"Imagination Tara!" Willow exclaimed, her hand coming down hard, flattening the pale swell of Tara's bottom emphatically underscoring her words.
Tara groaned a long, sobbing guttural cry of complaint, wriggling, kicking her legs as her buttocks burned, blushing a familiar fiery pink under her lover's less than gentle care.
"Ohhh... oh... ohhh..." Tara moaned, sobbing. "Ohhhhhh..."
"Am I making myself clear Tara? Or do I need to take the switch to you again to drive the message home?"
"Oh yuh... yuh-yes mistress... qu-qu-quite clear mistress!"
"Well tell me then Tara... tell me exactly what it is that you must do!"
Willow's fingers drummed lightly on the blonde witch's ravaged behind, dancing threateningly on the enflamed globes. Tara's head snapped back as her lover's fingers seized her tormented flesh in an agonizing pinch.
The red head held Tara's chin between finger and thumb lifting the blonde's face to hers. Willow's eyes bored into her girlfriend's, expressive, potent, powerful, lusty.
Tara shivered, whimpering again under her lover's demanding, imperious, silent scrutiny. Deep inside her something stirred and a tight ball of fearful, icy arousal bloomed in the silence.
Tara bit on her lower lip, gnawing on it; nervous, apprehensive, her fears growing.
She wanted to speak, to cry out, to throw herself at her mistress's feet, sniveling and pleading, begging for mercy, for forgiveness, for relief from the searing, penetrating, iron of those eyes. She would offer herself utterly to her lover, give herself to her. Every personal, intimate fiber of her being she would give up to the red haired witch to do with as she pleased. But she dared not speak, dared not move, dared not breathe. Not that such an offer would mean anything. Tara knew fully that Willow had claimed all that she was long before.
So the silence stretched between them, broken only by the mewling whine of Tara's moans.
"I saw you looking at Buffy & Dawn this morning Tara... I saw you lusting at Dawn in her pjs and Buffy in that little baby doll didn't I Tara? - like the dirty, little dykeslut you are. I know you could tell just as well as I could that they both had very fevered nights hmm? You were wondering what they were thinking of in their beds with their hands busy between their legs weren't you? Hmmm Tara? Got you all hot didn't it my slut? The idea of their fingers in their tight, wet cunts, making themselves come over and over again? And you? You want to know what they were thinking about don't you Tara? Was Buffy thinking about Angel? Or something much more interesting? Perhaps she was thinking about your tongue on her clit? Or was Dawnie thinking about sucking on your titties? Mmmm? Well slut? What do you think? I'm not sure I want you thinking about other girls Tara - you're mine remember - my slave, my little tart, my slut, my Scheherazade... aren't you Tara?"
"Still... perhaps your fantasies about Buffy and Dawn would be interesting..."
"...yes... tonight I want you to include Buffy and Dawn when you write your fantasy for me Tara... and remember to use your imagination... In fact I think we had better emphasise that point... and I can punish you for your slatternly, lecherously unfaithful thoughts at the same time. Now bend over my girl I want your plump, spankable, slut's ass.
So Tara wept as her mistress belabored her derriere, seeking to drive home the message: her goddess's requirement for her to use her imagination tonight.
Later when Willow left her for the evening, the itch between her legs was intolerable.
She worked intently to comply with her lover's demand, recording the most extreme products of her fevered imagination. And while the heated erotic process of realizing her most erotic fantasies onto paper; a process that required her to think through her darkest, most extreme, imaginings in heartfelt, blood stirring, cunt clenching detail, made her arousal bubble up like magma between her legs, the little orb simply drove her to distraction.
"Just a little charm to keep you on edge pet." Her lover had explained with a flick of her red hair as she had completed the cantrip that sent the buzzing, pulsing, glowing, little orb diving down to her center.
Tara had gulped as it settled between the slick full lips of her vulva, her hips bucking involuntarily as it brightened, seeming to feed on the liquid essence of her moist secret flesh before moving to the shining, peaking nubbin of her clitoris. Again she felt herself jerk uncontrollably at the intense, over intense, stimulation of her pleasure spot. It seemed to send a shock of energy, a jolt of pleasure into her. She felt her thighs clench, closing tightly on the orb and on the sensation as she moaned at the stimulating witchball.
Gritting her teeth she tried to close her mind to the erotic torment and began to write.
They sit, faces flushed, a nervous light in their eyes. Dawn fidgets. Buffy sits bolt upright, stiff almost immobile.
"I knew you'd come around to my way of thinking."
You voice is light. You almost sing as you turn to them.
It had proved easy for you to persuade them as, daily, you have found more ways to expose them to my service, to my submission to you - maybe surprisingly easy...
I had felt Buffy's eyes boring into the naked flesh of my back as I prepared your breakfast, the marks of my recent, intimate encounter with the switch, still raw across my shoulders, my legs, my buttocks. Dawn's fascination with my shaven sex had left me shame faced as I sat legs wide, my cunt and my asshole on full display as you instructed while you gossiped again with them comparing the relative merits of Tia and Tamera Mowry from TVs 'Sister Sister' or Kylie and Dannii Minogue; your fascination with the idea of enjoying the charms of two sisters becoming amply clear to both of them. Their disturbed, nervously guilty confessions to listening, rapt and hot with pooling arousal, to my nightly punishments; my regular cries of anguish and ecstasy took them a step further. As did their appreciative, lustful glances as I knelt between your thighs, hands bound, lapping hungrily at your sex and finally their hard, thrusting, shameless masturbation as you lifted my legs, draping them from your shoulders, to allow you to feast on my fat, flushed vaginal folds and on my flowing, gushing liquor as my orgasm consumed me.
Your carefully planned building of my humiliation before them, their growing exposure to my sexual submission and their embarrassed, hesitant, curiosity had served their purpose, subsuming them in the heady, near-mystical energy of our relationship. They had been unable to resist its call on their deepest most erotic instincts, their darkest, most fundamental desires.
"I could tell, y'know... it's a-a-a... a witchy thing... a-a sort of six sense... hmmm maybe it's all about intuition? What do you think baby?"
You turn to me where I stand, heart racing, at the kitchen counter.
"I said so didn't I... just the other morning... that Buffy and Dawn would want to play..."
The black silk of your kimono is sleek. It seems to shimmer as it clings to you slender emphasising the slender lines of your body, accentuating the imperious tilt of your head as you arch an eyebrow at me, a bright sparkle of lust in the dazzling orbs of your eyes. Your confidence grows and the babbling tones are replaced by certainty, precision, command, the smoldering heat of your gaze burns hotter as you appraise the sight of my body 'clothed', I guess you might call it clothed, in my maid's outfit.
"Yes miss." I concur readily, renewed spasms of arousal spiking through me.
Your penchant for 'costumes' is relatively new. First there was the Cheerleader; an outfit you chose for the very incongruity of me in that role. An outfit you knew only too well would leave me mortified with shame and embarrassment on account of its unfamiliarity; my hesitant, ill-coordinated efforts as you made me cheer for you completing my humiliation. Then there was the Catholic Schoolgirl's uniform - two sizes too small, uncomfortably tight, exposing even more of my limbs, my body to you than the Cheer Leader's Uniform. Your pleasure evident as you scolded me, dressing me down at the top of your voice before spanking my bottom until I cried again and again. The maids outfit with its tiny skirt, low cut top, lace gloves, apron, black stockings and garter belt, optional panties and ridiculous high heels is your favorite though. You tell me how much you like the idea of having a maid servant to... to discipline; to wait on you, to serve you, to fulfill all your needs and when I fail to give satisfaction...
I have spent the last three days dressed as your maid. Three long and painful days spent with my bottom high, exposed, red and aching, on my hands and knees with my head between your legs, or your 'cock' in one of my three 'fuck-holes', as you've taken to calling them. Serving you indeed.
Part of me wonders tremulously what costume your next flash of imagination will come up with.
Mostly I wonder what you intend for your maid today.
Which brings us back to how we got here. It was the maids' outfit that seemed to trigger firstly Dawn's and then Buffy's intense interest in our love-life.
Their interest is nothing new - they have always held a long standing fascination with what we do - why I give over control to you; why I let you make me do the things I do; why I let you hurt me. It has taken many weeks of fruitless explanations to explain to them that it is I who wanted this; that you were originally reluctant; that only slowly have you learned to enjoy my abasement, the stripping away of my dignity, my painful humiliations; that only slowly has your enjoyment of, enthusiasm for, your power, your dominance, your reign over me, grown to make you my mistress, my queen, my goddess.
The explanations have grown to be more detailed, more embarrassingly explicit becoming, in themselves, part of my humiliation, an example of my submission; and their fascination has grown. It seems to be your selection of outfits, however, that has truly piqued their interest - as you seemed to know it would.
As, I have come to realize, you intended all along.
"Yes mistress." I reply to your question. "You did say so..."
"So," you begin, pursing your lips as if thinking carefully. Your eyes tell me that you already have a clear idea what you intend.
My heart sinks, ice and fire seizing my insides in contrasting grasps, when you turn to me again.
