Do you Believe in Magic?
There were multiple... multiple reasons Samantha wasn’t... enthused to meet with Ginger. As none of you are, as well. You know her reasons –at least, the obvious. She had her fair share of reasons to at least be happy she was going, though. Ayn’s ire included, since the skinwalker scored . Out of all the students, the spayed succubus scored the lowest –nowhere near the numbers Monica hit in the past, which did boost Samantha’s ego, at least. If only a touch; none of her students hit single digits or lower... for once.
It was still a cause for concern. Ginger’s score was still far lower than what she usually got. If Samantha could find out what Ginger failed to understand about the lesson, she could return to Ayn with a better arsenal to defend herself with (and put that wench in her place; a feeling better than sex), but it might be hard to do. Words can only protect so much against fists and nails.
Samantha stood before Ginger’s door, ready to welcome the sweet smell of death. She knocked on the door, and w-
The door flew open, Ginger waiting on the other side. Wrapped in a towel. For once, her skin dripped of water. Not fat, not deteriorated skin, not greasy, black oil, but of aqua purificata.
“Ginger! Hi,” Samantha said, and sniffed. The air didn’t even have a hint of decay. Instead, her room exuded an aura of honey and vanilla, wafting out into the hall. “You’re looking... healthy.”
“Thanks.” She said, giggling as she removed the towel, showing that her skin was still mostly intact. The lower folds of her fat were starting to bloat, her breasts slightly off-colored... but, for the most part, it still looked as fresh as the day the person was killed –a knife wound to the chest, from the look of it. The skin in between her mammaries had a bright scar, twisted to look almost like an hour glass, but she doubted it was sand that felt out of the pierced form... Ginger took a step back, motioning to the room. “Come in, come in. Don’t be a stranger.”
Normally, Samantha would take that as be very much a stranger. In fact, be a ghost and fly away. However, considering how much effort Ginger put into not only herself but the room- especially the room. The once drab, white walls were given life, with such passionate strokes of color. Bright oranges, purples, and blues woven across the square tapestry she now lived in. The skinwalker found an oak nightstand somewhere, placed by her bed with three candles on it. They were lit, filling the room with that honey and vanilla scent. Samantha wondered what the third one was, hidden underneath the others, and was left even more confused when she picked it up and read what it was.
“What the hell is a shooting star supposed to smell like?” She muttered.
“No idea,” Ginger said behind, making her jump... and almost drop the candle. “It’s far too subtle. Lit it first and took a smell, but even then I couldn’t really tell.”
She giggled, sitting on the bed. Still in the buff, tarnishing those new sheets with her damp rear, darkening, moistening those bright red silks and dark blue flannel. She crossed her legs, smiling so sweetly at Samantha, and rolled her wrist in her clutches.
“So I did that poorly, huh?”
“Huh? Why do you say that?”
“You usually save me for last.” She swiped the test out of Samantha’s hand, and whistled, long, loud, piercing as she gave that paper an even longer look. “Oh, shoot... I sort of hoped I did better than that.”
“So you knew you didn’t get it, huh?”
“Nope. Not at all.” She sighed, and handed the test back. “Logic and I don’t exactly see eye-to-eye- there I go again, making another rhyme. I swear I make them at the worst time. Heh; maybe I was a poet and didn’t even know it.”
“Please don’t. I’ve had my share of rhymes during the holiday.”
“Okay, okay... so... what do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know... Where can we start- wait! Why don’t you and logic don’t get along.”
“Well... look at what I am, Sam- there! It happened again. I swear I’m not doing them on purpose... But yeah. Look at what I am. I live in dead bodies. I am the living dead. I may not want brains, but the idea’s the same. I’m a corpse-walker – which, even then, the logic behind it is incredibly shaky. I’m immortal in a rotting body or in my true form; however, catch me filling a new husk and I can be killed. I literally melt to fit a body. Melt! How does one explain a body- a person- a thing simply melting to become a person? I and all other Skinwalkers are an affront to nature and logic, so of course I’m not going to understand it.”
“Okay... but what about the grammar?”
“Oh. That’s even easier: why bother to learn the terminology when you do all of it secondhand anyways? Why bother learning what a gerund is when you are speaking it? Why does it matter if you know an indirect or direct object in a sentence or where it even is? I mean outside of context and syntax, which, again, arguably self-explanatory, there’s no real need to know them... What? What’s wrong... Something on my face?”
Indeed, Samantha could only stare at her as she stated all of that, smiling, unable or unwilling to grasp the irony of it... The witch shook her head, cleared her throat, and stood again.
“Well,” she squeaked, “I guess we are done here... I guess you’ll do better than, or at least on par with, this test next time?”
“Yeah. I should... Sam?”
“How is that man of yours doing?”
“Man? You mean Mahna?”
Her eyes glittered at the mention of his name. “Yes. I haven’t seen him carry you back through the Halls. Is everything all right between you two?”
