1 comments/  37295 views/  3 favorites

Wit'cha

By: Gojenngo



Morgana jumped, Spinning around as the door sprang open and bounced back from the wall. She wasn't surprised, she'd felt the power in the air and knew that Aidan was Spinning the elements. She had sensed all five elements but most prevalent were the elements of Air and Fire. Aidan was angry.

"Come here woman." Aidan growled as he stalked into the room.

Despite herself Morgana took a step back, then another as he advanced across the room. Oh yes, he was angry and prepared to take that anger out on her. Morgana had had many an opportunity to see Aidan angry, he resented her presence and made no attempt to hide it. But this, this was something different. Fury raged across his face and there was an edge, a killing edge to him as he advanced on her. It was primal, animalistic and like nothing she'd seen from him before. Aidan always dealt with her at a distance, never offering or asking anything personal. As far as Morgana knew Aidan still did not know where she was born and raised. 

"Aidan...I can't..." Morgana stammered as she realized Aidan was still Spinning the elements.

"You would deny me?" he asked, disbelief evident in his voice. "You are mine, woman, and here to serve."

Morgana took another step back, never realizing that she was backing herself into a corner. She hadn't been with Aidan long, little over a year, and there was much yet she had to teach him. He gave her very little of his time and there was many things basic to being a warlock that he still did not know. One of those was that it is dangerous, for warlock and donia alike, to lay together when one was still Spinning the elements. "Of course not!" Morgana sounded offended, "but you must know..."

"Enough!" Aidan roared and reached out to grab her by the arm. Furious, thoughts of her and all he'd lost still running through his head, he dragged her across the room and pushed her towards the bed.

Morgana stumbled and landed against the edge of the bed, the breath knocked out of her. Instantly, Aidan was upon her pushing her down and kicking her legs apart. Using his hips he secured the lower part of her body against the bed. Her dress and corset laced up the back, she knew better then to bother with petticoats or other undergarments. Not caring he spun Fire to cut through the laces and Air to whip the dress and corset from her body. She was beautiful and even the pain of holding the elements couldn't stop him from appreciating the sight of her. 

Morgana jumped at the touch of Fire against her skin, the feeling of the element was icy cold, despite what it could do. Bare as the day she was born, Morgana could feel Aidan, large and hard pressing against her buttocks. She wasn't ready for him and whimpering she tried to move away. "Please..."

"No!" Aidan didn't wait but thrust himself inside of her. Immediately, he found relief, the power of the five elements starting to dissipate while at the same time tension built. Once, twice, he thrust forward, his fingers digging into her hips, never noticing the bruises he left behind.

Morgana struggled beneath him, he was hurting her, in more ways than one. His fingers tug into the tender skin of her hips while at the same time he tore into her with his cock. But that was nothing, little more than a bother compared to the pain of accepting the power he sent surging into her body. 

It was her role, her responsibility as his donia to take the power into her body, using it for her own work or holding it until he needed it. It was a responsibility, and a honor – if a painful one. Aidan was a warlock and because of that he exuded power the way other people sweat. Someone unused to it could be hurt by it, even a donia suffered but she was trained to deal with it.

Morgana suffered, she suffered every time he thrust into her body, the bed digging into her stomach making it impossible for her to catch her breath. But there was pleasure, a donia could not go through life without learning to take pleasure in the pain. The feel of him pressed up against her back, thrusting between her legs with his hand tangled in her hair infused her with heat.

That heat gathered, pooled somewhere deep within her belly, driving her until she strived for it. The combination of sex and Spinning was almost overwhelming. It brought pleasure to her body, pleasure spiked with pain that threatened to consume her. 

This was new to her. Always before Aidan waited, coming to her only when the pressure got to be too much and he risked hurting others. Never knowing that he hurt her. And even then, their joining had been distant, barely a touch to take the edge off. Never before had she felt flooded with his power. 

Faced for the first time with a warlock deep in the power of the elements Morgana finally understood the warnings. A donia could destroy herself for the wanting of her warlock. Taken too often she could literally burn herself up with the power of it. And if the feeling was anything akin to what she was experiencing now she knew she wouldn't care.

Aidan felt the change. Morgana no longer fought him, no longer struggled beneath him. Instead she moved with him, raising her hips off the bed to meet each of his downward thrusts. And each time he plunged into her, each time he thrust his cock deep inside of her he felt a little more of the elements draining from him. The frantic edge he'd first felt upon entering was gone, replaced by the need to release himself deep within her body. It was a natural need, a human need, one he'd forgotten long ago.

Drawing himself back, Aidan grabbed her hips and surged forward. Morgana tightened beneath him, her body tense and covered with a fine sheen of sweat. Again he thrust forward, this time drawing closer to release. Time and time again he plunged, forcing his way into her body until he felt the final surge of power. It was like a wave of heat, starting beneath his balls and moving out through his shaft. The heat and the pleasure were razor sharp, almost painful as it burst from his body that he threw his head back and roared.

Morgana tensed, deep in the abyss of pleasure she still recognized the signs of Aidan's approaching release. There was nothing she could do but surrender, open herself up to the white hot heat of power, pain and pleasure as she was filled with it. The intensity, the added sensation combined to push her over the edge and with his final thrust came her own release.

Aidan felt Morgana tense beneath him, he knew that the final flash of power was the most painful for her and he wished it wasn't so. He wished there was no need for a donia but had long since learned that without her he could never have a normal life. He didn't understand why she did it, he just knew that she did and he owed her for that. 

He was still hard, still buried deep within her. Carefully he moved, slowly stroking in and out of her body while she shuddered beneath him. He could only hope that her screams were of pleasure and pain.

Finally they lay exhausted, Aidan still pressed against her back. Slowly he stirred, sliding from her body and returning himself to his breeches. Standing over her looking down Aidan saw the first signs of bruising and the heat that flushed her skin, not all of it from pleasure. She was on the point of sleep, her face slack with exhaustion and for the first time Aidan felt affection. Maybe it was the marks, the evidence of what she endured for him, but something inside him softened. It wasn't her fault that he was a warlock; he'd known he was different, sensed the ability in himself long before she ever entered his life. 

Morgan had accepted him when he couldn't accept himself and he'd hated her for it. Her easy acceptance, her willingness to give much and take little, going so far as to share him with another woman when the time came, marked her as everything he resented. And he'd punished her for it, for being who and what she was. To him she was Wit'cha. 

Knowing what he'd done, remembering how he'd treated her, Aidan felt ashamed. Knowing there was nothing he could do to erase the past he made a promise to himself to at least try and make up for it. She was his donia, his responsibility and he would care for her. 

Carefully, Aidan gathered her in his arms, turned down the bed and tucked her in before turning to leave.

"Don't go." Morgana opened her eyes and stared at him. 

How had he missed their deep color, like emeralds catching the sun, framed in dark, long lashes. 

"You've never come to me like that before."

"I know, I'm sorry. There's no excuse for what I did." Aidan ran a hand through his hair, hair that was as black as midnight and framed a face almost too beautiful.

Morgana shook her head. "You don't understand, that's how it is suppose to be."

"I hurt you." This was just one of the things he hated about being a warlock. For thirty years he'd lived his life, never knowing what he was, until the day came when he learned the truth and lost everything.

"Yes, you did, but it was no worse then the pain I felt at having nothing but your distain." Morgana understood, better than Aidan knew. At thirty, a success lord in his own right, Aidan had been set to marry when he learned why he could not. No human female could take a warlock into her body without first sharing him with his donia. A donia had the ability to take his power, his essence, into her body and convert it into something safe, something he could then share with his wife. Only no human wife would understand or accept a man with supernatural powers, let alone share him with another woman. 

It wasn't the same as having a mistress, something more easily accepted among members of the ton. A donia required physical contact and constant closeness with her warlock and that was something no member of the ton would accept, never mind Spinning.

Upon learning of his heritage Aidan and been presented with Morgana. She was there to assist him, to teach him and to take him into her bed. It was just one of the reasons he'd resented her so. She was a constant reminder to him of what he was and what he'd lost. 

"Can I ask what brought this on tonight?" Morgana lay on her side, the thick duvet tucked under her arm and a pillow beneath her head.

Aidan went to sit beside her. Shaking his head, he said, "It doesn't matter, I was angry and took it out on you."

"No, you drew too much of the five elements and needed some place safe to release them. To me, why you did it will always matter but I don't always expect you to share. I'm here to advice you, to help you understand what it means to be a warlock and Wit'cha." Morgana sighed, how to make him understand? "This," a wave of her hand took in the bed and her body beneath the blankets, "is just part of what I am here for. We are bound to each other and will be until one of us leaves this world. It would be best, for both of us, if you learned to use me in any way possible. I was born and raised as a Wit'cha and I can help you to understand the nature of the world you are about to enter."

There was more to it than that. The donia were almost immortal, almost. They lived long lives and Morgana was more than twice Aidan's age, though she looked ten years younger. Morgana, already training as a donia, was selected to be Aidan's donia on the day of his birth by his father. From that moment on her training had been catered to meet Aidan's needs. A Marquee and a member of the House of Lords it was understood that he would need someone able to navigate between the human world and Wit'cha. To that end part of her training included attending a finishing school for girls; Morgana could serve tea with the best of them. But beyond that, she understood the politics of London, the tides of the ton, and the rules of the merchant class.

She was also strong in all five elements. A donia was a witch in her own right, one that gave up the freedom to Spin the elements in exchange for serving. It was seen as an honor, a privilege and one much sought after. One of the first requirements was that a woman could Spin all five elements; Earth, Air, Water, Fire and Spirit. Most witches and warlocks could Spin three of the five. A powerful witch or warlock had mastered all three while it was rare that someone could Spin four of the elements let alone all five. But it was never known until a warlock reached maturity, usually in his thirties, just which of the five he could Spin. A donia, chosen for a particular warlock early had to be able to accept all five to insure she could serve her him. 

Aidan, the strongest warlock in history, could Spin all five elements, something never seen before. His strength was suspected early on, his father having recognized the signs, but it wasn't until he turned thirty-two that the fifth and final element had manifested itself in his Spinning. 

Although his father had suspected, he would be surprised to learn that Aidan had actually started Spinning before his fifteenth birthday. Scared by what he could do and not understanding it Aidan never spoke of it and took great pains to hide it. The witch trials may have been history but man was still superstitious and Aidan had no desire to see the top of a pyre.

It had been a great surprise to learn that not only did his father know what Aidan was, he was a warlock himself. Lord Raven was as dark as his son, still handsome for his years but less powerful. Raised with the responsibility of Wit'cha, Raven had thought to protect Aidan, giving him the chance at a "normal" childhood before burdening him with what he was. It had been a mistake, one Aidan vowed not to repeat when he had children, if he had children.

"Will you stay?" Morgana asked, her voice throaty with sleep.

Aidan gave a small start in surprise, his mind had wandered and he'd almost forgotten Morgana was there. "Not tonight," it was a bit soon for him for that, "but will you breakfast with me in the morning?"

Morgana smiled, her eyes drifting closed. "I'd like that."

"Good." Aidan bent down and brushed a gentle kiss across her forehead. "Thank you."

Almost asleep, Morgana frowned, "For what?"

Aidan smiled, a little bit more of the resentment he'd felt for her melting away. "For being you."

"Hmmm..."

Aidan stood and stared down at her, she was beautiful, strikingly so. How could he have missed that? Black hair framed a face full of exotic features from slightly slanted eyes to a full mouth and angular cheekbones. Her body, buried beneath the covers in the cold winter night, was lush and at his disposal. With a shake of his head he realized that he'd always seen her beauty and it had been one more reason to hate her. He had known that once he came to care for her he'd never be able to accept another woman into his life. There were restrictions, laws and customs governing the way a warlock dealt with his donia and none of them allowed for marriage. It was quite a tangle he'd entered into, one he could see clearly but saw no way to avoid. Perhaps she could shed some light on how they were to best deal with each other as well as the wife he would one day take.

Tired, he turned to the door, a fine thread of Fire funneled into the hearth guaranteeing that the room would remain warm through the night, and was gone. 

Wit'cha Ch. 02



1798, Somewhere North of London

“I need your help.”

Morgana stopped halfway to her chair and stared. Last night still lingered in the foremost region of her brain but she hadn’t expected much to have changed in the day-to-day way Aidan dealt with her. To say he had dealt with her as little as possible was a gross understatement. Before this morning they had never breakfasted together, in fact never shared a meal. When he was home he closeted himself in his study with his steward or other business associates and never gave his direction before he left. The only time he spoke with her was when she begged for his attention and then their meetings were kept curt.

After last night she had expected a certain amount of consideration, if not respect. In the moments before he’d left her Aidan had noticeably thawed but that didn’t change the fact that in his life no one represented Wit’cha more than Morgana. Aidan had refused to restock his estates with servants trained in Wit’cha upon learning of his heritage, even going so far as to distance himself from his family, which left Morgana as the only one available on whom he could unleash his anger. Only Aidan’s anger wasn’t hot rage, it was icy distain. 

Morgana wondered if Aidan would ever understand how hard it had been for her to bear his distance this past year. But if he was to understand he would first need to learn about the bond between a donia and her warlock. It was just one of the things she hoped to teach him.

A donia bonded with her warlock upon their first joining but it was a tenuous bond, at best. They were linked in such a way that she could sense Aidan and he her, but only when in close proximity to one another. But as time went by, and a warlock used his donia more and more, that bond grew. The bond became something more, something hard to explain. The sense they had of each other would grow stronger, more sensitive until they were able to understand how each other was feeling, no matter the distance between them. If one of them hurt, physically or emotionally, the other would know; thoughts would be transmitted and a kind of communication could take place.

But none of that was possible if a warlock kept his donia at a distance.

For a donia, for Morgana, that connection was as necessary to her as breathing. Oh, she wouldn’t die without it, but neither would she truly live. And having lived without it this past year, always knowing that the potential for it was there, had hurt her more than anything Aidan could understand. 

So, with that in mind, she wasn’t about to deny him anything. Taking her seat, she asked, “What can I do?”

Aidan sat at the head of the table, his breakfast untouched except for his coffee and an unfolded newspaper at his elbow. Morgana sat halfway down the table to his left. The morning room was situated at the back of the house overlooking the gardens and was considered informal when compared to the dining room. However, the table still sat eighteen and there was considerable distance between them. Upon entering the room that morning, Morgana had considered seating herself directly across the table. There was nothing inappropriate about it, as the highest ranking female in the room it was her right. Only, one day that place would be occupied by Aidan’s wife and Morgana never wanted to feel displaced. So instead she decided to establish herself somewhere in between, in a place that once her’s no one would be able to usurp.

