Elbow Deep

“Is it really Thanksgiving if you’ve not been elbow deep in a turkey?” I grumbled, walking out of the shower, a big fluffy towel around my body, another wrapping my hair up.

“Sorry, Alli, what?” Corinne poked her head up from the open fridge door.

“At least I got to make pies. The crust came out so flaky - Thanks for sharing your grandpa’s pie recipe.” I leaned around the door and kissed her on the top of the head. 

Corinne fiddled a bit more, making room for the pies to cool without getting squished. She stood and pulled me into a hug. A long red curl had escaped her clip and tickled my face. Her green robe neatly tied at her waist, but open enough that my cheek rested comfortably on her chest. Sometimes being short has advantages. It made up for the fact that I would look like a hobbit amongst vikings during the holiday meal at her family’s place.

“I know you wanted to host,” Corinne grinned, “but this apartment is too small, even if all the people going were you sized.” As if to emphasize this she squatted down, lifted me up, and plopped me onto the counter. My ass nearly knocked the can of Crisco I’d forgotten to put away onto the floor..

“I just cleaned this place up!” I squawked, blushing and painting a fake frown across my face. “At least my family aren’t all giants like your family. It’s going to look like Frodo was the only one who made it to the Council of Elrond. Besides, I’m five feet, that’s taller than a hobbit!”

“Says the person who cooks like a hobbit. At least you don’t have hairy feet.” She balanced her hands on my knees and kissed me on the nose. “I’d still love you if you did, but just saying.” 

I wrapped my legs around her ass and pulled her against me. I reached up and pulled her head into a deep kiss. If she was going to try and fluster me I was going to try right back. Slipping a hand down her body, I insinuated it into her robe and grabbed an ass cheek. It fit perfectly into the little cleft at the top of her thigh.  

“What are you doing? We just cleaned up!” Her squawk was a rude imitation of mine. Even her grin was mocking. What a butt! 

“Good! I wouldn’t want to put my naked ass on the counter if it were covered in flour.” To emphasize this undid my towel, letting it pool around me. “At least I wasn’t making dirty jokes about Crisco the entire time baking was going on! Ugh!” 

“I’ve heard from some of the old guys I work with, it makes a good lubricant.” She retorted. 

“You trust old men on this?” I tried to sound sharp, but Corinne was now kissing my neck. I leaned into her attention, loving the feeling of her lips on my shower warmed skin. Each kiss and small bite sent tingles rushing across my neck and down my spine. Shivers of pleasure rippled across my body.

A groan of disappointment slipped from me when Corinne stopped playing with my neck. Opening my eyes I saw she was  holding the referenced can of vegetable shortening. I leaned to grab it, but she just held it at arm’s length above my head.

“That is for making pastries like your grampy used to make!” I grumbled at her. “Tasty and really bad for you, not… butt stuff!”

Corinne laughed and leaned back in to kiss me. “Oh I don’t know. Sounds like they found uses for it besides cooking.” She put a hand behind my back and pulled me in for another kiss. I heard the lid pop off the can, and when she broke the kiss a small dollop of the white grease was planted on my nose. 

“Ugh! why?” I used two fingers to clean the Crisco off my face then wiped it off on her arm. “So much for the shower!”

“Oh no, we have to shower again, whatever will we do? I’d better make the most of this.” She grinned down at me. 

Corinne’s free hand pressed against my chest, gently forcing me down until I was laid back on the counter top, the towel protecting me from the cold of the stone. That hand moved to play with one of my nipples, sending another warm shiver across my body. More groans escaped me, filled with pleasure and anticipation. She set down her prop and used that free hand to pry a leg away from her. I tried to sit up, but the size difference does not work in my favor. The hand on my chest had me pinned.

The hand holding my leg lifted it over Corinne’s shoulder. She bit me, just above my inner thigh, and walked more to my center from there. I tried to wiggle away, giggling and making noises of mock frustration and protest. Is it really trying to escape when you are also using your free leg to pull your lover closer?

When her lips touched my labia, I melted. Her breath was warm on my crotch and her tongue suffused me with pleasure. It stretched into me several times, pliable, textured, and strong. She snaked it in and out, and then switched to licking up and down my lips, almost reaching my click, but not giving me the satisfaction. 

“You tease,” I said, the words barely escaping my mouth between my breaths, “that’s just mean!”

“What? Not doing this?” She asked, giving one quick flick to my clit before returning her teasing attention to my sensitive folds and inner cunt. 

“You want more of that?” Corinne asked between licks.

“Yes, please!” This was almost a squeak.

“You only have to ask.” She said but didn’t change what she was doing to me.

“Oh my god, please just lick my clit!” I felt like I was going to shake myself to pieces. She carried me to an orgasmic edge and was holding me there with her tongue!

