Witching Hour

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The Calm

With the holiday most akin to American stereotypes done and over with, class and thus the Black Halls returned to normal. Everyone seemed to be of higher spirits, though. More willing to come to class. Even Ayn was a treat, offering more than simple, bitter, bombastic retorts. She even added a smirk at times.

As the week went on, though, tension rose again, since the test once meant for Thanksgiving now reared its ugly head. Monica was especially aggravated; she groaned, threatening to spill into a full rant as she slapped her review copy down on her desk. Which was more ink than paper. And that was before Samantha marked it with the red.

“How is this wrong?” She exclaimed, pointing to... somewhere in that crimson sea. She jammed her finger against it again and again, and Samantha could have sworn she saw some of the ink splash, as a tiny whale rose to the surface. As soon as it did, though, a black vessel sailed to it and stuck it full of holes, drowning it in more r- Monica continued to assail the paper, bringing more business to poachers. For once in a lifetime, it was booming. “Or this? Or this or this or this orthisorthisorTH-”

She squeaked as the page burst into flames. The sheer friction she was forcing on it ignited what pulp was left underneath and the residual oil in the ink... Samantha sprayed it, put it out -and then the dear whore of a Fang, dousing her with the water bottle as she cleared her throat.

“It’s okay, Monica,” she said, giving her another review copy. “Just... try again, and this time... ask.”

Monica gave her a dirty look. “What do you think I have been doing!”

Samantha was taken aback. “R...really? Who have you... been...” Jack and Minos started snorting, trying so hard to cover it up, but Samantha got her answer. She walked over to the pair. Jack was the first to regain composure, while Minos was still rather giggly, looking up at his teacher. “Just... why?”

“You kidding? This is the best Christmas present ever,” Jack said. He heaved a sigh, far to pleased and pleasant for the ire in Samantha’s brow, and creased his hands together, leaning his head back into their cradle. “Besides, you should be thanking us. That’s probably the best she’s done yet.”

You aren’t wrong, she thought, but shook her head- yelping as Bella pinched her rear. She spun on the drider, no review copy anywhere to be seen. Just her and her big, old, raunchy smile, her wanton, quivering lips, wanting, needing nothing more than for her teacher to whisk her into her arms an- Two more days. TWO MORE, then I’m done with you.

That thought, alone, made Samantha keep the holiday cheer in her heart and her stride, but every Monica Monica Monica’d threatened to steal it away. The irritated Fang left her seat, and was before Bella’s desk, gesturing to how empty it was.

“And what about you?” The whore shrilled, squirming in place before she tamped her heel, trying to look adorably flustered instead of another A word that better fit her in every way. “Why aren’t you doing anything? You’re not even taking part in any of the conversations! I relied upon you, and this is how you repay me!”

“You’re joking, right?” Bella shot back. “I’ve seen your grades. If you were ‘relying’ on me, I... am very sorry.” She scoffed, and simply shrugged, winking at Monica. While, still, feeling up Samantha’s rump. “I’ve got a good track record. Teach knows I’ll pass with flying colors. Isn’t that right?”

Monica gasped, and scurried around the desk, dropping to her knees before Samantha.

“Wait. That’s it! This is how I can pass,” she said, and giggled as she started to undo Samantha’s blue j- she appeared back in her seat, yowling, shivering from another spray from the water bottle.

However, it seemed that her shenanigans had caused quite a stir.

“As much as I hate to acknowledge that thing, it made a good point, though,” Junmei said.

“What?” Samantha said.

“How do we know Bella has been genuinely passing? This whole time, she could have literally been the teacher’s pet.”

Like you’re one to talk, Samantha thought, looking at the harpy handbag once known as Marcy hanging off his arm. Buffy was cast far off to the back left corner, every so often casting a dirty look towards that tote, thinking of a different, yet more accurate, acronym for that ho over there on Junmei.

“Then again, she could be showing leniency for all females, too, given her... appetite,” Jack chided in... but was quick to shrug. “Eh. Who am I kidding? Not even the bullest of dykes would pass Monica for a chance to smash.”

“Thanks for your words of encouragement,” Samantha grumbled.

“Besides, Peter, Norman, and I always pass with flying colors, and she knows that she has no chance with this.”

“Thank you. That is more than enough.”

“I mean, really. I’ve seen far finer women in my days, and not a single one got n-”

“Maybe she passes you just so you can stroke your ego,” Ayn retorted. “Goodness knows no one else is touching you.”

“Hey! That’s my choice. It’s my body, after all.”