Aidan made no comment, not that he didn’t notice. He understood the implications, had she sat across from him it would have implied something more of their relationship, an expectation of recognition later on. The places to his immediate left or right were reserved for the highest ranking nobles, when none were present or the affair was informal those most trusted or closest to him would take those places. Clearly Morgana had the potential to one day take her place next to him as a member of the latter category, but not yet.

“The members of Wit’cha meet in five days, I would like you to accompany me.”

Carefully, Morgana set down her fork, took a sip of her coffee and dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her napkin before replying. Wit’cha was made of up the five families in England to which a warlock had been born. There were other such families and organizations around the world but only those in England went by the name Wit’cha. It was an uneasy alliance between the families, born out of necessity to protect both themselves and their territories from outside invasion. Warlocks were powerful men and with such power often times came ambition. Ambition could lead to destruction, or worse, discovery. Wit’cha met annually to coordinate or when there was a problem, from within or without. 

As Aidan’s donia it was Morgana’s right and responsibility to accompany him, to watch and listen and advise based on what she saw. Aidan had already attended this year’s annual meeting, alone, as well as an emergency meeting called when a warlock in France was assassinated. Both times Aidan had outright refused to allow Morgana to accompany him, no matter how she had begged and pleaded. Morgana had been humiliated. What’s worse, Aidan didn’t understand that attending alone indicated discord and was a sign of weakness. It had pained her to let him go but there was nothing she could do. 

To be asked now was an indication that Aidan was ready to accept her presence and her counsel. There was nothing left but to accept. “Of course, to what purpose has the counsel been called?”

“To elect a new Man’urn.”

Morgana nearly dropped her coffee. “Tobias is stepping down?”

Aidan shook his head, not in answer to her question but at himself. Why had he resisted so long? Everything Morgana had done up to this point, from dealing with him to which chair she chose, indicated a strong, intelligent mind, one she was more than ready to use to his benefit. Her acceptance of him and what he was was, and always had been, unconditional. To that she brought the same level of dedication as she did her own role and responsibility. And he knew, despite her thoughts otherwise, that as his donia she would forever be loyal, never giving him a moment’s doubt. Even now, after he had shut her out completely for more than a year she willingly stepped up to his side, ready to do whatever was necessary. There was no emotion from her, no tears or accusations about the way he had treated her. No punishment of withholding favors. She simply accepted what he had done and moved on.

The reason why hit him like a sword between the eyes. She had no choice. Morgana was his, she belonged to him the same way this house was his to do with as he saw fit. She was a person and she was property and that along with everything else had bothered him. At first it had been what she represented, everything he’d lost in his life upon learning what he was. But after a time he’d come to accept it but the feelings of resentment never went away. Every time he saw her Aidan felt a ball of ice form in his gut, something uncomfortable twisting inside until he would do anything to avoid that feeling, including shutting her out.

Oh, he’d know how much it hurt her. His father, upon presenting him with Morgana, had explained the relationship between a warlock and a donia, never coming right out and saying what one really was. She was a slave.

The thought of owning another person, of using her to take care of his needs, was repulsive. But at the same time Aidan knew it was necessary, knew it every time he went to her. But it wasn’t until last night, when he’d unleashed on her, that Aidan realized that Morgana was something more. He still didn’t understand what went on in the Mountain or the training she received. But he understood that she’d made a choice, and in choosing what she was retained her power. Surprised that it had taken him so long to understand, Aidan pushed the thought to the back of his mind and tried to concentrate on the business at hand. “I don’t know if Tobias is stepping down or if he’s been ousted, we won’t know until we get there.”

“Do you know who might replace him?” Morgana frowned, already she knew that there was no way to know. All five families, including Tobias’ would want to see one of their own raised to Man’urn. It was a position of power, if a difficult one. The Man’urn led the five families and acted as ambassador but his biggest responsibility was to monitor the business of Wit’cha. It was a complex web of business and politics, one that could get violent.

Aidan shook his head, “I don’t know, but I feel sorry for the poor bastard.”

Morgana gave a small smile and allowed Aidan to help her to her feet. Together they walked to his study where a warm fire blazed in the hearth. Aidan took his place behind his desk while Morgana arranged herself across from him. She gave a small start to see her writing table as well as her basket of knitting on the floor beside her chair.

Aidan followed her eyes and gave an embarrassed smile. “I thought you might like to work in here today…with me.”

Morgana picked up the portable table and placed in on her lap. “I’d like that,” she didn’t know what else to say. “If you don’t mind, I thought I might write a few letters, see if I can’t get a better idea of what to expect at this meeting.”

Aidan frowned, “Who do you know that you can write?”

Morgana flushed, “I’d rather not say,” she rushed on, “It isn’t that I don’t trust you, it’s just that…well…” Morgana bit her lower lip.

Aidan was intrigued. He’d never seen Morgana flustered, and that’s what she was, not even when he’d reduced her to begging. “What?”

“Well, there are many ways for a donia to look out for and protect her warlock.” Aidan had never thought of her as doing that. “And information can be useful. Most of us have a network of people we trust, in various places, who pass on information. Most of it is rumor or gossip but if I’m careful, and I always am when it comes to you, then I can sort out fact from fiction, at least enough to get a good idea about what’s going on.”

Speechless, Aidan simply stared until Morgana began to fidget. “You think to protect me?” He asked.

Whatever she’d been expecting that wasn’t it. Morgana frowned, “Of course! It’s what I do, I may not be able to take up arms and protect you or even Spin the elements strong enough on my own against most warlocks, but I can make sure you have everything you need before walking into any situation.” Looking slightly offended, Morgana sat up straight. “And, in case you don’t know, I can do the same for you in business matters. I was trained in both.”

Both being human and warlock matters, each had to be approached differently. “I’m sorry, I meant no offense. It’s just that…” Aidan ran a hand through his hair and wondered where to go from there. “I just thought that it was my job to protect you.”

Morgana threw her head back and laughed, the soft, sultry sound surprising Aidan. “Oh, my.” Morgana put and hand to her breast, drawing Aidan’s eye to her more than ample bosom, and sighed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed.” Catching her breath, Morgana looked at him and suddenly grew serious. “Our relationship is fluid, it has to be for us to survive everything we’ll go through and all the changes that will come. Taking care of each other is only a part of that.”

Aidan smiled ruefully, “I’m glad you’re amused.” Turning serious himself, he said, “It seems that there is a lot for me to learn, I shouldn’t have shut you out before.”

Morgana shook her head. “There is no ‘shouldn’t’ with us. What happened, happened and brought us to this point. Perhaps it will prove to be useful later on, though I don’t see how.”

Aidan left it at that, he’d apologized and she’d accepted, there was nothing left but to move on. “Well, write to whom ever you see fit and find out as much as you can, I’m sure whatever you learn will be useful. I’ll trust your judgment.”

Morgana felt pride at hearing those words, it was about time, and set down to her writing. When she finished she conjured a small box inlaid with jade and sent her correspondences, each with a different weave.

Within the next twenty-four hours she’d received responses to all her letters. Morgana had sent four letters and received four responses. Her absence at the previous two meetings prevented her from writing directly to the donia of the four other Wit’cha families. There was a hierarchy of the donia and while she was one of the strongest when it came to Spinning it wasn’t the only criteria used in determining rank. 

Each donia had a staff of her own, except Morgana, usually consisting of an assistant, a lady’s maid, and a Guard. Aidan had forbidden Morgana her a staff and she’d been forced to leave them behind. Ancient donia law demanded it but she hadn’t wanted to press the issue, until now.

Morgana had written to all four donia’s assistants and the prompt response was encouraging. While they didn’t respond in their own writing, the quick response recognized that Morgana was nearly an equal, her presence at the next meeting a mere formality in making it so. 

None of the letters spoke directly to the issue or of confidences shared with their warlocks. However, every single one of them spoke of a “flurry of activity,” “days spent in preparation,” “multiple trips abroad,” and “underlying excitement.” All of which amount to something big in the works. The fact that all four families were involved meant that no single one stood out, it was encouraging as well as frustrating.

But the donia weren’t her only source of information. A favored student while at the Mountain, Morgana kept in close contact with her former teachers and mentors, auspiciously to ask their help in dealing with Aidan. There was no keeping secrets from the Mountain yet everyone expected her to put her best face on her troubles. Being straight forward was a preemptive move, one that surprised most people, usually into revealing more than they would have otherwise.

But this time the Mountain was silent. Oh, she received responses to her inquiries, only nothing useful. Most of her teachers acknowledged the upcoming meeting but none of them offered any speculation. It wasn’t unusual, the Mountain involved itself when and where it wanted to. Silence on this issue indicated that they weren’t ready to become involved but eventually the Mountain would have to come out in support of someone for the position of Man’urn.

Man’urn wasn’t an elected position, it was a position achieved with strength. Strength in Wit’cha was a measure of a warlock’s power and his ability to Spin the elements as well as the kind of support he could line up behind him. There were two large entities within Wit’cha that a warlock needed behind him if he wished to stand as Man’urn. One was the Mountain, an organization of female witches who have dedicated their lives to teaching others. All women had ties to the Mountain whether she studied there as a witch or as a donia. But anyone thinking them simple educators was seriously mistaken. They were more, much, much more. Under the guise of guiding the women once in their care, the Mountain observed and counseled, often times to their benefit.

The second most powerful group in Wit’cha were the Watchers. Men and women charged with the responsibility of ensuring that the rest of the world didn’t find out about Wit’cha. They watched and recorded Wit’cha’s history but they also influenced it. A warlock with either organization firmly behind him stood a good chance of success. A warlock with both could claim Man’urn.

In between getting ready for their departure Morgana passed on the information, apologizing that she couldn’t be more helpful.

“Don’t worry about it.” Morgana sat before the hearth in Aidan’s sitting room while his man Morris finished tying his cravat. “It is actually quiet helpful. Activity with the other four families and silence from both the Mountain and the Watchers tells me that no one warlock has gained favor.”

“If you had to who would you chose?” Morgana couldn’t help but admire the picture Aidan made with his fawn colored breeches, simple white shirt and black coat. She herself was also clothed in a simple day dress, one that hugged her torso gently before falling away at the hips. The bodice was conservative yet it still drew Aidan’s eyes when she entered.

Aidan frowned at Morris’ finished product but let it be. “I can’t say, I haven’t been a member long enough to know. My father taught me as much as he could but never having been very strong in Spinning he never sat at Wit’cha. It’s just another reason why he shouldn’t have kept my heritage from me.”

“He thought he was protecting you.”

Aidan sighed. He’d avoided his father, and the rest of his family as much as possible this past year. Unfortunately, there had been no way to cut them out completely, not that he really wanted to. There was just so much hurt and anger there, so many years spent afraid of what he was and never understanding why he was kept sequestered from the rest of his family. Since learning about what he was, his father had tried to tell him that it had been for Aidan’s sake, a chance for him to have a normal life, that he’d been kept away. But he could never forget that as a boy he had so often thought that it was the family his father was protecting. “I know but he put me and the entire family in a position of weakness. I’m the strongest warlock alive today, and maybe in all of history, yet I don’t understand the basic working of the five families, not even in my own.”

Morgana heard the hurt in his voice and felt for him. “I can help you with some of that. It would have been better if I could have tutored you before the annual meeting this year but…”

“I know and I’m sorry.” Aidan paced in front of the fireplace.

“No need to apologize, that isn’t what I’m after. But the truth of the matter is I could have helped you to at least appear more knowledgeable then you were.” Morgana smoothed her skirts. “You know that appearances are everything and showing up at your first meeting of Wit’cha without me and a full retainer was a sign of weakness. It means that this time we have to make sure they know that despite the…deficiencies in your background you are still the strongest among them. I wonder?” Morgana tilted her head sideways staring off at something unseen.

Aidan stopped pacing and waited, when she didn’t continue he demanded, “What?”

Morgana gave a start. “Oh, what? I’m sorry, I was thinking about something but there’s little chance in that.”

“Dammit! Will you tell me what it was?” Aidan didn’t mean to snap but his patience was wearing thin.

Morgana waved it away with her hand. “Never mind, it was nothing important. What was I saying? Oh, yes, appearances. Everything must be perfect and there are a few things we need to do. First, you entire staff must be Wit’cha trained. I’ve already spoken with the Mistress of the Mountain and requested they be sent over, they arrive this afternoon.”

“And what about my current staff?” Aidan was more than a bit put out. He understood that it was necessary but he didn’t much care for Morgana going about it without talking to him first.

“I’ve found positions for them all; some of them will be going to your other estates while the rest are moving on to serve other families.”

Aidan felt the first stirrings of Spinning. “I’ve had those servants since I was a boy!”

Morgana stood and met his growing anger easily. Already aware of what could happen she started Spinning the combination of Air and Spirit that would protect her and help her to deal with Aidan’s anger. “Yes, I know but you can’t keep ignoring what you are. I’ve also arranged for several instructors to visit, when we return they will begin your lessons, you couldn’t very well expect those servants you grew up with to remain here once they learned what you are. The training will be difficult and you have to have Wit’cha trained servants here to help.”




Wit'cha Ch. 02



“You dare! What gave you the right to interfere? Never mind, you had no right!” Aidan felt all five elements flowing through him, each one a distinct sensation of light, power and energy.

“I have every right!” Morgana matched Aidan’s anger with her own. “As your donia it is my responsibility to see to your house. Besides, those servants will be Wit’cha trained and I am the one that will see to it they serve up to those standards.” Morgana continued Spinning but at the same time tried to take a reading of Aidan. Looking inside herself to that place that connected her and Aidan she could feel his anger but they hadn’t been together long enough for her to understand what had drove him to it so quickly. 

“What else have you done?” Aidan growled. Spinning, at least at the level he was working, required a sort of detached concentration. He could feel every nuance of the elements and all of his senses were heightened but at the same time he felt detached from his own body. Still, somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he was acting irrational.

Morgana unnecessarily smoothed down the front of her skirt while Spinning the elements into herself. It was like creating a buffer between herself and the power she expected to receive from Aidan. “I’ve requested that my personal retainers join me here.”

Aidan felt Fire rushing in, as irrational as he knew it was. Despite his distance he was aware enough to know that his anger had little to do with Morgana, she’d simply given him an outlet. It wasn’t her fault, she had no way of knowing that this place and the people in it were the last remnants of his childhood, of a time when he was free from responsibility. But her ignorance didn’t matter now, all he knew was that she was ripping away the last pieces of his childhood. He couldn’t allow that. “I forbid you to bring them here! I don’t want any more of your kind here!” Aidan took two steps forward and grabbed Morgana by the arms.

The shock of coming into physical contact with Aidan and the elements he was Spinning was like getting hit with cold water. Then the world went crystal clear in an instant before shattering around her. She was sure that if Aidan hadn’t grabbed a hold of her the power of it would have knocked Morgana off her feet.

