. I had problems relating to other kids at a deeper level, yet felt that I couldn’t speak to adults about it either, as I didn’t have any words to describe what was going on inside of me. So I started hiding that part of me away.

I remember one episode that really floored me. I was seven years old, still in a wheelchair from a major surgery on my right leg. Early april. I was sitting in the break yard at school, just looking out over the other kids running around, and the trees billowing lightly in the breeze. Something in me simply opened up, and I felt so interconnected with everything and everyone. It was marvelous, fantastic and absolutely terrifying at the same time. I couldn’t handle it. None of it. I felt so odd and alienated. Who would understand? Where would I even begin? I had to suppress it. A part of me just desperately wanted to be normal, even though I knew it would never happen. I hid away, escaped back to my beloved books.

A back and forth developed, where I would be flooded with joy and love over the magic and beauty in life, and then I’d shove it away and try to not stick out. There was a war going on inside me. A storm that slowly built itself up, year after year.

Diana felt this and tried to help. It did help, but shame can be a sticky thing. We were similar in many ways, she and I. She felt that magical connection too, albeit in a different way. We didn’t talk about it often, but sometimes when we were playing with friends or walking in nature and I felt something come over me, she would squeeze my hand and nod to show me she felt it too, sharing that space with me. We developed a close relationship growing up.

Years passed and I went from a struggling kid to a struggling young man of eighteen. That storm in me kept on building. Looking back at it I’m amazed at how I didn’t explode from keeping all of it shut away, but as anyone will tell you, children are resilient and stubborn, even when they shouldn’t be.

Before I move on I have a confession to make.

I always thought my sisters were beautiful as a kid, and that feeling only escalated as we hit our late teens. Diana and Emma grew into gorgeous women, both physically and emotionally. Horniness mixed with love, attraction and shame inside me as I found myself growing ever more sexually attracted to both my sisters over the years.

When I was eighteen and a half I had come to a point where I could no longer deny it to myself. Especially when it came to Diana. And I had no idea how to handle it.

Diana — now twenty – was short, a bit over 160 cm in height. But she had the most amazing body. Long blonde hair that flowed freely down to the small of her back. Curves in all the right places.

The main thing that drew the attention from boys – including me – were her breasts. Simply put, they were enormous. Easily a DD-cup when she was just thirteen, at twenty they were even larger, probably at least an F-cup, and still seemingly growing. Diana was oozing sexuality and eroticism, and she knew it.

She wasn’t a slut or anything, but she never had trouble getting attention or finding a boyfriend. I saw her naked in the shower one morning by accident when I was going to the bathroom a few months back, and couldn’t get the image out of my head. After that I kept stealing glances at her whenever I thought I could get away with it and masturbated to fantasies of her almost daily.

Our relationship continued to grow. We shared a lot. Diana often came to me with her troubles, and I did my best to make her feel better. Heartbreak, anxiety, frustration – you name it. I always managed somehow, even though I rarely had any kind of real-life experiences to draw from.

There just seemed to be some kind of inherent wisdom somewhere inside me that told me what to do or say to ease her pain. A connection to her I couldn’t explain. We shared a love of books and all things nerdy, like superhero movies, Video Games (especially Nintendo and The Legend of Zelda) and I loved her more than anyone in my family.

Diana did her best to support me as well. She helped me through my first heartbreak when it happened just a little while after I’d turned eighteen — a lovely girl named Sonja that was brilliant in many ways. She had quite strong issues with anything regarding sex though, and that started grating on me. Something çağlayan escort in me yearned deeply for physical intimacy, but Sonja and I never went beyond making out and petting

It triggered a lot of my insecurities. Combine that with my inability to master or even understand my innate intensity, and it was bound to fall apart from the start. I felt like crap about the whole thing, and a part of me hated myself deeply.

I told Diana most of it, and shared more of my moods and emotions with her than anyone else. Although there was a lot I never dared share even with her, I was simply too ashamed. Not the darkness I kept hidden away. Not how I desperately had begun trying to suppress myself after the whole ordeal with Sonja. Or how disgusted I felt with myself. Not the tiredness I had been feeling over the last few months. Especially not the fact that I often masturbated to thoughts of her naked body, or how hugging her or even being near her had started sending tingles down my body.

