Witch Hunter (25 page)

When the penetration did eventually come it made her whole body jerk. She was on her back again with her legs open and the witch between them, on her knees. Her eyes were closed. There were fingernails tracing lines down her inner thighs, all the way down the inside of her leg. Her ankle had been grasped and lifted. Then her big toe had been engulfed by that hot, soft mouth. It had been enough to make her gasp. She had felt a warm gush escape from her puss and had had to fight the urge to slide her finger up into it. As ever, the witch read her mind. With the toe still being gently sucked, suddenly one finger was sliding deep up inside her and she was crying out and arching up off the floor to meet it.

The finger swirled around inside her, just as she liked it. It curved up to feel for the sweet spot and Mimi found herself quickly on the verge of orgasm. Before she could take it the finger had slid free again and Mimi opened her eyes to see the witch sucking upon it, a wide smile spread across her face. She had pulled her dress up and open at the front to expose her own pristine pussy. God, for a taste of it! She was sitting herself down now, putting one leg over Mimi’s and sliding her hips forward so that their bare pussies could meet and kiss. Hers was as hot as a furnace, even hotter than Mimi’s own. It was so wet too, the slide of quim on quim electric. Briefly they were glued together. Mimi thought she could actually feel her lips being sucked in by the witch’s. Then their quims slid apart and Morgana was climbing on top again, so that they could each find a bare thigh to squash and grind their swollen clits against. It seemed to Mimi impossible to have such an intense feeling yet have nothing inside her.

She had the chance at last to hold and squeeze the witch’s perfect bottom. The skin was so smooth, the flesh so soft, it almost made her cry. She wanted to touch the beautiful little bum. She had seen the briefest flashes of it at the orgy, when Morgana had been fucking the girl so hard from behind that the sumptuous cheeks had come apart to give a glimpse of what lay between. It had been so tantalising that she had spent maybe an hour of her sleepless night just thinking about being
near
it, about being so close to this bottom to sense its pristine beauty in infinite detail. Even in her imagination she had barely been able to part the cheeks, the thought of what lay between them, of burying yourself in that soft, glorious gorge, being too much to bear. She wanted to give her Priestess the
demon’s pleasure
that she had given the Master last night, to see if she could thrill her as much as him. But this was no demon. This was a goddess.

Before she had a chance to gather her courage the witch was moving again. Mimi just lay with her eyes closed, feeling the wetness on her thigh left by her new lover, buzzing with the delight. The press came upon her body again but this time it was different. Breasts were squashed against her belly, arms were on her thighs, breath was on her wet puss. She opened her eyes and saw what she had already pieced together in her head. The rump came back and opened as it did so to reveal its hidden treasures and the witch’s gorgeous bare pussy was now right above Mimi’s face. The skin was like creamy flawless porcelain, thin and subtle, the lips pale pink and glistening moist.

Mimi pushed out her tongue tentatively, thinking that this puss needed to be treated with delicate reverence. She planned to give it the lightest of licks where the lips met. But her clit was suddenly sucked hard and in her shocked pleasure she jerked upwards and buried her tongue deep in the goddess, plunging into the pooled juice gathered there so that it flowed into her mouth and trickled down her chin. She wanted to continue gorging upon it, God knows she did, but the sensations in her own puss made it impossible.

Her legs had been raised so that she was completely open, her knees up either side of the witch’s body. Her clit had been engulfed and it felt every bit as swollen and sensitive as it had after she had drunk the potion the previous night. She thought the witch must be carrying traces of the same tonic in her mouth. It was the most intense sensation she could remember: the sucking and the tongue-tip flicks, whilst one finger stirred inside her. She wanted to respond in kind but got no respite to do so. All she could manage was to remember Morgana’s words and scrunch her three longest fingers together into a point and drive them up inside that peachy quim.

The witch moaned aloud but didn’t let up on her sucking one bit. Mimi was already coming again, another long-drawn-out climax that spread through her body, so much more enjoyable than one of those jerking, almost aching wracks that she had teased desperately from herself whenever she thought of this woman. Her fingers looked so rude and yet brilliant inside Morgana. And there was that tiny tantalising bum above it, waiting for its due attention.