“As you wish.” That amazing tongue that had been so focussed on teasing brought all of its  focus to my clit. Bliss built inside me, a wave that grew and pulsed like a beacon before crashing through my body. I shuddered. My legs flexed, squeezing Corinne’s face against my pussy. She kept trying to lick me, but having her face fully squished against my bits made that difficult. Having to move her head so she could keep breathing didn’t help. Neither did the amused laughter that bubbled out of her

Corinne kissed her way up my body. Somehow the towel around my hair was still on. She untwisted it, making my dirty blonde hair plop onto the counter. That towel was used to clean my juices from her face. My girlfriend stopped and looked down at me, hair tumbling across the countertop, fresh sweat glistening across my body, and cum leaking from my pussy.

”Oops,” she said, laying her head on my stomach, “I made a mess.”“That’s…” I struggled to speak. “That’s fine. I’ll care about that in a minute. Don’t move, you feel really good right there.” Her body’s pressure and warmth leveled me. It was sweet, and comforting after she had tossed me around and used me like a plaything. 

There was a game I wanted to play with her. After a few more minutes I started to wiggle. “My turn.” I said.

“Your turn? I think you just got your turn.” Corinne lifted herself onto her forearms and moved so we were almost eye to eye. It was like she floated above me.  Sometimes I hate how much taller she is. Times like this I absolutely love it. 

“Fine, your turn! Whatever. Now, let me up and bend over the counter.” She made me wiggle out from under her. The towel I was laying on slid to the ground with me.

I pushed her over so her chest pressed against the counter. The lovely green robe she was wearing was still tied and draped down her body. Instead of opening it I lifted the hem up over her bottom and pulled it up until the belt got in the way. There was enough hanging free I could get it up Corinne’s shoulders.

“Hold this,” I said and put a corner into her hand. Corrine’s bare butt was waving like a flag, I bit it and made her squawk. She could make silly sounds too! 

I slid to my knees behind her. My hand traced its way up the inside of her leg, from knee to pussy. I kept rubbing her pussy lips, starting to slide fingers between them, coaxing little noises of pleasure from her. A sound of disappointment escaped her mouth the moment my fingers slid out of her pussy. That sound quickly became another moan when my tongue glided up her pussy to her ass and I started to rim her. Each hand supported my weight on one of her ass cheeks as I lifted myself a little off the ground to slide my tongue in and out of her ass, then lowered myself back to her clit. Corinne was getting close to cumming after several minutes of this. Her moans of pleasure were building to a crescendo. She was so delicious, and her moans made it hard to stop licking, but there was one thing I had to do before I could make her cum. I pulled my mouth back and bit one of her ass cheeks.  

“Really? Now? Is this revenge?” She stayed where she was, I’d slipped two fingers into her pussy. Gently fucking her with them gave enough incentive not to stand up. 

I leaned my head on her ass just long enough to say: “Maybe a little. I could do more, but I want to try out the Crisco. I know how much you like it when I use my strap-on your ass, and you have been talking about using Crisco as lube all day…”

She looked back at me, her mouth in a lopsided smile. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Open,” I said and slid the jar over to her with my free hand. 

She popped the lid off and slid it over to me. “Here’s to experimenting.

Feeling impatient, I took a large dollop of Crisco and deposited it at the top of her cheeks. Corinne whimpered about it being cold. I took a finger full of shortening, rubbed it around her ring to warm everything up, before inserting my pointer finger. I worked it in and out, knuckle by knuckle until I felt her start to relax. To help this along, and to add to her pleasure, I used the fingers on my other hand to caress her clit.

“Are you ready for finger number two?” I asked. She nodded and moaned in assent, so I took my finger out long enough to add a little more shortening to her butt and slather my middle finger in it. Butt cheeks are great for this. You put a little at the top and use the cleft between them to help spread it around. 

My left hand was free to keep playing with her clit without interruption. 

After making sure both fingers were properly greasy, I started to slide my middle and forefinger back into her behind. The two fingers slid in with relative ease, but I looked up to check on Corinne before pushing past the first knuckle.

“How are you doing? Let me know if this gets too much.” I said.

“This isn’t even as big as your strap.” She was almost panting, “I’ll let you know. You’re good. I’m great!”

She relaxed a little more as I used those two fingers to slowly fuck her ass. Corinne had pressed a cheek to the counter top, her eyes were closed and her mouth open. Noises I knew from fucking her with my strap slipped from her lips. These moans were relaxed and contented. She wasn’t going to rush an orgasm. She was living completely in this moment.

“Add,” a breathy command from Corinne, “the next one.”

“Alright, number three, you sure?” I asked.

“Oh yeah.’ 

Barely anything had to be done to lube up my ring finger. The Crisco had warmed up and started to run down between her ass cheeks. Plus, the finger-fucking I had already given her was spreading the shortening everywhere. The triangle made by those three fingers pushed into her, and her ass opened to welcome them. Pointer, middle, and ring finger together were about the size of the biggest dildo I used on her. Lubed up, I was able to slide all three fingers into her ass. I might have worried about how she was doing, if Corinne hadn’t been pressing against my hand. 

I had three fingers inside her as far as they would go. My thumb pointed up in a parody of the hitchhiking gesture, my pinky was able to rub against her pussy lips, even as the other hand rubbed her clit.

