Feature Writer: WitcherD1627
Feature Title: SYLVIA, A WITCH, AND A DEMON
Story Codes: Erotic Horror
Synopsis: She has a sexy night with a Witch, then gets her own power.
Sylvia, a Witch, and a Demon
Sylvia was comfortable under a few blankets on her love seat. She was watching and laughing at one of her favorite shows as the night passed when she felt her phone go off. Patting around at the fluffy coverings, she found her cellphone after a few seconds of searching and read the notification. It was a text from her friend Gwen.
“Hey, girl. You should really come by and visit me at work tonight :)” the message read.
Sylvia smirked to herself and started tapping out a response. Gwen worked at her favorite bar. She was probably bored, or drunk, sneaking shots while tending bar.
“Oh, yeah? But what if I already have plans with my couch?” Sylvia sent and looked back at her TV, keeping her phone in her hand until it buzzed again.
“That’s why you need to come here. You won’t have any fun at home.”
Sylvia rolled her eyes. Another two message came in.
“Plus there’s this really Pagan-looking girl here having a good time talking to strangers.”
“She’s totally your type 😉 Big Witch Energy, LOL.”
Sylvia raised her eyebrows after reading the text and tilted her head slightly to lean on her hand. Why did she tell Gwen things like that in confidence? But after a moment she looked at the time, not too early, not too late. She could at least stop by the bar for a couple drinks and a chat with Gwen. If witchy girl was still there, hey, maybe they could flirt a bit.
“Okay, fine, a drink and some spells sounds fun :p” she messaged Gwen back, “I’m getting ready, be there soon.”
“HA! I knew that would grab your interest,” came Gwen’s text. “See you! I’ll try my best to keep her here ;)”
Sylvia sat up, pushing the blankets back and turned off the TV. She stood and walked over to her mirror. Her hair was still in good shape from the day. She hadn’t taken her makeup off yet and she could just touch up. Yeah, fine. This night was happening.
She went to her closet and started to peruse, standing there in her comfy pajama shirt and shorts. Tucking her shoulder length, straight black hair behind her ears, she started pulling probable tops and bottoms from the closet and laid them on her bed. She sifted through the clothes, settling on a gothy-grunge look by combining some blood red leggings, high-waisted black jean shorts, and a dark grey open sided top that would show off a decorative black bra. She pulled on some light boots with a slight heel and hung a silver pendant necklace around her neck. Her hair got a toss and a smoothing before she sat at her vanity desk and fixed her makeup.
Surveying herself in the mirror a last time, Sylvia gathered her essentials into a clutch, threw on a jacket, and left her small apartment.
The bar Gwen worked at, The Central, was literally two blocks away from where Sylvia lived, so she was happy to walk. It was a cool, breezy night. The moon shone brighter than the lamp posts that lined the street. She left her block, moving to the next one down where the small businesses, bars and restaurants started popping up. Approaching The Central, Sylvia could see lines of people both entering and exiting the doorway. It was a busy night for barcrawlers, apparently.
She showed her ID at the door and pressed her way inside through the crowded entrance way. Looking to the main bar, Sylvia spied Gwen turned around, her blonde ponytail flicking to the side as she looked for fresh glasses. The chairs at the bar were all taken, but as Sylvia came in someone was just leaving their seat. She quickly moved to claim it, skidding into the chair just as Gwen turned around and smiled a beaming smile.
“Yes! There you are!” she said, voice loud over the establishment’s music.
“Good to be here,” Sylvia grinned back.
“Yeah, good to drink here too,” said Gwen. “Want your favorite?”
Sylvia nodded, and seconds later, before she even had her jacket off, Gwen scooted her a gin and tonic with lime.
“Busy night,” observed Sylvia, scanning the room. She searched through the tables, all full of friends talking, laughing, snacking and drinking.
“And who are you looking for?” Gwen asked slyly. “A certain magic woman perhaps?”
“You were the one who bated me here with that promise.” Sylvia playfully snapped back, blushing the tiniest bit. “Did she leave already?”
Gwen just looked to the left of Sylvia, widening her eyes and rolling her lips in as an English accented voice to the side said, “No, she’s decided to stay, in fact.”
Sylvia turned to see a young woman leaning on the bar next to her. She had short, mousy brown hair, shaved close to the scalp on one side. A thin face with a fine jawline held eyes of pure, pure blue. The girl smirked a coy, half smile and Sylvia saw cute dimples dip in her cheeks. She was petite with a gorgeous figure and was dressed in clothes that looked like they were maybe 40 years too old and threadbare. But she made the thrift store style look cool, intriguing really. One of the sleeves of her button up blouse was torn from the shoulder seam to just above the elbow, perhaps intentionally, perhaps not, exposing her upper arm and the angular lines of a runic tattoo.
“You must be Sylvia. Your friend has told me a lot about you,” the woman said, her British accent drawing Sylvia in and making her flush more than she would have normally. “She says you’ve always wanted to be a Witch.”