"So, Tara, we will begin by showing Buffy and Dawn what happens to disobedient serving girls. Yes?"
"Y-y-yes mistress." I stammer in reply. My heart flutters in my chest as I realise that I am to be punished before them. My center tightens: every time you have punished me in front of others - an audience - embarrassment assails me, threatening to overwhelm me with shame; a shame that only grows as my heated arousal becomes clear while I writhe and struggle, sobbing and crying in pain.
Your hands are cool as you take mine. Calmly, always calm, you draw me to you and your lips flutter on mine. Your mouth opens strong, hungry, your tongue demanding, briefly insistent.
"Mmmm... such a sweet little maid..." You almost purr into my mouth. "Aren't you Tara... my sweet, obedient, little maid?"
My voice quavers.
"Y-Yes mistress," I say, my heart pounding, the taste of your tongue is like honey on mine as you turn me to face the counter.
"Bend over sweetie." Your instruction is so reasonable, so ordinary but it stirs me inside just as it always does, and of course I comply, reaching forward to lay my torso over the counter-top, offering you my derriere in its skimpy, absurdly inadequate covering. My breasts are crushed against the work-surface as I turn my face sideways. The counter is cool on my cheek. It answers the cool waft of air on my thighs as you lift my skirt, flipping it up over my back.
"They're watching you baby; watching closely." You purr again, in my ear before turning to them. "Do you like what you see? " Your voice is coy, but demanding at the same time. A shiver descends my spine as the slick heat grows between my thighs. My cunt throbs at the sound.
"Does it make you tingle Buffy? Are you hot with expectation Dawn? Are you wondering... will it soon be you?"
And there it is. The tight stinging jolt of pain as your hand kisses my buttocks. Not hard... yet. Just enough to sting; enough to make me moan, to make me roll my hips, squeeze my thighs together.
"Will it be you? Will you enjoy it like Tara does? The building prickle of pain, that grows and grows to an inferno of hurting, that sets you quaking; makes you hot, wet with arousal, gasping, longing for more; longing to be taken; brought sobbing and crying to blissful, ecstasy? Ahh... I see it in your eyes... the desire... the need..."
Your voice is calm, hypnotic, heavy with passion and cruelty. I feel myself melt as your words flow. I know exactly what effect they will have on the two sisters. There is magic, witchcraft in your voice. I squirm, humid, dripping with desire and your hand falls relentlessly now, with building severity, scorching my cheeks.
"Ahhhhhhh..."
I begin to moan as my flanks flush, hot, aching with a fire that mirrors that building in my center.
Your hand beats out its familiar rhythm on my backside while your voice continues; hypnotic, compelling, soft; seductive and cruel. My heart fills for you, with love; adoring, impassioned worshipful love. My cunt oozes, soaking the tight fabric of my tiny panties.
"Ahhhhhh..."
"That's right isn't it Tara? It fills you, doesn't it? The pain? It fills you with need, desire... you ache for my touch... for the hot, searing, sweet agony of my touch... makes you yearn for me to take you doesn't it maid? You want me to punish you, to enter you, to fill you with pain and desire... to fuck you... to complete you as only I can?"
"Yuh-uhhh... ahhhh... ohhhh... yeh-ehsss..."
The blows continue and I shake writhing still more under the ardor of your punishment.
"Ahhhhh... ahhh... ahhhh... ahhh... ahhhh... ahhhhhh..."
Panting, crying now, my eyes fill with tears and I want... more...
"And you two... yes... you feel it too don't you?"
You turn again to the sisters, your hand continuing to fall, casually merciless, spreading fire across my flanks, down my legs... filling me again with that sweet, heated agony.
"Do you want this?" You ask, your tone light, casual. "Do you want me to take you? Punish you? Fuck you?"
My face turned sideways, my cheek still feeling the cool hardness of the counter-top; I watch them where they sit attention affixed on you. There is heat, liquid passion. It glazes their eyes. Their breath catches, teeth gnawing gently on lower lips, their reaction identical, Gemini as you pause momentarily to slip my panties over the swell of my hips, displaying the burning, rounded swell of my abused flanks to them.
With a curt enjoinder you bid me to step out of my underwear as it slides, a flutter of silk and lace to my ankles, before instructing me to spread myself as I lean forward again onto the counter. My cheeks are bright, hot, flushed with chagrin as my lush, pouting nether mouth is displayed hungry, oozing to their avid gaze.
"Unnnhhhh..." I groan as your fingers probe, stroking, swimming in the wetness of my core. They ease into me deep, two, three fingers fucking me.
"Watch her," you enjoinder as you begin to pump me. "Watch the hungry slut as she squirms as she's fucked, her legs wide, her cunt open, her ass red and hot..."
"Ahhhhh..."
I cry out as you begin to spank me again, your other hand moving still inside me.
"Ready to come aren't you slut?"
"Yuh-uhh... yuh... yes mistress." I sob in reply.
Across the room hands plunge between legs, under Dawn's skirt, inside Buffy's pants, as they touch themselves bringing illicit pleasure. Pleasure I know they will pay for.
"Ahh..." you sigh. "Come then slut... come now..."
And I scream as with a thrust your whole hand fills me, stretching my cunt walls, plunging deep into my core while my flanks redden and burn hotter, brighter under your spanks.
It crashes over me again... the swirling, gusting whirlwind of my crisis. It coruscates through me, dizzying, crashing, leaving me enraptured, quaking, tense and tight around the ball of your fist as I thrust up onto my toes, arching my back, crying out in an ecstasy of pain and humiliation and release.
Exhausted, I crash tearful and panting from my peak, subsiding in a sobbing sprawl over the counter. My body bucks, stars soaring before my eyes and I groan, whimpering, miserable, ecstatic as your hand leaves me.
I tremble, unlikely arousal building again as I hear your voice.
"You girl... take your hand from between your legs and come HERE!
Even not addressed to me your tones set me quaking.
Of course Buffy obeys. Who could resist the stentorian tones of the Red Witch? She crosses to you, flushed, chastened, shamed by your words. Her eyes are cast down. She fidgets, toying with the open front of her pants, trying to straighten her underwear, to recover a semblance, a sliver of her self-dignity. She seems unaware that this will soon be torn away to leave her naked, exposed, begging.
Her folly is not lost on you.
Your eyes fix upon the gaping opening of her jeans, where she tugs at the scrap of her visible panties trying to straighten them. There is lust in your darkened orbs. So much lust it makes me light-headed.
"Leave those alone!" You snap at her and her hands fall still at her side. "Stand still!"
She seems to quiver, the energy of a Slayer burning from her. She is not used to inaction, to this loss of control over self.
"And you girl, since you can't control yourself either," you turn your ire on Dawn who cowers away from you. Hands thrust behind her back in mute squirming denial of her earlier masturbation, she seems to shrink, her eyes wide in fear her legs pressed tightly closed despite the skirt that has ridden up her thighs to reveal panties askew like her sisters. "...you will stand in the corner until I have finished with your sister. Place your hands on your head where they can be seen... you must learn, both of you, your pleasure is MINE to bestow and mine to deny."
Dawn whimpers.
"I will come to you soon Dawn. After your sister is mine your bottom will also feel the stamp of my hand... before..." Your mouth curls in a smile, a smirk of amusement as you consider your words carefully. "...before I take your cherry."
Her eyes darken, flooding with fear and lust and tangled arousal at the easy tone that belies the importance, the threat of your words. Softly hesitant, uncertain in her compliance, she rises to her assigned spot.
And still I wait, bent forward, patient, obedient, the edge of the counter hard against my hips.
Beside me Buffy bends over, her small, leanly muscled, frame submitting to the weight of your hand. She needs no exhortation. Her willingness strikes me.
There is a rustle of material as you tug the clinging denim of her pants from her hips to expose her buttocks, the sodden scrap of her thong descending with her jeans.
"Are you ready Buffy?"
Your question is so reasonable. It suggests choice where there is none. She is as rapt by your presence, your commanding authority, your aura of power as I am. You exercise a control over her that exceeds her; Slayer powers to boot, as nothing else has.
She is speechless silent alongside me. Her eyes liquid, lagoons of limpid hazel, are distant, pleading as they meet mine.
"I see you are." You say with a grunt of satisfaction, inhaling the aroma of her arousal as it wafts from her exposed center. It prickles my nose and she moans now when your fingers find her molten flesh.
"Good Buffy..."
Your purr is heavy with triumphant pleasure.
It falls with a sharp clap of sound to flatten the perfectly rounded peach of her ass.
She gives a low gasp of complaint at the impact of your hand. I wonder how her Slayer strength affects her appreciation of pain. As your hand falls again and again and again, making her wriggle and gasp, her bottom blushing now, the pain in her eyes answers my musing.
Tears begin to seep from her; tracking, trailing their way to the counter top.
Her mouth is wide now as she cries at each successive blow.
"Ahhh... ohhh... ohhhhh... Ahhhhhh... unnhh... uhhh... ahhhh... ahhhhh..."