“Do not stop. This is amazing.” Corinne kept pushing back on my right hand. I wasn’t finger fucking her ass anymore, she was fucking my fingers. My left hand tried to follow her movements and keep rubbing her clit. So quickly was she rocking back and forth it became clear the best thing I could do was hold my hand in place so she could rub against it. I was stuck where I was and it was great!

“I’m not doing anything until you say so.” I said.

This was a bit of a lie. Even as I stood there, hands locked in place, I was taking opportunities to kiss or nibble on her ass cheeks. My face was getting as lubed up as her butt. Crisco makes food so good, and it really has no flavor to it. 

Corinne kept fucking my hands faster and harder. She was pressing onto the fingers in her ass so hard they bottomed out with every thrust. Every time she pressed back a grunt of pleasure would escape her. Fingertips grasped the flat counter top and helped her add force to every movement. I thought she was going to cum any moment. 

“Add the next.” Corinne said, slowing her fucking to a crawl. 

“You sure?” I asked, this was going to be more than I had ever put inside her before. “We can stop anytime…” I had removed my hands. I wanted to make sure this was what she wanted, but really hoped she meant to keep going. I wanted to stuff something this Thanksgiving. 

“I know. I want to see how far I can go. Do not stop rubbing with that other hand.” Her forehead was pressed into the counter, her back was hunched, she winked at me and wiggled her ass. There was a gleam in her eye I only saw when she was being competitive. Who was she competing against?

Making sure it was plenty lubricated, I slid my pinky between her ass cheeks where the glob of Crisco still clung. 

A tiny bit at a time, I slid all four fingers into her ass. There was no rushing here. A little in, back out. Push until there was resistance and then back. Corinne’s grones were sounds I had not heard before. She was gripping the counter so hard her knuckles were turning white. My free hand was back to rubbing her clit, I didn’t try to put a finger into her pussy. Was there even enough room with most of my other hand working its way into her ass? 

Corinne was trembling, from pain or wanting to cum, I couldn’t tell. Maybe both? Whichever it was, she was taking in deep, stuttering breaths and sounding like a barnyard animal when she breathed out. 

Finally, my hand pressed all the way into her. Only my extended thumb stopped more from entering her. There was no pause, the moment she felt my thumb pressing between her cheeks, Corinne started fucking me just as she had before. Maybe she had been edging herself, because within moments a smile filled her face. 

“I’m. Gunna. Cum.” A breath was stuffed between each word. “Do. not. Stop!” And then she shook. I felt her legs lock and she stopped fucking my hand. My fingers were stuck all the way inside her ass. As she slumped a little I tried to catch her, but my one hand was diddling her clit. The hand that had four fingers inside and the thumb on the outside of her ass that was holding some of her weight. 

Corrine held herself on locked legs riding the orgasmic quakes. My fingers inside her ass were pressed together as each wave of bliss.  This was Corinne’s show, I was there to hold on. 

“Next, careful, but quick. I want to fall over.” There was a feral gleam in her eyes now, and I was not about to say no.

This was a messy process and I had already coated my thumb in Crisco. I made a wedge with my five digits and pressed into her. Despite making the smallest, pointiest plug I could, it looked like I was trying to stuff so much into her.

“Oh. My. God.” We went bit by bit. Millimeter in, millimeter out. I was not adding pressure at all, she was completely controlling this. She pressed back and moved forward carefully mimicking the way she had just been fucking my hand. Every time she pushed back she took a deep breath and sphincter muscles squeezed all my fingers together. I couldn’t believe it when she made it to the second knuckles.

“You’re an inch away.” I told her.“That’s nothing.” She was looking back at me. Her eyes were as wide as I had ever seen them. “I’m so close!”

“To cumming again?” I asked.

“That too.” And she pressed more. 

I could feel her shaking again. She kept pressing. It was hypnotic, watching a little more of my hand disappear into her every time she pushed back. Maybe I should have been more concerned by her wellbeing, but instead I kept rooting for her.

“Almost there! You are at the last knuckles!” I tried to squish my hand even smaller.

And then the whole hand was inside of her. I could feel her legs shaking so much I was afraid she was going to collapse, taking us both down. All of her upper body seemed to be pressing on the counter, holding her up.

“Holy shit! That is so weird. Keep rubbing me, but do not move that other hand!” I don’t know how she was coherent. “Why didn’t we do this with a mirror behind us. I want to see what it looks like! Huhhhgh.”

I think she came then. Her whole body tensed up and my wrist felt compressed.  I stopped rubbing with my left hand and just tried to keep her standing.

"Oh god, don't stop rubbing my clit!" Corinne started pushing back on my hand again. 

It was incredible to see my hand inside her like this.  Watching a dildo slide in and out of her ass while I fucked her was one thing. Corinne was fucking my arm now. I could feel her warmth surrounding my whole hand. I was inside her! I could feel her from the inside like I never had before! 

The fingers of my other hand kept rubbing her clit and she kept pushing back more. 