Aidan felt Morgana go ridged beneath his hands and tried to release her but the power of the elements flowed through him and bound them together. Helpless, Aidan watched as her lips parted, her eyes slid closed and her head fell back. He could feel the threads he’d Spun flowing from him, each one attaching itself to her as if attracted there by a magnet. Once there his threads met with Morgana’s where she Spun them into something new, something he didn’t understand.

Morgana took Aidan’s threads into her body filling herself until she thought she would burst. With her eyes closed she could almost see the threads of Fire whirling within her. Carefully, she wove them with threads of her own until she formed a tight weave that she could carry within her body. 

Filled with the power, Spinning a weave using threads from her and her warlock Morgana felt alive and was reluctant to let go. Only years of training enabled her to release the elements.

Morgana stumbled and collapsed into Aidan’s arms, caught off guard he nearly dropped her. “Morgana?”

“I’m okay.” Morgana struggled to get her feet back beneath her, grateful when Aidan picked her up and carried her into his bedchamber.

“I’m sorry,” Aidan sighed, “it seems like I’ve been saying that to you a lot lately.”

“I know, I wish you wouldn’t. I’m fine, this is what I do.”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you in the first place.” Aidan laid Morgana down on his bed. “You should rest, I’ll see to the new arrivals.”

“Stay with me?” Morgana didn’t want to be alone, she wanted to be close to Aidan. It broke her heart to see him struggle. One minute he was angry, not wanting to accept the changes that were necessary and the next he was willing to take those same changes in hand. He hurt and she understood why but there was nothing to be done for it. The only thing she could do was push him through it. The sooner he accepted what he was and realized that there was no changing it the sooner they could get on with it. Whether Aidan knew it or not this was the easiest time in his life. The next few years establishing himself within the business of Wit’cha was going to be harder then anything else he’d ever experienced.

Aidan hesitated a moment before climbing onto the bed beside Morgana. Curling up behind her spoon fashion he wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her close, tucking her head beneath his chin. Morgana gave a small sigh of contentment and within minutes was fast asleep.

Sometime later Morgana woke, sleepily she tried pushing the covers off. She was so damn hot! It didn’t take long for her to remember that Aidan had laid her out on top of the bed. She wasn’t beneath the covers, in fact she could feel cool air brushing against the exposed skin of her hip. As awareness dawned Morgana felt Aidan slide between her thighs from behind, the smooth skin of his shaft soft against her buttocks. With a small moan of pleasure she pressed herself against him.

Aidan nuzzled the side of her neck and gently cupped her breast in the palm of his hand, all the while sliding back and forth between her legs. Slowly, oh so slowly, he slid forward, never allowing himself to enter her. 

Morgana arched her back and reached over her shoulder, grasping the back of Aidan’s head in her hand. Her fingers slid through his thick hair as she turned her mouth to him for a kiss. His movements never changed. Gently, he covered her lips with his mouth, his tongue sliding between her lips, mimicking the movements of his hips as his slid in and out of her mouth. Morgana gave a moan of pure pleasure and frustration. In response, Aidan rolled her over so that she lay flat on her stomach. With his hips he nudged her thighs apart, never allowing her to raise up on to her knees, and slid inside of her. They touched, from tip to toe their bodies pressed together back to front, as Aidan rocked his hips back and forth, never entering her completely. 

The position prevented deep penetration and Morgana felt frustration build as she tried to take more of Aidan into her body. Incomplete, she shifted and tried to roll over beneath him.

Aidan chuckled, a sound of pure male satisfaction, and reaching up threaded his hands in hers, holding them up over her head. The slow slide of his cock between her legs never faltered, never changed pace as he pushed her up the hill to completion inch by inch.

Despite his shallow strokes, or maybe because of them, Morgana felt the first stirrings of pleasure. First, her body began to tingle, as if every nerve in her body was centered between her legs. Finally the tingling became a tightening, her muscles contracting slowly around Aidan as he entered her, trying to hold on to him. Morgana was shaking, her breath coming in quiet pants as she moved higher and higher until finally the world chattered and pleasure rained down.

Aidan felt her tightening beneath him, she’d finally surrendered, understanding that he wouldn’t be rushed, and was rewarded. Carefully, he used his cock to stroke the inside of her body, never varying the pace no matter how the desire to pound her grew. It was a struggle, part of him wanted to ravish her, wanted to feel himself pounding against her flesh, marking her as his. But the other part of him wanted to take the time, to slowly bring her to pleasure, making sure she enjoyed every moment and ringing every ounce of it out of her.

He could feel her trembling, her hands in his gripped almost painfully as she wound tighter and tighter. He knew that one stroke, fast and hard, would send her shooting, but that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted her to give over, to feel her release in a long, soft sigh. His own body dripped sweat and he knew he couldn’t take much more. A few more strokes, almost teasing the inside of her passage, and he let go.

Morgana felt the first surge from Aidan and exploded. Warmth rushed through her, wave of heat upon heat upon heat flooded her and sent her soaring. For several seconds all she could do was hold on to his hands as her body broke beneath him. Aidan felt a flush of warmth that wasn’t his and surged forward. Morgana’s body clamped down hard around him and held him tight as the two of them found their release together. In the last moments he collapsed, not caring if he smothered her and the world went black.

Morgana slowly came back to herself and realized that Aidan was no longer pressed against her back. Turning her head she saw that he lay beside her, his eyes closed and breathing slow and regular. Carefully, she got up and smoothed her skirts back down around her legs. Already she could feel him seeping from her body to smear between her legs.

Watching him sleep she couldn’t help thinking. It wasn’t supposed to be like that, not between a warlock and a donia. She had accepted his threads and Spun a weave, she should have left it at that. What they shared after was what he would have given to his wife, would one day give to her. Morgana never should have accepted such a gift.

Knowing it could never be like that again, and already regretting it, Morgan made her way back to her rooms. Letting herself into her sitting room she curled up in the window seat and waited for dawn to come.

To Be Continued



Wit'cha Ch. 03



1789, Somewhere North of London

Dawn came slowly, the sky lightening by small degrees. From black to blue, to a purple bruise that matched her mood. It wasn’t until the first rays turned the sky to orange that Morgana could make herself move. 

She’d spent the night lost, alone in a world of warm memories. She’d given herself this one night, the few short hours spent remembering and reliving her last moments with Aidan. It was all she would have, all she could allow herself to have. From this moment forward she’d have to distance herself, careful to keep their relationship where it should be.

But that time was over, dead with the dawn. Carefully, each movement deliberate, Morgana rose. From the window seat she moved into her dressing room and for the first time recognized the chill in the room. Her body was cold, stiff and sore from sitting the night thru. Morgana welcomed the pain, it was a sign that she was alive and life, she reminded herself, was a gift.

Once inside her dressing room she slipped out of her soiled dress and sponged herself off. It would have been a simple matter to conjure up a warm bath, to soak away the aches and pains and to dress with the help of a few Weaves. But this morning she found comfort in performing the tasks herself.

She worked quietly, her mind focused on each individual task, avoiding thoughts of the day to come. First, she slipped on her undergarments, carefully tying her silk stockings in place. Next, her chemise and corset, using a small thread of air to tighten the lacings. Finally, a dark green gown of velvet with a split skirt settled over a fine silk under-dress of sheer gold. Slippers to match completed the outfit.

As each layer settled around her, Morgana could feel her resolve strengthening. She couldn’t stay depressed for long, it wasn’t in her nature. Besides, the day promised to be a challenging one.

The sound of carriage wheels rolling over gravel reached Morgana as she finished dressing her hair. Even with the help of the elements her long locks were too much for her to handle on her own. Knowing her weaknesses, Morgana simply piled the mass of curls on the top of her head and left them to spill down around her face. The face itself wasn’t a bad one, some would even say beautiful, but it wasn’t going to help her much with what was to come.

Gathering herself, and her courage, Morgana slipped from her rooms and walked quickly down the hall. Not bothering to wait for the announcement, Morgana headed for the front door, giving the doorman a slight nod as he stepped from the shadows to open the door. Gathering her skirts, she trotted down the stairs and stood waiting.

The carriage, a lovely conveyance done in dark wood and black lacquer, rolled to a stop before Morgana, a thin Weave of Air kept the dust from settling on her skirts. Morgana, her belly burning with nerves, tightened her grip on her skirt before realizing what she was doing. Consciously, she let go and smoothed the wrinkles out of the fine material.

John Coachman applied the break, wrapped the reins around the handle and hopped down. With a tip of his hat to Morgana, he opened the carriage door, lowered the steps and held out his hand. There was a brief pause before it was grasped by an amazingly small, white gloved hand.

Morgana smiled and stepped forward. “Annie! It’s so good to see you again.”

“Oh, my dear, you don’t know how happy I am to see you. And not the worse for wear.”

Morgana smiled her thanks to John and took the older woman’s hand. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement behind the carriage and for the first time spotted the lone rider. It was obvious that he had heard Annie’s words of welcome and Morgana felt the heat rushing to her face. Careful to keep her eyes adverted she peered into the carriage. “Did Rachel come?”

Annie frowned up at her young charge. No matter Morgana’s age she would always be the young one Annie swaddled as a babe. “Of course, we all came, just like you asked.”

Morgana flinched at her old nurse’s words, she hadn’t exactly asked Annie and the others to attend her here, she’d assumed. “Yes, well, where is she?”

“Here I am,” Rachel called as she lowered herself from the carriage.

“Rachel?” Morgana’s eyes went wide at her first glance of her old friend. “What happened?”

Rachel, a small, dark haired pixie, raised one eyes brow and rested her hand on her obviously pregnant belly.

Morgana flushed. “Well…I didn’t mean…it’s obvious that…” Morgana forced herself to stop rambling. A quick look told her that the lone rider still sat atop his mount staring straight ahead. Clearing her throat, Morgana tried again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were expecting.”

“We weren’t expecting when you left, a lot has happened in a year.” Rachel pointedly looked over her shoulder at the man atop the horse and back to her friend. “Charles sends his love.”

“I’m surprised Charles sent you.” Charles was Rachel’s husband and very protective of his wife.

Rachel rubbed at her back, stiff from the time in the carriage. “He more than anyone knows my place is with you. Besides, he’ll come when the babe does.”

Morgana could see that her friend and nurse maid were both tired. “Come inside, I’ve had room made ready for all of you.” For the first time she addressed the rider directly, “You can stable your mount, there’s fair for you to break your fast and I’m sure you’d like to clean up after your journey.”

Without a word, the rider dismounted and followed as John Coachman led the team of four towards the stables. “Give him time.” 

Morgana turned at the sound of her voice and found Annie watching her closely. “He’s angry.”

Annie snorted, “Of course he is, and you knew he would be.”

“Yes, but there was nothing to be done about it,” Morgana felt the need to defend herself as she led Annie up the stairs, Rachel was already inside. 

“Do you regret your decision?” Annie asked.

Morgana frowned as she considered. “I regret that such a decision had to be made.”

Annie nodded her understanding and followed Morgana into the house. Inside, a Mountain trained servant bowed deep at the waist before turning to escort them to their rooms. Morgana sighed at the simple pleasure of a well trained servant, one well aware of the nature of the people he served. It was the first sign of things to come, of the changes wrought by the change in her relationship with Aidan.

Annie and Rachel were both quickly settled, Rachel down for a nap and Annie with her knitting. While Morgana felt relief at their arrival there was still one guest yet to see to.

Back in her room, Morgana rang the bell-pull. Within minutes a maid arrived and received her message along with a fine Spun thread of Spirit. Carefully arranging her skirts, Morgana sat down to wait. She didn’t have to wait long.

Morgana jumped slightly as the door to her sitting room burst open and slammed against the wall. Absently, she thought about having the wall padded before permanent damage could be done.

“How dare you?!”

Morgana raised a delicate eyebrow in question but didn’t rise from her seat.

“After what you did you would use a Compulsion spell on me?” He was angry, the need to see her just starting to fade as his eyes fell on her seated form. For the barest of moments he stood inside the door, drinking in the site of her. Despite his most reverend wish, he knew that the Compulsion spell wasn’t the only cause of his desire.

“How dare I?” Morgana spoke as if confused. Folding her hands in her lap, she asked, “It wasn’t a Compulsion spell but only a slight thread of Spirit sent to ensure your arrival. How was I supposed to know if you would come.”

Jaux sneered, allowing his anger to override his passion, feeding it so as to protect himself. “You summoned, we came.”

Morgana allowed her eyes to narrow at the anger and resentment she heard in his voice. “You forget yourself, you serve at my pleasure.” They were cruel words, and not entirely true.

There was a long, tense moment of silence before Jaux bowed, offering her a formal leg, sarcasm evident in every line of his lean body. He was a handsome man of thirty with long dark hair tied back in a leather thong. His body, warrior wrought and iron hard, was wide through the shoulders, thick through the chest and muscular through the arms. His waist was narrow and his legs long. Such was his body, a body that was as much weapon as it was man. “My apologies, milady. I should thank you for conjuring us up to that charming little inn, the rats were of the finest quality, better then the customers. And the carriage and mount were most comfortable.”

Morgana’s fear and apprehension at seeing Jaux again turned into a slow, smoldering anger. She’d known when sending her summons that to ask her Guard to arrive in secret, appearing in a unknown forest behind a forgotten inn instead of coming directly to the manor, was an insult. But not all of Aidan’s servants had been replaced with servants from the Mountain and she couldn’t risk the sudden appearance of a warrior. At the same time, she shouldn’t have to explain herself, especially not to Jaux. He knew her better than that, better then anyone, and should know that only necessity would force her to treat him so.

“Well,” Morgana finally stood and, shaking out her skirts, strolled to the widow. With her back to the room, she said, “I hope your current accommodations are more to your liking. If not, I can have another room prepared and your things moved.”

Jaux watched the angry lines of her back and stepped further into the room, kicking the door closed behind him. He wanted to tell her it didn’t matter, to hold her and know for himself that she was as well as she appeared. But he didn’t, he couldn’t. There was still too much hurt and anger for him to allow himself the luxury. “The accommodations are excellent, it would seem you’ve done well for yourself.”

Morgana whirled around. “What’s that suppose to mean?”

Jaux shrugged, “It would seem you were right to leave us behind, it’s obvious you used the time alone with your warlock to position yourself well. From the look of things you have a free hand with the house. Nothing like being the lady of the manor, is there?”

Morgana stumbled back from his words as if sustaining a physical blow. “Is that what you think?”

“I think you knew exactly what you were doing when you left and made sure we couldn’t follow.” 

“Get out! Get out before I send you back to that god forsaken mountain and leave you there to rot!” Morgana took a threatening step forward, her powers more than a match for Jaux’s physical strength.