Emma — now twenty one – had acquired a different kind of beauty. She couldn’t compare to Diana in the breast department, but she had such a well-proportioned body that she reminded me of a mythological Valkyrie. Tall, at 185 cm, with short, spiky blonde hair, large breasts, a sculpted ass, long legs and well-toned body that showed off her beauty and strength. A true warrior.

We had a more usual sister-brother relationship. She worked out a lot, and trained karate with me for many years. She was a real help during my physical rehab, but although I dearly wanted to connect with her as easily as I did with Diana, Emma always felt more distant and guarded. Still highly intelligent, with a silent confidence and a strong presence that wouldn’t be denied by anyone. If she ever found out I snuck glances at her when we changed after practice, she probably would’ve punched me six ways to sunday.

I was nothing like my sisters. I looked average in comparison. 175 cm, with a crew cut and a wiry yet all too scrawny frame. And though my eyes had turned the grey of rainclouds and were – according to my mother – “filled with mystery, just like your father’s”, I always felt ugly next to my sisters. Especially since my handicap made me slightly crooked, gave me a limp and made me drag my right foot whenever I got really tired.

One warm, sunny day in early summer we decided to have a family sleepover at the cabin. We were all having a rough time – mom and dad were overworked, Diana had recently broken up with her boyfriend (one in a line of many), and Emma was tired from school.

Me, I was just trudging along, trying to do my best. I was scheduled for another major surgery in a few months though, and that scared me. I was still pretty heartbroken over Sonja dumping me. I knew I shouldn’t be, but certain things just seemed to stay in me longer than for most people. Like a guitar with a bigger resonance-box. I took in things deeply, that hadn’t gone away. It was both a blessing and a curse. In this instance, it felt very much like a curse. So the cabin called to all of us in it’s own way. It had really grown into our own sanctuary over the years.

***

Shortly after arriving, Diana and I decided to go hiking spontaneously in the forest next to our cabin. This had become a regular thing for us when visiting, as we both had a wanderlust in us that prompted us to explore aimlessly. So while the rest of the family were busy unloading the car, chopping up firewood and checking on the cabin, me and Diana had snuck away in silent agreement, starting along our favourite path. We jokingly referred to it as “The Kokiri Forest”, as we used to play-pretend all manner of Zelda-themed adventures there as kids.

I glanced at Diana several times while we walked. She was walking next to me, wearing a tight fitting moss-green tank top and a sports bra that did nothing to dissuade her breasts from bouncing oh so enticingly. Her blonde hair was tucked into a ponytail, and her legs were wrapped in a pair of form-fitting brown knee-length shorts, hugging the curves of her plump rear and a pair of brown hiking boots.

My head was swimming with impressions and thoughts. My ever escalating attraction to her. My impending surgery. My still-present heartbreak. The way she looked in the sunlight. Needless to say I was in quite a vulnerable state. But I did my best to try and just enjoy the moment.

I was dressed in a pair of grey stretch jeans, a black Zelda-themed T-shirt and a black pair of boots – our father was adamant that we wear proper footwear while in the forest. I had opted to carry the brown backpack with our water bottles, a thermos filled with tea and some light snacks – in Scandinavia we have a thing called ‘fika’, which is basically a small snack with some kind of beverage – often coffee or tea, that we eat together while socialising. It’s a cultural thing. But no hike is ever complete without a fika-break.

We walked for about fifteen-twenty minutes in silence, enjoying the ambiance çapa escort of the forest around us. I kept stealing glances at my sister, her body swaying and moving, and her face smiling brightly as she let the serenity wash over her. A sense of love washed gently over me in turn, mingling with the slowly rising arousal in my body. I loved my sister.

But that love had begun to change for me. Growing ever deeper and more intense, mutating slowly. I felt truly blessed to have her. The closeness we shared, the fact that I could tell her just about anything. That tingle she made me feel. So as we came upon a small pond and started to slow down our tempo, I decided to try and tell her something of it at least.

