Alpine Hideaway Magic Ch. 06

She seemed placid and calm about the whole activity and I figured she was just using her mind trick to fend off the biting cold of a mountain spring that came directly from a frigid source up on the high snow fields. But no, something else was true. My tante gave me a little push from behind and I fell forward into the rushing water, completely unprepared!

I hit the water bracing for an electrifying shock of cold -that never came! I stood, mad for a brief instant at being tripped up and then realized the water was warm as a cup of tea. It also was a bit cloudy, for I could not see my feet in what should have been a clear running mountain stream. I looked at Oma and Tante totally confused. They were both laughing at my terror and then at my subsequent realization that all was not as it seemed.

"There is a thermal seam," Oma explained, "deep in the base of this mountain. The fissure goes straight down into the bowels of this mountain range I suppose. A few years ago we had several men from the Reich's Science Ministry do a some geological surveys on the mud vents up ahead of us. They were geologists or some other group of fancy fellows with important titles coming up here to measure everything concerning the boiling mud coming up from the ground. I spoke to one fellow about it and he told me all about it."

"Did he tell you this willingly or did you get some use out of your wand?" I asked my grandmother, feeling rather snide with my question.

"I invited the young man in for tea and hot soup back at the hut," she continued, ignoring the impertinence of my comment, "and he told me how there is a similar hot spring fissure down in back of the palace in the next valley."

"And a member of a Reich's Ministry just told you everything about a project he was working on?" I said keeping my smirk and doubting that she had told the whole story.

"Well," she said looking at her bare feet in the grass as if they were now particularly interesting, "I suppose ...my wand came out while he was having a second bowl of soup. Yes, perhaps that is true."

"And did that young scientist find himself staying much longer than just the time required for lunch," I asked "and then did he wake up in the meadow several hours later with no memory of events and his shoes upon the wrong feet?" I laughed at her expense, clearly seeing now that I had hit a nerve. She blushed red as she remembered something particularly lewd and tawdry and then she looked back at her bare feet some more.

"A girl has needs yes? You understand? I recall he and I did some lovely experiments together as two devotees to science and both of us did much to gain understanding of the mysteries of the earth," she said looking rather sheepish. She then giggled and her face took on a bawdy expression as she recalled, "Oh, he had such a lovely slide rule, or was it a thermometer. All I know is that it was long and he stuck me with it in several places!" Oma and Tante Margarite exploded with laughter at this observation and I shook my head.

My aunt joined me in the unusually warm water and walked to the far bank, careful not to slip. At the far side we joined my grandmother and walked on up the slope to the flats. We walked parallel to another small stream that ran out of the flats and into the larger that we had just crossed.

"See this stream; how it smokes and steams?" Oma asked me. I nodded observing that the surface of the water had wispy traces of vapor rising from its surface. Oma continued,

"It runs directly out of the mud vents. Back behind us about where we crossed the big stream, the water mixes with the frigid water from the snow fields you see high above us! This little stream is a little bit hotter before it dumps into the larger one. It is about as warm as a nice bath. That is we are taking you there. It is truly something to see and experience."

"Experience?" I asked.

"We are going to make family goulash soup!" Tante Margarite laughed as she swatted me playfully on the behind.

"Well," Oma corrected, "familial fondue or familial hot cocoa anyhow!" She and Margarite tittered like two lecherous old women as we made our way up to the muddy place in the meadow. When we arrived we stood on stony outcrops of rock that pushed up from the grass and lichens making a nice solid perch for us to take in the scene before us. And what a scene it was!

I looked across a great collection of holes; some completely covered in mud and some containing clear water that looked a bit warm by bathtub standards. Another stream ran out of the forest and cascaded through ancient boulders into the flats. It spilled into the basin formed by the collection of muddy pits, running around some of the craters and pouring into others directly. Some holes appeared dark and cloudy, while others up higher away from the edge of the vast collection of mud holes were clear as though looking through a window pane but still filled with water that I judged to be much hotter. Within these clear holes I saw brightly colored mineral deposits that reminded me of illustrations in some children's books I had seen years before.