Jaux chuckled without humor. “I don’t think so, I serve at your pleasure, remember?” Moving so quick as to be almost blind to the eye, Jaux flew across the room and seized Morgana by her upper arms. Without breaking stride he pushed her back against the wall, his mouth crashing down upon her. Instantly her taste flooded his senses, the warmth of her mouth inviting him to delve deeper. Hungrily, he saturated himself, his tongue sliding between her lips.

Morgana caught her breath as heat and desire broke against her in waves. This was Jaux, but unlike anything she’d ever known before. Where once he’d been a soft and gentle lover now stood a demanding man, one which ravished her mouth and body with the barest touch. He claimed her, branded and marked her with his touch. 

Before she knew it, before she could think straight, Morgana found herself devoid of all clothing, her back still pressed firmly against the wall as Jaux pulled her thighs wide and wrapped them around his hips. With one quick thrust he impaled her on his shaft, a low moan of pleasure escaping from between his clenched lips.

Dazed, Morgana wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight. It was all she could do to hold her own on this ride. He was ruthless, relentless in his pursuit of pleasure, both his and her’s. Again and again, he drove himself between her legs, thrusting himself deep into her body. His hands, no longer needed to hold her legs, slid up to cup her buttocks where they clenched spasmodically at her tender flesh.

Shifting slightly, Jaux lowered his head and took one exposed nipple into his mouth. Suckling hard, he nipped and pulled on the tender flesh until Morgana cried out, her body clamping down around him before exploding in a shower of warmth, wetness and relief.

Still he rode her, his body bruising her, punishing for leaving, for making him want her despite the pain and anger. Morgana, spent and boneless, surrendered, offering herself up to his anger. It was only then, when he felt her soften beneath him, that Jaux found his own release. With his head thrown back, Jaux let go with a cry of pleasure and pain, anger and joy, and love and hate.

****

Morgana was slow to come back to herself. Never before had there been such raw passion between Jaux and herself. Always before it had been tender, different from what she could expect from her warlock. But this, this was something new, something to be considered during a private moment alone. But for now there were practical matters to attend to.

Jaux had already withdrawn himself from her body and lowered them both to the floor. Morgana, for perhaps the first time truly satisfied, turned her head and found him watching her. Without a word he unfolded his body and rose gracefully to gathered his clothes. Turning, he strolled from the room, stopping only when his hand was on the door. “If you ever leave like that again I will break the blood bond that binds us.”

Morgana sat staring, her mouth open in surprise, as Jaux left, closing the door behind him. Her mind rebelled. A donia was bound to her Guard through the shedding of blood, only when they’d both bled for the other was their binding at its strongest. To break that bond meant the death of one of them. 

Jaux had bled for her during their first battle together. She’d been young, inexperience but eager, fighting along side her Guard when he took a dagger in the back. It was a freak accident, the would-be assassin should never have been able to get that close. Morgana, suddenly afraid, had stood over Jaux protecting him as she fought. It was afterwards, after she’d healed his wounds with Earth and Spirit, that he’d taken her virginity, sealing their bond with her blood.

Unlike her link to Aidan, Morgana couldn’t sense what went on with Jaux. She had to rely on her human instincts to help guide her in her relationship with her Guard. Jaux, as she’d been warned early on, was not an easy man to deal with. He continually tested her, pushed her and forced her to use her mind and not just her magic. It was his responsibility as her Guard and just one of the many reasons she loved him.

It was a complicated life she led, made more so with the coming meeting of Wit’cha. There was Aidan to contend with, and the web that was and would be their relationship. It was a relationship that would evolve and change over time. At the same time, Morgana had responsibilities to herself, to the Mountain and to Wit’cha. Finally, there was Jaux. While she was glad to have him here, to once again know that she could call him to her side, she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when the two men in her life met for the first time.

“Annie!” It was ridiculous to want her nursemaid, but there it was.

“Oh dear, I see you and Jaux ran into each other.” Annie’s sudden appearance in the sitting room wasn’t unexpected. The old woman had powers of her own, not enough to join the ranks of donia or make a match as a witch but enough to deal with a small babe with the promise to be the most powerful donia and see her into womanhood. Such had been Annie’s role, one she still took seriously despite Morgana having passed childhood some time ago.

Morgana stood and with a wave of her hand was fully dressed once more. “I need your help.”

“It would seem you’ve done alright for yourself.”

Morgana’s eyes narrowed. “That’s the second time someone said that to me.”

Annie didn’t miss the ice in her young charge’s voice. Nodding, she said, “Yes, I suppose he would see it that way. Not being tied to you the way us others are he can’t know the pain you’ve suffered this past year.”

“Nor will he. I want Jaux and Aidan to meet, and yes, measure each other up. If Jaux hears how Aidan has behaved this past year he’s more likely to strike first, with his sword, and not bother with the questions.”

Annie moved around the room, picking up discarded clothes. “I suspect you’re right about that. The two of them will strut around each other, measure their manhood and decide which one of them is the dominant male.”

“Annie!” Morgana wasn’t shocked or surprised by her nursemaid’s blunt words. They were all true, but the old woman didn’t have to take such pleasure in knowing, and saying, it. With a small sigh of frustration Morgana vanished the soiled clothes. “Will you sit down?! I can clean up after myself, and what I don’t do the maid will take care of.”

Annie stopped where she stood and glared. “Don’t you dare leave your personal things behind! Especially anything touched with your…essence, it could be used…”

“I know.” Morgana said, “You don’t have to worry about it. Aidan’s servants wouldn’t know what to do with it and those trained at the Mountain are loyal, to me if not to Aidan.”

“Servants could be bought and those uneducated men and women wouldn’t care why someone wanted your under-things.”

Morgana tilted her head slightly and watched as Annie settled herself down on the couch before the fire.

Annie caught Morgana watching her. “What?”

Morgana shook her head, soft curls floating around her face. “Nothing, it’s just…this is why I called you. I mean, once Aidan accepted me,” Morgana waived that topic aside and went on, “but more than anything I need your counsel.”

“Oh, phewe, I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.”

Morgana moved around the room and knelt at Annie’s feet. “No, you’re not, but it won’t always be that way. I need you, and Rachel, for what is to come.”

“Wit’cha?”

“Yes, and the next Man’urn,” Morgana said.

Annie considered the young woman sitting next to her through narrowed eyes. “You already know who it is going to be.” It wasn’t a question but a statement, one Annie already knew to be true.

Morgana looked away from that penetrating gaze. “I have some ideas, nothing I’ve been able to confirm.”

Annie nodded and was suddenly knitting. “Well then, we should get ready. When do we go?”

****

Jaux stalked down the hall leading away from Morgana’s suite of rooms. While he’d meant it at the time, she had done well, he knew that Morgana had nothing more than she deserved. She was one of the strongest donia ever to train at the Mountain, perhaps in history and a intelligent woman in her own right. The fact that this warlock had set her up in his home was only right. As for the man, Jaux would just have to see for himself what manner of man Aidan was.

And it looks like he was about to get the chance. 

Aidan turned the corner and glared. Coming towards him was a strange man, unusually large and if Aidan wasn’t mistaken, wearing a sword on his back. As he drew closer, Aidan recognized Jaux, Morgana’s guard, from her description. He wasn’t happy having Wit’cha trained servants in his home and the sudden appearance of this…warrior…only bolstered his bias. What did Morgana need with this man?

As the two men approached each other they slowed until they stood no more than a sword’s length apart. Jaux, recognizing he was in the other man’s home and thus at a disadvantage, spoke first. “You’re Morgana’s warlock.”

Aidan raised an eyebrow at such a crude introduction. “I am. Am I to presume you’re her servant, summoned from the Mountain?”




Wit'cha Ch. 03



Jaux didn’t respond to the barb. It was one thing to hear Morgana reduce him to such a state, that hurt. But he knew that this man sought only to goad him. Jaux gave the man an unfriendly smile and bowed at the waist. “I am.”

Aidan started to step forward, to continue on his way down the hall only to jerk back in surprise. A small frown of confusion marked his forehead as he stepped forward again, this time moving slowly, and flared his nostrils. There! It was clear, Morgana’s scent rode heavy on the air surrounding this man. 

There was only one thing that caught Morgana’s scent that strongly. 

Aidan felt rage welling up from deep inside him, rushing towards the surface and breaking out along his skin. Only this rage was cold, freezing the element of Water into flames of ice and sending them dancing along his skin.

Jaux, not immune to magic, sensed the Power of the Elements rising around him and shifted. It was a subtle, easily missed, redistribution of his weight and a widening of his stance. Aidan missed it, missed noticing that even now Jaux stood ready for battle.

Oblivious to his own danger, Aidan brushed past Jaux with a mumbled “excuse me” and walked quickly down the hall.

Jaux watched over his shoulder until the man disappeared around a corner. Only then did he relax. Not sure what had caused the sudden tension, Jaux turned and headed towards his room. He was hungry, still covered in dust from his travels and in need of a bath.

Morgana jumped and half started to rise from her place at Annie’s side when the door to her room was thrown open. Only this time the door didn’t bounce off the wall behind it, it went flying across the room.

Instinctively, Morgana wrapped Annie and herself in a Weave of Spirit and Air, protecting them both from whatever danger was about to walk through the door. The pounding of her heart didn’t subside when she saw Aidan walking through the debris.

Standing just inside her suite, Aidan felt himself shaking with rage and was hard pressed to keep from lashing out at the small woman sitting before him. “What the hell is going on here?!”

Slowly, Morgana stood and with her hands hidden behind her skirt gave Annie a subtle sign to disappear. Annie, with a decisive snort, winked out of existence. It was a testament to how angry Aidan was that he didn’t notice the disappearance of the old woman. In fact, Morgana hadn’t seen Aidan this angry since she first arrived.

Slowly, Aidan stocked her, literally prowling around the room in ever tightening circles. “What is he to you?” Aidan leaned in close and inhaled the scent of her hair. “I could smell you on him, a scent your skin releases only in the heat of passion.”

Morgana gripped her skirts but forced herself to meet his angry eyes. “Jaux is my Guard, he’s served me for years, we were trained together.”

“Served you? Or is that serviced you?” Aidan sneered. “How long have you been fucking him?”

Morgana’s eyes narrowed. “That is none of your business.”

“The hell it isn’t! This is my house, everything that goes on in it is my business.” Aidan stopped stalking her and stared at Morgana, after a tense moment he threw his head back and laughed. “Of course! I was so blind! That’s why you wanted him here and why you were so angry when I denied you your staff. How could I have been so stupid?!”

Sadly, Morgana shook her head. “It wasn’t like that.”

“No? You mean you don’t spread your legs for every man you meet?” Aidan barely had time to finish speaking before he found himself flying through the air and crashing into the wall. Braced for impact it took him a minute to realize that he was still suspended, several feet above the ground. Looking down he found Morgana glaring up at him.

“Up until now I’ve been gentle with you but you go too far. You refuse to learn about me, my role in your life or Wit’cha yet stand there and cast judgment. Well, I won’t stand for it.” 

Aidan opened his mouth to argue and nearly choked when a gag of air was unceremoniously shoved between his lips.

“No, you had your say, now it’s time you listen.” Morgana took a deep breath and let it out, along with her anger. Now was not the time for it. “You weren’t raised in Wit’cha and because of that I’ve made certain allowances.” Morgana started pacing as she thought back over the past year. “To start with, a donia’s staff is as important to her warlock as it is to her. There are things I need, things that must be done that you can’t do. There are times when I need help and you’re not there, besides which, it just isn’t your responsibility. For the most part these needs are minor, another woman to talk to, like Rachel or a wise woman for council, like Annie. These are women that had a direct hand in raising me or were trained right along side me, always knowing that they would follow me once I joined you. It’s a bond, one you failed to honor when you refused to allow them into your home.”

Without stopping to think, Morgana lowered Aidan to the floor but didn’t release his bonds or gag. “But a donia has more important needs, needs that any human has only we’re forbidden them. There’s the need to love and be loved, to have a family and share in a home.” Morgana gave a delicate shrug of her shoulders and undid the Weave holding Aidan in place. “Jaux loves me and Rachel and Annie are my family, I won’t let you take that away from me again.”

Aidan stretched his jaw, realizing that his anger had dimmed while listening to Morgana. In it’s place there was only confusion. “I can understand your need for people but over time couldn’t I be all those things to you?” In that moment, Aidan realized that he’d already come to care for her. “I thought we shared something along those lines last night.”

Morgana nodded but stepped away from Aidan. “We did, and it was wrong.”

His anger back, he asked, “How can you say that?”

“Because it’s true! What we shared last night was the after effects of spent Power. There was no magic in it, it was simply and beautifully love making.”

“So what’s the problem?” Aidan could feel his chest tightening as he watched Morgana slipping away.

“Those moments, the ability to make love without Power, without calling the Elements and without loosing control are reserved for your wife!” Morgana chocked back a sob. 

“But I’m not married, why can’t I share those moments with you?” Aidan shouted, reaching out and trying to touch her. It nearly unmanned him when she moved away.

“And what happens when you do marry? Will you divide those moments between me and your wife? Would you ask that both of us abandon our known roles and assume something different? In doing so you would destroy both of us and deprive yourself of the best of what we both have to offer. I can give you so much as your donia and one day there will be a woman in your life who was raised for the role of your wife, but it won’t be me.”

“Why not?” Aidan wasn’t being obtuse, he seriously didn’t understand.

“Because it’s forbidden, a donia and a warlock are powers of opposites, what would result of such a union would be too dangerous for Wit’cha to allow.” Morgana knew, even if Aidan didn’t, what would happen. Any such union would lead to their destruction, a destruction sanctioned by the governing members of Wit’cha. There was a time in their history when warlocks were free to marry and mate with any woman of their choosing, the results had been disastrous and almost led to the destruction of Wit’cha.

“How can they stop us?”

Morgana looked at Aidan sadly. She knew that after this moment, nothing between them would ever be the same. “They already have. I was sterilized at birth, I can’t have children.”

Aidan was shocked speechless, the reality of what she was saying finally sinking in. Once again his life and his future was being dictated by people and forces unknown. Here stood the most beautiful woman he’d ever know. Not just physically but in her heart and he was to be denied a life with her. Delegated to only half measures, never knowing what it would be like to share the joy of life with her.

“I’m sorry.”

Her whispered apology broke through to Aidan and he realized he’d been standing there staring for some time. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. You were right.” And her confused look Aidan explained. “One as uneducated as me has no room to judge, please, accept my apology.”

“Of course, will you sit?”

Aidan shook his head, “No, I should be going. There is much to do before we leave for London.”

Morgana watched him walk to the door. “Aidan?” Aidan turned and waited for her to continue. “You could have loved me?”

Aidan looked down at her and smiled. “I already did.” Past tense.