I knew it would be hard, but I had to at least try.

“Hey, sis?”

“Yeah?” she kept walking slowly but turned her head to give me that dazzling smile.

“I, uh…I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?” her voice was full of warmth, yet a little bit confused.

“For…well, for everything, I guess. For being you. For supporting me.”

She stopped and hugged me, her warm, curvy body pressing deliciously into mine.

“You are so welcome”, she whispered, her breath tickling my ear and sending sparks down my body. “Are you okay?”

I sighed, and she kept hugging me close. Her smell filled my nostrils. A sweet scent of apple-scented shampoo mixed with her cucumber & green tea-deodorant, her own distinct odour and just a hint of fir-trees. I could feel my heartbeat increasing, and to my dismay, her proximity started having an effect on my body. My cock started to harden and push softly against the contours of her body. She gave no indication that she had noticed, but the whole situation made my body start to tremble a bit.

Suddenly I was overwhelmed by a rush of emotions. The love I felt, the attraction, the shame of it being wrong, the sense of being a failure compared to her and Emma and a ton of other things. Darker things. The storm came surging. The things I had never shared with anyone out loud. Sadness. Loneliness. Feeling like a freak with emotions too powerful to ever fit in or function properly in this world. Feeling different, feeling like a loser, having turned eighteen and never really gone beyond kissing a girl.

Wondering if I ever would, if anyone would ever want a piece of second-rate human like me. What did it matter that I did well in school? I was an outsider, a disgusting mess of a boy destined for loneliness. And soon I was going to have to go through surgery again, ending up in a wheelchair for quite some time, and going through god knows how many months of rehab.

It was too much. Especially wrapped in the arms of my gorgeous, erotic sister. I couldn’t handle it. I started shaking and closed my eyes. I gulped for air and felt tears start to run down my cheeks.

“Hey…” my sister said, placing her right hand on my cheek. “Hey, brother, look at me.”

I shook my head. I couldn’t. I was stuck in a vortex of emotional energy.

The tears kept on coming. What must she think of me, having a breakdown while out on an amazing hike like this? Ruining everything.

“Hey, let’s sit down by the pond. It’s okay, I’ve got you. Lean on me.”

I started sobbing openly, swept away by the flood coursing through my body. My sister’s arms wrapped themselves around me with surprising strength and guided me to a sitting position on the ground, never letting go.

She held me close and stroked my hair. I felt tense as a violin about to burst, my whole body cramping and aching. But there was something else there too, I realised. That tingle. No, that’s not what it was. It felt the same, but much stronger. Like… A… current. A pulse. A soft, magical and comforting electricity running back and forth between us.

“It’s okay”, she whispered soothingly, stroking my face. “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

“I…I just, I-, I-” I stammered, trying to find any sort of words at all, gulping for air.

I felt her rustling around in the backpack, her body pressing even tighter into mine as she tried getting to it without letting her hold on me go. The current grew stronger, flowing back and forth, heightening my senses.

I felt all of it. Her breasts dragging across my right shoulder and part of my stomach, her tank top pushing down, exposing more of her skin, creating trails of sparks wherever her body touched mine. Her heartbeat. I felt butterflies start to join in the hurricane inside. Butterflies by the thousands. My eyes still wouldn’t open.

I sensed a bottle being pushed to my lips, and I gratefully drank a few sips of water. I took a deep breath. The words came on their own. Slow and quiet.

“I…I feel like such a fucking failure,” I said with my eyes still shut, my voice raw and shaking. “Such a stupid, ugly fucking freak.”

“Don’t you dare say that.” My sister’s voice was filled with iron, and the current leapt into me like a white hot flash. “Hey. Look at me. Look at me, Helge!” I opened my eyes and was met with my sister’s gorgeous green-blue orbs just inches from my face. The current rose once again. Images of me kissing her came into my mind, merging with flashbacks to seeing her naked in the shower and all the masturbation sessions mixed in with the swirling energy in her eyes to a gravitational force that I couldn’t resist. It made me dizzy.

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