Corinne was completely lost in the moment. It didn't look like she was aware of anything outside her body. I felt her begin to tense again. Her ass clenched around my arm. And again I watched as every muscle in her body shuddered. This beautiful fiery haired Amazon of a woman was cumming with my whole hand in her ass!

“Oh god. That’s so much. Fuck. I can't believe you have your hand in me!" A puddle of drool had formed on the counter. She was gasping for breath like a fish. Her eyes were glassed over. I could only imagine where she had gone.

"We're up to half my forearm, babe. I think I've just become your biggest dildo ever." I leaned forward and kissed the small of her back. "How are you doing?”

"I'm incredible, and I need to be done." That mischievous grin came back. "Do you think you can pull out?"

"I don't know, I've heard that's not very effective..." It was a terrible joke and I'm not sorry I made it. Corinne started laughing, it helped her start to relax.

"How do you want to do this? Should I keep rubbing your clit, maybe tell another bad joke?” I asked.

"I don't think I could handle more of either of those right now, just go slow." Eyes that had looked excited until now showed a glint of fear. “Be careful."

With greater ease than it had gone in, my hand slid out of her. I could see her ring start to stretch again. It really was amazing to see what she had fit into her body. I'm small but I would not want something the size of my hand inside me, anywhere!

With a quick ‘schloop’ sound my hand slid free of her. "Oh god, holy fucking. Ugh! That part felt like taking the most epic shit of my life!" Corinne slumped to her knees. "That was so great! I still can't believe we did that! I can't believe I told you to that! What was I thinking?"

I got down next to her. "I'm glad you had fun. I'm going to clean myself up real quick, but then I'll be back. Are you going to be okay?"

"Oh, I'm going to be good here for a minute. And then another shower. Got get all that grease off of us." As I stood up she grinned at me. “Hey, it's officially Thanksgiving now. You were elbows deep in a bird!"

Three Witches

Within a secluded encampment three witches awaited the forecast time. Beyond the sundries typical of a normal camp, provisions, tools, and shelter, the trappings of their craft lay about them. A mobile apothecary sat open and ready. A fire had been built, fed, and burned to ashes, smoldering around a cauldron large enough to fit a person. A fog bank hovered, shivering with anticipation. Each witch used their familiar to pass the time, eliciting slight pleasures; shadows of the delights to come. 

Agatha rested upon a couch made of tangling vines and a supplicant tree. The vine’s tendrils and leaves played across her body, each blade tracing her skin as light as a breeze. Her nerves ached for more but she denied herself, awaiting the satisfaction that was to come. 

Jane floated within the cauldron cradled in a net of tentacles. They writhed and teased between her legs, touching and pressing like the fingers of a sleepy lover. She wanted more, but the knowledge of the evening ahead allowed her to be patient.

Within her sanctuary of fog, Mary prepared for the evening ahead of her. She had warmed it to a sauna and soaked in its heat until every speck of tension had melted from her body. Wisps of the fog scrubbed her skin until she felt soft and radiant. Ghostly hands brushed and braided her hair until it was set perfectly in place. She was ready for their visitor. 

"Thrice the brindled cat hath mowed." Agatha reclined in her crimson robe, sinking into the depths of her verdant couch formed of vine and bent tree. The tree was hunched, bound and submitting to the vine that entangled its every branch and twig. Few leaves were allowed to escape and collect sunlight, providing scant nourishment, only where they would not discomfit the witch. The vine itself undulated over Agatha's supine form. Her face was flushed as with a gesture the vine slid from betwixt her legs.

"Thrice, and once the hedge pig whined," sighed her sister, cheek resting on the curved rim of a massive copper cauldron. Jane’s curly salt and pepper hair flowed over the rim, dripping liquid onto dull orange coals. The old cauldron had the shape of a church bell beaten into a pot by an indifferent hammer. Water steamed and bubbled, and a lazy tentacle rimmed the edges of her buttocks and pulsed. More wrapped her torso and legs, supporting her in the boiling liquid. Jane let out an indolent moan as they massaged her flesh.

"’Tis time, this time," cried Mary, stepping through an arch in her bower, a room constructed of fog, unrealized ambitions, andbound, impotent, ghosts. A fraction of the fog followed, forming slacks, a vest and jacket upon her frame. It fit as if perfectly tailored to her lanky, tanned form, and never stopped roiling- sending constant small frissons across her body. Another piece of the ghostly fog rested across her closely trimmed copper-colored hair as a trilby hat. 

Jane extricated herself from the cauldron. The be-tentacled creature, its yellow skin covered with vivid blue rings, draped itself upon her voluptuous form as a halter-topped summer dress. At a gesture, the fire under the cauldron burst to life and licked around the cauldron. 

Agatha lifted herself from the depths of the couch. A piece of the vine detached itself to become a braided belt that fastened around her sanguine robes. She was of a height with the other two only because more parts of the tree became lifted boots before her feet could touch the ground. A piece of stew clung to the back of Jane's dress. Pinching it, Agatha peeled it away and tossed it into the witches' brew.