Growing distress transports her. Her understanding, acceptance, delight in her agony fills her, and her panting cries of anguish gain a tone of blissful ecstasy.
And though I know there will be a terrible price to pay I move closer to her to stopper her mouth with my mine, swallowing her cries as our tongues tangle and we merge; the heat of my own chastisement, the burning of my still aching nether quarters meeting that of hers as it grows, bringing us closer.
Our eyes locked still, agonized bliss growing in he sobs as our breathing becomes as one, her pain becoming a shared furnace.
Her tongue is lithe and quick like all of her. It moves flickering, small but sinuous in my mouth while I taste her breath, her desperation, as mine moves within her.
She burns now, her body transported. I see it in her eyes; the need, the yearning desire, the want.
Her eyes widen when you enter her. Repeating my earlier treatment you fuck her as you continue to punish her.
She gasps; a high catching cry as your thumb eases, penetrating into the tension of her secret opening, sliding into her ass to pump both her fuck-holes.
Still I swallow her cries, her moaning, gasping, guttural, groans of lust as she comes and her tongue becomes rigid in my mouth. Its sinuous life stilling as she tenses. Joined as we are, connected by your dominion, I can sense, feel her core as she tightens, contacting around you.
I hear you gasp as the muscles of her Slayer's cunt squeeze hard against your fingers.
Her eyes are wide and I can see her soul as she stares deep into me. She is open, revealed to me; the loneliness, the fear, the crushing cruelty of destiny, the need for love, the craving for submission, to be owned, to surrender herself to another, casting aside responsibilities that would overwhelm a lesser soul, the adoring hope, that someone might take her, lightening her burden, possessing her, assuming power over her, governing her.
Oh mistress, she needs you so.
With a grunt that she answers with a moan into my throat you withdraw from her speaking words of comfort. You also have seen her need. You saw it long ago. You soothe her, encouraging her, whispering endearments, loving murmurs that tell her she is yours; that you will keep her, control her, own her, love her.
I release her mouth so she may turn to you and you claim her lips, her tongue; kissing her deeply.
A moan of pleasure slips from you both and without speaking, you assist her upright before pressing her to her knees allowing you to straddle her. Parting your gown and leaning on the counter, you wrap a leg around her shoulders to offer your womanhood to her mouth.
She is reticent, hesitant, untrained.
She mumbles "But mistress... I never..." as she raises her lips to kiss you, drawing a moan from your other lips. She gains confidence her tongue questing into you, tasting the ambrosia of your arousal as it floods her senses. Sampling you, she explores your core, seeking out with innate ability, the nascent talent, your sensitive, secret pleasure spots that set you bucking on her face.
"Yesss..." You hiss. "Yesss... that'sss it girl... yess."
Your exhortations urge her on as she redoubles her efforts to pleasure you and you reach for me drawing me up to crush your mouth, demanding and passionate, to mine.
You pant now, urgent, into me as your orgasm crashes over you and you tense in the bravery of my arms as they encircle your body holding you as you buck, thrusting and arching on the blonde Slayer's mouth, filling her with the honeyed ichor of your cresting. It sprays like sensual fire, hot and powerful across her throat and she drinks down your emission; greedy and grateful and servile. She will become as used to its heady flavor as I.
You shudder in my embrace leaning forwards into me your tongue still busy, still urgent in my mouth. It tells me that your lust still rages, your need unabated. I feel myself weaken before your resurgent passion. The stronger your powers have become the more whelming your lust, the more insatiable your appetite.
"Back over the counter maid."
You order me back into position, before lifting Buffy's face from the scented junction of your thighs. Her face glistens, shining wetly, your liquor painting her bliss stained cheeks as you point her back to her position next to me.
You leave us to our thoughts, her ankle crossed behind mine. The touch of her skin on my calf burns at that tiny point of contact and our eyes meet in a silent exchange. I can feel her desire even as she feels mine.
From across the room your voice rings clear and calm as it always does when you have assumed the persona of mistress. Your confident assurance in you role banishes the uncertainty, the hesitancy, the self-doubt that has assailed you for your whole life.
"So Dawn are you ready sweetie?"
The teenager sobs, shivering as your eyes claim hers.
"Hush sweetie... you have nothing to cry about yet... aren't you sixteen now baby... a big girl? Ready to take what your mistress decides that you must?"
Passion seems to radiate from you as you move closer to her. Her eyes widen with surprise, shock, as your hand reaches between her legs, beneath her skirt to fondle the tenderness of her virgin womanhood.
She moans, sighing a gasp of desire, her legs bending to bear down on to you as your hand moves beneath her skirt.
"That's right isn't it Dawnie... you are a big girl now aren't you? You will take what I decide won't you?"
Her head nods and she sobs as her hips buck and sway as you toy with her, teasing her clit, probing into her virginity.
"Yesss..." she gasps as your other hand strokes her buttocks, palming their taut young flesh through her panties.
Trembling as you explore her body front and back she gives a low moan as you reach beneath her underwear to fondle her cheeks. You hand becoming firmer more insistent. You reach between her buttocks, sliding deeper to nudge threatening at the secret mouth of her anus. She gurgles low in her throat, heavy with growing lust, fear still redolent in her tones.
I shake where I rest. I remember my first time... when I gave myself to you, pleading for you to use me, hurt me, dominate me. I remember those first, half-hearted, spanks, your hesitant concern for hurting me, your reluctance to instruct me, to force my orgasm from me. I look at you now with Dawn; your confident mastery, the poised security of your control as you claim her. I envy her. How I wish my subjugation had begun under such stern, cruel, self-assured tutelage. My arousal oozes to stain my thighs as I watch her. I am almost tempted to new disobedience in the hope of attracting your wrath but your authority keeps me stationery, trembling and needy next to Buffy.
Pausing your constant manipulation of her body for a moment, you move to rapidly strip her of her skirt. She flinches at your urgent ferocity and my heart beats faster at her fearful anticipation, in appreciation of her near naked form and in admiration for your easy control, your comfortable severity.
She whimpers as you expose her, unfastening her skirt to let it fall to her ankles. Now suddenly abashed by the prospect of her revelation, her hands reach to cling to her panties as you start to slide them past the growing swell of her youthful curves.
Her error is understandable perhaps. She is new to this; so unfamiliar with her sexuality, with the role she is now assuming. Understandable maybe - forgivable no.
Your voice is stern, harsh.
"Hands away Dawn. Were you given permission to remove them from your head?"
But not so stern or harsh as your hand as it lands stinging, fierce, heavy on her bottom in a flurry of spanks that makes her cry out, wriggling, squirming, writhing as your free hand holds her tightly against you.
"You spank must learn spank to spank be obedient spank Dawn. Now spank let spank go spank and spank put spank your spank hands spank back spank on spank your spank head spank girl.
She cries out at the sudden ferocity of the assault, trying to sway herself out of the line of fire but your grasp on her is like iron. You are stronger than you look: another lesson that I learned, tearfully, long ago.
In Dawn's tears I see that she is learning the same message as well. My sap gushes from me as I see her pretty face stained as they begin to flow.
"Ohhh... ahhh... owww... ohhh... W-w-w-willow... oh please... ohhh... nnn-n-noooo... please... ahhh"
She cries, moaning, pleading as her spanking, her first taste of your discipline, her first achingly glorious blows set in motion those familiar stirrings deep in her body.
Miraculously obedient, suddenly compliant, her hands are now back atop her head: though it hardly seems to avail her as your hand continues to fall.
Spank Spank Spank Spank Spank Spank Spank Spank Spank Spank
"Do you understand Dawn? You will do as you are told girl - is that clear? I want your obedience at all times. Do you understand?"
She writhes sobbing as you toy with her clit while you spank her
I understand only too well how difficult it is to reply under the dual attentions of your hands.
"Ohhhh..." She moans. "Ohhhhh... yuh-yuh-yuh... owww... unhh... uhh... ohhh..." she sobs, stumbling over broken words, groans of gasping complaint and pleasure.
My mouth is dry as you lean closer to her.
"Tell me Dawn... do spank you spank understand?"
Beside me Buffy's breath is short, ragged. She trembles with desire, lust held back, barely restrained passion.
Spank Spank Spank Spank
You hand continues to fall on the teen's panty clad bottom and she sobs, trying again to respond.
"Oh... Ohhh... y-yuh-yess... I-I-I do... I... ahhh... ahhhh... owww... ohhh... mmmmm...I u-u-understand Will. I understand"
"And you will be an obedient little girl Dawnie?"
"Ohhh... mmmm... ohhh... ahhh... y-yes I w-will... I'll be obedient..."
"I'll be obedient miss..." You accentuate the last word with another slap to her now scalding flanks.
"Ahhhh... ohh-oh-oh... yuh... yuh... I'll be obedient miss... ahhhh... ohhh..."
"That's right Dawnie... you will..." You hand ceases it rain of fire on her tormented buttocks. "Now you will lower your panties girl."