Witchcraft



© Orion's Stories

Dr. Michelle Crockett re-examined her notes one more time, trying to discover the failure of her department. The department was called Temporal physics and investigations and dealt in time travel. Not the time travel in the normal since, but on the psionic level. It would allow someone to see history unfold through the eyes of someone living during that time.

Their first test was a failure due to the death of her lab assistant Mark. Now she had to find out what happed that went so wrong. Everything seemed to work so well with the catastrophe happening without warning. But now if she could not find the answer they were going to terminate the entire project. Michelle would not allow that to happen even if it meant strapping herself into the chair and going in. And she would of course, to find the failure that caused a death. If for no other reason than to prove that the equipment was truly safe. Finally giving up in disgust Dr. Crockett entered the test arena.

Everything was set to automatic as she slid into the large padded chair. Everyone else had gone home hours before, but Michelle reclined the chair to place her head directly between the psionic receptors. On the arm of the chair directly under her fingers was a large red stop button. This allowed the observer to stop the test at any time.

Padded clamps lifted from the chair circling her wrists, ankles, waist, and chest. For the experiment to work the subject had to remain very still. Moving could disrupt the test and there was no telling what it would do to the subject.

The temporal scanners have already singled out a young woman's psionic trail, and the computers were setting up the connection. The time was the mid 1800's... the target area was near Salem Mass, North American region. The girl was Constance Reilly, there was an electronic hum then blackness...

Slowly sight returned to her. She saw log homes and rough hewed lumber everywhere. A crowd gathered around wearing clothing as ancient as the buildings looked. I made it Michelle thought, I can see what she is seeing. Then she noticed the sounds of the angry mob.

But Michelle was not concerned about how they sounded right now. In all of her research they never thought they would also pick up sounds. But now she was feeing other things as well. The hot sun overhead, the warm breeze, and the smell of rich vegetation near by.

Wait this is to much. The psionic invasion went to deep. Michelle turned her head and her point of view also changed. She looked up seeing a wonderfully clear blue sky then back to the crowd. No! I can't be in control. I should only be an observer!!!

Ouch! Something hurt her foot. Or was it Constance's foot that hurt? Glancing down Michelle saw that her host was indeed barefoot and was walking on gravel. She also saw that her dress hung from her like rags and iron bands circled her ankles and were connected by chain.

Michelle / Constance lifted her hands and saw heavy iron cuffs and chains there as well. She now recognised the person before her. He was the town constable and he was pulling her along with a chain leash. Michelle as Constance found herself being lead to a pillory in the center of town. She stood numbly as the chains were removed from her wrists only to have her head and wrists placed through the hoops of the stocks. The top half of the stocks was closed trapping the young girl with in.

The post supporting the pillory was uncomfortably tall for Constance forcing her to tip toe to keep from choking. The town magistrate stepped forward lifting her head by the hair. Pulling her head up harshly.

Constance Reilly, he said, you are accused of being a witch.

No!!!! Michelle screamed, as she struggled against the pillory. She never heard the rest of the magistrates words over the crowds shouting. Her dress was grabbed from behind and the remaining rags were torn from her.

There was a swish and a burning pain like lightening. Whoosh, snap, it struck again. It was the strike of a whip. Not the five lashed one carried by the magistrate, but a single strap. It was the kind used in guiding domesticated animals, with eighteen feet of braided leather.

Mercifully Constance fainted from the pain never feeling the rest of the twenty strokes. The horrifying part was that Michelle experienced every stroke and was powerless to stop it.

Is this what happened to Mark, she wondered? If she herself was feeling the whip could he have died when his host died?

He was observing Abraham Lincoln at the Ford theater on the night of the assassination. Was he connected when the bullet killed the former president? Also if for now I am this girl and sharing everything so totally can that also happen to me??????

Michelle panicked, struggling against the chairs restraining cuffs. The stop button forgotten for now as she fought wildly.

Consciousness slowly returned to Constance. She was still locked within the stocks with chains on her feet, the ruined remains of her dress on the ground around her. Her tortured back burnt like fire from the whipping and the crowd had moved off.

Some children played nearby. She tried to beg water from them but her mouth would not form words. An iron bit wrapped in raw-hide had been placed into her mouth while unconscious and secured behind her head. She could do little but whimper in misery as the straps securing the bit were well out of her limited reach.

The children noticed her renewed struggles and came over circling her. Constance was only eighteen and only slightly older than some of them. She had run and played with them only last week. Several of the younger ones took up switches and began to sting her bare legs and backside. Just as she herself had done time and again to someone in her position.

The oldest boy stood before her enjoying her torment, but Constance / Michelle could see little except for his polished boots. He was Tibias, and three months her junior. He had also tried to court her but her family had refused every time.

Turning her head to see him Constance saw his smile and hung her head in shame. She twisted wildly trying to hide from the switches being used on her crying in misery.

Tibias leaned in close to her ear, you should never have refused me, he whispered. Then he turned on his heel and stomped off.

Constance was in torment and failed to understand what he meant. But the observer Michelle caught the significance of his statement.

Oh how Michelle wanted to scream and tell him just what she thought of him. The bastard did this to her just because she spurned his advances. It was a good thing that the raw-hide covered bit prevented her from talk. Without it she would have screamed out a string of obscenities, some of which had not been invented yet!!!

Be off with ye little heathens, a deep voice bellowed, lest she hexes the lot of you. The children screamed and ran off dropping their switches as they ran.

Constance collapsed as she was released from the stocks. The constable lifted her to her feet, placing the iron shackles back on her wrists.

Michelle / Constance found herself being lead to a block house used for keeping prisoners. She had to be carried up the stairs as she was too weak to climb. This was a place she feared even more than the stocks. This room never failed to get a confession.

A large wooden cross lay on the floor and she was laid atop of it. Her arms were pulled wide and iron bands were placed around her wrists and bolted together securing them to the cross. More bands were placed around her ankles and bolted in place as well as another at her waist.

The would be witch could not move at all as two halves of a metal band were wrapped around her head and bolted together. As the bolt tightened Constance felt the pressure on her skull. If they had chosen Constance was sure that the band could crush her skull. The pain was terrible and they stopped before killing her.

There were two men hidden in the shadows waiting for the constable to finish. Now they pulled on the chains lifting the cross to an upright position. They kept lifting her until the base of the cross was a foot from the floor.

It was at that time that the victim and the observer discovered the iron shaft between her thighs. It was foot long and two inches wide. Perhaps it was meant as a weight support but it pressed on a very delicate area.

The young prisoner cried out in pain. Panicking she struggled to lift herself from the iron shaft. Bound as she was her arms were of little help, and there was nothing under her feet to stand on. The iron shaft was her primary means of support and all of her struggling only settled her firmly atop of it.

Desperately the tortured girl tried to beg for mercy, but the bit in her mouth again prevented this.

Michelle was wild in the test chair back in the lab. She also felt the blinding tortures being imposed on the poor girl. Yet for some reason unknown to the scientist she did not break the connection. Holding on in morbid fascination, sharing the girls tortures hour after hour.

Constance was again brought out in the morning. She was again chained hand and foot, the raw-hide bit still in place. She was to weak to stand so she knelt at the constables feet. Naked and helpless she awaited the magistrates judgment.

For the first time in days the bit was removed so that she could talk. Constance Reilly, the magistrate said, how do you respond to the charges of witchcraft?

Her voice was weak and cracked several times before she found the words. If it so pleases you good sir than I must be as you say, a witch, Constance confessed.

You say this of your own will, he asked?

Yes, Constance said, desperate to end her suffering.

The magistrate smiled, Now say truthfully, are there others of your coven present?

Constance was about to shake her head no when Michelle saw a familiar face. Yes I do my lord, she said through Constance. There is another present, right here among you.

The crowd gasped, a woman screamed, a few laughed.

Constance lifted her chained hands and pointed right at Tobias, He is the leader of our coven she said.

Tobias gasped, That is preposterous sir. I am no witch.

We shall see about that, The magistrate said. You stand accused by a witch of your own coven, the magistrate said, one who has confessed in accordance to the law. How do you plead?

She lies, Tobias said, I am no witch. Force the truth from her, Tobias said.

Michelle turned her head to him saying, They already have.

She is lying good sir, can you not see that, Tobias said sounding a bit less confident?

Prove to me this lie or you will burn at her side at sundown, the noble man said.

Constance's voice grew stronger, Prove my guilt and prove your own, she said ominously.

What say you, The magistrate asked again?

For the first time his life Tobias knew fear as Michelle spoke again, you tried to court me but my father refused you.

Yes, Tobias answered.

You became angry about it, the young witch said almost whispering.

Yes, he answered again.

For that you accused me of being a witch, she said her voice failing again.

Tobias was quiet now, either way he was in a lot of trouble.

The magistrate stood before Tobias, You are her accuser and now you stand accused. Either you are both witches or you have wrongly given false witness against this girl, which is it to be?

Tobias was visibly shaking now, I...I gave... He stammered, I gave false witness because she refused me, my lord, Tobias said.

Constance's family ran to her side. Kaleb her father slowly approached Tobias. He drew back his hand to strike but another held it back. It was Jacob, the young mans father.

No Kaleb, he said, this is my boy. Without warning Jacob back handed his son across the face knocking him flat. From this day on, he told the boy, you are as nothing to me.

The magistrate stepped forward, Tobias, you have until sundown to be clear of the village. And tomorrow to be out of the district or you will suffer the fate this unfortunate girl nearly did. Justice is done he said turning his back on the boy.

Michelle pressed the stop button ending the experience. Thank god everything worked out. At least now we know what happened to Mark and we can make the right adjustments now.

Three months later Constance had recovered from her ordeal. She rested on the bank of a small stream with her feet in the cool water. A withered plant was near her. With one finger she gently stroked the leaves of the plant quickly bringing the wild rose to full bloom.

Tobias had been right, she was a witch. But she could only affect nature not people or animals. But that was her little secret.

End.



Witchcraft: the Spirit



"Remember, Lilara, a spirit is not a person, nor is it a mindless beast. While lacking rational thought for the most part, spirits do have definitive natures. As such, the best results are created by summoning and using a spirit with the same base nature as the task you seek to put it towards. Were you to send a message of love through a spirit of cruelty, for instance, it would likely be twisted so that you would never see your loved one again in friendship."

Lilara listened intently to her tutor, but smirked a secret smirk at her plans for this new Art she was learning. While not actively persecuted any more, witches were mistrusted for the unnatural forces and powers they could call upon, in spite of the fact that they used their powers for good for the most part. The life of a witch's apprentice was lonely. Perhaps spirits could help ease certain desires and longings in her life...

"Lilara!" Aldrea, Lilara's mentor snapped. "Are you paying attention? What was I just saying? These are important warnings, you know! I don't say this stuff for the fun of it!"

"You were talking about the nature of spirits, and matching your purpose to their nature, Dark Lady. How a spirit of a nature contrary to your intention was likely to create damaging or disastrous results." Lilara replied.

"Very good, Lilara. Now, do you have any questions before the end of this lesson?" Aldrea asked.

"Yes, Dark Lady. Is it safe to allow a spirit to touch a person?" Lilara blushed slightly, feeling her intentions in asking were obvious, especially with the next question she planned on asking, although there were many other reasons she may have chosen to ask this question.

"It is not inherently dangerous to touch a spirit, or allow it to touch oneself. The touch of a spirit is an unusual but harmless sensation, which varies somewhat depending on the nature of the spirit. Anything else, Lilara?"

"May I practice this Art in my spare time?" Lilara asked. She would have preferred to keep her plan completely secret, but Aldrea could sense any witchcraft used within her house, and Lilara really didn't want her bursting in on her and demanding to know what she was doing when she put her plan into action.

Aldrea frowned thoughtfully, and then nodded. "Yes, Lilara. I believe you are experienced enough in this Art to safely practice on your own. I trust your judgment to not do anything above your abilities."

Lilara could not stop a grin from spreading across her face as she left the Instruction Room. She flicked her wrist casually as she walked into her room, igniting the magical lantern hanging on the wall. An elegant gesture clicked the door shut behind her, and locked it. Sinking onto her bed, Lilara gave in to the desire which had been playing on the corner of her mind all day. 

She ran her hands over her body. Her fingers ran up and down her thighs, creating tingles running through her body. Then her hands moved up to her belly. Now Lilara raised her hands up to her breasts, cupping her fingers around them and gently, sensually, massaging them through her shirt. Growing bored of this game, and lustier, Lilara pulled her top down off her chest, exposing perky, erect nipples. Lilara ran her fingers around and over them, sending a shiver down her spine. 

Now, the plan, Lilara thought. She reached out with her mind, searching for any spirits within her mental reach, and found one perfect for her purposes, among several others. It was a weak spirit of pleasure. With one hand, Lilara drew several gestures in the air, a basic summoning spell, while the other hand idly continued to caress her nipple. The chosen spirit felt her call and heeded it, appearing before her in an instant. 

She made the connection with it, feeling its pleasure for life and compassionate desire to please her. Truly it fit her plans like a glove. Experimentally, Lilara reached out her hand for it, as though offering a handshake. The spirit sent out tendrils of energy which interlaced with her fingers, sending a shiver down her spine. Its touch felt like warm water running over her skin. Perfect. 

Lilara sent the spirit a mental command: Please me. Do as I do. She ran her hands gently over her body, waiting to see what the spirit would do. It didn't disappoint. Its energy caressed the other side of her body, feeling like warm water running over it, only firmer and with more force. With each touch, Lilara's trust in the spirit grew. She'd been a little apprehensive about allowing a foreign being to touch her in the way she intended.

But the spirit was a spirit of kindness, benevolence and pleasure. Now that it was bound to her, its only goal was to please her. Now do this, Lilara commanded the spirit, calling up a mental image of a lover caressing her breasts. The spirit obeyed, fondling her breasts sensually with hands of warm, watery energy, pushing her shirt aside further. Lilara unbuttoned and pulled down her shorts, running her hands up and down her legs as she did, before pulling aside her panties and teasing herself by running her fingers around the outside of her sex. 

Suddenly Lilara's summoned spirit changed tack, responding to Lilara's unconscious command as she imagined a lover caressing her nipples with his mouth. A tongue of warm, pleasant energy ran over each of Lilara's nipples, and she unconsciously moaned. Ohh. Lilara quickly cast a ward of silence with her left hand while continuing to tease herself with her right. Now Lilara's vagina moistened and she could resist temptation no longer. 

She moaned again as she ran her finger up and down her slit, paying special attention to her clit. Ohh. Lilara's left hand moved up to her nipple and the spirit obligingly moved aside. Lilara moaned again. Ahh. She ran a finger around the entrance of her vagina, before inserting it. Ohh. She thrust her crotch up and down, thrusting her finger inside herself. Ohh. 