“Which has the same color as what you crave. Looks like you are what you eat.”

“I mean, if we’re going with skin color, then you’re right. Sad part is, I don’t think the phrase is eat shit and dye.”

“Ingesting fecal matter then shedding the mortal coil?” Lisa piped in.

“The other kind of dye. The one where you color clothes or hair... or skin, in Ayn’s case. Or maybe I’m completely wrong and she’s shit given human form. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Ayn stood, and lumbered over to Jack, towering over the Fang.

“You want to go, little bitch boy?” She said. Jack simply chortled-

And reeled through the desks to the left.

Ayn’s fist was still raised. The crack of her knuckles against his cheek still echoed through the room, crackling and slapping before lost under the clatter of desks and chairs and metal. She sighed, opened her hand, and clenched it, popping each knuckle-

Before jutting her arm back out. Catching Jack again. This time in the gut. He doubled over it, and this time Ayn raised her knee, thankfully caught by him before it hit someplace at speeds Samantha could only imagine.

Jack chortled, and eased himself back in his desk, rubbing his quickly-bruising face, and she returned to her desk-

“Methinks the cracka doesn’t learn,” Ayn said, picking up her desk and fixing the legs as well as she could, sliding it over Jack. He was face down on the ground, twitching in the crater Ayn had shoved him into. Made by his own devices. She didn’t even bother to move him from under her heels, propped on the back of his head as she sat.

“How did you-” Samantha began.

“Fangs are notorious for only moving from point A to point B. Once you understand where point B is, they become more a threat to themselves,” she stated, and stamped her heels down into Jack’s head, sighing. “Learned that my freshman year. All the Fangs thought me slow, and the boys liked it like that. Only managed to strip me twice before they learned the hard way this nigga don’t fuck around.”

“I’m sorry, did you say stripped?”

“Bra panties and all.”

“Can we get back on track, please?” Monica exclaimed, holding up her review copy, filled once more. “Check this over aga-”

Junmei snatched it out of her hands... and blinked, already in complete disbelief by the very first word.

“Your name is... name?” He uttered, his tone cracked, defeated without ever entering the battlefield.

“To be fair,” Samantha interjected. “That is an improvement.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Monica said, and slumped onto her desk. “I was distracted... I was following your orders, teach. I was keeping Minos from rampaging.”

“Really?” Minos boomed as he stormed to his feet. He stomped over, snorting as he bore down upon her. “You are really going to blame me, you stupid fucking whore!”

“Careful, Minos,” Ginger said, giggling, each rise making more fat slop off. It finally hit the tipping point; Samantha hoped she was going to keep herself inconspicuous. But no... but no... “You remember what happened last time.”

“Oh, shut up, you walking carrion take-out. You’re the clearest example Samantha doesn’t have any bias. If she was basing it off whom she could fuck, you’d get straight Z’s.” He shot a dirty look at Samantha. “Even with her low standards, she wouldn’t literally fuck a dead lay.”

Bella’s desk clattered aside as she stood.

“Watch your mouth, bitch, or I’ll seal it for you,” she said. Her abdomen quivered, slurping as the stinger inside throbbed free, lazing down as she started to reach for the ceiling, turning upside-

Norman stood, as well, and got in between that dribbling stinger and the raging bull. The dragon on Samantha’s thumb unfolded, joining him, resting on his head as metal slowly rose and coursed along him, shielding him.

“Guys. Please. Remember what Peter asked of us,” he said. He looked back at Peter, whom simply heaved an exasperated sigh, finally done packing up. “He doesn’t want any drama.”

“Oh, is he going to blame teacher again, when it’s all this horned bastard’s fault?” Bella spat.

“My fault?” Minos boomed, and turned to Monica, glaring at her. “It all started with this whore!”

“No. It started with you blowing what she said out of proportion.”

“So I should just let her say whatever. Let anyone say whatever about me.” He snorted, hands crackling on Monica’s desk. She went eerily silent during, simply staring up at him the entire time, locked into his gaze. “I should just let a two-cent whore badmouth me... Well? Have anything to say now? Why are you staring at me like that? If you think this will lead to a hate-fuck, guess what? My hand has felt better than you ever did the last few days. You are miserable at sucking, and even worse at bl-”

“I am only going to warn you once, Serephan Minos.” Monica said. At last. Her voice, though little more than a whisper, sent a cold chill through the room, crackling and cracking the metal around. And her body had gone horrifically still. Samantha had never seen her so... stoic. Nor her voice so steady and true. “I am under incredible stress right now... I have been putting my heart into studying so that I can pass one of these redundant and trivial and worthless tests.”