“Gwen!” said Sylvia, glaring at her friend who was suddenly and conveniently busy behind the bar, “is a bit of an over-sharer.”
The young woman raised up a wineglass and took a sip of red wine then set her glass on the counter top and leaned in closer to Sylvia.
“I’m Rochelle,” she said, with their elbows bumped together, “and I’d love to hear about it.” Sylvia could smell the wine in the glass, or maybe on Rochelle’s tongue, floral, deep, sweetly oaken.
“Hear about what?”
“All of it,” she said. “You. What you want. Why you want it.” Rochelle studied Sylvia’s face. “I’ve got a lot I could tell you,” she said. Her fingernail lightly tapped against the side of her glass. “If you mean it.”
“Mean what?” asked Sylvia. It was noisy all around them, but they had taken their voices lower. Rochelle continued gazing into Sylvia’s eyes, seeming to look past the surface of them, past the turning, working mind that saw out of them and into somewhere more intimate.
Sylvia suddenly shivered, not with cold, but that was the closest sensation she knew to compare the feeling to. She broke eye contact with Rochelle and looked down at the counter. Her hands were giving off the slightest shake as she raised her drink to her lips and took a sip. As she set her glass down, Rochelle put a hand over hers. Her fingers wrapped around Sylvia’s palm in reassurance, she felt steadied.
As soon as Sylvia looked back to Rochelle, she was met with a kind smile.
“Do you believe in the Arcane?” Rochelle asked simply.
“I…I…” stuttered Sylvia. What was this? Any other person asking this question she would have dismissed immediately. But there was something about the presence of Rochelle, some uncanny rightness, some truthfulness about her.
“Yes. I believe in it,” Sylvia said, scarcely brave enough to admit this to herself, let alone someone she had just met. She didn’t think she could keep going. She did though. “I’ve never seen it. Never seen a person who used it. But I believe in it.”
“Ah,” whispered Rochelle, smiling wide. She had very white, even teeth. “That’s good, Sylvia. That’s very good. You just made your first step.”
“It takes a lot to admit something like that for the first time,” continued Rochelle, “I’m proud of you.” She raised her left hand up just above the counter and held it a few inches above the rim of Sylvia’s glass. Her right hand was still softly grasping Sylvia’s.
“You aren’t mistaken,” Rochelle said, and flicked her azure eyes to Sylvia’s drink. The ice and lime floating inside started moving, swirling around in the glass as Rochelle kept her hand hovering above. Nothing was touching the glass.
Sylvia gasped, watching the spinning in her drink, the green rind of the lime smearing and blurring in her vision as it rounded the glass.
Suddenly, a single, small piece of ice flew up from the others and levitated between their faces. Sylvia studied it intently, then saw that Rochelle was watching her expression. They were only inches apart from one another, leaning in together among the cramped bar. The sliver of ice moved away from Sylvia, toward Rochelle, slowly being attracted to the Witch’s lips. Rochelle opened her mouth as the ice approached her and let it come to rest delicately on her pink tongue. She closed her mouth and said nothing, only looking at Sylvia expectantly.
“I want…” began Sylvia, voice trembling, not sure of how to finish her sentence. She wanted so many things at that moment.
“I want to be a Witch,” she fiercely whispered to Rochelle.
Rochelle inhaled, smiling as she did. She paused for an intense five seconds, then answered, “Good.”
For the next hour, Rochelle and Sylvia were locked in conversation. They had moved from the bartop to a small, two person table in one of the side alcoves. Sylvia’s questions had come spilling out. Some of Rochelle’s answers let Sylvia form a foundation to plant herself on in this newly revealed reality, but some only led to more questions.
As they enjoyed each other’s company and a few rounds of drinks, Rochelle was open and eager to share answers about what Witches could do or the different kinds of magic there were to master. She even explained that Sylvia’s first move after becoming a Witch should be to join the Coven that Rochelle belonged in. But she wouldn’t reply to Sylvia’s most pressing question:
“How do I become a Witch?”
“I’m sorry, Sylvia, you wouldn’t want me to answer that. There are rules,” she said for the third time as Sylvia asked again.
“Rules from the Coven?” Sylvia probed. “Maybe I don’t need them if they keep their members from helping me.”
“It’s not like that,” Rochelle sighed, looking exasperated. “It isn’t a rule from the Coven or a rule that anyone made at all. It’s more fundamental. Please just believe that I’m trying to help you when I don’t answer.”
“You can tell me all about being a Witch,” began Sylvia, “you can tell me about your secret Coven, you can even prove to me the existence of real Magic, but you can’t tell me how to become a Witch!?”
Rochelle weathered Sylvia’s frustration, taking a sip of her wine. She looked sympathetic as she replied.
“I couldn’t have summed up the situation any more succinctly than that, love.”
The two women stared at each other. Sylvia crossed her arms and hardened her face, Rochelle looked back, impassive, then broke the silence.
“I think I really like you, so please don’t be angry with me,” she said plainly.