You take a step away from her, excitement burning in your eyes as they fix on her while she bends displaying her legs and blushing bottom perfectly as she lowers her underwear to the floor.
There is a catch, a soft gasp, from beside me as Dawn's new position gifts us a glimpse of darkly succulent, pink flesh; wet, pouting, flushed with arousal. I share the heated desire that seems to radiate from the Slayer.
Leaving her panties in a puddle of pale pink cotton at her feet she quickly stands up straight again, resuming her naughty girl's position. She has learned that lesson quickly enough. Unfortunately for her she has not yet learned that disobedience is only one reason for you to discipline her. Something tells me that we be seeing a lot of Dawn's new alter ego: the 'naughty girl'.
Her face is flushed with a familiar glow of embarrassment, arousal, humiliation as six eyes drink hungrily of her near nakedness.
"Mmmm..." you sigh appreciatively.
Her buttocks glow.
"Good girl Dawnie... now then... let me explain... first I'm going to spank that pretty fanny properly and then I'm going to make a woman of you... do you understand?"
Beside me Buffy gasps again, sharing perhaps with me, the image of Dawn legs wide as you ride her sweetly youthful body, pounding her taut virginal cunt with the strap-on that waits on the counter-top.
"Yes Dawn... I'm going to take your virginity... pop... your... cherry..."
You sample each word of this, rolling them slowly around your mouth; savoring them and you smile as she gasps.
She flinches as you move closer. A low moan escaping her lips at the slight contact as your fingernail traces the sculpted shape of her enflamed, aching buttocks.
"And then... we'll see how you and Buffy look in a nice 69..."
I feel Buffy stiffen tensing beside me, her gasping whimper echoing Dawn's.
Briefly I steal an illicit glance at the Slayer. Her eyes are wide with shock and arousal, her face flushes, the fullness of her bottom lip trembles as she pouts. Desire, lustful arousal seems to burn from her despite the confusion that swirls in the bright green of her eyes.
Inside me my stomach twists with my own desire. I am desperate to kiss her again, to touch the perfection of her taut, lissome body, to feel her tongue inside me while I sample the heady flavor of her arousal from its source deep inside her core. Her musk assails me and I yearn for her.
Reading my desires in the intensity of my gaze she squeezes shut her eyes, briefly resisting her lust, saving herself for you and your wishes.
I wonder vaguely when I became so wantonly disobedient as to even contemplate sex without your approval. I have indeed become what you have made me: a slut, whoreish, lust filled; a desperate trampy, dyke-slave. 'Patience,' I tell myself as my breath comes short, shaking at the realisation, waves of desire seeming to burn off me where I stand. You will instruct me soon enough; correcting my earlier disobedience; punishing me for the slatternly wench that I am.
My arousal tightens another notch inside me as I turn my attentions back to you and Dawn.
Your hand rests firmer on her flanks now.
Your voice is cool. She shivers.
"Are you ready Dawn?"
"Y-y-yes m-miss..." She stammers her reply...
"You will remain in position until I give you permission to move Dawn!"
Your statement is velvet and iron, it affects her as it always does me, soothing settling, restraining. It eases the symptoms of fear while concentrating it into a hot ball of fire deep inside.
"Y-yes miss..." Her eyes close, acceptance settling on her features, the panic quieting as her guts tighten and her need for the release you will provide coils inside her.
"Good girl Dawnie..." You praise her.
My heart races as I watch you adoringly. I am achingly familiar with this technique. My body seems to reverberate as I watch you praise her, build her up, strengthening that very self esteem and self-confidence that you are about to shatter, strip from her reducing her to the sniveling, sobbing wretch who will give herself you utterly, crying and weeping as she comes, willing to do anything for you, to comply with any request, any demand; performing any act no matter how depraved.
Beside me I hear that catch again in Buffy's throat as she realizes that her earlier spanking was only the beginning.
Dawn's breathing is calm now as your hand falls on the sculpted peach of her ass, flattening it, spreading its resilience. She rocks forward at the impact. A low gasp of complaint, a pining pant of desire, escapes her lips.
"Ahhhh..."
I feel a twitch in my core. Fire runs again, liquid and slick from my body to burn on my
thighs.
"Good girl Dawnie..." You soothe again. And your hand falls again, incrementally harder.
Smack
"Ahhhh..." she sighs.
"That's right baby..." you purr.
Smack
"Ahhhhh..."
Her sighing moan strengthens a degree or two.
As does your next blow.
Smack
"Ohhhhh..."
"Yes... that's it sweetie... feel it..." Your voice is a hypnotic litany that smoothes over the hot pinnacles of pain that dominate her consciousness.
Smack
"Ahhhohhhh..."
"Good girl Dawnie... tell me girl... does it sting?"
Smack
"Ahhhhhhh... ahhh... ahhhyuh-yuh-yes miss..."
"That's good Dawnie..."
Smack
"Ohhhh... ohhhhh... ahhhh..."
"Well done Dawn... let me hear you.."
Smack
"Ahhh... ohhhh... ahhh..."
As the severity of your spanks still grows her cries rise louder exactly as you demand. Tears prick again in her eyes as the warm flush of her buttocks begins to darken to an angrier hue, deep with anguish.
"More now girl..."
You quicken your strokes now.
Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack
Spreading fire like an emulsion of agony and arousal across her buttocks.
She quakes, shaking now under your intensified assault. Her feet twitch as her tears flow and she cries out, sobbing and pleading.
"Ohhhhh... oooooohh... n-n-n-nooooooo... no... p-p-please... ahhh..."
You are unmoved: of course; your grin feral.
"That's right Dawn... let me hear you as it takes you... let us hear your pain as it fills you... fills you with lust... makes your cunt burn with desire... louder girl..."
Smack-Smack-Smack-Smack-Smack-Smack-Smack-Smack-Smack
Your hand is a blur of torment as it beats a tattoo, a rattling, stuttering barrage of spanks on her body, and she complies unresisting, involuntarily. Instantly responding to your demand.
"Hahhh... ahhhhwwwww... nnnnaaaahhhh... ohhhh... ohhhhhh... ohhhh... ahhhhhh..."
I am unsure. I cannot tell whether the moaning gasp of exquisitely denied arousal emerges from beside me or from myself. I have no awareness to spare it. I am wholly absorbed, captivated, compelled by the sight and sounds created as you subjugate Dawn, rendering her weak and broken.
"Good Dawn... more... louder... yes..." Your voice is fierce now, demanding harshly as emotion burns in it.
Smack-Smack-Smack-Smack-Smack-Smack-Smack-Smack-Smack
"AHHHHH... AHHHHH... AHHHHHHHHHHH..."
She screams as you spank her bottom, her legs, her hips, giving you what you want.
"AHHHHH... OGGHHH... puhrr-puhr-please miss... please...ahhhh... no more... ahhh... nnnnnn..."
I shiver, despite my heat as my arousal, my sap, continues to flood from me. I whimper and Buffy moans. In your eyes the darkly cruel light I love burns sublimely as Dawn bucks and writhes under you close attentions.
Smack-Smack-Smack-Smack-Smack-Smack-Smack-Smack-Smack
"AHHHHWWWWWWWAHHHHHOOOOHHHHOWWWWWAHHHHHHH..."
Her screams, fulsome and expressive rise to an impossibly high pitch before declining suddenly to a low sobbing moan as your hand falls silent at last to leave the poor, chastised teenager sobbing, moaning quietly as her hips rotate, rocking slightly in distressed arousal.
Your voice is calm again as you stroke now the inflamed flesh of her teenage nates.
"Yes Dawn... good girl... yesss... it hurts... yes?" You purr.
"Good girl..." You add as she nods, snuffling, wordless, tearful.
Your judgment is perfect as always.
"And now are you ready?"
She releases a moan, a cry of sheer pleasure as you reach between her legs to toy with her feminine flesh again, probing at her tightness, playing over her nubbin.
She sags, subsiding against you, leaning into your embrace.
"Shhh..." You soothe, mollifying her as you continue to explore her virginity.
"Are you ready now Dawn? Ready to give me your virginity?"
Dawn bucks her, hips pressing forward, groaning as your nails scratch lightly on the membrane of her maidenhood.
She nods her head, still hesitant.
"Ohhh... ohhh... Y-yess miss..." she moans; a long, pleading sigh of need.
Her submission comes as hardly more than a whisper. But it exudes more passion than any shouted exclamation.
It strikes me like a blow, powerful, primal, wild.
"Good girl..." you purr again. "Go to you room baby and wait for me there. You will be naked when we join you."
She nods again, silently compliant now, before reaching to recover her panties, seemingly forgotten at her ankles.
"No Dawnie." You raise a hand forbidding her. "You can leave those there."
Her eyes widen briefly as she meets you gaze. A flicker passes through them; a recognition, an understanding and she turns, stepping out of her cotton briefs to head to the door.
As she leaves you turn to me and to Buffy. Your eyebrow arches again.
"So my two pretty blondes... did you enjoy that? I know you did Tara... but you Buffy? Did it thrill you to see your sister disciplined... punished... spanked... like the sweet little tart that she is?"