The spirit responded to another unspoken, un-thought command. Tongues of energy caressed Lilara's clitoris. Ohh! Lilara inserted a second finger and increased the pace of her thrusting, as her pleasure and arousal rushed up towards its peak. Ahh. She ground her crotch as hard as she could over her fingers, giving in to her pursuit of pleasure. Ahh!

"Ohh...it's coming...I'm coming..." Lilara gasped, arching her back. Her clit felt as though it was at the centre of a vortex of energy as the spirit did its job. Lilara writhed in ecstasy, knowing nothing besides her pleasure, the touch of her fingers, and the caress of her summoned spirit, the best lover she had ever had -- and she'd had plenty, for all that she was a witch's apprentice.

Afterwards, she sat up tiredly. Lilara released the spirit from her spell, but to her surprise it did not immediately drift away as others had when she'd practiced. I would stay, said a silent voice in Lilara's head. It had the same liquid quality as the spirit's touch. I have never done this for anyone before. I would love to do this for you again, and again. Lilara considered it. Aldrea had showed her how to bind a spirit into an item, but she had never tried herself. She thought she could do it, though. And surely it would be easier to bind a willing spirit?

Not now, Lilara replied in her mind. But I will have a use for you again in the future. Would you be willing to stay within this until then? Lilara opened up her bed-side table drawer, and withdrew an enchanted bottle as she spoke. She'd intended it for something else, but this could take precedence.

The spirit sent a wordless acceptance, and Lilara cast the binding spell. She knew it was poorly done, and a malevolent spirit could have broken free with relative ease, but it held, and the spirit withdrew into the bottle. Lilara placed the bottle at the back of her drawer with a naughty smile.



Witches



**Disclaimer**

This story has a little bit of a lot of things involved. It was written for the Nude Day Contest and I wanted it to pack a wallop. I hope you like it.

****

Adam heard the whispers first. At least he thought they were whispers, tiny voices that were indistinct and seemed to be calling to him. He followed them, dropping his heavy pack, leaving the safety of the trail and moving into the darkness of the woods. 

He knew the tales of beasts and evil things that lived in these woods, his parents had warned him of them since he was little. The tales were gruesome and horrid, children taken and sacrificed, women raped and sent back to their villages to bear babes that bore the mark of the devil, men who went into the forest and were never heard from again. 

He, himself, had seen one such babe and the red mark that covered the tiny infant's face. The babe, a boy, had been taken from the village and left at the base of a tree by the boy's mother who turned her back on her child. The next morn, the boy was gone and the mother had been found by the river, her neck broken, and a strange terror in her eyes.

A branch whipped back, catching Adam across the face, drawing blood. He pushed at it, ignoring the sting, his attention focused upon the whispers. He could see light ahead, a flickering that indicated fire and he hurried that way, crashing through the dense undergrowth of the forest. If someone were to ask him where he was, he wouldn't know. But then again, he wouldn't care for the evil of the forest had taken his mind. He was a pawn for it to play with now.

At eighteen summers, Adam was a strong boy and good looking, with long blonde hair that curled at the tips, bleached almost white by the strong sun. His eyes were startling blue, rich and true, wide set in a strong face that was softened only by long golden eyelashes. He was tall and well built, muscles that came from the plow and hard labor keeping his body lean and strong. 

The girls of his village considered him a catch, the only son of a prosperous farmer and handsome to boot. They followed him constantly, giggling behind their hands if he turned and caught an eye or smiled at their silliness.

He'd been on his way to the village this morning, but his mind had been elsewhere instead of concentrating upon his way and his own safety, allowing the evil that dwelled within the dark trees an opening. It had taken its chance for Adam was as sought after by this darkness as he was by the girls of the village.

Laughter caught Adam's attention and he drew closer to the small clearing, moving aside a branch heavily laden with full rich berries to see what had brought him here. Looking between the branches, he caught his breath at the sight that greeted him.

Three girls, not much older than Adam himself, danced around the clearing. The three were beautiful, scarcely dressed with filmy shifts of varying colors. The first that caught his eye was a trim brunette with hair so dark that it seemed part of the forest itself. It flowed around her body bouncing with the girl's movements, a wreath of green leaves gracing her head. Green leaves were scattered among her locks echoing the color of her shift that parted as she skipped around the clearing. 

Her breasts were full, nipples hardened and pressing temptingly against the thin fabric. A tiny waist and full hips were displayed by a gold link belt. A large knife in a golden sheath was fastened to the belt. 

The second girl was blonde, her hair more golden than Adam's. She was buxom with fleshy breasts that would more than fill his large hands. Large rounded nipples pressed against the sky blue of her shift which was the same color as her eyes. Her hair was as straight as pins with pale blue flowers woven through the satiny tresses. It wasn't her body that drew Adam's eyes though, but her mouth, lush and pink, she wet her lips with her tongue leaving them moist and soft looking. He had a very difficult time taking his eyes off of her.

But there was one more girl. This girl's exotic looks with fiery red hair that hung in thick waves to her waist and green eyes shaped like a cat's, caused Adam's heart to race and his blood to pump thickly into his groin. She wore gold, the material thin enough for Adam to see through it to the graceful curves of her body. Her breasts stood high, her nipples large and pink. Slender hips framed bright red curls that covered the mound of her sex. She seemed to be staring at Adam, though he knew she couldn't see him in the darkness of the forest.

His hands itched to touch her, his body ached with pent up desire. Sex was forbidden before marriage, he had never felt the touch of a woman's hand against his body. And had only known his own self pleasuring, though that also was forbidden and he'd been forced to repent long hours afterwards.

Now he couldn't help but drop his hand to his groin and gently rub the growing bulge that grew from the erotic sight before him. He watched as the three girls danced around the clearing, their bare feet flying over the soft grass as they sang their tunes and stirred a small black cauldron from which a tempting aroma wafted into the wind.

Adam watched the girls as they giggled together, his eyes almost popping from his head when the luscious brunette embraced the blonde, their lips meeting softly. The blonde's hands caressed the brunette with tender touches that had the girl moaning her pleasure. Their lips parted to show the teasing tangle of their tongues as they continued to arouse each other.

The gold link belt was removed and the brunette's green shift slipped from her shoulders catching for a teasing instant against the hardened tips of her breasts. She pulled back a little, wrapping her arm under her breasts to hold the shift to her before turning her back on the blonde. To Adam, it almost seemed as if she was teasing him as well as the pretty blonde girl whose hands settled on the brunette's slim shoulders.

Her hands slipped down, her fingers catching in the slim green straps and pulling downwards almost forcibly on the thin material of the shift. It slid down her arms, the material dragging off her breasts so that they seemed to bounce into view. Adam swallowed hard, his hand shifting over the long bulge in his pants as he feasted his eyes upon the first breasts he'd ever had the chance to see.

For a moment, his father's voice came to him. "Adam, son, you must never do anything that would jeopardize your mortal soul."

And then her shift slid down her body and landed at her feet, exposing the rest of her to his eyes and the voice was forgotten. She smiled and seemed to stare into Adam's eyes as if beckoning him to come to her, to touch the silky skin that gleamed in the sunlight.

"Bernadette," he heard the blonde say to the brunette as she slipped her hands over her soft breasts, her fingers pulling on the hard pink nipples. "Do you have the stones?"

Bernadette nodded, her head falling back to rest on the blonde's shoulder as she allowed her body to be mauled by the girl's small hands.

"Well, where are they?" the redhead asked, slipping up next to the two and stroking Bernadette's thigh.

"In my sheath, Calandra," Bernadette gasped.

Calandra laughed, slipping her fingers between Bernadette's thighs and into the wetness of her pink flesh. "I don't feel anything in there," she said, wiggling her fingers in a way that had Bernadette squirming and moaning.

"Not that sheath," she gasped, moaning when Calandra removed her fingers, slipping them between the brunette's lush pink lips to allow her to taste herself.

Calandra leaned forward and kissed Bernadette, their lips clinging as the blonde slipped her fingers between Bernadette's thighs, sliding two inside and slowly thrusting them in and out. 

Adam watched as she squirmed between the two women, her moans escaping despite Calandra's best efforts to keep her mouth busy.

"Not yet, Patience," Calandra said breathlessly as she tore her mouth away. "She must wait for her pleasure like the rest of us must."

Patience removed her hand, bringing her sticky fingers up to her mouth and licking them clean. "True, it will be much better for all of us if we are aroused when he comes."

Bernadette groaned, more than aroused. "I was so close," she grumped. "Can we not start the ceremony?"

Patience shrugged, stepping away from the flushed brunette. "Retrieve the stones, Calandra. I shall get the crystal and herbs." She slipped the straps of her shift from her plump arms, baring her large breasts to Adam's gaze. 

He barely restrained the moan that wanted to escape, his hand grasping his cock that throbbed against the material of his pants, twitching as it seemed to swell until it was almost painful. 

Patience slipped off her shift, exposing the rest of her curvy body, running her hands down over her breasts and stomach and moaning herself. "I can hardly wait. Have you seen him?" she asked Calandra.

"Only what He showed us," she said, slipping her golden shift down her body until her pink tipped breasts and red furred sex were exposed to the sunlight. "He said the boy would be the one. He said that he would be able to take care of all three of us. We have but to call him and he will come to us."

Bernadette held up three stones, washed smooth in the river and painted a bright red. "I have the stones."

They gathered around the small black pot, Patience handing Calandra a bundle of herbs while she held a crystal that was a pale pink in color.

Adam watched, his eyes roving over the naked bodies of the three girls. They stood proudly in the middle of the clearing, the sun glistening off their skin, shining on their hair. They clasped hands, the black pot that bubbled over the fire in the center of the three. In their left hands they held their offerings, the crystal, the herbs and the three red stones.

As one, they began chanting, their voices raised in praise and plaintive beckoning, sung in sweet harmony. The words were strange and unearthly sounding, sung in a language he'd never heard before. As he watched, they began to dance, their bodies moving, swaying and dipping though their hands remained clasped.

Adam could feel their voices, almost as if they were a physical presence. He stood, his hand dropping from his crotch as he parted the branches, walking towards the girls.

Calandra, who face him, smiled as she chanted and nodded towards him. The other two turned their heads, watching him come towards him. As one, they twisted towards the fire, dropping their offerings into the fragrant brew.

The Bernadette stepped forward, holding her hands out to Adam. "Welcome, Adam. I am happy that you have heard our call."

He put his hands in hers, the other two girls coming up to flank him on either side. Patience touched his arm and Calandra put her hand on his shoulder, linking the four of them together. Adam felt a flash of heat that flew through him from where the girls' hands touched him ending at his fingertips and leaving him shuddering with a strange kind of pleasure that he could not understand.

Bernadette smiled. "He has blessed us and this joining. You shall perform well for us Adam and we shall reward you with more pleasure than you have ever felt before. Will we not, Patience?"

Patience nodded her blonde head, her blue eyes sparkling with happiness. "We will, Bernadette." She moved closer until her taut heavy breasts touched his arm, rubbing against him. She smiled even more when she saw him swallow convulsively and stare down at her body.

"Do not make him come in his pants, Patience." Calandra stepped closer and brushed her body against his back, pushing her hips against the hard curve of his ass.

"Have you ever been with a woman, Adam?" Bernadette asked him gently, smiling into his eyes.

Even as he shook his head no, Calandra spoke up. "You know he hasn't, Bernadette. We were told he would come to us pure of any evils, ours to turn, ours to make into what we wish him to become."

"Hush, Calandra, you are always so impatient. This boy must be treated with care, he is important to the future of our kind." She dropped Adam's hands, reaching up to the black tie at his neck, pulling at the knots until it came loose and dropped into her hands. Then she slipped the laces of his shirt free, as Calandra pulled his jacket from his shoulders.

As one, they lifted his shirt from his body, leaving him bare from the waist up. Patience sighed in anticipation as she ran her hands over his body, muscled and toned from the heavy labor of his daily chores. He was pale, for to bare a body in public was forbidden for those of his religion. That would change once he became one of them. He would grow tan and used to being naked in front of others. But now, it was up to them to lead him into their ways.

Calandra pressed against him from behind, her hands stroking from his shoulders to his waist as she sought to bring the boy pleasure and to please herself as well. He was easy on the eyes, she thought, hearing her sisters' voices in her head agreeing. Her hands found the waistband of his pants and she undid the crude fastening, feeling the baggy breeches fall from his trim hips, leaving him exposed.

Bernadette knelt at his feet, her eyes upon the hardness of his cock which had swung free of the confines of cloth, standing hard and long before them. "Oh, He was true to his word," she whispered, staring at the hardened shaft. "He will pleasure us all well and true." Her hand reached out as if she would touch him, but then she remembered herself, instead reaching for the boots on his feet to help him out of them.

He stepped from the pooled fabric of his breeches naked but for the heavy knitted stockings on his feet. Patience stepped around him, her hands trailing across his chest, her voice low as if speaking to a spooked animal. "You are a fine one, Adam. You are strong of face and form. Do you wish to be with me as man is with a woman?"

"I do not understand," Adam said, groaning as Patience's soft fingers brushed against the tops of his thighs and across the heavy sack that held his balls.

"Do not worry," Bernadette said, her hands on his legs, lifting them to remove the hand knitted stockings. "We shall teach you what you need to know. But you must answer Patience's question, Adam."

Calandra, her body still plastered against his back, stood on tiptoe to reach his ear with her mouth. "She wishes you to fuck her, Adam. Have you never seen two animals rut or know what husbands and wives do in your village?"

Adam nodded his head distractedly. "I have seen the horses that we mate and dogs, of course. Is that what you wish for me to do?"

"Good boy," Calandra whispered, slipping her tongue into his ear to circle the whorled curve. "Now answer Patience, Adam."

Adam, his cock throbbing with need, painful desire almost forcing him to his knees before these three beautiful women, felt a moment of fear and sanity through the cloud of lust that seemed to surround this clearing. Was this the danger his parents had warned him of? Would he be condemning himself to hell if he answered yes?

He struggled with himself, a losing battle for the spell cast by the three was strong.

Patience, unable to say another word until he answered her question, stood before him, her hands cupping her breasts, fingers twisting and tweaking at her nipples until they stood as ripe as the berries of the forest before him. Then she moved her hands down, over her rounded belly and plump thighs to the blonde covered mound of her sex, parting the swollen lips of her cunt with her fingers to show him the pink within.

"Y...Yes," Adam stammered, his eyes following her hands as they were meant to do. He lost the battle of wills with barely a struggle and stepped forward and into the blonde witch's hands. Lust overcame all moral religious values Adam might ever have had, leaving him a pawn to the three's wicked advances.

Patience lowered herself to the sweet grasses of the clearing, holding her hands out to Adam who followed her down. He felt his body settle against her plump one, feeling the give of sleek flesh and the heat of her like a fire, burning him from the inside out. Her hands caressed his chest, her lips finding his, giving him his first kiss.