“What did I do to you?” Samantha whimpered, but wished she hadn’t. Even her presence in between Monica’s words felt like a lash back at her, recoiling as Monica shot her a glare.

“On top of it all,” she continued, “I haven’t been getting any. Not EVEN from myself... I have even been withholding masturbation so that I can put ALL... ALL I can into this. So... Seraphan... I am only warning you this one time: Do. Not. Push me.”

“Oh yeah? Or else what?” Minos leaned further over, but stopped, glaring at Peter. He reached for his horn, concern- no. Not concern. True fear, fear that even Samantha could feel, that Ayn had felt and retreated out of the room as subtly yet quick as she could. Ginger followed, as did Lisa, but Norman was still there. As was Peter, that fear etched into their brows, only deepening as the minotaur snorted and slapped Peter’s hand away. “Really? Going to interfere again! Why don’t you just tuck your t-”

What he was about to say was cut out by Monica’s war cry.

He howled, like a young schoolgirl that had fallen off her bike, and it didn’t relent. Even as he tried to stand. But, time and again, he was brought to his knees. The beginning was the slowest, and Samantha had it etched in her skull, watching as Monica grabbed both his horns and slammed them and his chin down against her desk. It repeated, again and again, faster, faster, until it sounded as if his chin was a jackhammer until it finally shattered, meeting her knee.

There was no mercy, once more the start slow, showing to all how she smashed his face into her thigh over and over, coating it then the floor around in blood, dribbling then pouring from his mouth and nose. At one point Minos managed to jerk free, falling back into Bella, but she recoiled and fled as Monica pounced on him, continuing her onslaught. His head rung hollow on the steel floor, tremors felt with each crash; they even woke Jack, paling, skittering off to his seat in the back in between shock waves as delicate as he could, lest he incurred her wrath, as well.

“Won’t somebody stop this crazy bitch?” Minos managed to shriek, and growled as he tried to do just that.

Met with a pair of pencils.

Samantha didn’t see where they came from, but surmised that Monica jammed them there, right into the bases of the horns. They were twisted, and broken off just at their tips only for them to be shoved in again. It was as if Minos had no control over himself at that point, braying and shrieking and crying as he was steered into each wall and slammed into them –which the only slow part of the entire journey was returning to the door.

“You think you’re all big and bad, you asswipe?” Monica screeched at last... but... took a deep breath, seen again. She rested against his back, heels and toes digging into it as her arms gripped those pencils. She exhaled, slowly, and was so dainty flipping over him, landing before the door. She gave him the sweetest of smiles... as she kicked it open. She even hummed, and tapped his nose. “Lemme show you just how wrong you are.”

She sung it, made it lilt, almost a lyric on its own. Though it seemed so cheerful and spirited and welcoming and warm... It had no place in that room. It didn’t belong in that hall. Not at that moment. At least, not for Minos or anyone watching on.

Monica “disappeared” again as she wrenched him out the door, everyone left there frozen, forced to listen as the halls echoed with her “love”, with Minos’ “comfort”. His shouts were already girly shrieks, but somehow they became even more effeminate among screeches and bangs and groans of the walls. She uttered one final... gratuity, and a door thundered in the distance. It boomed as it was closed... bringing with it a sinister silence.

No one dared utter a word nor breath out of turn, waiting, feeling the silence’s cold presence consume them. Samantha’s heart hammered in her ears, eyes begging to blink, but feared that even the waft of her lashes would summon whatever cruel fate Monica had wrought. So she let her eyes dry and go blind. The high-pitched buzzing that had become so familiar even seemed to dim, returned to its full luster as that door in the distance creaked open again. It didn’t seem that long, but to all that were still there it might as well have been an eternity in that otherwise eternal Hell. Yet... even that seemed more comforting than what Monica had become.

And, speaking of the Devil.

Monica hummed a merry tune, skipping back into classroom, a few shades redder on her cheeks. She plopped down in her chair, creasing her hands before her, twiddling her thumbs as she waited for Junmei to finish looking over her review copy –which he only had begun to do. His pen was the only sound in the room save for Monica’s humming, but, slowly, another, sluggish, deathly clamor made its way to the room, growing with each weary clomp.

It turned out to belong to none other than the corpse of Minos, limping into the room. His pants were barely still intact... but... at least covered. Samantha didn’t want to look, but even the bulge was smaller; not even an eighth of what it usually was. His hair, his eyes were caked in blood, still dripping down his front and back, as well as welling from fresh scratches on both.