The words seize in her throat. I can hear her choking on them. Her choke becomes a gasp, a cry as crossing to us your hand falls hard, heavy on her rear. My body shakes, tightening at my center as I hear the sharp smack and feel her body reverberate, flinching where it presses against mine.
"Answer me girl!" You bark at her
I close my eyes in an ecstasy of arousal at the harsh command of your tones.
"Ahhhh... y-yuh yes missss..." She stutters the final syllable a sibilant hiss as your hand revisits her bottom again and again. Three, four, five more spanks fall where her flanks blush and burn.
"Mmmm..." You hum. "Good girl... of course I knew it did... I can smell your arousal from here!"
Your nose wrinkles savoring the musk of Slayer in heat and she moans as you enter her again, making her groan, crying out in pleasure as you continue.
"But you have to learn to obey Buffy." Your hand moves between her thighs, thrusting into the tightly welcoming humidity of her sex, making her gasp, rocking her hips, gyrating her pelvis, driving herself lewdly against you.
"We will see if you can learn that lesson as well as your sister..."
She moans as you withdraw your hand, leaving her empty, needy, unsated, desperate on the brink of her release.
I can feel the tension in her body as she vibrates, her breathing heavy, next to me. She whimpers half spoken pleadings as her body stills at the weight of your hand as it presses down firmly in the small of her back, controlling her. I wonder again, in an ecstasy of awe for you, my Goddess, as you control the supernatural power of the Slayer.
"You will also learn patience Buffy... you will learn to wait, accepting, quiescent, for your pleasure, for your pain. You will learn, girl, that you are mine; that all your urges, all your needs are mine... that you will receive ecstasy and agony as I chose, as I decide... do you understand sweetheart?"
Your words are soft but steely command underlines them. You free hand strokes the now cooled flesh of her bottom.
"Y-yes miss." She breathes her reply softly, her breath catching, held as your fingers threaten, tormenting, light as they dance on her flanks.
"It is a lesson I had thought Tara had learned, patience..."
Inside me, the worm of my arousal coils again, snaking around my ovaries, winding itself in my womb "...but it seems not..." my earlier bravery, my rashness incurring your expected wrath.
"I have mistress... I have..." I protest vainly. Butterflies flutter as my stomach lurches. The hot, flush of my nether cheeks, my fleshy globes, twitches at the touch of your hands.
I whimper like Buffy.
"So why did you kiss the Slayer earlier, as she was spanked? Did I instruct you to do so?"
"N-n-no Mistress."
"No indeed Tara... So beautiful though it was to see my two favorite blondes so engaged, you must be punished, mustn't you? Punished for the impatient, disobedient slut you are?"
My core tightens again. I feel the heat of my sap trickle, slick and scalding, down the tenderness of my inner thighs. Cold fear spikes inside the heat of my arousal.
"Y-yes mistress." I concede.
"Exactly!" Your voice is calm, measured as you step away from us. "Stand up then please both of you."
We rise together from our prone positions and turn as you bid us. In your hands you hold the dildo recovered from the counter. Your crop hangs from the sash of your gown.
My mouth is dry at the dark light in your eyes.
The tab on the crop stings first my bottom and then Buffy's as we climb the stairs before you. Her absolute nakedness differs from mine only because you forbade the removal of my stockings and my garter belt. Our moans alternating as you strike us in turn at each step.
"Slowly!" You command as our ascent gains pace when we flinch away from the smarting, flickering tab.
She cries out as the crop changes direction striking upwards between her legs, slapping the brown leather tab on the swollen hunger of her vulva. Moments later my cries join hers as you treat me to the same.
The sharp stinging tongue of pain sears though the over-sensitized, liquid need of my slot, making my head snap back in exquisite agony as the shock of the impact reverberates through my lower body. A spasm ripples through me.
Three more times, three more steps and then once more on the landing you snap the crop upwards between our legs. Not hard. Not so hard as is your won't when I am stretched open before you. Just sharply enough to torment, tease, to make us want to flee, to stimulate the heated, aching need of honeyed cuntflesh.
Four more whimpering cries escape each of our mouths.
Dawn starts, nerves clear in her face as we enter. Naked, her breasts are perfect swelling with new found maturity, capped by perked, pointing, raspberry tips. My mouth waters for her nipples. I long to suckle at her buds, licking them, tonguing their hardness, their stiffened, rigid peaks.
My eyes fall down the flat, perfect plane of her abdomen, drifting southwards to the tuft of dark curls that adorn the junction of her thighs.
Beside me Buffy's gaze is transfixed as is mine. She licks her lips, moistening their pouting fullness at the sight of her sister's body.
As you enter behind us Dawn's eyes, wide and full, switch to you. Nervous anticipation shines in them as she espies the faux-cock in your hands. You step past us. The dildo dangles by the harness from your hand as you wave it before her.
"Say 'Hello!' Dawnie. Say hello to your new best friend! You're going to be spending a lot of time getting intimately acquainted with this..."
You lift the cock to her face and her eyes fasten on it. It seems to transfix her. A shudder of fear passes through her shaking her body.
"Say 'Hello' and give your new friend a kiss, Dawnie..."
Eyes wide, her teeth close gently, uncertain on her lower lip. She looks up from the plastic erection to your face, hoping for a clue, an indication of how to proceed. Your only response is a simple nod.
"H-h-hullo" she murmurs.
Her tongue flickers, dampening her lips, before she purses her lips, lowering her head to the presented shaft, bestowing a kiss on it.
"Good girl," you say softly. "Now open your mouth so you can learn to suckle on your new friend."
As her lips part obediently, to receive the smooth length of the phallus into her mouth with a muffled moan as you continue.
"That's right Dawnie... show me you can suck on you new friend before we introduce it to your other mouth..."
Holding the dildo like a pen you slide it between her lips, easing it in and out of her receptive mouth. She gurgles softly, wetly around it.
"You're going to keep it with you at all times Dawnie... so that I can fuck you whenever I want... you'll take it to school in your schoolbag... you'll keep it in your purse when you go to the mall... you'll keep it close when we go to the Bronze... do you understand Dawnie?"
Her reply is a muffled groan of assent.
"Mmmnnn-uhhh... yu-uhhmmmm... mmmhmm... y-yuhh-mmmnnn..."
"That's a good little girl Dawnie." You praise her as you continue to fuck her mouth and she gasps around the cock, a gargled, moan of exquisite pleasure, as your fingers slide between her thighs to ease again over the oozing flesh of her vulva.
She bucks, sagging against you again.
"That's right baby but you need to be prepared for your deflowering don't you?"
Her reply is lost as she moans insensibly around the dildo.
Of course you suffer no such disadvantage as you press her to her knees with a softly spoken command of iron that reignites the fire in my loins. If that were needed!
"Hands and knees Dawn."
Your hand glistening with her secretions is heavy on her shoulder.
"You two," you snap at Buffy and me as she assumes her servile position.
We come to suddenly alert attention as the hypnotic rhythm of the dildo's movement in her mouth is dispelled.
Your eyes twinkle with amusement as you turn your head to me, a grin curling the corners of your mouth.
"Come here maid" You stress the word, reminding me again, of my station. "Undress me and strap Dawn's friend to me..."
I scurry forward to take the strap-on from you. Standing beside you as you continue to move it slowly in Dawn's mouth, my body aches for you. I release the silken ties of your kimono to reveal your body. The black silk slides from your shoulders to reveal you; naked and perfect, pale and feminine, utterly desirable to me. Unthinking, unbidden as I fumble with the faux-cock's harness I lower my mouth to brush your shoulder with my lips in a sign of adoration.
Your head snaps sideways to stare at me, your eyes hard, like ice and fire. I read my error in your eyes. Your silence terrifies me. My cunt tightens, quivering.
You hold my attention for an eternity before you speak again, but your words are not for me.
"Buffy... your sister needs to be prepared for her deflowering... I want you to open her up for me..."
"M-m-mistress?" She asks, confusion, incomprehension echoing in her brief question.
"I want you on your back beneath her Buffy... so your mouth can ensure she's wet and ready for her new friend... ahhh... that's right Dawnie..."
The straps are fastened snugly about your hips. The nub at the base of the shaft presses firmly against your clit and your hands now grasp Dawn's head. Holding her firmly, you bob her on your cock, stirring it against you. The slurping sound of suction fills the room as you continue.
"Mmmmm... is there something you don't understand Buffy?"
"N-n-n-no m-mistress." Comes her shaken reply.
The Slayer moves slowly, reluctant, embarrassed to lower herself to her knees behind Dawn. Her eyes plead with you.
"B-but mistress..."
Her protestations trail off as her head lowers before your gaze.
Watching your command over the Slayer, in breathless wonder, my heart aches. I long for you to turn that power, that authority upon me. How I would scurry to fall to my knees before you, to perform any act you command... but you know I would so you leave me alone, unspoken to, unattended, beside you, building the tension of my frustrated need inside me.
Buffy lowers herself to the floor before your unwilting gaze and assumes the position you require.