Sylvia blinked, her posture relaxing noticeably as Rochelle’s confession disarmed her.
“I…like you too,” Sylvia said quietly. “I’m starting to get it, I think,” she began again after her words hung in the air between them. “You want me to do this on my own. A person can only become a Witch if they seek it out themselves? No one can tell them how to do it?”
Rochelle was still and silent. A perfect poker face.
“If you told me a way to get magic, it wouldn’t work?” asked Sylvia, and Rochelle remained motionless, only looking back at her.
“Even if you told me that I had to do it alone it wouldn’t work,” Sylvia said, more to herself than to Rochelle, who took a drink of wine and casually observed the room.
“I’ll figure it out on my own,” declared Sylvia. As soon as she said this, Rochelle broke her impassivity and smiled in relief.
“Wonderful, now I can stop walking on eggshells, afraid I was going to ruin it for you,” Rochelle said, becoming her open, kind self once again. “You have to make the pact with yourself. Now that you have, you know what you need to do.”
“You are going to love it, Sylvia. The whole world opens when you get your power. It’s like you gain another set of senses. Arcane versions of sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch. It lets you do incredible things, even without casting proper spells.”
Sylvia leaned forward, intrigued, chin resting on her hands.
“What can you sense right now?” she asked.
“Well, there’s you, of course,” Rochelle said, her mouth half twisting to a smile. “You’ve got quite the aura blazing away right now.” She turned in her chair, leaning back slightly and scanning the room full of people.
“There’s energy flying all over the place when people are having fun, bonding, friendships and flirtations getting stronger.” Rochelle came back around and looked over Sylvia’s shoulder to the table nearest them. She gave a sudden look of interest.
“Now that’s something,” she muttered, studying the couple who sat there. The man and woman had been sitting before Sylvia and Rochelle arrived. They were clearly a couple, young, attractive, in the prime of life, their easily flowing conversation and comfortable body language showed off intimacy.
“Something I can tell, for example,” Rochelle said, “that man and woman are a strong couple, of course, but there’s something else they are throwing off. In the back of their minds they’re both wishing for the same thing.”
“What are they wishing for?”
“I can’t paint a picture for you, it’s more like I can see two vibrations waving at the exact same frequency. It’s not something reachable they want, and it’s not something they’re thinking about consciously right now. It’s more like, a fantasy.”
Rochelle stopped then and her cheeks reddened.
“Yes. That’s actually exactly what it is. They each have the same fantasy but have never told each other.” Rochelle then sighed, looking a twinge sad.
“You mean a sexual fantasy?” asked Sylvia.
“That’s what I’d put my money on,” Rochelle nodded. “And they’re fine. Totally happy. But it seems so unfair that they both would love this fantasy to happen but it won’t. I don’t know what it is, but they way they hold it, it’s something impossible.”
Sylvia looked at Rochelle with raised eyebrows and said, “Unless someone were to grant their wish.”
Rochelle smirked and then took a swig of wine, emptying her glass. She stood up and winked at Sylvia, then walked toward the couple’s table. As she passed their table she turned and started to walk a slow circle around them.
The couple didn’t notice Rochelle as she made one, two, three complete passes around them, making light hand gestures in the direction of the man and woman each time she circled.
She came back to Sylvia at the table, smiling.
“You did it?” asked Sylvia. “You made it so it would happen?”
“My spell was to make their mutual fantasy possible. It’s up to them now.” Rochelle looked at her now empty glass on the table, Sylvia’s almost empty as well.
“Fancy another drink?”
“Actually,” Sylvia said, “I think I’m ready to get out of here.”
She stood up and kissed Rochelle, whose lips parted in surprise. And then Sylvia was being kissed back, getting lost in the gentle closeness of Rochelle’s mouth and breath. She tasted just like Sylvia had imagined. Floral, deep, sweetly oaken.
Sylvia led the young Witch out of the bar and back to her apartment. After they entered the building and climbed the stairs they came to Sylvia’s door. She ran her hand along Rochelle’s arm and kissed her again before unlocking the door and pushing it open. Sylvia turned to her and lightly touched her upper back.
“Come on in,” she said.
“Okay then,” smiled Rochelle, and they walked inside.
Sylvia shut and locked the door. Rochelle went a few steps in and observed the small living room, then she caught Sylvia’s hungry gaze as she came to her. They pressed into each other, their lips meeting in sweetness. Sylvia brought her hands up and held the sides of Rochelle’s face as they kissed, drew breath and kissed again. Rochelle’s arms were wrapped around Sylvia’s waist, pulling her nice and tight. She was about half a head shorter than Sylvia, her face tilting up in Sylvia’s hands and kissing her back energetically.
Sylvia moved her hands to comb them through Rochelle’s hair. The left side slipping like silk between her fingers, the right side feeling like a hundred thousand brush bristles as her hand slid over the section of her hair that was buzzed short.