The chance eluded her before she could act. The witch was off her and Mimi was being brought to her knees again to be kissed. She could taste her own juice on the witch’s tongue, magically sweeter than she knew it had ever been before. They broke off and the witch stared at her intently.

‘It is time,’ she said.

Time for what, to profess one’s love? Mimi still didn’t know if she could do it, not
honestly
. How does one even know? Physically she couldn’t now bear to be without this woman. If that was all that was being asked of her then she would close her eyes right now and let the blood be taken from her tingling clit. But if more was required, if she was made to look deeper, then her head would surely say: What about all the witchy nonsense, the worship of wines and potions, the bizarre dancing and ridiculous spells? And what about the desertion of everything she knew to immerse herself in a world that she had thought plainly odd and wrong every time she had considered it?

The witch had reached for the box and was flipping its two little clasps so that it could be opened. Mimi was going to have to die; that was it. To become one of them she would have to have the stake Morgana was about to reveal driven through her heart. The witch had talked of immortality and this was how it was to be gained, just like in the films. The box came open and there was the silver silk lining just as envisaged. But it was neither a sharp-pointed stake nor even a prized musical instrument. It was a beautiful smooth dildo in clear ruby glass, half the size again of a real prick, the shaft curving gracefully up to a prominent head that belled out and then tapered to a tip.

‘I’m going to have you in your bottom,’ Morgana whispered.

It was the single most exciting thing that Mimi had ever heard.

There was still no rushing. Everything was done with measured deliberation. The witch took out the dildo and the attached leather harness unfurled. When it was on and secured the witch stood with it close to Mimi’s face, so she could see it in all its glory, see the witch’s thighs through the clear glass because it was so flawless. She was given ample time to imagine it sliding up her virgin bum. The witch took out a small vial from its compartment within the box. She eased Mimi down onto all fours and spread oil from the vial over her back. The slick liquid was smoothed into her skin, still unhurriedly, even with the threat of the guard’s return. The whole of her back was covered, then her outer thighs and calves, although it was surely impossible for a vial so small to give out so much oil.

Finally her bottom was slowly covered, the lubrication massaged into her flesh with firmer motions, her slippery cheeks prised apart so that one single last drop could splash onto her anus to be gently smoothed in. The fingertip attention on her shy opening broke down some of her resistance and she could feel her muscles relenting. The oil had a very slight heat to it, just enough to add a tingle. Her hips were held and she could feel the slight pressure of the glass tip as it very gently began to open her up.

It was impossible to tell how long it took to take it all; maybe an hour, maybe only ten minutes. All Mimi knew was that she felt every rapturous tiny fraction of the penetration and it didn’t hurt at all, except only briefly, and that bit she adored as much as the rest. So slowly it went up her even though it was a glide, the smooth surface bringing alive every single neurone, seemingly one by one, so the pleasure just built and built. Despite this gradual opening, the last four or five inches were still driven home in one long quick slide, causing her to yell her uncontainable ecstasy. The final push saw her collapse forward and the witch went with her, keeping it buried all the way inside. Mimi lay on her front, her face in the mattress as the witch lay on top of her and used her hips to slide the glass cock in and out.

Mimi felt every bit as full, the penetration at least as deep as with the Master’s prick the night before, maybe even deeper. Perhaps it was because her bottom was so much the tighter passage, or possibly it was because being taken there was just so wonderfully rude and unique. She had felt the witch’s hand go underneath her from the start, moving down to cup her quim. Now she was being pinched, her clit trapped between its own protective folds as the pressure was applied and maintained. It felt like her little bud was pouring electric current.

She came from the outset and it just wouldn’t stop, the sensation carrying on and on along with the slow slide of the dildo in and out of her bum. All the while Mimi could feel the fizz on the skin of her ears and neck as the witch kissed and licked and nipped at it with her teeth. She was covered in goose bumps, all over her back and down her legs. Even the bottom of her feet felt like they had raised hairs upon them. Then the witch was whispering into her ear, telling her how pretty she was and the dirty things she wanted to do with her.