"Round about the cauldron go," Agatha said, "in the poisoned entrails throw. Toad, that under cold stone days and nights has thirty-one Sweltered venom sleeping got, boil thou first i’ th’ charmèd pot." 

Her coven mates joined her circling the cauldron. "Double, double toil and trouble; fire burn and cauldron bubble.”

Jane gesticulated towards a nearby hollow stump. Tentacles whipped - out and back from her dress -  dropping more pieces into the potion. "Fillet of fenny snake in the cauldron boil and bake. Eye of newt and toe of frog. Wool of bat and tongue of dog, adder's fork and blindworm's sting, lizard's leg and howlets wing, for a charm of powerful trouble: fire burn and cauldron bubble.”

Again all three intoned, "Double, Double toil and trouble; fire burn, and cauldron bubble." 

Mary doffed the hat from her head, crown pinched between her thumb and middle fingers, as if showing something inside it to the sky. She then upended it over the cauldron, never breaking pace. Pieces of fog, like reluctant snow, drifted into the fetid stew.

"Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, witches mummy, man and gulf of ravined salt sea shark, root of hemlock digged in the dark..." On she chanted until nothing else fell from her hat.

"Double, double toil and trouble; fire burn and cauldron bubble." From the cauldron, emanating purple light levitated a woman clad in streaks of aurora and pitch night. Hecate opened her hands, left to Agatha, right to Jane. Auroric light cuffed them from ankle and wrist, navel and neck, and lifted them from the ground. At a nod from Hecate, Mary was bound, calf to thigh, wrist to shoulder in ropes of night, her fog suit fleeing back to the bower. Jane's creature dress changed to a yellow and blue-ringed corset, tentacles becoming ties. Agatha's robe

spilled open, the vine fell smoldering on the ground.

Hecate blinked and more night spread to blindfold Mary. When she smiled Agatha and Jane were gagged by frozen light. Each witch orbited Hecate and the cauldron, no longer under any power of their own. Each witch's binding shuddered and morphed.

Borealic light crackled across Agatha, jolts of lightning dancing from arctic light to skin. She was limned in a violet glow as hundreds of bolts raced across her body. She felt as if she were on fire, but each stroke of electricity lasted only long enough to activate pleasure and pain for an instant before dissipating. She hung there wanting to scream and cum, stymied, floating on the edge of both and denied the ability to do either by Hecate's power.

The antarctic light around Jane warmed her body. Tongues of the Aurora Austrolis licked places that welcomed them best. Her gag became a passionate kiss. Green and purple light warmed her lips, firm and supple it pressed into her mouth caressing her tongue, managing to feel wet and elastic: a lover kissing their partner after a long absence. Tendrils of the light wrapped around the back of her head, fingers pulling and contracting against her bichromate hair. Around her neck another tongue explored under her jaw and up her neck. When she reacted to the stimulation, the tongue would nibble to induce greater pleasure. More tongues of light played with her nipples teasing them to their greatest sensitivity. A trio of tongues were working on her nethers. One had found its way into her cunt. 

Jane had always wondered what it would be like to be fucked by a truly long tongue, one that not only moved across her insides, but reached deep inside her. This oral appendage was thrusting inside her, but also moving and morphing as only a tongue could. One moment it was stiff and thin, the next short and wide, flattened to undulate like a breaking wave inside her. It was still able to explore and probe in ways nothing that had fucked her before was capable. The second appendage of light rimmed her. As good as this also felt, it had the same abilities as the tongue in her sex. How it licked her asshole was exquisite. Long slow undulations were mixed with staccato swirls around her star. 

Jane could not understand how she had not cum yet. Between the ministrations of these two oral appendages, she felt should have come already, especially because there was also a third tongue building a tsunami of pressure within her. Against her clit the third instrument of pleasure was at work. It would vibrate like a hummingbird's wings, then the flat of it would slide up her, a colored tentacle, lubricated just right to be sensational instead of rough. Jane thought she would swoon when the tip returned again and gyred around her bean. The wave of pleasure crested and crested again but always surfed the edge of pleasure instead rolling over itself, never crashing 

For Mary, being bound and blinded by night meant she could not see what pleasures were being inflicted upon her coven. She merely heard their muffled moans, the crackle of the fire, and an occasional hiss as the cauldron boiled over. She was bound and opened by the night, and wholly engrossed in its depths. Constellations played across her body, pinpricks of starlight rolled across her body. Every needle wakening a nerve's reaction, but remaining distant enough never to fulfill each ending's desire. Orion and Canis Major hunted Leo in an orbit around Mary's back, pinpricks of pleasure marked their passage. Hydra climbed Mary's left leg, coiling around her calf and inner thigh, its stars pinwheeling needles. It rose across her navel, between her breasts, and sunk its teeth into her neck. Mary tried to writhe, but the ropes of night limited her to ecstatic shaking. 