The water that streamed into the mud pots and collected and swirled before us, steamed and smoked in the gentle breeze giving the place the appearance of a Roman style bath or a Scandinavian sauna. It churned around a bit in the bubbling nooks and crannies and then exited the mud pots by way of the steaming brook, carrying its sediments with it to head down the meadow to the main stream where we had just come from. It had a beautiful and surreal appearance that was nothing short of "otherworldly."

"Oma," I said to my grandmother, "you mentioned that the palace has something like this down in the next valley over from your farmhouse?"

"Yes," Oma said to me, "the old palace was the sight of many visits by nobles and elites who would come to use the 'smoking pools' and the 'natural healing water baths" in the gardens behind the main residence. The nobles who lived there build a large pavilion in the middle of the gardens and people would go and use the hot baths and the hot mineral mud for all kinds of ailments."

"What good does the mud do?" I asked.

"Oh," said Oma knowingly, "the mud is full of mineral sediments from deep inside the Earth Mother. It has special power all its own!"

"And it does wondrous things for those who bathe in it," added my tante who continued with, "well, some wondrous, and some deliciously wicked."

The two women grabbed me by a hand on either side of me and the three of us stepped from the outcrop first onto a bed of warm muddy sediments that were drying in the sun and then up to the edge of the cloudy swirling water, leaving footprints behind as we stepped. We walked forward out to our knees in the soupy mess and the temperature of the eddies of dark muddy current was definitely hot, but not so much as to cause discomfort. Oma looked over to a side bank of the pits where the mud looked particularly dark and viscous.

"There! Let's make our way over there," she said nodding in the direction with her head and we waded through deeper water that was up to our midsection and was cloudy as a blackish/grey plaster at the deepest point. We then started up a slight rise until we made the far side. As we reached the steaming embankment Oma released my hand and turned around. She fell backwards into the soft black mud, sinking up to her neck and making a contented, AHHHHHHH! SO NICE! Tante Margarite followed suit and did the same; a look of happiness spreading across her face.

I figured there was obviously no danger in any of this so I spun around and fell backwards, ending up in a sitting position between my aunt and grandmother with steaming warm mud up to our necks. It was wonderfully comforting and primal; like jumping into a warm bed after a night out in the cold or being wrapped in a hot towel after a cold plunge in icy water. Every squish and squash of my body in the slightly hot sediments felt luxurious! There was only one small problem.

"What is that smell? It is like gunpowder or rotten eggs." I asked.

"There is sulfur in the mineral deposits," Oma with a blissful smile on her face, "it is marvelously ...therapeutic!" She closed her eyes and let the sun stream down and strike her in the face. She now had hot mud running in a line from the base of her chin all the way back to her earlobes and everything below that line was completely submerged in the hot black soup.

"It also invigorates," said Tante Margarite to my other side, "in many mysterious ways." She also was in up to her neck in the sulfurous black pudding and I could best describe her look as an intoxicated state of primal contentment mixed with a good old flirtatious leer. I wasn't certain if it was the effect of the mushrooms or the "healing" properties of the mud but a second later I found two grasping female hands come in from either side and begin raking fingernails up and down my flesh in lewd fashion; unseen below the bubbling hot sediments that surrounded me!

I felt my loins begin to surge and stir somewhere down in the black mineral soup. Was it my imagination and my aunt's suggestion combined with the persistent rubbing hands that was doing this to me? Was it the bullweed? Was it the mushroom fog from the kitchen...or was it truly the properties of this otherworldly bath of hot mineral stew in which I was sitting? I didn't know, but what I was certain of; the beast in my balls was snarling and ready to go, as my "short arm" stood up and stiffly saluted.

Oma and Tante Margarite leered again at me with foxlike grins across their faces. Hands now found my cock and both women pouted their lips, and mewed at me with soothing tones and exaggerated wrinkles on their brows. Oma's had found my bollocks and squeezed gently as my tante ran her hand up and down my veiny pole.

"Oh it's just like iron Mutti," Tante exclaimed in a teasing whine, "like the barrel of a cannon!"

"Ja daughter," Oma replied, "and I found his powderbag and cannonballs! Do you think we should practice a little gunnery?"