They swayed and bumped into the couch, Rochelle leaned partially against it as Sylvia leaned against her. Their legs were overlapping. Sylvia felt one of Rochelle’s legs in between hers and hugged it with her own. Rochelle touched the smooth arch of Sylvia’s back, running her hands up and down her spine.
Their kisses were deepening, breathing growing into gasping as their tongues delicately explored. Sylvia kept her lips locked on Rochelle but pushed her body back slightly. Her hands then steadily slid down Rochelle’s neck, over her collar bones, down to the roundness of her breasts, past them to her flat stomach, then back up again to cup the Witch’s chest gently.
Rochelle sighed as Sylvia felt her body, her own hands moving from the young woman’s back to her hips, thumbs feeling the front of Sylvia’s shorts and the bumps of her hip bones beneath.
Sylvia set about kissing Rochelle’s neck, going tenderly, finding the different spots that Rochelle was sensitive in, particularly the underside corner of her jaw, the hollows of her clavicle, and where her shoulder began.
Rochelle squirmed in a slow, pleased fashion as Sylvia kissed her, hooking one arm around Sylvia’s shoulder, the other feeling the side of Sylvia’s body, going from her waist to the sides of her bra. She took advantage of the open sided shirt which Sylvia wore, hand trailing over warm skin and the lace of the bra where it lay.
Starting to kiss each other again, Sylvia began working the buttons of Rochelle’s blouse open. Halfway down, Rochelle lifted Sylvia’s own top off and ran her hands up and down Sylvia’s beautiful body. The silver necklace she had put on before going out had stayed around her neck as Rochelle had removed her shirt, and now it fell and tucked in Sylvia’s cleavage, catching the light as it tumbled.
Sylvia finished undoing Rochelle’s buttons and stripped the blouse off. Rochelle was wearing a pretty red bra underneath. Her bust seemed a little larger than average for her petite frame and her breasts were held up enticingly by the full undergarment. Sylvia bent to kiss Rochelle’s inviting cleavage, and as she did she felt Rochelle start squeezing her ass, a hand occasionally dipping lower to touch the sensitive area of her upper thigh.
Pulling back for a moment, Sylvia knelt and started undoing the laces of Rochelle’s shoes, getting them off quickly. She then stood up and leaned against the back of the couch herself, raising a foot to Rochelle who helped her out of her boots. She sidled back towards Rochelle and kissed her again, one hand grasping a breast, the other settling between the Witch’s legs.
Rochelle responded by grabbing the top of Sylvia’s shorts and tugging her closer. She began undoing the line of buttons that fastened the shorts, getting them unclasped deftly. She worked Sylvia’s pants off, then peeled down the tight leggings to the knees. Sylvia giggled and finished removing the leggings herself, standing on one foot then the other.
In just her bra and panties now, Sylvia knelt again in front of Rochelle and started undoing the button and zipper of Rochelle’s old jeans. She pulled down on each pant leg and Rochelle helped her by wiggling out of the tight pants. As the jeans came off, Sylvia planted slow kisses against Rochelle’s lower belly, just above her panties, down across her hips, and all over her thighs.
Sylvia’s kisses traveled back up Rochelle’s body as she raised herself to the height of Rochelle’s bra. She reached behind Rochelle’s back and unclasped it, then slid each strap off its shoulder. She watched one fall in front of the tattoo on Rochelle’s upper arm as the Witch removed her arms from the loops of her undone bra. Her gorgeously perfect tits drew in Sylvia’s mouth like a magnet. Her sensitive skin and nipples got the attention they craved as Sylvia licked and sucked at them passionately. Rochelle’s nipples were a bright pink and were pointed like tiny peaks. Already stiff, they hardened further as Sylvia tended to them, listening to Rochelle’s sighs and moans.
She also placed a hand back between Rochelle’s legs, feeling the heat coming from just behind the thin layer of her panties. She cupped and rubbed at her, then slipped her fingers inside her panties and caressed Rochelle’s wet pussy.
“Ooooh, oh yeah,” moaned Rochelle at the feeling, her hips thrusting forward the tiniest amount as Sylvia’s fingers stroked at her clit. Rochelle gripped the back of the couch with both hands as Sylvia stopped kissing her tits, looked down, and pulled her panties completely off. The young woman brought her face to the Witch’s hot opening and started kissing and licking, lips so soft, her tongue so skilled, delicate and gentle one moment, forceful and strong the next, learning Rochelle’s body and what she responded to the most.
“Fuck!” Rochelle gasped. “Oh, White Moon, that’s good!”
Sylvia looked up at her and asked, “Is there a whole set of Witch vocab I’m going to have to learn or something?”
Rochelle let out a half laugh, half gasp. “Just keep going, you vixen,” she said and put a hand on the back of Sylvia’s head as she licked at her pussy some more.
On her knees, Sylvia licked and kissed at Rochelle’s clit for a few seconds more, then started rubbing with her fingers as well and slipped her middle finger upwards inside of Rochelle’s pussy.
“Oh, yes! That feels great, Sylvia,” Rochelle said, her eyes shut tight. Sylvia traced another finger around Rochelle’s opening.