Each star sank into her flesh. Glowing brighter as they found a new home outside the umbral cords binding their host. Mary's skin radiated. It twinkled around her bindings like the corona of a solar eclipse. The starlight seared under her skin finding every pleasure center in her body filling them to capacity. She rode the edge of this cascade and, like her sisters, no release was allowed. Each witch shivered, shook, and writhed as much as their restraints allowed. 

Hecate smiled with the warmth of a hearth at midwinter. "Oh, well done! I commend your pains and everyone shall share i’ th’ gains,” she purred, her voice a summer's night breeze. "And now about the cauldron sing like elves and fairies in a ring, enchanting all that you put in!" 

These words released reservoirs already overflowing with the sensation and pleasure elicited within the witch’s bodies by Hecate. Night and light supported each witch off the ground, and all inner bindings were released. Sensation washed past the precipice of the damn built within them. Stone by stone, it broke away until their orgasms became cascades of bliss washing away their minds, each empty of care and thought for the world around them, and each suffused with her own inner glow. Starlight mingled with shadow under Mary’s skin, shade and light tattooing an orgasm across her skin. Within Jane the light of the Australis Borealis vibrated, pulsed and rolled. Corporeal light fucked her until she hung boneless as a doll, drained of vitality by her pleasures. The lightning that danced across Agatha bunched in her mouth. It danced on her tongue then coruscated down her body, within and around her pussy. Every nerve that could be activated in pleasure stimulated by the lightning’s passage. She arched and shook from the bolts of pleasure. Agatha, and her coven-mates, floated ‘round Hecate, each lost to her own orgasm.

Rewards given Hecate lowered each woman to bask in their own slow, indolent pleasure. As the ruinous flood of bliss settled into streams and puddles, so too was each witch returned to her place of rest. Branches settled ‘round Agatha, cuddling and supporting her. A vine cracked itself open and fed her with its sap. Jane slid into her cauldron with an unconscious sigh. The blue-ringed tentacles became a hammock within the cauldron depths to cradle her within its soothing waters. A tentacle collected nearby herbs to add soothing aromas to the curling steam. Mary was lifted by four anonymous ghosts onto a sedan chair of fog and returned to her bower. They never lost balance, even as a gesture from Mary's hand turned one into an apple. As curtains of fog obscured her as she took a voracious chomp from its side. 

The camp was silent until midnight when clumsy stomping could be heard from the woods. Jane's familiar nipped at her hand, "By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes." She allowed herself a small chuckle. "Open, locks, whoever knocks?”

Ghostie

Everyone warned me the house was haunted when I bought it. They told me no owner had ever lasted beyond a year. It was haunted, that was always emphasized, and no one seemed to want the place. 

If I had known how the haunting manifested, I would have made a much higher offer.

When the first week passed without incident, I thought it had all been an elaborate prank. As the first month passed quickly and quietly, I started to relax. By the end of the second month, I had all but forgotten about the supposed ghostly inhabitant. It was three months to the day I moved in that I first felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise when I stepped out of the shower. There was a shift in the air; that's the only way to describe it. I don’t mean to say I saw a ghost - it almost would have been easier if I had. Instead, there was just a vague feeling of being watched. It was the same feeling I used to get when I walked home late at night when I lived in the city. That constant reminder that there are people all around me, to stay on guard, be vigilant. I shook my head, clearing the cobwebs of paranoia. I had to laugh at myself; clearly, the stories the former owner had told were getting to me. I pulled on my pajamas and climbed into bed, collapsing into a dreamless sleep.

Over the course of the next few weeks, it got harder to ignore the sensation of being watched. There was no pattern to the prickling at the back of my neck. Sometimes it came over me when I was making dinner, sometimes as I was doing my makeup for the day. I often noticed it when I was in the shower at the end of the day. When nothing ever came of it, I chalked my hypervigilance up as too many stories of peeping toms and unsolved murder mysteries - a guilty pleasure I couldn’t quite shake, despite the minor paranoia it created. 

Eventually, I got used to the sensation. I couldn’t tell if it was all in my head or if I really was sharing my home with a ghost, but I had to laugh at the absolute scaredy cats that lived here before me. If these were the “nightly visitations” that bothered the previous owners so much, they were absolute weaklings! 

As I grew accustomed to the vague sensation of being observed, I started to use the strange presence to my advantage. Ever since I was a teenager, when my fingers roamed over my flesh in the quiet of the darkness, I would create elaborate fantasies of alleyway fucking or masturbating on trains, or would even imagin a stranger peering in my window. The titillating idea of someone watching me, wanting me, lusting after me always made the orgasms so much stronger. Now, whether this ghostie was real or a figment of my imagination, I got to dream of my personal voyeur watching every time I made myself cum. 