He was clumsy and unsure, his mouth held tightly closed against hers. She sighed, pushing him back until he lay upon his back in the smooth grasses. "Open your lips when you kiss, Adam." She looked up at Bernadette who dropped to her knees at her unspoken request. Her mouth found Patience's easily, their lips parting and clinging moistly. 

"See what they do, Adam," Calandra said, coming to rest on the other side of him, her hands seeking the heat of his body as if that was where they belonged. "Open your lips, rub them against hers," she said, pushing him to his side. She snuggled in behind him, her hands stroking over the plains and angles of his body, hearing his moans as they watched the two girls kiss. "Then use your tongue to explore her mouth," she said, using her own to trace a path down his spine and then back up.

Patience broke the kiss, turning back to their promised one. She faced him; her blonde hair spread out around her, and pulled his face back to hers. "It is easy, Adam. And pleasurable, once you master the technique." Her lips touched his, gently, just brushing against his firm mouth. Then again, returning to take a deeper taste, still teasing until his mouth followed hers when she pulled back. "He's eager to learn," Patience said, satisfaction in her tone.

Then she slipped her mouth over his, rubbing his lips with her own and finally running her soft pink tongue over the seam of his lips until he opened them. His tongue pushed tentatively at her own with a childlike innocence that Patience enjoyed immensely. She could feel the heat of desire coiling in her own loins, knowing that she would be his first. First to taste of his mouth, first to feel his cock in her cunt, she would be the one to take his saintly virginity and lure him away from the ways of his people. 

Adam grew surer in his kiss, his mouth no longer following the dictates of Patience's but exploring what felt good to him. He loved the taste of her mouth, the darkness of the flavor that made his heart beat faster and a pulse seem to beat in the heaviness of his groin. Her breasts were like twin brands of fire against his chest. He wished to touch them, to find out for himself what one felt like.

His hand rose awkwardly, hesitantly brushing against the taut skin. He pulled back when she moaned as if he'd done something wrong. "I...I'm sorry," he stuttered, his lips still close to hers. "They are so pretty, I...I just wanted to know how they felt."

Patience laughed, a melodic sound empty of derision. "Then feel them, my stud, for they are for your pleasure as well as my own." 

He reached up, his hand brushing over her skin, not touching her nipple though he wished to know if it were as hard as it looked, or if it felt the same as his own, though they looked very different in appearance. 

"Like this, Adam," Bernadette said, coming to rest behind Patience, her arm around the blonde girl as she took Adam's hand in her own. Laying his palm against the heavy mound of flesh, she squeezed her hand over it gently, lifting slightly. Then ran his palm up and over, around the smoothness of her skin before finally pressing his palm against Patience's nipple.

"See how sleek and soft she is, Adam?" Bernadette asked, moving his hand in circles so that it teased Patience's nipple in a way she knew the blonde girl loved. The moan that escaped her lush lips told the tale of her passion and in her mind, she begged her sister to teach him more.

Adam nodded, swallowing convulsively. His mind was full of visions of corruption, his senses full of these three women. He could feel his cock being pressed between the soft plump thighs of Patience, trapped there so close to her heat to make him almost feel scorched. Calandra was behind him, her mouth on the back of his neck, her hands caressing him with a touch that was exquisite in its gentleness and persistence. Bernadette, her hand over his, was staring at him with eyes that seemed to melt into his soul. And all he could do was be the putty for their hands to mold as his will to resist had been tepid at best even from the first.




Witches Brew



I was 18 and probably the least popular kid in high school. I was the new kid in town and didn’t have any friends so I spent most of my time reading and playing video games. At school I hung out near the back of the property line, just by the fence and near to where the freaks gathered. I guess they wanted to be close to the park so they could run off and get high in between classes. I kind of admired the freaks, with their strange hair and clothes. They didn’t seem to care about what any of the other cliques in school thought of them and there was one girl in particular that really caught my eye. She was short with long, jet black hair that seemed a tangled mess most of the time but when she tied it back, it showed what a beautiful face she had. She often wore black peasant dresses with doc martin boots which made it difficult to see what kind of body was hiding under all those gothic clothes. 

I was sitting with my back against the tree out there on the fringe one afternoon when I heard her sweet voice close to me. I looked up stunned to realize she was talking to me.

“You. New kid. What’s your name?” she demanded

“Edgar.” I answered suspiciously. “What’s your name?” I asked feeling a little more confident. She smiled at me briefly and looked hard directly into my eyes.

“I’m Lilith. The witch.” She added and grinned showing her beautiful smile. The other two girls with her just giggled nervously. “This is Bunny.” She gestured to a cute blonde beside her. “And this is Rachel.” She pulled the red-haired and reluctant Rachel by the arm and the three of them sat down beside me. I shifted uncomfortably at the sudden attention of these three lovely little goth hotties and wondered to myself if they weren’t up to some kind of prank.

“We want to use you for an experiment.” Lilith eyed me carefully. “We want to perform a ritual on you to see if it will work but we need a willing participant. Do you think you might be up to it?” she rested her hand lightly on my arm.

“What’s in it for me?” I asked still caught a little off guard. 

“What do you want?” She asked me suspiciously. I could tell that she wanted me to do this thing for her desperately but I wasn’t sure how far she was willing to go and I didn’t want to push my luck.

“How badly do you want me to do this?” I suppressed a chuckle. I could see in her eyes she was anxious about it and I was even more surprised what she blurted out next.

“My friend Bunny here will give you a blow job.” I looked at Bunny and she shyly nodded her agreement. She was cute if maybe a little over weight but again it was so hard to tell by the clothes they wore. 

“Ok. You got a deal.” I said, not believing my good fortune and I proceeded to unbutton my fly. Liliths’ hand shot down over top of mine and she smiled slyly.

“Not here. And only after you do this thing for us.” I smiled my agreement and enjoyed the feel of her smooth hand against mine as she held it and pulled me towards the woods. 

They led me to a small clearing deep in the woods. They laid out their instructions for me and told me to return before midnight that night. I went home a little troubled about what I had got my self into but by the time I was ready to go, all apprehension had faded and I was excited about getting my first blow job. I had a little trouble finding the clearing and congratulated myself for leaving early as I was almost late. When they saw me approach, they quickly gathered around me and led me to a large flat stone that I somehow hadn’t noticed was there before. They laid me on top of it and pulled off my shirt and boots. I was wearing my jeans and nothing else now as per their instructions.

There was a small black cauldron near the fire and they had obviously been cooking something foul. It was bubbling and steaming and I felt a twinge of queasiness when I realized that they expected me to drink some of the noxious brew. It smelled horrible; rotten fish and sulphur among other malodorous scents. Another long look at Bunny’s mouth and the thought of her lips wrapping around me and I decided what the hell and sucked back as much as I could from the cup they handed me. It actually didn’t taste as bad as it smelled, kind of chalky and fruity and even a little sour. I managed to get most of it down with out gagging too much and I relaxed back down on the stone slab.

They began chanting and dancing around me while every once in a while flicking some kind of dust into the open flames of the little fire. It sparkled whenever they did and I found it mesmerizing. I was so focused on the multi-coloured flames dancing inside the fire, I hadn’t even noticed that all three of them had stripped off their clothes and were prancing wildly in the open air, under the full moon. I was amazed at how lovely all three of them were. Bunny wasn’t as fat as I had initially supposed. She had curves all right but I never expected her to be proportioned so nicely. Her tits were big and firm and her waist was narrow enhancing a gorgeously plump ass. Rachel was very thin and slender and slightly taller than Bunny. Her breasts weren’t nearly as large but they were beautiful nonetheless and her pointed nipples just screamed out to be sucked. 

Lilith, the raven haired beauty was by far my favourite out of the three. She was the shortest but also the most sexy. Her breasts were smaller than Bunny’s but larger than Rachel’s and her wide hips accentuated her narrow waist and perfectly shaped ass. Her full red lips were somehow even more desirable in the flickering light and I felt myself wishing that it was her that was going to take my cock into her mouth instead of Bunny. I’m not sure how long I watched them dance but it was only when they stopped that I realized how hard I was. They gathered their clothes together and quickly got dressed much to my disappointment.

They stood over me and chanted quietly for a few minutes and I think I must have blacked out for a second. When I opened my eyes again I felt very strange. They were all looking at me with very concerned looks on their faces and I couldn’t figure out why. Lilith sighed in relief when I spoke.

“What’s wrong?” I asked trying to sound casual.

"We thought you weren’t going to wake up.” Bunny seemed very shaken.

“I guess I blacked out for a sec.” I said calmly.

“A sec?” Rachel seemed almost angry. “You were out cold for 2 hours. She said frantically.

“Well it was a very relaxing nap.” I smiled and Lilith chuckled. Rachel looked over at her and scowled. It was the truth. I felt completely relaxed and even invigorated. I felt great.

“See. I told you it wouldn’t work.” She lightly slapped Lilith on the arm. Bunny leaned over to me and put her hand on the side of my face, as though she were comforting me. 

“We don’t really know yet though do we?” she smiled and I liked the feel of her soft hand.

“What exactly is it you were trying to do to me?” I asked feeling somewhat foolish for not asking earlier. They all exchanged glances with each other and giggled slightly.

“We were trying to turn you into the perfect guy.” Lilith smiled sheepishly at me through her long black hair. “We tried a spell to change you into a guy that knows how to treat a girl, make her feel special, make her feel like the sexiest woman on earth.” She blushed a little.

I sat up and realized that my hard on hadn’t gone anywhere and was in fact harder than ever. It was uncomfortably squashed in my jeans and I popped the buttons to free it and relieve some of the pressure. I don’t know who was more shocked when that monster sprung out of my pants. All of us just stared at it with open mouths. It was huge. I didn’t have a small cock before but this thing had to be 9 inches long and a good 2 inches wide. Now I know most guys would be very happy but I was still in shock. I looked up at the girls and they were all still staring at it in awe. And I wasn’t even completely hard yet. 

“I think part of your plan worked Lilith.” I said quietly. She must have snapped out of her trance and she looked me in the face.

“You weren’t that big before?” she asked suspiciously. I laughed nervously.

“No. I was never this big. This is completely new.” I was still stunned. Bunny licked her lips and moved closer.

“Can I touch it?” she asked nervously.

“You can do anything you want with it.” I grinned and the thought of her mouth trying to take that huge cock in made it twitch and grow slightly more. She giggled nervously and reached her hand down to caress it. 

I closed my eyes as her hands encircled my throbbing meat. She couldn’t quite get her hand all the way around it but with two she managed to get a nice grip. She started sliding them up and down slowly and I moaned. It felt so good. I could almost hear Bunny getting more and more aroused as she stroked my stiffening cock. I opened my eyes and looked at her in awe. I could hear her getting aroused. I could sense her feelings precisely. I knew how wet she was getting and how hot she was. It was like I had a private window into her emotions. I was imagining my hand cupping her breast and licking her nipple slowly when she gasped and grabbed her tip in her hand.

“What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly.

“N-nothing it’s just that…I could feel someone sucking on my tit.” She stammered her face flushed. I was astounded. Had she reacted to what I was thinking? Could I force my will upon this lovely little blonde? I decided to try an experiment. 

“Baby…don’t stop.” I smiled at her and she resumed her stroking. I closed my eyes and imagined my tongue flicking over her nipples lightly teasing them and she moaned. I sensed her state of arousal and willed it to increase and she started swaying her hips as she bent down and started to kiss my rock hard dick. She struggled for a moment to get it into her mouth but once the head was in she relaxed and started to suck. It felt so incredible and I instinctively pulled her head closer to me. I could now clearly see her erect nipples poking through the thin fabric of her cotton shirt and I decided to try something else. I thought of her dripping pussy and imagined a big wet tongue gliding softly against her; up and down her spreading lips. Her scream was muffled by my raging cock in her mouth but I knew she had felt it. I continued to make her squirm and shudder with delight until she could no longer concentrate on my cock. She let it slip out of her and she fell to the grass, legs splayed open and fingers clawing at her dress.

I looked at the other two girls who had been transfixed by the sight of Bunny trying to devour my huge cock and they looked back at me with sheer astonishment. Bunny was yelping and fingering her now exposed pussy for all she was worth. I sensed her climax approaching quickly but I held it off. She was so amazing to watch in a state of unrelenting passion. She was now pumping 2 fingers inside her with one hand and furiously rubbing her clit with the other while mewling loudly and writhing on the grass

“What did you do to her?” Rachel’s’ voice held an accusatory tone. I studied her up and down and realized that she was pretty aroused herself. In fact, she had always lusted secretly after bunny and the sight of the object of her affections rolling around on the ground with her wet pussy in plain view was making her intensely hot. 

“I didn’t really do anything.” I lied. “She’s just really horny.” I grinned. But Rachel wasn’t happy with my answer and she came right up to my face. “You stop it right now.” She demanded. I was a little shocked but I knew what she needed. It was very bizarre but I just knew what was in her heart. I knew what she really wanted more than anything else. So I decided to give it to her. I looked her in the eyes and said to her almost quietly 

“Get down between her legs and start licking Bunny. Lick her hard and fast and when she comes you’re going to come too.” I wasn’t really sure whether it would work. I knew it was what she wanted to do but couldn’t allow herself to admit it. To my utter shock she did exactly what I told her to do and within seconds Bunny was clutching her red hair in both hands and pulling her hard against her gushing pussy. I inflamed the sense of arousal Rachel was feeling which was already pretty high and I turned my attention to Lilith. 

Lilith was watching in fascination and when our eyes met I could feel her get tense. She was a little frightened. I smiled warmly and patted the stone beside me urging her to sit. She did and I turned back to Rachel and Bunny who had switched into a sixty-nine position all on their own. Bunny was about to burst I think and I decided to let them both come. I turned to Lilith and kissed her deeply just as both girls erupted into screaming, and shuddering. The simultaneous orgasm they shared was mind blowing and they just held each other, half naked on the grass, trying to catch their breath. 

Lilith eyed me suspiciously and subconsciously licked her ruby lips. Kissing her had made me stand at full attention again and my cock was waving proudly in the cool night air. 

“What did you do to them?” she gestured to Rachel and Bunny who were quietly stroking and kissing each other. 

“I made them feel good.” I struggled to find the right words.

“I know but how?” she pleaded.

“I don’t know exactly. I just knew what they wanted and imagined them getting it. And then they did. I can’t really explain it. Besides, aren’t you supposed to know what you did to me?” I wrapped my arm around her sensing her internal confusion.

“Well, we didn’t know exactly what would happen. The description wasn’t very clear in the spell book. And some of it we didn’t understand. We just knew how to perform the ritual. On how to make the perfect man.” She looked hungrily into my eyes. “Do you feel different?” she asked. I looked down at my hard cock and grinned at her. “I mean besides that?” she smiled playfully and I noticed her gaze lingered down there for a moment. 

