Chapter 5: The Head Witch's Interruption
The harmonious hum of the crystals shattered with a pop of displaced air and the scent of ozone and summer berries. Camilla stood in the center of the chamber, her blonde hair floating as if underwater, her grin sharp enough to cut glass. “My my, Rasmodia,” she purred, her eyes dancing over their sweaty, intertwined forms, the silvery evidence of their union still glistening between them. “You’ve been hoarding the most delicious-looking natural phenomenon. And you,” she said, pointing a manicured finger at Meep, “have been making the most delightful ripples in the aether. Time for some proper fun.”
With a flick of her wrist, shimmering ropes of pure force snaked from the air itself, wrapping around Meep’s and Rasmodia’s wrists and ankles before they could react, yanking them apart and binding them spread-eagled on the vast bed. “Camilla, you insufferable—” Rasmodia began, straining against the bonds, but the blonde witch simply laughed, a sound like tinkling bells laced with malice.
“Oh hush, you love it,” Camilla chirped, striding to the foot of the bed where she could admire her captives. Her gaze lingered on Meep’s half-hard magical cock, now soft against her thigh, and the glistening, used state of both women’s pussies. “Looks like you’ve had your fill of earth magic, Ras. Let’s try something… cooler.” She waved her hands, and two thick, pale blue dildos materialized in the air, each veined with pulsing cyan light and glistening with a slick, viscous lubricant that smelled of frost and mint.
They floated into position. Meep gasped as the unnaturally cool, rigid tip pressed against her swollen entrance, still sensitive and stretched from Rasmodia. Across from her, Rasmodia clenched her teeth, her body going rigid in anticipation. “Wait—” Meep started.
Camilla’s grin widened. “Nope.”
The dildos pushed in, not with a brutal shove, but with a slow, inexorable pressure that forced their cunts to accommodate the substantial, frozen girth. Meep whimpered, the cold a shocking contrast to her inner heat, the faceted texture dragging exquisitely against her oversensitive walls. Rasmodia let out a choked moan, her back arching off the velvet as the invader filled her. Once they were buried to the hilt, the dildos came alive, vibrating with a deep, throbbing pulse that seemed to resonate in their bones, a counterpoint to the warm hum of the room’s magic.
“There. A little distraction,” Camilla said, climbing onto the bed. She straddled Meep’s torso, her own sheer, silken robes parting to reveal a trimmed, blonde triangle and puffy, pink lips already glistening with her own arousal. The scent of her, musky and sweet, filled Meep’s nostrils. “Now, little fox. While my toys keep your pretty pussy busy, you’re going to busy that mouth. Eat my cunt. Make me cum. Don’t you dare stop.”
She lowered herself, and Meep’s world narrowed to the blonde fur pressed to her nose, the intense, heady taste flooding her mouth as her tongue was forced between Camilla’s slick folds. She lapped frantically, the relentless vibration in her own cunt building a desperate, screaming tension that had nowhere to go. Camilla ground herself down onto Meep’s face, riding her tongue with shallow, deliberate rolls of her hips. “Use your lips on my clit, yes, just like that, you hungry animal,” Camilla panted, her hands tangling in Meep’s purple hair, pulling her deeper.
Meep obeyed, fucking the witch with her tongue while the blue toy fucked her, a dual rhythm of violation and service. She could feel Camilla’s thighs tightening, could taste the sharp, clean shift in her juices as her climax approached. With a raw, gasping cry, Camilla came, her hips stuttering as a hot gush of squirt splashed over Meep’s chin, cheeks, and nose, dripping into her hair. She held Meep there, shuddering, milking the orgasm with slow grinds before finally lifting herself off with a wet, obscene sound.
“Delicious,” Camilla sighed, then swiveled on the bed. “Your turn, Rasmodia. Let’s see if your tongue is as sharp as your wit.” She positioned herself over Rasmodia’s face, not waiting for a response, and sank down. Rasmodia, her body trembling from the ceaseless vibration inside her, met the demand with a furious, hungry passion, her tongue spearing deep into Camilla’s sopping cunt as if attacking a foe. Camilla moaned, her head falling back. “Yes! Fuck, you’re so fucking good when you’re put in your place!” Rasmodia’s muffled groan vibrated against Camilla’s flesh, and it took only minutes before the head witch was screaming again, another wave of release drenching Rasmodia’s stern features.
Sated, for the moment, Camilla dismounted. With another gesture, the spectral ropes shifted, forcing Meep and Rasmodia onto their hands and knees, side by side, their asses in the air, the pale blue dildos still humming and buried within them. “Such a pretty presentation,” Camilla mused, walking behind them. She let her silken robes fall away completely. Between her legs, the air shimmered, and a cock began to form—thick, magically summoned, purple-veined and flushed a deep, ruddy pink, with a heavy set of balls that tightened against her.