‘Say my name out loud and tell me what you want,’ Mimi heard her say, unless it was in her mind, just part of this beautiful surreal dream.

‘Mistress Morgana, I love you and want to be yours,’ Mimi gasped.

‘Next time you say that you have to mean it. I will come back later tonight and you will tell me again. Then you will prick your clitty and give me my drop of blood, and that will bind us together for all time.’

Mimi wanted to declare her love now, to find anything to pierce her throbbing clit so that she could bleed for her Mistress. The bliss was too much though. It was growing unstoppably inside, filling her up and threatening to burst her. Finally, mercifully, it came down behind her eyes like red velvet and she slipped off into unconsciousness.

When she came to she was dressed. The door was locked fast and the key removed. The candle flames had been doused and she could see back out into the dimness of the huge room. The same guard was there in his chair as before, reading his paper, looking up to sneer at her and remark, ‘Not long to go now.’

There was nothing to suggest the witch had ever been there, except the glow Mimi could feel in her crotch and bottom. She could remember her penetration exactly, way too accurately for it to have been a dream. Her behind didn’t feel sore or bruised, just hot and tingly; wonderfully fucked, in fact. She knew the witch would come again and this time she had to give herself. She tried to imagine ever having a better lover. She tried to think of any situation that could ever match this one with anyone else other than Morgana. She said the witch’s name over and over in her head, trying to convince herself that being with her was not ridiculous after all. She tried to tell herself that pleasure and hedonism were all you should seek in life and that nothing else mattered, not family or friends or working for a living. But her mind and body were exhausted and her eyes just wouldn’t stay open.

She awoke again with a start, blinking to make out the figure pressed to the cage. This time it was someone less welcome: Dominic. He was turning the key and opening the door. He was telling her she had to get out and go, quickly, that the guard would be back any second. Mimi was fuzzy-headed and not convinced she wanted to go anywhere. Morgana would be back soon to keep her safe and Dominic, the double-crossing bastard, was the one who had got her locked up in the first place, and therefore clearly not to be trusted.

‘He’s going to have you killed. I heard him say it! Even if you live through the hunt he will sell you for a whore. He is going to kill Gavin! You have to leave now and get the police!’

She could see in his eyes that this was no joke. He was pulling her up and dragging her out of the cage, hustling her on her sluggish legs towards the door. He led her down the corridors still babbling his apologies for having her discovered, re-asserting the need for her to get away so she could save Gavin – and herself, of course. Out past the kitchen they went, out to the secret entrance, before she felt herself belatedly trying to resist.

‘Morgana will stop him,’ she said, not knowing what evidence she had to back this.

‘No one can stop him, only you!’ he almost shouted, exasperated. ‘He is going to get rid of you and then Gavin. Then he is going to either get rid of the Priestess too, or leave her behind to pay for your murder. Either way, he is selling up and going, and you will be dead and I will never stand a chance of getting away from him again!’

Dominic was opening the trapdoor in the hut and dragging her up. It was like coming out of a cinema: the sudden daylight seemed incongruous. She had no idea what time it was, but thought it might be early evening. He was waving his arms, encouraging her to run, but her mind was ticking over, trying to work out what she had just heard, whether she was being tricked again. Finally her head was clearing.

‘What do you mean, he is selling up?’ she asked.

Dominic was trying to push her away but she stood firm, determined to get an answer.

‘He is selling the whole estate so that they can build a road through it. I’ve heard his phone conversations and seen the letters. The deal is already done. He’s going to get millions! He’s taking us all away and no doubt your body will be buried somewhere under the tarmac. If you don’t go now he’s going to find out I let you go and then he’s going to kill me too. Is that what you fucking well want?’

He almost screamed the last bit and she could see the sheer panic draining him of colour. She turned and ran. Her mind was working properly for the first time in a few days. She was calculating her route, retracing it mentally to where she had left her bike. Then she was working out the quickest, safest route off the estate. She couldn’t go home. She would have to go straight to the police, in town. That meant calling a cab from a pay phone and hiding until it arrived. She had no idea how long she had but at least her lungs were so far holding out.