The younger sister's eyes widen as Buffy's lips find her sex and she moans, wordless, gagged by the cock in her mouth.
"Mmmm... mnnnnn... uuuggghhh... nnnnn... unnnhhhh..."
As her sister's tongue explores her sex, learning the contours, the flavors, the soft lush shape of her intimate flesh, Dawn's eyes widen, bugging out, glazing in ecstasy at her first experience of cunnilingus. Her hips thrust and her face stares as ecstatic arousal shines from her.
"That's right" you purr. "That's it my beauties..."
Joyous satisfaction echoes in your words as you stare at the vision before you.
My gaze is transfixed too, my liquor oozing hot, gushing, from my sex to coat the often punished tender skin of my inner thighs in a sheening film of my seepings, my feminine essence.
The younger sister's hips buck wildly now and with intuitive understanding Buffy's hands reach around her flanks to grasp her thighs and hold her young sibling to her, welding the brunette's honeyed nether lips to her mouth as her tongue quests deeply, hungry now into the depths of that tightly muscled channel. Dawn's face frantic, desperate with approaching climax, panic and desire radiate from her as you caution her to resist her orgasm, holding it at bay. Her moaning, bobbing mouth gurgles around the shaft of the strap-on and your hands, firm on her head control her movement as she slurps and sucks wetly, unresisting on the artificial cock.
"Mmmm... nuuggghhh... mmmm... shhhllupppp... .mmmm..." she moans. Behind the slick, liquid noise of her lips, her mouth; behind the muffled moans a note of desperation grows. This torture is too much for one so inexperienced; her own urgent fumblings being her only comparable experience. I have been kept perched, held on the brink of ecstasy for hours, but she lacks the years of training I have endured; the numerous days spent bound while some cantrip, some wicked magical trick, has wormed its way into me to leave me continuously frustrated, short of my release in class, over dinner, at Scooby meetings. I shiver as I recall my wide experience of this particular torment and those times when, with a word and a gesture your magic has brought me to the very climax I desired in the most uncomfortable, shame inspiring places possible. I remember the times only the darkness of the movie theatre has spared my blushes as I cry out in sweet ecstasy or when I have affronted restaurant goers or stained the seats at the Bronze with my flooding emissions as you release me.
But you are not yet so cruel with Dawn and Buffy's face shines with her sister's juices as she emerges, at your command, from beneath Dawn's cunt.
Buffy's eyes are bright, transported by lust. She blushes as she speaks, but I am stunned by the speed with which she has become yours.
"She's wet and open for you mistress." She pants.
"And delicious I take it?"
"Mmm... yes mistress... her juicy little cunt is yummy mistress... m-may I please have some more mistress?"
"Later Buffy... after I have made her a woman..."
You smile fondly at the lustful subservience of the Slayer, proud of the change your charismatic will has wrought in her.
Lifting Dawn's face you ease the erection from her lips, bruised and flushed now, but always full and perfect. She trembles, her face filled with the misery of her denied need, her eyes shining with tears unshed as tremors of her curtailed climax shake her.
"You are ready now aren't you Dawn? Ready to give your virginity to me... ready to open your legs... give your cunt to me... ready for me to fuck you... aren't you?"
Your query is deliberately obscene, emphasizing 'virginity', 'cunt', 'fuck' and she nods her head, her hands reaching to rest on your thighs her eyes beseeching.
"Oh yes... yes miss... please... take me... take my virginity... fuck me... make me a woman... a-and m-make me your slave... my body ... m-my c-cunt... my cunt is yours... p-please Willow... mistress... fuck me... with my 'best friend'... fuck me with it... fuck me until I scream for you..."
My jaw drops at the unexpected scale of her surrender, the speed of her capitulation, the depth of her submission. But you, my red haired Goddess, you simply smile, your eyes dark with triumph and desire, your face calm, almost serene.
"Ahhh... that's right baby... good girl..." you purr, stroking her cheek with the tips of your fingers. "...to the bed then girl... on your back... with your legs wide and your knees raised... show me your cunt... that's right Dawn..."
"Like this mistress?" She asks, eyes hooded now, as her fingers part the folds of flesh at her center exposing the lush, dark hunger of her core to our eyes.
My heart beats wildly at the gloriously lewd positioning of our young friend. My eyes drink in greedily, the sight of her exposure. Buffy gasps again.
"Yes Dawn." You nod your approval "Such a pretty little cunt baby... mmmm... all pink and wet and hot... I can hardly wait to fuck you..."
She gasps as the leather tip of your crop, insidious and wicked, stings the soft, displayed heated coral of her sex. It makes that familiar wet, slapping noise as you smack her secret flesh, your wrist bringing the tab down accurately between her fingers where they hold her folds wide.
The blows are not hard but repeated, sharp and precise they make her cry out, tears bright again in eyes that stare up at you, wide and pleading, searching for understanding of this new agony which you give her despite her obedience. Her hips jerk, bucking in painful arousal.
"That's right Dawn... let me hear your pain... so obedient... so willing...so compliant as you take your pain... even though you have tried only to please me..."
The crop continues to sting her aching sex, slap, slap, slap, slap, slap and she sobs pleading and begging until finally you relent.
"Mmmm... I think that will do baby... but before I'm ready to take you Dawn I have one other matter to attend to..."
Your eyes are as darkly enigmatic as your words and you turn to us.
"I have a lesson in patience to teach first..."
Buffy and I share a look, panic, fear blossoming in our faces.
"Buffy... will you please take Tara in your arms?"
With a puzzled look she steps to me encircling me in the strength of her Slayer's embrace. Her body is hot, flushed. It seems to vibrate against me.
"Hold each other close," you instruct calmly. "And kiss..."
The Slayer's arms tighten around me as mine wind around the slim muscularity of her frame. Her lips are flavored with the heady musk of a woman in heat. Her sister's essence is strong, rich on her face. Her breath is perfumed with Dawn's aroma. Her tongue, strong and forceful in my mouth, is honeyed with sibling sweetness.
"That's right..." you croon as you pause to take in the view of our Sapphic embrace.
Even in my advanced state of arousal, almost overwhelmed by the sensation of Buffy's hands on my back, her body against me, her tongue twined around mine as it hunts in my mouth, the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. That familiar shiver runs down my spine as I recognize the beginnings of a casting.
The spell forms from your words, builds from your gestures. Our hours spent at practice have seen your powers develop to the point where candles and herbs and magical ingredients have become necessary only for the deeper, stronger spells. Now the magic seems to exude from you and spreads to where Buffy and I stand enthralled, enwrapped in each other.
I shake, shivering as the magic touches me. It is an icy chill that courses over me. It begins at my feet, easing them apart and then enshrouding them holding them in place immovable, secured more firmly than any physical restraint. I feel rather than hear Buffy gasp as her body is manipulated identically.
As the glowing field of witchcraft spreads, it begins icy, prickling, tormenting on our flesh, to climb our thighs. A shiver of understanding, of recognition, passes through me as the source of the charm comes to me.
I groan into my partner's mouth as her tongue thrusts hard in shock when a fist of icy fire thrusts into each of us, filling us with pulsing, plunging magic. Our hips thrust and thrash against each other as the spell fucks us slowly, massively, reaching far into us to work deep in the center of our bodies.
We cry out together as the magery thrusts again, squirming, probing, impaling us from behind; pushing hard, but smoothly past the tension of our rose holes. Stretching the puckered rings of our sphincters it fills our bowels with pulsing plunging ice, filling us, distending the taut inner passageways of our asses.
And still the spell spreads and grows. Circling my clit it tightens around my nubbin, securing it more tightly than any pump, more fiercely than any clamp, constricting around it, milking it with exquisite cruelty as the witchcraft pulses with a counter-rhythm to my heartbeat. A low groan escapes me to fill Buffy's mouth.
Or perhaps it is her groan that fills me.
The coruscation moves onto our bellies insinuating itself between the taut flat musculature of her abdomen and the softer wall of my tummy where they snug together. A slight, insistent pressure grows; a disconcerting presence on our lower torsos. It seems to pool like ice in the hollow of my navel.
Spreading faster now, it seethes over us rising up to claim our breasts in a sudden grasp, seizing upon our nipples in a closed encircling pinch identical to that at the jutting pebbles of our clits. Enclosed and constricted as well, agony and arousal war through my body as the tension inside me, around my sensitive flesh builds slowly, throbbing, pulsing, pumping, filling me with torment and need. The Slayer's body rocks against mine as we struggle in the increasing immobility of our magical bonds.
And still the magic spreads, over our shoulders, holding our whole bodies tight. It slides ever higher, up our necks, to cover our heads, securing us, our mouths welded together until finally it covers our eyes, shrouding us in darkness, leaving us blind in a sea of overwhelming sea of sensation.
Buffy whimpers in my arms, her tongue trembling in my mouth and we strain uselessly against the immobility of our bounds as I gasp, tears of frustration burning my cheeks.