“Yes. A little I guess. I feel stronger, healthier. My senses seem to be a little sharper. I can smell your hair for example. Very nice. I stroked her silky hair and breathed in the fragrance of spicy fruits and little smoke from the fire. I wanted to taste her lips again and as I leaned forward I didn’t even have to will her to kiss me. Her arms wrapped around my neck and I lifted her effortlessly up and onto the stone slab. I stuck my tongue in her mouth and realized for the first time that hers was pierced. I liked that a lot and my hard cock lying on her belly liked it too. She stopped her tongue from swirling hungrily against mine and put her hand against my chest. 

“Am I feeling this way cos of you?” she squeaked nervously.

“No.” I answered sympathetically “I wouldn’t force you to do anything you don’t want to Lilith. I really like you and I guess I owe you one. Big time.” We both laughed and then she dove for my tongue. I could barely restrain myself she was so hot and aroused. She was pulling at me with her nails, clawing my chest and kissing and sucking all exposed skin. I flipped her over onto her stomach and hiked the dress up to her hips. I slid the head of my huge cock up and down her already wet lips a few times and then slid the head into her spreading hole. She moaned and then I slid it in as far as I dared. She screamed and then held my leg still so I didn’t move for a second. I could sense her tensing up as the huge member stretched her tunnel and I relaxed her slowly and increased her arousal intensely. 

Then I realized what the quickly fading pain had been. She was a virgin and I had just popped her cherry. She started pushing her ass back against me struggling to accommodate my immense girth when I was struck by a sudden thought. I imagined flooding her with come to help lubricate things up and then it happened. My cock was spurting hot cream deep inside her and she orgasmed almost right away. I wasn’t nearly ready to stop though. I was still painfully hard and I wanted to fuck her hard. All that come floating around inside her did the trick and I could slide a little easier in her hot tight hole. I began pumping into her harder and she still bucked against me driving it deeper into her. She was panting frantically and I grabbed her luscious tits and squeezed them while hammering into her furiously. 

I thought of a wet tongue licking her clit and then another in her mouth and when I opened my eyes Bunny had slid under us and was giving Lilith a good old fashioned tongue lashing. Rachel had also moved into position and was kissing Liliths open mouth and tweaking her ultra sensitive nipples. Lilith put a finger inside Rachel’s’ dripping pussy and Bunny was rewarded by two of Rachel’s slippery fingers. I was getting close to blowing when I realized that I could link all our orgasms together and we could all go off at the same time. Why not give it a shot I said to myself and I concentrated on holding on just a minute longer. I could feel they were all ready to explode and hear them as well. These were not quiet girls. They were moaning and groaning loudly. I tensed slightly and pounded hard into Lilith and she gasped in ecstasy. When I couldn’t take it any more I blew my load and allowed them all to join me in an incredibly intense orgasm. It was much stronger than I expected and I almost lost my balance. As I slipped out of the sopping Lilith, my glistening cock fell right onto Bunny’s’ mouth. Without batting an eye she took the hardening monster and licked it clean. She put as much of it in her mouth as she could and sucked. I couldn’t resist and I shot another hot load of come against the back of her throat. Her eyes widened in surprise and she swallowed every drop hungrily. 

There was something different about me. I felt stronger, smarter and even wiser. In fact everything seemed to feel better. I could smell, hear, taste, see, and feel everything more intensely. I wasn’t sure about how much control over them I really had but I genuinely wanted to make all of these girls truly happy. I had a strange a deep affection for them all and I realized that there was much to learn, not only about them but myself as well. 



Witches Brew



I am laid out on Esmiralda's platform, my arms and wrists secured next to my sides with velcro straps. My legs extend beyond the end of the platform and my ankles are secured together with feet flat on the floor. Another velcro strap is wrapped about my legs at the knees, forming something of a backrest for Esmiralda who sits atop me naked with her beautiful, brown, bare feet placed together over my face. Her feet move slowly up and down my face, side by side, pausing with intermittent strokes to clasp her stinking, sour toes over my nostrils. I wretch at the ghastly odor, then inhale deeply until my lungs are full, and my eyes roll back in my head as the delirium rushes over me. 

   Esmiralda is a local folk healer and fortune teller by day, and an amateur dominatrix by night. She is something of a witch,...a good witch, anyway,....who insists that sucking her toes and performing cunnilingus on her bestows good luck on the giver. Standing about five foot three in her rotten canvas sneakers, and weighing about one hundred seventy pounds, or so, Esmie is wonderfully buxom, with magnificent hips and a voluminous round ass. Her thick, muscular thighs are like boa constrictors, and yet, taper into the daintiest of knees, firm, curvy calves, pretty ankles, and lovely sculpted feet. Her heels are square and thickly padded, and her silky, soft arches are strong, but not too high. Her instep is broad, and her exquisitely delicious toes are perfectly aligned. Esmie's smooth soles are always warm and moist with rancid sweat, and her toes reek with the putrid stench of fermented toe scum. She spends most of her day in a pair of sneakers that date back twenty years to her days as a high school cheerleader. Full of holes, and soaked through with oily, age-old, feminine foot filth, these little shoes form the basis of her sensually dominating persona. Each session begins with a period of intensive foot worship whereby Esmie's feet and toe cleavages are licked clean of every trace of sweat and toe scum.

   Above and directly behind me, perched on an old wooden stool, is a young blond woman named Ellen, with the heels of her pumps hooked on the cross-members of the stools legs. Her knees are spread apart, and the crotch piece of her black thong is clearly distinguishable under her short miniskirt at the rim of the seat. She is taller,...about six feet,....and just as buxom and curvaceous as Esmie. Longer legged of course, hers terminate in slightly more elegant and elongated feet, with longer and more slender toes. This is her second visit in a week, and she is celebrating her recently settled divorce. She too keeps her feet smelling like swill, wearing a pair of old black, sling-back leather pumps that are scuffed and full of the most putrid foot odor. She looks down on me from between her milky thighs, her soft eyes resolute with purpose and anticipation. Earlier in the week she had sat atop me in a black brassiere, her stocking feet in my face, and her filthy, reinforced toes in my mouth. Now she watches as I lick the greasy toe scum from between Esmie's succulent, flexible digits.

   It is dusk and the sun has just gone down. The room around us smells of wretched foot odor and incense. Strung from the rafters above are tiny clear Christmas lights that veil the platform in a kind of half light. In the corner behind me is the statue of the Virgin of Guadalupe, an array of votive candles glowing before her, and a writhing serpent beneath her lovely sandaled foot. Next to us, about six feet away, is an old love seat, worn and musty with sweat and body odor. It folds out as a bed, and many nights have been spent on my back with Esmie sitting astride my face, butt first. In the adjacent corner is Esmie's wicker Peacock chair, frayed a bit around the edges, but sturdy and mysterious. How many hours have I sat cross-legged on the floor before her, massaging her wonderful red-brown legs and sucking her sour toes? Hour many times have I knelt on the soiled rug before her with my face buried in her steamy crotch, as my tongue moves up and down her swollen labium, and probes the depths of her wet canal? 

   Next to the chair is an old lamp table full of votive candles of every type and size. An empty wine glass is present, left there earlier as I sat before another woman who visit's regularly. She is a domestic servant from a nearby town, and she needed her feet worshiped after a day doing general housecleaning for a gaggle of white trash. She, too, wore sneakers and her lovely brown feet reeked of sweat and filth. In her 40's perhaps, she has gorgeous legs, and there are few things I enjoy more than worshiping the feet and massaging the legs of a woman of color. It is an honor and privilege to be of such service to this woman. 

   The old wood framed house creaks, and pecans drop on the tin roof above, as the trees are tossed about in the breeze of an evening thunderstorm. The old windows rattle, and the stained, roll-down shades flap as the rain begins to fall lightly above us. The candle flames flicker, and dark shadows dance overhead in the open rafters. Esmie stuffs her heel gingerly into my mouth and I immediately begin to work the edges of my teeth against her soft flesh, rubbing away any dried skin, and dredging up the malodorous crud that lays wedged in her fine pores. The filthy insoles of her sneakers leave a poopy brown stain on her soles that must be loosened, and then licked away before the evening session moves on to more intimate issues.

  With her feet finally clean, Esmie retreats by grasping my face between her warm soles, as Ellen drops her old pumps and places her sweat soaked soles together over my face. She curls her toes over my nostrils and the sharp, acrid odor of her toe scent burns through my sinuses. Reflexively, I wrench away, but am instantly trapped in a cocoon made of silky-soft girl-feet. I inhale deeply, and am carried away once again by that nauseating, brown cloud that emanates from Ellen's delicate, pink toe cleavages and soles. Ellen is aroused by the sight of me beneath her feet and without much foreplay, points the long, elegant toes of her right foot downward and coaxes them all into my captive mouth at once. My tongue darts between her supple digits and instantly my taste buds are inundated with the salt-sour tang of a white women's wretched toe scum. Like snakes, Ellen's toes coil about my tongue and squeeze playfully, causing her oily bunkum to ooze forth freely.

  I lay in a stupor, eyes watering from the stench, sucking Ellen's toes and licking her smooth soles. Periodically, she would work her heels, and then the balls of her feet, into my mouth to be exfoliated and licked clean. Ellen would give forth with a sigh of ecstacy, and squirm on the stool on which she sat. Then more slavish tongue work on her soft soles would resume, and finally some additional toes sucking. 

  Esmie dismounted and knelt beside the platform. Reaching into my shorts, she drew out my flaccid shaft and began pumping slowly up and down. Encased in her silky-soft fist, my rod stiffens quickly. Hungrily, the witch drops her head and grasps my foreskin in her teeth. Her tongue flicks wildly at the tip of my tool, sending shock waves though my body. I began to squirm, too, as the big blond girl above me massages my face vigorously with her lithe, dexterous toes and soles. Esmie sucked at my shaft now, taking it deep into her mouth and then working her tightly pursed lips up and down the shaft rhythmically. It is sensory overload as I am transported deeper into a tortured delirium. 

   Then the magnificent Ellen withdrew her bare feet from my face and stood up. She unwrapped the leather miniskirt and tossed it onto the love seat. Lifting and removing her black turtleneck, tossing it aside as well, her big, jiggling jugs bounced forth majestically. Hovering above me, Ellen grasps each tit and hefts it, squeezing gently and stroking the huge conical nipples that swell before her eyes. Stepping to one side of me, she peeled down her stinking, soiled panties and then dropped them over my face. Standing on one foot, Ellen carefully took the wet panties between her supple toes and deftly stuffed them into my mouth. My shaft stiffened as the taste of menstrual flow reached my tongue. 

  From the floor next to the platform, Esmie produced the "evil contraption",....a perforated plastic golf ball attached to one end of a six foot length of clear plastic tube, with a plastic funnel attached to the upper end. A look of horror shot across my face as the folk witch coaxed the ball end into my mouth and handed the statuesque Ellen the funnel. Stepping across me, the big girl spread her legs, squatted slightly, placed the funnel firmly over her swollen vulva and released a stream of golden, yellow piss. Gleaming in the candle light, the pee coursed down the tube and into my mouth. Mingling with the soiled panties, the fresh, hot piss took on the flavors of sweat, mucous, menstrual flow and week-old woman-filth. Quite an irresistible cocktail, if one thinks about it. Then, the ball is jiggled from my mouth, as ellen steps to the side and the big girl clamps a warm foot across my mouth until I have swallowed all her pee.

   When I have done as ordered, Ellen steps across me again and squats slowly until her crotch hovers just above my captive face. Mucous drips from her fat labium, and the odor of menstruation seers my sinus cavities. Ellen's ass is huge, with hips that measure easily in the mid-forty inch range. She reaches down and removes the wet undies from my mouth, then, reaching back with both hands, she pulls apart her ass cheeks, and in the dim light I see her dark rectum. Gently settling to her knees, her massive bum looms closer, and Ellen calls for my tongue on her butt flesh. I oblige, licking happily at her cavernous sweaty, crevice. It is ghastly business, but it is a great joy, and my shaft stiffens in the witch's mouth. For the immense pleasure, there is a price that must be paid. And I pay dearly for the privilege of giving these magnificent women the homage that they deserve. 

   Ellen finally settles down and drops all her weight gingerly onto my face, driving my nose up her rectum as her enormous maw of a vagina engulfs my lower face like the mouth of a great serpent. Thick labium drapes over my cheeks and will seal off the precious air if I do not commence to probing round and round in her slimy canal. Thick mucous oozes forth, and I must gulp it down, drown or suffocate. Big Ellen begins a slow bump and grind, humping my face dreamily and deriving great satisfaction from my slavish tongue work. The horrendous stench of her deep bowels is highly arousing, and my shaft is kept rigid with Esmie's expert fellatio.

  A clap of thunder crashes nearby, and then a deluge begins above us. But all I can really hear is the squeak of the platform as Ellen's weight shifts back and forth, and the audible squish of a wet, sloppy cunt sucking at my face. Ellen's face-fucking picks up the tempo, and she shifts back and down a bit until her fat clitoris is within reach of my tongue. I suck and lick her clit, as great flows of hot, mucous descend over my face. The pace picks up, and a deep groan comes forth from the depths of Ellen's body. My hips thrust against Esmie's mouth, as Ellen stiffens, then shakes violently, and stiffens again. The big girl farts, and I am thankful that my nose was not up her tremendous ass. Sliding forward again in her slimy muck and grasping my mouth once again in her gaping cunt, Ellen feeds me her orgasm. Gulping down her flow, I now shudder, my legs stiffen in their bonds and I explode into Esmie's hungry mouth. Esmie pumps and sucks at my deflating shaft, biting the head and foreskin for added effect, and to squeeze every drop of semen that she can make off with. She pumps and jerks,...then bights and sucks. Pain, then pleasure.

   Ellen sits atop my face quietly as I continue to probe her slimy sex canal. It is a peaceful evening, with the ghastly odor of steamy sex and sweat filling the room with both revulsion and ecstacy. These women are the sweetest of lovers, and I am in awe of their remarkable feminine prowess. They must be worshiped completely, and with great reverence and enthusiasm. It is their birthright,....their human right. The evening will draw on, late into the wee hours of the morning. The two women will change places and positions several times before I am released from my bonds and shuttled over to the open sofa bed where the two women will collapse on top of me with feet in my face, or my head clamped between their thighs,....or perhaps even my face burried beneath their heaving breasts. They may sleep softly as I suck their nipples, and tongue their rubbery areolas. As the rain clears away near morning, the air will freshen and filter into the old farm house through every crack. The candles will go out one by one,....most of them, anyway. And, as the sky lightens outside, roosters will crow here and there, all over the dew-covered countryside.