“You want more?” she asked sweetly, her index finger gently starting to probe in.
“Yeah, do it!” Rochelle said and moaned higher as Sylvia started finger fucking her with her pointer and middle fingers, all the while working her mouth around her stiff, soaking wet bud.
“Uh, yes! That’s it! Like that! Yeah!” Rochelle started vocalizing louder as Sylvia played her body. For the next few minutes, Rochelle moaned and cried out as she was brought higher and higher in pleasure. Her legs lost strength, trembling as she leaned against the couch with Sylvia beneath her.
“Ah! I’m nearly there,” Rochelle shouted as Sylvia thrust and curled her fingers inside of her. “Fuck! Ah! Ah! Ah!”
Sylvia held her technique steady, giving Rochelle exactly what she needed to push past any barriers and cum hard.
“Oh, Syl! Yes!” she wailed and her legs hugged Sylvia’s body, trapping her head tightly within her thighs as she came.
“AAAAH!” Rochelle burst out, then, “Oh! Oh! Uhhhh!”
She shook and whimpered as her orgasm rolled through her, Sylvia’s mouth still held fast against her pussy by the vice-like grip of her legs. Gradually, she let go, her breathing slowing.
She leaned forward off the couch with shaky legs as Sylvia stood up and gently stroked her face, smiling. Rochelle beamed back and leaned in, kissing Sylvia and throwing her arms around her shoulders.
Sylvia broke the kiss by backing away. Behind her was the open doorway to her bedroom and she walked backwards into it without looking, slow and sultry.
“Come on in here, babe,” said Sylvia seductively, holding her hand out for Rochelle to take. She led the Witch into her room, turning on a lamp for a low light and laid back invitingly on her bed. Rochelle came down on top of her, kissing Sylvia deeper with every second that passed.
“Get me naked,” Sylvia told Rochelle, who sat up and took her hands. Rochelle pulled Sylvia to a sitting position and ran her hands over the front of her bra, then the back. She unclasped it and pulled it from Sylvia’s body, tossing it to the side where it fluttered through the air.
Sylvia’s tits stood out as she proudly thrust her chest forward, hypnotizing Rochelle. Her breasts were absolutely alluring, her light brown nipples hard at the front of her full and bouncy rack. The silver chain and pendant charm of her necklace only enhanced the pull of attraction for Rochelle as it draped over a breast, accentuating its curves.
Leaning in to taste, Rochelle took one breast, then the other in her mouth, sucking gently. She grabbed both tits at once and pressed them together, forcing Sylvia’s nipples close to touching to suck on them in one go.
“Mmm, that’s nice,” she cooed as Rochelle buried her face, then she giggled, shaking her tits with a little shimmy as they got played with.
“You can bite on them if you want,” suggested Sylvia. “I really like that.”
Rochelle moaned appreciatively and started using her teeth, grazing and biting at Sylvia’s tits and nipples.
Crying out in sexy joy at the sensation, Sylvia rolled and moved her body, grinding against the bed and against Rochelle.
“I want your mouth on me,” she said breathing hard, and thrust her hips up suggestively. Rochelle clamped a nipple in her mouth one last time and pulled away, stretching the sensitive nub and lifting Sylvia’s breast up until she was too far and it popped from her mouth. She scooted down the bed and quickly took Sylvia’s panties off, then leaned down and started eating her out like she was starving.
“Oh yeah, that’s good, baby. That’s a good little Witch,” moaned Sylvia as Rochelle lapped at her soaking cleft, eager to please. For long, sensual minutes, she worked away at her clit, circling it, moving up and down as Sylvia laid back and played with her own tits. Rochelle would stroke the inside of Sylvia’s thighs, then lightly scratch with her nails and make Sylvia shudder. The stimulation was driving Sylvia crazy as she felt Rochelle’s fingers penetrate her and start moving inside.
“Oh yeah, really give it to me!” she demanded and Rochelle’s muffled affirmative “MmmHmm,” answered her. Fingers were pumping in and out of her snatch hard and fast, tongue and lips were stroking and batting her clit.
“Fuck yeah, babe! Gonna cum!” Sylvia managed to breathlessly shout and an instant later her body exploded in climax as she came hard and long.
She came back to the moment, Rochelle leaning over her and then settling beside her on the bed.
“How are you feeling?” asked Rochelle.
“Absolutely great, you?”
“Yeah?” asked Sylvia, smiling and looking at her new lover, taking in her body. God, Rochelle was so sexy reclined next to her. Legs crossed over hers, Rochelle’s tits were positioned attractively as she leaned sideways on an elbow. Her stomach smooth and flat with a beautiful dip of a belly button. A bit of her hair fell in front of one eye.
“Are you up for any more fun?” asked Sylvia hopefully as she leaned in and started kissing along Rochelle’s neck and chest.
“Aaah, well, you’re certainly doing great work at putting me in the mood,” squealed Rochelle as Sylvia kissed her and her hands started to roam.