Isolated from the world, held, stimulated but unsated, cruelly insistent, unthinking, inhuman witchcraft continues, slowly to torment us. I am fraught, agonizingly desperate to move, to grind my body against my fellow's, to touch her, to touch you.
Beside me I feel your presence. My heart beats loud in my ears.
"You make a quite beautiful statue my beauties."
And I feel you turn away from us.
"I imagine that you will both come to understand the importance of patience..."
Left alone in the darkness, swathed in a magical blanket that teases and thrills us but denies us release, we listen closely to Dawn's moaning responses as you return to her.
Again we hear the familiar tell-tale slap of leather at her center and she gasps as it falls again.
But now is not the time. You do not torture her for long.
"Hush now Dawn..." You soothe.
In my minds eye I see you, as you kneel now, between her wide spread thighs. Her gasping moan accompanies your words as you murmur, low to her.
"Shhh Dawn... relax now baby... take it now... take my cock into your hungry little fuck hole..."
Another gasp, another moan, a groaning cry of pleasure and pain. I visualize your weight sinking forward onto her driving the strap-on into her virgin tightness, and I hunger, longing to be able to see, to watch, to participate in her ravishing, to join with the theft of her innocence.
My body aches, lusting with desire. The feeling of my magical restraint and the sound of Dawn as you take her virginity fill my senses.
I hear her moan as you enter her and the dildo forces its way into the taut unyielding tension of her pussy. I hear her cry of pain as, sinking the erection deep into her you sunder her virginal membrane, breaching her maidenhood. I hear her gasping, pleading for relief, for more, for you to fuck her harder, deeper. I hear her growing groan of pleasure as the silicone of the dildo clicks and slurps as strokes its way deep into the slick, lush channel, the oozing, wetness of her core. I hear your words, your questions, lewd and embarrassing as you demand her response.
"Ohhhhhh... ahhhh... nnnn... i-it h-hurts miss... ohhh nnnooo... ahhhhh..." She gasps and cries.
You respond calmly, increasing the pressure, driving the faux-cock deeper, skewering her virgin body onto the silicone shaft.
"That's OK Dawnie... you're a big girl now aren't you? You can take what your mistress gives you can't you?"
"Ohhh... aghhhh... ohhh... y-yes miss... I-I-I can take it... ohhh... yes miss... ohhh yesss... please miss... ahhh... like that... ohhhh... please miss... please fuck me... ohhhh... ohhh... yessssss..."
"That's right baby beg for it... beg for more cock."
"Yuhhh... ohhhyuhhhhh... ohhh... p-p-pleas miss... give me more misss... ohhhh... ohhh... please fuck me miss... p-p-please f-f-fuck me h-harder... ahhhhhhh..."
"So how does it feel baby? How does it feel to have your cunt crammed full of dildo? Do you like it baby? Do you like my cock inside you?"
"Ohhh... ahhhhh... yuh-yesss misss... f-feels g-good... ohhhh... so good... I l-love it miss... love y-y... ohhh... your c-cock inside me..."
"You like being fucked by another girl don't you Dawnie? Don't you? You like my plastic cock in your tight little virgin's pussy don't you? Don't you girl?"
"uhhh... uhhh... uhhh... y-yuh-yuhhh-yesssss Willow... oh y-yes miss... I like it. I love being fucked by another girl... ahhh... good... ahhhhh... ahhhhhhh... yeaaahhhhssss"
"That's it Dawn... take it deep... into your cunt... your hungry, dirty dyke's cunt... that's right isn't it Dawn... you're my hungry, dirty little dyke aren't you?"
"Mmmm... ahhhhh... oh y-y-ehssss miss I'm y-yours... your dirty, little dyke misss... oh yes... oh please... ohhh fuck me miss... ohh yes... deeper miss... ohhh yes miss... harder... ohhhhh... oh... oh ... fuck me miss..."
"Are you going to come for me then Dawn... are you going to come; my slutty little dykeslave? Are you?"
"Ohhh... oh yes miss... I'm going to come... oh p-please... oh please miss make me come... ah... ohh... ow... owww... mmmnnn... ahhh... y-yes miss... ohh yes miss... ahhh... ohhhoooowwoooohhhahhhhhnnnnnahhhhhhhh..."
I hear everything, all of it in its obscene, erotic detail. I feel my body react in inevitable response, aching with need as the manifestation of your sorcery holds me and Buffy in that cruelly tormenting grasp that stimulates and magnifies our arousal but holds us immobile, restrained, unable to gain the release we seek. Her tongue quivers as it gags me. Her moans, my whimpers, muffled by our kiss become the desperate pleading of our frustration, our denial.
Dawn's climax comes crashing, loudly over her. She cries out in an ecstasy of emotion, sensation, surrender. But you have not finished with her yet as you fuck her again and again, changing her position, the manner in which you take her, to bring her loudly to orgasm after exhausting orgasm.
Your words painting the picture for us:
"...turn over Dawn..." slap, slap "...quicker girl... good... now lift your ass... that's right... on your hands and knees..."
"Oh n-n-no mistress... not in there... not my... a-ass..."
"No Dawn not there... not yet... neither you nor Buffy are ready for that...yet... just your cunt for now..."
"...ahhhhhhhhh... m-m-mistress... ohhhh... ohhh... ohhh..."
"...Is that good Dawn... your 'best friend' deep inside you... deep inside your hot, wet cunt? Yes?"
"Ohhh... ohhh... oh yes miss... oh so g-so good... ohhh... yes... oh yes... oh co- oh co- oh coming mistress... oh yes... ahhh yeahh... ohh... ohhhhh... ohhhhhhhh yeahhhhhssss..."
"...good girl Dawn... now on your back again... open your legs... wider... now lift them... here rest them on my arms..."
"...Ahhhh... n-n-n-ahhh... ohhh..."
"...that's right girl take it again... your best friend... in your cunt... now beg me... beg me to make you come... beg me while I fuck you..."
"Nggghhh... ahhhh... oh please... oh please miss... m-m-make me... make me come..."
"...yes... that's good girl..."
"...ohhh... yes... please miss make me come... oooohhhhh... .ohhh... ahhhhhhhhhhh... nnnaaghhhhhhh..."
She screams coming wildly as you plow the sweet furrow of her womanhood time after time until she can plead no more and she cries; a sobbing, wail, dull continuous, pathetic as you bring her to a final crest.
But still you are not finished with her and the muffled sound of her lapping hungrily at your sweet-spot while she learns to pleasure you can be heard after you lower yourself onto her hesitant, nervously compliant mouth
Time passes slowly, unmeasured for me and for Buffy in our in a torment of denial. Aching, lust filled, overpowering need and arousal saps even her strength, breaks our will, leaves us sobbing silently in the misery of our anguish as you come on Dawn's face, riding her lips, her tongue, flooding her with your essence.
The night extends as time passes, a slow trickling accumulation of moments; a long, torturous journey into torment for Buffy and for me as we thrust, and writhe, our tiring bodies struggling ever more feebly to ride the spell's insidious, intruding, inadequate stimulation towards orgasm and completion. Long into the night, denied and frustrated, the most erotic of imagery playing in our heads, as we strain to hear to compensate for the spell that blinds us as it torments us. Long into the night Dawn moans and cries and sobs and comes as you take her over and over; first fucking her, then riding her mouth, then spanking her before you sink the dildo her 'best friend' into the sweet, fragrant aching, needy center of young body again.
She pleads you. She begs you. She implores you: for mercy, for relief, for more and more as she offers her body, her sex to you again and again.
You moan your climax again and again; and I long only to be permitted to be in her place, to pleasure you, perhaps to earn my own release.
Finally you calm and your words tighten my inner walls against the intruding witchcraft. Again I feel the familiar prickle of a casting. This time I recognize the words. I realize, with a shudder that causes Buffy to moan again returning the vibrating torment to me as her sex seizes in spasm, that your words will heal Dawn's hymen, reversing her deflowering, repairing her cherry.
Once done, her virginity intact again, your words cause both sisters to moan in distress and need. I feel Buffy's hips quake against me in our binds, her stomach fluttering against mine.
"There... that will do Dawnie... a virgin again... ready to be plucked anew... and by whom I wonder... mmm? I think your sister will have the honor next... and then perhaps I will repair you all... claim again three ripe, aching cherries..."
You voice is light now, happy, almost teasing as you contemplate the pleasures to be enjoyed in future.
"And then three perfect ripe bottoms to chastise before I ravage them... hmmm... three tight, virgin rings, their mouths lubricated, eased by hungry probing tongues... ahhh... yes... Dawn... here girl... your tongue again girl... on my clit... mmmm... the possibilities are endless... ahhhh... ahhh... yesss... that's right girl... oh yes..."
Your orgasm claims you again as we three, your happy, aching, adoring slaves quake and shiver and burn with need, as your passion fills the air, burning its way across three consciousnesses, branding three souls, leaving us utterly servile, utterly yours.
Eventually you pause, taking pity on her as her moaning pleas merge to become a long sobbing moaning wail and you turn towards the witchcraft encased statue of torment that is the Slayer and I.