She positioned herself behind Rasmodia first, one hand guiding her substantial, dripping head through the witch’s soaked folds, already stretched by the toy. “Gonna replace that cold thing with something warmer, Ras.” She pushed, not with a slam, but with a slow, inexorable pressure that made Rasmodia cry out, her head dropping between her shoulders. Camilla sank deeper, inch by impossibly full inch, until her balls pressed snug against Rasmodia’s ass, the witch’s cunt stretched taut around the massive intrusion. “Fuck, you’re so tight around me,” Camilla breathed, beginning a slow, grinding thrust, each withdrawal and penetration a deliberate act of possession aimed directly at Rasmodia’s g-spot.
As she fucked Rasmodia with that deep, rhythmic pace, Camilla reached over to Meep. Her fingers, slick with Rasmodia’s arousal and her own, found Meep’s pussy, still impaled by the vibrating dildo. She shoved two fingers in alongside the toy, curling them upward to press hard against Meep’s most sensitive spot, fucking her with her hand in time with the thrusts of her cock into Rasmodia. The dual stimulation was maddening; Meep could only whimper, her body swaying between the two invading forces.
“You feel that, little fox?” Camilla grunted, not breaking her slow rhythm in Rasmodia. “That’s what my cock feels like. You want it? You want me to stretch your greedy little cunt like this? You have to beg for it.”
Meep was beyond pride, the vibrations and the skilled fingers pushing her to a teetering edge. “Please,” she gasped.
“Louder,” Camilla commanded, thrusting harder into Rasmodia, who was now moaning continuously, her own pleasure building from the relentless, full stimulation.
“Please, Camilla!”
“Not good enough. Beg like you mean it. Beg for my cum. I want to hear how badly you need it.”
Tears of frustration and need welled in Meep’s eyes. “Please, fuck me with your cock! I need it, I need your huge magic cock in my pussy! Please, Camilla, fill me up with your cum! I’ll do anything, just please, give it to me!”
Camilla slowed her thrusts in Rasmodia, listening. “Again.”
“PLEASE!” Meep screamed, her voice ragged. “I NEED YOUR COCK! I NEED YOUR CUM FILLING ME! PLEASE, CAMILLA, FUCK ME WITH IT!”
With a pleased, predatory sigh, Camilla pulled her slick, glistening cock from Rasmodia’s depths with a wet pop. She moved behind Meep, the hefty head of her cock rubbing through Meep’s soaked folds, collecting her arousal, teasing her entrance but not pushing in. “Such a pretty, desperate plea. Okay.”
She positioned herself, and with one smooth, powerful thrust, buried herself to the hilt. Meep saw stars, a cry ripped from her throat as she was stretched even wider than before, the massive, throbbing shaft filling her completely, the base pressing insistently against her cervix. Camilla set that same agonizingly slow pace, each deep, grinding withdrawal making Meep whimper, each full, balls-deep penetration stealing her breath.
“This is what you begged for,” Camilla whispered, her hands gripping Meep’s hips hard enough to bruise. “You’re going to take every inch, and you’re going to take my load.” She picked up the pace slightly, the slow drag becoming more urgent, the slap of skin rhythmically echoing in the chamber. Meep felt her own orgasm coiling, triggered by the overwhelming fullness and the relentless pressure on her deepest spots.
“Now, little fox,” Camilla growled, her rhythm becoming ragged. “Take it. Take my magic cum.”
Camilla’s thrusts lost all rhythm, becoming short, frantic jerks as she slammed herself as deep as she could go and held. Meep felt the thick shaft inside her twitch violently, a series of hot, pulsing spasms directly against her cervix. Then came the flood—a torrent of hot, thick cum, magic-laden and profound, splashing against the mouth of her womb, filling her beyond capacity. Meep could feel each distinct jet, each surge of liquid heat, a scalding, intimate claiming that triggered her own screaming climax, her pussy clamping down wildly on the still-spurting cock. It seemed to go on forever, until a hot stream of excess began to leak out around the tight seal of her stretched entrance, dripping down her trembling thighs. Camilla collapsed forward over Meep’s back, her own body shuddering with the last pulses of her release.
After a long moment of heavy breathing, Camilla pulled out, her spent cock already dematerializing into wisps of golden light. She patted Meep’s ass, leaving a sticky handprint. “Good girl.” She looked at Rasmodia, who was watching with dark, unreadable eyes, the blue dildo still vibrating uselessly inside her. “See? A little playtime does wonders for the aura.” She snapped her fingers, and the spectral ropes and the pale blue toys vanished.
The sudden absence of bonds and internal vibration left them both shivering and hollowed out on the stained velvet. “Thank you, Camilla,” Meep breathed, the words raw but sincere, as the head witch winked and vanished in another pop of berry-scented air. Rasmodia just nodded slowly, a hard-won respect in her tired eyes, before they used the remains of the dark velvet and water from a stone basin to clean the sweat, spit, and layers of cooling spend from their skin. They dressed in silence and walked back through the sleeping fields to the farmhouse, where they slipped into the oversized bed warmed by the forms of Emily, Abi, and Penny. Nestled among their sleeping wives, Meep and Rasmodia fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, exhausted but profoundly satisfied.