Late one night, as summer gave way to the coolness of early autumn, I struggled into wakefulness, confused and disoriented. I had been in the middle of the most delicious dream. A wicked and beautiful woman had been sitting next to me in the darkness of a movie theatre. While the screen flickered in front of us, her deft fingers flicked back and forth over my clit, driving me to distraction. I bit back a moan as she teased me, trying not to draw attention to what we were doing. She kept her eyes on the movie screen, never so much as glancing my way, she teasing me closer to orgasm. I tried to shift my hips discreetly to get a little more pressure on my clit, but she withdrew her hand and I choked back a frustrated “fuck you.” Over and over she did this, bringing me right up to the edge, only to deny me each time. This erotic game of cat and mouse dragged on for an eternity, my subconscious resisting orgasm in ways my flesh never could. Then, as I felt the undeniable build of an orgasm about to release, I startled awake.

I groaned in absolute frustration; of COURSE I would wake up right before the good part! Grumbling, I pulled the blankets off my overheated body and settled my hand between my thighs. I was shocked to see how swollen my cunt was. This wasn’t the first dream that had me wet when I awoke, but it was unusual for me to be this physically aroused. At least that meant it wasn’t going to take long at all to chase down the orgasm that had evaded me in my dream. I slid my middle finger down towards my slick opening and gasped in shock when an ice cold draft blew over my skin. 

My nipples prickled at the sudden sensation. I must have left the window open last night, I love sleeping in a cold room. I spread my legs, my hips undulating as I stroked my clit slowly and deliberately. While I had initially intended to just rub one out so I could fall back asleep, the crisp breeze had shaken me into full wakefulness. Inspired by the movie theatre of my subconscious, I wanted to drag the pleasure out as long as possible. The icy breeze cut across my chest again, even colder, but it seemed to be moving slower, almost like a lover’s hand dragging over my skin. I groaned, letting my mind wander to thoughts of a mysterious stranger groping me surreptitiously. 

Without warning, the chilly draft changed direction and dragged deliberately down my stomach, splitting to smooth over spread legs without so much as a whisper against my cunt. My eyes flew open and I sat bolt upright in bed. 

"That’s not fucking possible,” I mumbled to myself. "That… that can’t be." The breeze vanished and its absence made me painfully aware of how hot my skin was, how flushed and heated I felt. 

Lying there in the darkness, the realtor’s warnings came flooding back to the forefront of my brain. "Technically, there’s nothing wrong with the house. Even though it was built in the 1920s, it was completely renovated about ten years ago. Since the renovation, you’re the sixth person to buy it. People don’t seem to last here. Rumor has it there's a poltergeist. Obviously that’s pure nonsense, but each owner has insisted that after a few months, they can’t seem to sleep through the night. Granted, none of them have ever  really been able to tell me why; they all just turn red and mumble something about strange noises and change the subject. I sincerely hope nine is the magic number - I’m tired of reselling this house!”

I slid out of bed and flicked the light on, pulling a silk bathrobe around me. Clearly, I was losing it if I was starting to believe in ghosts. At the same time, no draft could have changed direction like that inside a house. I turned to close the window closest to my bed and my jaw dropped to see it was not only closed, but latched shut. My heart racing, I rushed over to the opposite side of the bedroom only to discover THAT window was also shut tight. I collapsed into an oversized armchair and stared at myself in the ornate antique mirror perched in the corner of the room. God, I look simultaneously terrified…and thoroughly fucked.

My eyes were wide and my face pale from the confusion and fear. My hair in a rat’s nest of tangles, looked for all the world like a lover had been gripping it, turning it into a  handhold to control me. My nipples were hard points showing through the delicate silk of my bathrobe; I let it fall open, exposing a strip of soft skin down the center of my body. Unable to ignore the undercurrent of arousal that hadn’t dissipated yet, I spread my legs once more and stared at my swollen lips glistening wet in the soft glow of lamplight. I took a deep breath and, keeping my gaze locked on my wanton reflection, I whispered into the empty room, "Please. Show me I’m not going crazy."

My reflection stared back at me, my frozen twin holding her breath as one minute passed, and then another. Nothing happened. I chanced another whisper. "Are you just in my imagination? Please. Please, I can not handle a mental breakdown right now. " My mood was quickly dropping from horny to humiliated; thank god no one else was actually there to witness my delusions. I sighed and dropped my head back on the chair, closing my eyes against my own embarrassment. Back to bed, I suppose.

The icy breeze rippled down the opening in my bathrobe and I shrieked in surprise, nearly sliding out of the chair as I jumped out of my skin. "NO WAY!" I screamed. “No FUCKING way!" A grin broke out as I realized I might have lost it, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t have some fun. 

"Alright, smartass. You wanna play that way? Fine. Challenge accepted. Prove to me you’re real. Prove to me without a shadow of a doubt that you’re not just my wildly overactive imagination." 

I settled myself in the chair and waited. To my terrified delight, I barely had to wait. Within the span of a heartbeat or two, the icy breeze traced a line up my stomach, between my breasts, swirled around my throat, and brushed the edge of my ear. I let out a low moan, surrendering to the breeze. It wound along my jawline and across my lips; I opened my mouth involuntarily and was rewarded with the impossible sensation of cool pressure on my tongue. What had started as a feather light touch was somehow becoming denser and heavier, like cold, smooth glass. I watched my reflection, mouth open and tongue moving as though there were fingers in my mouth. The cold pressure slowly pulled out of my mouth and I watched in rapt fascination as my lower lip was dragged down, rebounding back into place when the touch dropped away.