He plopped into his chair, rocking side-to-side, and heaved a heavy sigh... quiet after.

“M-Minos?” Samantha managed to say at last. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. J... One moment,” he said, breathless, though he held it as he felt more than saw Monica’s glare. He winced as Peter reached for the pencils, but relented, whimpering as they popped out with four, loud squelches. “Thanks, Petie.”

“Any time.”

“Now... now, Sam... where were we w... with- with the r...eview?”

His head hit the desk before he finished asking, out cold. The review finished not long after, and they all left him to rest. Norman did return with Samantha to at least make sure he was bandaged up, but neither one could stitch so that’s all they could do. Rather, given the air that still clung, it was all they were willing to attempt. Besides, Samantha had her own plan to see through.

Samantha returned to her room, made sure no one was coming, then sent Bella a text. She counted to 180 as before, and opened the door, lumbering back to her bed and falling into it. She put on her best smile before Bella could crawl into her abode and slammed the door behind, and endured as Bella pounced on her, covering her in kisses, a habit that was in dire need to be broken.

This time Samantha did, much to Bella’s displeasure.

She had just opened her teacher’s blouse, the bra raised halfway, allowing her nips just to be seen along the red fabric. But... Samantha pushed her off, and motioned to the desk.

“The test.” She stated.

Bella whined, licking Samantha’s neck.

“No,” she drawled, nibbling, pushing up her bra completely, and tugged on Samantha’s left. “One last taste. This will be our last time... as you say.”

Samantha scoffed, but had to remind herself that it was a part of the plan.

“Well, we could make it an off-again on-again thing,” Samantha mumbled, rubbing the back of her head... but shook it, swiping Bella’s hand away from her chest. “Do you mind?”

“Not in the slightest. I’m enjoying it as much as I can.” She bent down, lapping at the left thrice before sealing her lips on it, moaning as she nipped and pulled hard on that tip. Samantha pulled her off, but it seemed to chase after, rising, stiffening. “Besides, that only sounds swell if you decide to postpone my execution.”

“Your what-n- Oh. Oh my... That is coming up, is it? It completely slipped my mind.”

Bella sighed, and gripped Samantha’s hands. Tears glittered in her eyes, while she beamed at her teacher.

“It’s okay. I wouldn’t mind dying. Not after the last month. You... you showed me such happiness, compassion. You gave me a reason to want to love life again, and, though I would love to continue on with you, I understand i-” She burst out laughing, and shook her head. “It wasn’t really convincing, was it?” Samantha held up her fingers, barely an inch apart, and Bella cackled more, caressing Samantha’s face. “I mean, it wasn’t a lie, but I’d rather live on, you know. Be with you... enjoy these sessions.”

She made an exaggerated biting noise and was once more on Samantha’s chest.

“H-hey! N-not ag-” Samantha pulled her off of her tits once more, but this time kissed her, embracing her (human half, at least), rubbing her sides. “Bella... of course I will postpone it. I haven’t seen a single reason not to... I mean, if your sentence was like Monica’s, then maybe I would have ammo, but, since you aren’t in here for being an amazing fuck-”

“Oh... I’m an amazing fuck, huh?”

“Well, maybe exceptional-”

“Bitch!”

“I am what I am.”

Bella shook her head, and “sat” at the desk, the test already there. Samantha watched her from the bed, rubbing her breasts, tugging on them. She bit her lip, held back a moan as her left hand trailed lower, raising her black skirt up.

Why not play the bad teacher? She thought, and giggled as she made soft, kissing sounds, getting Bella’s attention. The drider looked back and flushed seeing Samantha’s folds, untouched by any panties.

“I wasn’t wearing any all day,” Samantha said, moaning. “You see what you’ve done to me?”

“Bitch, you always a ho... but you my ho.”

“Ah ah! No talking during te... tests.”

Bella growled, and focused on that damnable item again... though chanced glances. Her left hand clenched the desk as her right worked to keep going on that page, but it finally gave, rubbing her own breast. Her smallest legs played and teased below, making her jump as they dropped the plate covering her modesty. Samantha continued to play with herself, rubbing, stroking her clit slowly. Even sucked on her thumb... and reached out with her foot to nudge Bella’s abdomen. It rose, throbbed with each touch, allowing her to tease the underside, making the end drool with web.

“Q-quiddit,” Bella exclaimed, chuckling, moaning with her. “I can’t focus. You’re the one that said I had to do this, first.”

“Surely you can do both, can’t you? Bring that abdomen over here.”