“Do you like toys?” Sylvia asked naughtily and rolled over to her nightstand. She opened the bottom drawer and looked back at Rochelle, crooking a finger to come see what was inside. Rochelle made her way across the bed next to Sylvia, admiring her ass on the way. Inside the drawer was a modest collection of dildos and vibrators. Sylvia gave Rochelle a wink.
“Pick one out and I’ll use it on you,” she told Rochelle.
“Oh,” she said as she looked at the instruments, then eagerly chose a
rubbery, medium sized coral colored dildo with a few ridges near the tip.
“Good choice,” said Sylvia holding out her hand for the toy. Rochelle offered it to her.
“Now a final decision,” continued Sylvia digging in the back of the drawer. Her hand emerged holding onto a harness of black straps and buckles.
“Want me to do you hand powered…or strap-on?” asked Sylvia, holding the straps in one hand and the toy in the other, moving them up and down like she was mock weighing the choices on a scale.
Rochelle gazed wide eyed at the straps, then looked Sylvia in the eyes and said meekly, “Strap-on.”
Sylvia smirked and said, “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Standing at the bedside and stepping into the straps, Sylvia pulled up the contraption and buckled it, then attached the dildo to the small, flat panel on the front. Rochelle crawled back to the middle of the bed, stopping on her stomach and raised her butt up into the air, her upper body low to the mattress, arms stretching out far in front of her.
Sylvia climbed behind her and began feeling Rochelle’s legs and ass, rubbing all over her lower body. She started stroking Rochelle’s pussy from behind, her other hand gently petting her back and her ass.
Moving a few inches forward, Sylvia introduced her strap-on to Rochelle’s lower lips, sliding across, pushing, tapping lightly. She teased her for minutes until Rochelle was moaning in anticipation. Then she pushed her way in.
“Oohh, fuck,” sighed Rochelle in relief as Sylvia finally penetrated her. She started thrusting into her pussy in small amounts, withdrawing and then inserting more until Rochelle was enjoying the whole length of her toy.
“I bet that feels good, huh?” said Sylvia as she grabbed the Witch’s hips and guided her along the shaft.
“Ye- yes,” breathed Rochelle. “It’s really nice!”
“How do you want it next?” asked Sylvia.
“Mmm, keep fucking me like this,” said Rochelle. “Then speed up and do me fast.”
Sylvia worked Rochelle’s pussy with the strap-on, thrusting in and out, tending to her and taking care of her. As Rochelle’s moans became longer, Sylvia started to increase the speed of her hips. She kept Rochelle pleasured, tempo quickening by degrees until she was being fucked by Sylvia at an urgent pace. Rochelle’s breasts were swinging under her, brushing along the sheets of the bed. Sylvia’s own tits bounced while she drove her hips forward again and again, absolutely loving the sights and sounds Rochelle was providing.
As their fucking grew wilder, Slyvia was struck with a novel idea.
“Rochelle?” she started to ask and the short haired woman looked back at her.
“Would you happen to know any sexy spells?”
Still being fucked, Rochelle smiled, nodded, and slid her right hand down the sheets. She touched her pussy for a few moments, then brought her hand up and put her middle and ring fingers in her mouth. With her own wetness and saliva on her fingers, she streaked her wet fingers down her other palm.
Suddenly there were tiny popping sounds all around them, like the crackling of wood in a campfire. Hundreds of violet sparks appeared around the two women then zoomed in like fireflies, settling atop Sylvia and Rochelle’s skin. The lights dusted over them, concentrating their numbers over their most responsive areas, between their legs, across their chests and necks, their scalps, their lips, their thighs, upper arms and shoulders.
Where each bit of smoldering magic touched her, Sylvia felt a curious sensation on her skin. It felt like the air had turned fizzy like carbonated soda, with thousands of microbubbles swirling around, brushing and popping on her skin. The feeling of being enveloped by a gentle cyclone of bubbles took Sylvia’s breath away.
She thrust faster for Rochelle as the purple lights on her skin stimulated her body everywhere at once. The glowing around her breasts and her pussy was much brighter where the lights gathered in greater density, and their effects were stronger, feeling more like vibration. Sylvia felt the impending orgasm building within herself, listening to Rochelle be teased by the magic the same way. They rocked into each other for a blissful few minutes, covered and glowing beautifully. Finally crying out together in release, they came.
After, the two lay together, spooning under the covers. Sylvia had let Rochelle borrow some pajamas and they now held each other, drifting to sleep in the lateness of the night.
In the morning, Sylvia woke Rochelle with a kiss on the neck and went to the kitchen to make some breakfast. The two young women chatted and laughed as they spent the morning together, already so comfortable in the other’s company.
They saw each other regularly over the next month, spending happy days and hot nights together. Sylvia always asked a variety of questions, how certain spells worked, how to find accurate information on Arcane rituals. She was slowly forming her own plan for how to obtain her own magic power. She kept her questions to Rochelle miscellaneous, never following a train of thought directly. Some questions were merely topics she was curious about, but some were tied to her plan imperatively. Rochelle was happy to answer them all.