"I do Mutti," Tante shot back wickedly, "I most certainly do!"

A moment later and Tante straddled across my lap somewhere down in the black ooze (all I could see was her face and shoulders before me). She sheathed my cock up into her cunny and began to buck and ride me. Oma lay next to us in the bubbling warm blackness with her head next to mine and ran her hands over us. The muck and mire proved to be quite slippery, even a bit greasy as we thrashed about in what could be described as a truly filthy fuck!

As we bucked and thrashed together, I couldn't help but notice that both women now looked much younger (as the effects of my magical healing seed had taken hold). Oma could now pass for a woman in her late forties as almost every trace of grey hair was gone; replaced by a black mane of hair. Also gone were her lines and wrinkles, save a very few. With Tante Margarite the same was true. She still looked like a mature woman but now she had the appearance of a lady in her late thirties who had experienced quite an easy life, instead of one characterized by the toil of farming and sheepherding. They knew they had a good thing with me and they planned to keep me nice and safe up here in our mountain hideaway; at least until we knew that nobody was looking for me!

After a few minutes of thrashing and fucking in the sloppy warm black mess, my Tante screamed and cried with joy as I grunted and blew my seed straight up into her cunny! Meanwhile while Oma cheered us on, impatient for her turn! Tante switched out with her mother and before I was able to go limp the old witch mounted my member and began to hop up and down upon it with great enthusiasm. My head was still a fog from all the bullweed I had smoked so in very short time I had something quite veiny and hard to work with, (it didn't hurt in the least that I was also eighteen and feeling my oats)!

We continued to rut and lunge our bodies together in the wonderful stinking black mess like a pair of pigs! All we needed was a wooden pen around the bubbling mud pit for the scene to be complete I mused. As Tante Margarite now egged us on over the next several minutes with absolutely foul suggestions and rubbed her hands upon us, I felt Oma's excitement begin to rise and build.

Oma eventually joined in with her daughter's filthy suggestive speech as her crescendo rose higher and higher. At last it sounded as though they were having an argument of sorts as both screamed obscenities at one another! It might have been something to completely off-putting for myself and my erection under "normal" circumstances, but I was full of lustful energy and bullweed smoke, there was simply no stopping me! As I thrashed and plowed Oma's quim, I noticed that the pool of black muck was bubbling with greater and greater intensity. I realized then my grandmother was not cursing but reciting the incantation another sexual spell and seemed to be in an altered state of consciousness!

My grandmother's shrieks and howls of profanity now became an ancient tongue. My aunt shouted the incantation with her and their voices blended into one shrill chorus of incantation. I felt my crescendo rising again.

I didn't know what else to do to assist in the magic but I remembered one trick that might assist. I imagined my arm pushing inside my grandmother's body, straight into her core. I made a fist of my hand for a moment and then I stopped as Oma and I hung on the edge of our orgasms. I brought my finger and thumb together on my imaginary hand and continued to wait as my crescendo built and built. Both woman were thrashing about in the bubbling black mud and now just a stream of ancient spells; Oma fucking me for all she was worth and my aunt with her hands on both our bodies. I sensed the time was right and it was then that I snapped my imaginary fingers.

My spell combined with theirs and the pots of mud rolled and stirred in large waves as each of the pooling mineral seeps erupted around us! Oma howled and shook through her crescendo and I roared as I sent hot jets of seed up inside her womb hole! Next to us my Tante simply stared skyward as if in a trance! At the outer edge of the mud pots, the clear water pools belched great geysers of water skyward, and across the clouds high above us the heavens erupted in a flash of lightning followed by a roar of thunder! Then there was peace and tranquility.

Oma looked odd as if she had awakened from a dream. She turned her face to me and stared at me soberly. Then she spoke.

Your mother will arrive soon. She will bring her sister. She will also bring your sister and your cousin.

"Mother and Gudrun? Tante Ilse? Cousin Bettina?" I asked, "How do you know this?"

"Oh," Oma answered, "I know this perfectly well. This hot spring has never failed me when I use an Oracle spell and make a magic inside it!"

"How will they get here? How would they know to come here."