“M-my abd... are y-”

“Oh my. Are you nervous, Bella?”

“It’s... it’s the first time anyone’s asked to u-use it.”

“Then bring. It. Over.”

She bit her lip, flushing brighter than ever... but raised it. She needed to take a step back as well, but that sapphire-and-crystal abdomen raised and rested on top of Samantha. Bella, though she tried so hard to keep it cool, was so quick to start panting, mewling as Samantha wrapped her legs around it, rocking and grinding against. Samantha teased the slit at the top, circling it, kissing it as she wiped away the web spooling so freely down. She stroked it, goading the stinger to slide out. It was covered in a thin membrane, twitching, peeling slowly away as she continued to tease –reminding her of a certain part of Mahna. A part she was desperate for.

Web continued to leak around it, spooling on her hands, making it tough to move until fire burned it away. Silver gleamed on her knuckles, howling gently against the moans rising in the room. The desk creaked as Bella lurched against it. Her tongue lulled as Samantha licked at that tip, fluttering along its crude edge, all the while working towards the chitin on the other side. She bit those rough plates, and Bella howled as she came, bathing her in web. It wasn’t the last either as another nip forced another round, the desk groaning from its mistreatment.

Bella pulled her claws out of the wood a moment before they sunk again, howling with another climax, tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

“Oh, Goddess... It’s s-so good,” Bella managed to say. She whimpered as she looked over her shoulder, her cheeks making many a fire pale. “C... can you suck on my st-”

She didn’t even get to finish, bucking back against Samantha’s face, trying to force more of that stinger into her lips. But Samantha refused, for the moment, content with just the tip, careful not to let it cut. It wasn’t as sharp as she expected; in fact, it had a texture much like the part she was craving, the one she fellated not too long ago, which made it far more easy, mentally, to gently ease down it.

Bella shuddered, cried out, coating her again and again as she bobbed and stroked it and her abdomen, and even made the drider yelp as she gave the chitin a nice smack. Fire flashed more and more, burning away the web holding her in place as Samantha pushed her away. She had to back up a bit more on the bed to get her luscious lady folds to the stinger, after all. She rubbed against, quivering, soaking it... and decided she wasn’t ready to take it in.

In that hole, anyways.

She raised her hips more, and, instead, had that stinger in her rump, sliding in with ease. Bella didn’t want ease, though. Her mind was gone, her eyes blank, only filled with lust as her abdomen thrust into Samantha’s ass, squelching. Louder and louder, the bed begging for it to end. Samantha rubbed her folds as she did, reaching heights as well.

“Almost finished. Almost. Alm-” Bella blurted, her pencil trying so hard to work, forced down again and again lest it was impaled through the desk. The paper was soaked, ripped... but she managed to answer the final question, lying on the bed at last. She watched Samantha now, watched her grade her test. Her tongue still lulled, lapping at the sheets, tasting Samantha’s sweat and juices on the blanket, giggling. “You know... that stinger has another use.”

“Oh yeah?” Samantha said, panting still, sated as well.

“Yeah. It’s an oviposter... If you like, I can impregnate you. We could have children, Sam, live a good life together.”

“We’ll... we’ll see. After tomorrow.” She may have said, but her mind already made itself up. Hell. Fucking. No. This was hot, but spider babies? The only thing worse would be bees. I’ve heard of honeypots, but that’s just fucking ridiculous.

She fought her shuddering... and heard a tiny sniffle. She looked back- but quickly looked forward again. Bella wouldn’t want her to see her crying, after all.

“What’s wrong?” Samantha said, trying to keep her tone even.

She sniffed, wiped her eyes, but smiled all the same. “Nothing. Nothing... It’s just... I’ve never been this happy. Sam... I love you. Truly... No dramatics this time, no bullshit. I’ve... well, I’ve already said I’ve never felt this way before, but I’ve never realized how deep it was. I can’t live life without you, so, regardless if you are lying or not, if you wanted this to be a quick thing... Please... be my love.”

“... Like I said. We’ll see.” She handed Bella back her test, a solid B-plus. “You did great, considering.”

“Heh. Yeah. I’m proud of myself... So, tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow... tomorrow.”

She had to repeat the word, for now she not so certain. She never heard such... genuine emotion before, never seen nor felt anyone so open... so... intimate with her. Samantha knew she needed to play her part, but did it have to end after... Tomorrow. It all comes down to tomorrow.

Love is a wonderful thing, isn’t it? When you see it for real, when you know it’s true, anyone will do anything for it. The question is who needs it more? --Norman

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