“Once you claim your magic,” Rochelle said in one of their early days, “the nearest Coven, mine, will know. They will send a Witch to you with an invitation. When you come to us, the Head Witch will have a task for you. You then complete the favor and get to join. You’ll be among women like you, strong, ambitious. We do much to alter the state of the world in our favor.”
Sylvia spent the month researching the occult. From Rochelle’s guidance, she knew she needed an item with at least a tiny bit of magic imbued in it to start any ritual that would grant her power. That much was easy she realized one day. She had found a single hair from Rochelle on her pillow after their first night together and kept it. The residual magic in the Witch’s hair would jump start the ritual and Sylvia had further ideas on how to sustain it. It was hours and hours of painstaking research, checking, and double checking before Sylvia was confident. There couldn’t be any mistake in her preparations. She would be gambling with her very body, maybe her life.
On the next night she was alone, Rochelle busy with an errand from the Coven, Sylvia performed the ritual. She cleared all the furniture and rugs from her living room, leaving it an open space. For hours, she painted on the floor by candlelight, runes and symbols in combinations as she created a summoning circle. She further enhanced it as the night progressed, marking wards and fields of containment. Her work on the circle finally ended and she started painting marks on her own body until script and shapes covered her forearms from elbow to wrist.
It was the early hours of the morning when she was finally satisfied with her work. She placed a small wooden box outside the circle next to her and the tiny bottle that held Rochelle’s hair in one of the nodes of the circle. The magic of her lover’s hair would act as a battery for the ritual, which would hopefully become self sustaining as it progressed and the initial energy ran out.
Sylvia braced herself, uncorked the bottle, and tipped it upside down. The hair dropped out onto the symbol she had specifically made for it. The instant it touched the symbol there was a crackling of energy. A portal of nothingness opened momentarily in the center of the circle. Then literally, not figuratively, Hell broke loose.
An inhuman roaring assaulted Sylvia as something immediately emerged from the portal. She was ready, smearing one of the symbols in front of her with more paint, rendering it inert. The portal blinked out of existence, but what had come through was left behind.
The thing that was not from this world charged forward, but only made it one step before it collided with a barrier, rebounding and then hitting a wall of force behind it as well. With each impact, the paint on the floor pulsed with light and Sylvia triumphantly clenched her fists. She had designed the circle to absorb whatever force was expended in it, the paint was a special, hand-made concoction containing ingredients used in magical conduits. The structure of the summoning circle as well as the paint it was sketched with made it a perfect prison to summon a demon, which was exactly what Sylvia had achieved. The more it hammered away and strained against its bonds, the stronger the magical container would become.
Sylvia remained crouched as the thing in the room with her struck at the invisible walls between them, she watched it and then touched another symbol in front of her as the Demon rebelled against the circle. The arms and legs of it suddenly snapped straight out and it was held in the air in an X shape, faint beams of pale green power cuffing its limbs securely. Sylvia stood up and studied her prisoner.
The Demon was man shaped with dark green skin. He had red-orange, reptilian eyes and fangs instead of teeth. Thin and muscular, he strained against his bonds, but they were clearly too strong for him to break, and any more force he used would be soaked up by the circle and reapplied against him. He growled and snarled at Sylvia with hate in his face. If he eventually stopped struggling, yes, the circle would fail, but Sylvia didn’t plan on the Demon being here that long.
Sylvia opened the wooden box and took out the dozen extra large needles that were inside. Each needle was four inches long had a three foot long piece of thread bound to its eyelet. They were tied together in pairs of two, a thread with a needle tied to each end. She held her breath and punctured the underside of her left wrist with three of the needles, parallel under the skin, the threaded ends pointing to her hand. She turned her arm and inserted three more needles on the top of her wrist, each one was perfectly in place amid the Arcane markings she had drawn on her arm.
She looked back at her Demon prisoner and approached him, the threads from her arm dangling down, the attached needles at the ends swinging freely. Usually, introducing any living thing or foreign object to a magic circle once it has been activated would completely dissipate it, but Sylvia had planned every step of this. The custom creation of her circle and the markings on her arms allowed Sylvia to move without consequence across the magical barriers.
She walked straight in front of the Demon and stared it down.
“You’ve got something I need,” she said to it. “I want magic, and I’m going to take it from you.”
The Demon roared out, sounding like a cross between an aggressively barking dog and a dragon.
“There’s no need to be hostile,” said Sylvia, looking up at the Demon where it hung suspended a few inches off the ground. She started unbuttoning the over sized shirt she was wearing with her right hand, her legs were bare and naked in the flickering light. The Demon watched her, no longer growling.
“We could just trade,” Sylvia told it, voice dripping like honey as she let her shirt fall. She was nude underneath.