"You remember the first day you came here?" my grandmother asked. I nodded at her.

"Well," she said, "you gave me a note that was written in the old tongue from the old religion. I doubt anyone else would be able to decipher it had you been caught traveling here. I wrote a similar note and left it on the table. Your mother Greta will know what is in the note as will your Tante Ilse. They'll be up the mountain as soon as they read it! I used to bring both of those two randy girls up this mountain when your father was first getting acquainted with your mother. Oh we had some merry times here..."

Her voice trailed off happily as Tante Margarite smirked. She knew of those times too and "merry" was only one of many adjectives that could describe the events that took place here when my parents were "courting." Margarite mentioned that we would probably enjoy more of the same provided my mother and Tante Ilse loosened up upon arrival.

"Well," said Oma smiling knowingly, "there is always hope. I don't think your mother will be particularly happy with the fact that I have shown you how to get in touch with your natural magical abilities but there is always hope! I'll think of something!"

When we reached the edge main stream that bisected the mountain meadow, my grandmother had the three of us jump into the stream once more; this time only to remove the mud which had caked to our bodies and hair. She didn't want us tracking mud all through the hut and the hot water from the mineral springs combined with the frigid waters of main stream to create a bath temperature that was pleasant enough so that we could get most of the smelly muck off of us! I went under for several attempts to unsuccessfully remove the last of the mineral glop from my hair until Oma stopped me saying,

"That will do for now Stephan. After we eat I'll grab the washtub from the wall and we'll have a proper scrub with the soap and brush to get the rest of the dirt and mud from us. Now let's see how the beer is coming along shall we?"

We left the stream and walked back to the hut. Inside we found the vat of beer still bubbling away on the stove. Oma fetched a spoon and gave things a taste. She nodded her head and let Tante Margarite sample some of the mushroom brew. My aunt smiled and licked her lips with a nod of agreement. It was ready.

My aunt grabbed me by the hand and conscripted me into the operation. We set about the task of hauling several small wooden kegs and casks up to the kitchen as Oma began to fill them using a funnel and a syphoning hose. Once the brew was emptied from the pot on the stove, my grandmother said another one of her incantations over the kegs assembled on the kitchen floor. Oma then pulled at an iron ring in the floor and lifted up a hatch to the root-cellar beneath us. She had me haul kegs down into the dark cramped cellar to allow them to lager and ferment while she and Tante Margarite prepared supper for us on the woodstove.

We ate a simple supper and then Oma had me haul water from the hot stream as she and Tante Margarite pulled the washtub down of the wall and set it in the grass beside the hut. Several bucket loads later and the tub was full of water that steamed in the cool night air. My grandmother the old witch then went to work, tapping the tub with her wand; causing it to grow and turning up the heat simultaneously.

Soon the three of us were splashing in an extremely large bath tub in lovely hot water and scrubbing one another with a soapy brush as it grew darker and darker on a cool April night on the mountain. A falling star streaked across the sky and we were all looking up for some reason and saw it. Tante Margarite commented that something important had happened. Grandmother nodded soberly,

"It could be something terrible or wonderful," she said scowling at the beautiful night sky as if she was trying to read it, "whatever it is, I'd say it means change." We then went back to scrubbing the last of the muddy glop from the hot spring out from our hair. When the last bit of grit and sediment was gone I started to rise from the bath.

"Wait," Oma said putting a hand on my chest. She pushed me back down to the soapy water saying,

"no need to get out just yet. There is plenty of night and plenty of hot water. The only thing we need is some liquid entertainment of a different sort!" She rose with a wink and stepped from the tub; leaving me and Tante Margarite there in the steam and soap scum. The old witch trotted into the house and in about five minutes, returned with three clay mugs and a small cask of the beer that we'd put down in the cellar.

During the time that Oma was gone, Tante Magarite turned to me in the bath and I felt a hand upon my cock down in the soapy depths. She began frigging me and biting her lip. There was a lewd expression on her face as if she were a beast in heat. The effect of my semen on her after only a couple of days was readily apparent. She was now clearly looking like a woman in her early forties and she had a libido to match!