With a word I feel the spell breaking, melting from us falling from our weary frames. Light bathes us leaving us blinking, weak, disorientated. After the chill, gelid embrace of the magic our bodies flush, effuse with blood. We moan, sobbing in an agony of arousal as the blood rushes back, burning, demanding into our nipples making them bulge, fat, full aching and huge like growths that crest our long bound breasts. Slowly now the spell peels back an aching, shuddering easing of our torment. It falls from our clits and like our nipples they flood with restorative, agonizing blood, budding, swelling, jutting as they cry out for attention. I squirm in Buffy's embrace and she sags against me as our insides ripple and quake at the withdrawing spikes that ease from our bowels, from deep inside our wombs. I feel open, gaping, an emptiness, a chasm of need within my body as the last of the magic ebbs away.
"Have you learned you lessons my sweets?"
Your voice regains that sing-song tone, but beneath it, hot and lustful, your desire burns. I quake at the odd combination of your tones.
I moan softly as you lead us both to the bed, making us lie down next to the exhausted, sweat ridden form of Dawn. Her sister's eyes are wide with concern, with fear as you direct her into the youngster's arms. They hold each other close nuzzling softly into each other as they embrace.
"Mmmm..." you purr as their gentle cuddle becomes more intense their mouths finding each other in passion.
"That's good..." you confirm, encouraging them and you reach for me, turning me onto my front, lifting me onto my knees before you as you take position behind me. You legs outside mine as I kneel compliant, accepting, waiting, patient; my lower body lifted presented to you. Your hands mould over my buttocks; kneading, fondling, stroking their still heated flesh. I groan as your fingers tease my anus and my heart flutters, palpitating in expectation of the plunging spear of silicone in my taut, little, oh so sensitive, rose-hole. My body twitches as your hands roam the front of my body, cupping, squeezing my breasts, stroking my belly, toying at the nook of my navel before dipping southwards to the apex of my thighs. I buck as you seize my clit, pinching it, milking it you begin to jerk me off while you guide the head of your cock, smeared still with Dawn's secretions, to the entrance to my sex. Your other hand reclaims its grasp of my breasts before you take my nipple between agonizing fingers to match the rhythm of the hand at my crux and you drive the shaft of the dildo into me. Groaning again as it enters me, stretching me, opening me to slip within the slick walls of my channel it plunges deep filling me with an ecstasy that makes my head spin.
"That's right baby" you rasp, your mouth hot breathy against my ear. "That's right baby... that's what you're good for isn't maid... you're good to be fucked baby... mine to be fucked aren't you?"
My hips buck as I quiver and moan at the harsh friction of your fingers on my clit.
"Ohhhh yyy-ess mistress..." I sigh. "Oh yes mistress... it's all I'm goo-ood for mistress... for you to fuck mistress... ohhhhhh..."
"But you still have to be punished for your earlier disobedience don't you baby?"
"Ohh... ohhh... oh yes mistress... I need to be punished... ohhhh... punished for the disobedient wh-wh-whore I ahhhm..."
I moan, panting, mouthing wordless pleas, gasping, crying out, utterly supplicant, as you fuck me. Pumping hard into me, stroking the faux cock hard into my depths, your thighs slap against my buttocks and finally I come, desperate with need again as you plough into me, while before me, just as you promised they would, the two sisters' heads bob between their thighs as, moaning, they move to form a circle, yin and yin, yang and yang, the perfection of their 69.
Tara's core spasmed with need, hot and pulsing in counterpoint to the aching, throbbing fire of her buttocks. Another day spent in heat, liquid arousal filling her panties as the magical witchball teased and tormented her cunt, her clit, moving at random from deep inside her, to the peaking nubbin at the apex of her sex, stimulating all parts in between. She had come three times in class today. Willow, sitting next to her lover had watched, an amused smirk on her face at the blonde's attempts at silent self-control as her face, her neck, and the creamy slices of cleavage revealed by her low cut top had flushed dark with her crisis and her embarrassment.
"I wonder what my little Scheherazade will dream up tonight." The redhead had asked in a dreamy, sing-song tone as she led her girlfriend to the restroom.
Her words had been all together different as Tara's mouth had busied itself at the junction of her thighs, while the blonde witch knelt on the floor of the cubicle.
And then another spanking on their return from school, another torridly erotic round of pain for Tara as her crimson haired lover indulged herself in the headily exotic pleasure of punishing her true-love only to cast over her repairing, restoring the blonde witch ahead of her evening's exertions.
Before she had been left to compose her tale of pain and humiliation and sexual exploration for Willow's late return.
Now the red haired wiccan lounged again on the bed, her hand stroking casually, languidly at the stickiness of the sweet spot between her legs as she read through the hard crafted erotica. Tara's mouth was a desert, dry, empty, arid. She longed to sate her thirst on the soft, glistening moisture that seemed to sparkle between her lover's folds. Her own liquor slick and viscous oozed from her cunt. Her thighs were damp, aromatic where her musk wept onto them.
Looking up, meting Tara's eyes, holding them as the blonde's breath caught in her throat.
"Mmmm... Tara... that was very imaginative... very... unusual... you really did use your imagination didn't you? Shows just what a good spanking does to encourage doesn't it pet?"
Silent, words stuck, lost in the wasteland of her throat, the blonde witch gave a nod, a silent wordless sign of acquiescence.
"And such a pretty fantasy baby... mmmm... you want me to make you a virgin again?"
Again Tara could find no words. Inside her panic and desire spiked like twin peaks that speared through her and she knew that the decision was made. She could still remember the older woman who had first claimed her when she arrived in Sunnydale. She had been gentle, but fierce as she had fucked her, instinctively identifying the submissive in Tara. Now her eyes were troubled. She doubted that Willow would be so gentle. Instantly she longed for her red witch to take her roughly, claiming her, breaking her anew.
Willow was captivated by her Scheherazade's latest effort. She was so enrapt by her odalisque's tale that she hardly noticed Tara's distracted state, carrying on with her own musings almost regardless.
"And you are such an imaginative little girl aren't you baby? An imaginative little slut? Perhaps one day you will be able to share me with Buffy and Dawn... perhaps... but for now..."
Willow quirked an eyebrow as she rose from the bed to draw the tremulous blonde towards her. The red head's mouth was hot, demanding as she drew her girlfriend into a searing kiss that left Tara swooning in her arms.
Tara's knees buckled as Willow's fingers skittered across the molten flesh of her center and she clung to the crimson beauty with desperate arms.
Drawing her sweet-heart to the bed to lay her down on her front, she reached for the strap-on dildo and lube that was permanently on the bedside table. It was a matter of moments to slick the faux-cock with lubricating gel and fasten the harness to herself before she reached for the vibrating phallus that lay beside it.
Grasping Tara now by the swell of her hips Willow raised her trembling girlfriend to her knees, elevating and displaying the creamy expanse of her haunches until she knelt on the bed her ass high, her head and shoulders bowed forward to rest on her folded arms. The blonde moaned softly as her lover began to ease the tip of the dildo past the taut pucker of her sphincter stretching the mouth of her anus, pressing into its resisting grasp, easing forwards slowly, massively, filling her ass with the hardness of the silicone cock making the blonde witch whimper, mumbling with the strain of admitting the shaft into her always tight secret passage. Tara's groan became a low keening cry of pleasure as Willow reached below her to slide the vibrator into the aching hollow of her core. Filled now from in front and behind, her moaning cries of pleasure grew. Vibrating now when Willow flicked its switch, Tara felt her body respond in its inevitable manner; tightening unbearably as her red haired mistress slowly thrust deep into her bowels. Willow built the pressure steadily, slowly stroking the both phalli gently into her. She began to drive the dildo in and out of the blonde, fucking her ass hard and deep with long, slow strokes, unbearable in their intensity whilst she used the vibrator to skillfully depress the softly writhing submissive's inner sweet-spot.
Tara cried out in anguished ecstasy as Willow murmured, her words hot, torrid, savage against her ear.
"I promised you pleasure as well as pain didn't I Tara... if your fantasies pleased me... well tonight I'm pleased... very pleased... so I'm going to spend the night making you come... how many times can you come baby... shall we find out?"
"Mmmmmm... ohhhhhh... ahhhhhh... yuhhhhhh-oh-yuhhhh-oh p-p-please mistress... oh ye-oh-yehhhhs mistress... please fuck your slave...any way you wi-i-sh mistress... please make me come... oh please make me come..." she moaned in heartfelt, needy, pleading reply.
The pace, the force of Willow's thrusts built and Tara wailed ecstatic, joyful with pleasure as she climaxed, wildly, under her cinnamon haired lover; her scarlet mistress.
Coming again and again, long into the night, Tara wept in the repeated surfeit of ecstasy, screaming Willow's name in passion as her lover, her mistress, her goddess drove her, forced her, coerced and compelled her to her crest again and then again and again, reminding her, to her cost, that there are many forms of torment. Not all involve the inflicting of pain, but were equally excruciating in their merciless application nonetheless.