Fuck it. In for a penny, in for a pound.

I smirked. "Is that the best you've got? A quick little fondle that might be a face fuck when it grows up?" I held my breath as the air froze around me. Nervous anticipation built and just as I started to regret my bratty tongue, a coil of cold wound around my neck, squeezing ever so slightly. I let out a moan and grinned. Now we’re talking!

I gripped the arms of the chair, determined to let this strange invisible presence do… honestly, whatever it wanted. While the cold band around my throat pressed against my throat, pinning me to the chair, another icy hand slid down my chest, settling on one breast. I watch, breathless, as the soft flesh of my breast puckered and dimpled, indentations pressed into my skin. I let out a soft gasp as my nipple was pinched and rolled. Heat rose in me. The ice around my neck dissolved and twin points of cold held my other breast. My back arched as invisible hands first pinched, then tugged gently on my nipples. In the mirror, my breasts moved under the invisible influence, lifting when the ghost pulled on them and then dropped them. 

All at once, the cold disappeared and I blushed at the involuntary little whimper that escaped me. It was so fucking hot have an unobstructed view of my body getting teased like that, without a lover’s body or even a hand to block the view. My gaze had gone soft, that unfocused look of heavy lust obvious in my parted lips and heavy eyelids. My nipples still stood out, aching for more attention, and my hips ground slowly as I tried to will myself to orgasm. I dug my fingers into the armchair, determined to resist the urge to slide them knuckle-deep into myself. Just as I was about to crack, that beautifully cold, glass-like sensation returned. It lifted my right foot and traced a languid line up my calf and up along my inner thigh, grazing ever-so-carefully along the damp hair between my legs. 

I moaned in frustration, desperate for more. As though the ghost could read my thoughts, two icy hands grabbed my hips and pulled me to the edge of the chair. Startled, I nearly toppled over, but my right leg hooked over a solid surface I couldn’t see in either the mirror or between my legs. I laughed, teasing the ghost. “My my, on your knees for me the first time we fuck? What a good…little…ghostie,” my words trailed off into a moan as the cold pooled between my legs.

The amorphous cold formed into lithe, agile fingers. They dragged slowly along my inner thighs, kneading and massaging as they neared the slick entrance of my cunt. I couldn’t take my eyes off the sight in the mirror as I watched my flesh parted under my invisible lover’s insistent demand. Part of me desperately wished I could see the ghost's finger slide into my body; the rest was too turned on by the sight of my opening widening to accommodate the invisible flesh. The cold slid in and out of my cunt at a frustratingly slow and steady pace. I squirmed, trying to press up into the touch, trying to urge the ghost to move quicker. I’d been on the edge for so long, it didn’t seem possible that I haven’t cum yet. Another finger pushed in alongside the first and I groaned as it stretched me. I chanced a look in the mirror and immediately felt my face flush at the sight of the literal puddle dripping out of me. I clenched around the ghost’s fingers wondering if I could kegel my way to the orgasm I was craving.

Instantly, a collar of ice wove around my throat, tightening to the point that I could barely breathe. My focus shifted to the difficult task of breathing. When a third finger slipped inside me and a shock of ice hit my clit, I realized any illusion of being in control of this situation was just that - an illusion. The fingers moved faster, pulling almost all the way out of me, only to rush back in, rubbing against my clit with each pass. My heart was racing and my breath hissed out in tiny little gasps as the inevitable orgasm built. In the mirror, I saw my hips rocking in time to the finger fucking, my swollen cunt spread on display by my leg slung over the ghost’s shoulder. 

“Please, please, please,” I whispered, “god I’m so close. Please, please, please…” the mantra poured out of me, practically incoherent. The fingers settled deep in me, flexing slightly, while the thumb on my clit started rubbing quick circles. I screamed with pleasure as the orgasm exploded through me, the walls of my cunt spasming around the cool glassy fingers buried there. The orgasm felt like it dragged on forever. That invisible thumb traced maddening circles across my clit. Just as it started to subside, the fingers start fucking me again, faster this time, and I was immediately flung back into another orgasm. My back arched and my head dropped back while wave after wave of orgasm pulsed through me, until my cries of pleasure subsided into whimpers and moans. 

All at once, the cold presence vanished. It didn’t withdraw or drop away; it simply evaporated. My leg dropped down onto the chair with a sudden whump and the sensation of a full, stretched cunt was just…disorientingly gone. I sprawled there, limbs hanging as though I were a marionette who had her strings abruptly cut. I luxuriated in the post-orgasm glow as my heartrate steadied and I caught my breath.

“Well,” I said weakly into the dim light of dawn creeping through the window. “If you’re trying to scare me off, that isn’t going to work. I don’t know what kind of prudes tried to live here before me, but believe me when I say…Challenge Accepted.”