Sylvia glanced between the Demon’s legs as what was there started to go erect. It wasn’t like a man’s cock. No, it had overlapping ridges and a pointed tip like an arrowhead. Sylvia’s eyes widened as his cock hardened to a huge size, then she smirked and stepped even closer to the Demon. She stroked the underside of his member from base to tip with just one finger, extremely slowly. He throbbed in response, hardening completely and pointing straight up.
“So we have a deal?” she asked him. “I give you pleasure, I take what I need from you, then I send you back where you came from?”
He exhaled heavily through his nostrils and gave a low affirmative growl.
“Good boy,” said Sylvia softly, and took his large, demonic cock in her hand. She started moving up and down slowly, squeezing his hardness. Opening her mouth and sticking her tongue out, she let a strand of her saliva drip out and run down his cock where she rubbed it across its skin, lubricating her strokes. She began rubbing his cock across her tits, flicking her nipples with his shaft, then placed his cock between her breasts and cradled it there. He moaned in delight.
Taking advantage of his distraction, Sylvia gathered up the six needles dangling from her left arm. She held the pointed ends all together then jabbed them deep into the Demon’s chest, right over his heart.
He screamed in pain and pulled at his bonds, looking at the thin pieces of metal protruding from his chest, then looking down at Sylvia with surprise.
“Shh, shh, shh,” Sylvia said, caressing his chest with her left hand while her right went back to his inhuman cock. “It’s okay, I promise. Just be a good little Demon and stay there.”
He soon forgot his pain as Sylvia expertly worked his large cock, fingers stimulating the ridges of his shaft. After a few moments he was moaning contentedly again.
Sylvia dropped his cock and it tapped against her torso. She pointed his dick down at her crotch and began grinding herself against it. The young woman’s clit met the Demon’s supernatural cock and she began to moan herself. Sylvia didn’t allow herself to close her eyes. The Demon was secure, yes, but she still knew that there was the possibility it could break free if the spell failed. She would have to work fast before that happened and her prisoner would be free, probably raping and killing her in vengeance for his imprisonment.
She continued grinding her pussy against the cock of the Demon, holding his waist to support herself. As her pleasure grew, Sylvia noticed something happening in front of her. The needles in the Demon’s chest started to glow with a hot, orange light. The magic energy then sped down the six threads and into the needles inserted into her own arm. It was like fire going into her veins as the points glowed under her skin and the magic seeped inside her. She screamed in agony. The Arcane symbols painted on her arms began emitting white light. As soon as the marks on her arms awakened, the fiery pain turned to pure pleasure. It was like taking a drink after being without water for days. Her body absorbed the power greedily and she could feel it coursing through every bit of her.
Suddenly, the stimulation too much, she felt her pussy cum without warning. She yelped in surprise and fell backwards. As she fell to the ground she instinctively grasped out for something to hold on to and her hands grabbed at the glowing threads hanging from the Demon’s chest, yanking them out.
The Demon stared down at her and pulled at his magical shackles. Sylvia saw the pale light around one of his wrists start to flicker. Something was wrong, some part of the spell dangerously close to failing. She pulled the needles out of her arm and scrambled out of the circle on her hands and knees. Frantically taking her paint and brush, she went to wipe out the first of the signs that would send the Demon back to Hell. She activated one glyph and the portal opened again, another brushstroke and the portal began pulling the Demon in. She wiped out the next symbol and the magical bonds holding the Demon’s limbs vanished. With nothing tethering him to the mortal world any longer, he was swallowed up into the abyss of the portal.
Sylvia smeared over the final sign in the sequence and the portal vanished. She was alone again. She breathed out shakily. That had been too close, but…it had worked! She absorbed the magic from the Demon, claimed it, made it her own.
She stood up and closed her eyes, willing herself into calmness and focus. Magic was swirling like a flood and flashing like lightning inside her very soul.
She was a Witch. She was a fucking Witch!
The sun was rising as Sylvia finished putting her living room back together. The magic paint of the summoning circle had been easy. Her first ever self-powered spell had been to wipe away the markings, leaving the floor clean as it had been before. She didn’t know of any way to move furniture with magic however, and had spent some time setting the apartment back to rights. When she finished the work, she took a refreshing shower and put a bandage over the puncture marks on her left wrist, then climbed into bed. She slept all day.
Who she finally woke up to was the person she most wanted to see.
“Rochelle!” Sylvia exclaimed with breathless delight as she opened her eyes in the early evening and saw her lover sitting on the edge of her bed.
“I did it!” she told her, “I took my power, I’m a Witch!”
Rochelle leaned down to hug her. “I know, Syl,” she said as they embraced. “Everyone in the Coven has felt you awaken. They sent me to welcome you.”
“I’m so happy to see, you. So happy it worked,” said Sylvia with tears of happiness welling up.
“Me too,” answered Rochelle. “I knew you could do it.” She leaned back from the hug and then kissed her for a good, long while.
“When do we go to the Coven?” asked Sylvia after they parted.
“Tonight, after midnight,” Rochelle told her.
“So what you’re saying is we have some time to kill?” grinned Sylvia, and pulled her lover to her in celebration.