“I don’t know, to be honest. We ‘broke up’ before the holidays... Well, I say that, but more like he cut off all communication and his sister sent me a threatening message when I gave him the vile four-letter statement –this time for real.”
“Oh... so you don’t see each other anymore?”
“Not as far as I know.”
“Does that mean he won’t be coming back?”
“I suppose not.”
She huffed, and the light was gone. “Oh... Later, then.”
Samantha gave her a two-finger salute and left her room, leaving her on the bed. She swapped Ginger’s test for Minos’, neither deserving of folders. Like Monica’s, sweet... sweet... addictive Monica. That isn’t to say that Minos didn’t pass. In fact, he had the fifth highest grade, but, considering the first was Monica, of all people, she deserved that extra, special step... and more.
Samantha skipped over to the minotaur’s room, smacking the test against the door. It scratched against, hissed, as if shearing the metal, but it was enough to summon him, swinging it open with abandon.
“I get to see you twice in one day? Feeling pretty lucky,” he sung.
Samantha simply rolled her eyes and pushed in. Avoiding his bed at all cost, moved directly in front of the door. She, also, didn’t want him in the way to the exit, leaning against the wall beside until he closed it and sat on the bed. Still right in front of the d- where it originally was; thank you, floor, for sliding it. She smirked at him, holding her head high as she sauntered over to the loveseat along the left wall. It was once white, now more a soft yellow, bleached by the lights overhead.
She handed him his test, a resounding eighty-five on it... but he simply huffed and tossed it across the room, towards the bathroom.
“H-hey,” she cried out, giving chase after.
Realizing too late that’s what he wanted.
He grabbed her from behind and pushed her to the ground, snickering as he spread her legs with his knees. He kept a firm palm on her back, the other rolling up her skirt, exposing her rear and lower lips to him.
“M-minos-” She cried out, writhing against as he rubbed her ass. “What are y-”
“Relax, teach. I’m not doing anything... yet.” He sucked on his teeth, and chuckled as he gave her rump an open-palmed smack, ringing in the room. Samantha moaned, and grimaced as her entire body shuddered from the hit. “Again, this booty goes pow!”
She was cut off again as she smacked her ass once more. With both of his hands. He groped, kneaded, clawed at it, all the while his thumbs teased lower, getting ever closer to her folds only to circle up to her other hole. She felt something prod against her legs, pushing against the cloth of his pants, only making it that much harder to hold her voice.
“I have a confession to make, teach,” he said, leaning over her. He clasped her shoulders, rubbing, holding them firm, and lifted her up and back against his chest, kissing her neck. “I know this will come as a shock, but I need you to be sitting for this.”
He gripped her waist again, lifting her up enough for him to unfold his legs underneath, and settled her into his lap. At least, as best as he could. His member rose in between, prodding at her thighs. The soft, gray fabric of his pants could barely conceal it, thrumming, smacking back against.
“I... have the biggest fucking hard-on for you.”
“Say it ain’t so,” she said, feigning a gasp, metal sizzling and hissing and sparking with the dragon that grew and rose from her thumb. “Oh my. Oh dearie me, I would have never guessed.”
“I know, right? It’s like I have had the hots for you since you first came down here, and it was only magnified when you gave me head.”
“Such a charmer... You have three seconds before I turn you into hamburger. Onetwo-”
“... Knew what?”
“Yes, you knew, but what?”
“W-will you give me a chance-”
“I KNEW... then and there... when you were moments away from passing out on my chode- I’m getting there! Settle!”
“Then stop molesting me while doing so!”
“Like you aren’t enjoying-” His right horn fell with a hollow thunk, fragments raining after, shaved off as the long, metal wing of the dragon unfurled into its leathery folds again. The other wing was still raised, a spike, aimed for his eye... settling as he let her intimate areas go. Sadly. “Okay... That you and I were meant for more.”
“For more, huh? More what?”
“More than just head, of course.”
Samantha scoffed as she tried to pull free of his grasp, but he held true. All that she was able to accomplish was to grind against his bulge, making it throb more... and her that much wetter. She continued to endure, trying still to keep her voice even, to not pant, made even harder as he lifted up her shirt and tweaked her left nip again. He continued to kiss her neck, nipping it, biting up to her ear as he growled. Softly, for now.
“What do you say, Sam?” He said, and finally broke her stalwart disposition, making her yelp then moan as he stroked and teased her clit. He thrust gently under, making her bounce in his lap, which only made her rub more against his bulge. “Are you ready to take this relationship to the next level?”
“And what would that be?”
“Well, we’d go from being teases to fuck buddies...es.”
“D... did you try to rhyme tease with buddies?”
“It works without the S, okay?”
“What is it with you people and your obsession to make everything rhyme today.”
“Who knows? Bees, maybe?” He groaned, and stuck a finger into her folds, making it squelch. And her moan. He continued to stroke her clit, toying with it with his thumb as he continued to pull on her breast, sucking on her neck. All while staring down that dragon. “Come on... you know you want to.”
“I... I do, but...”
She wriggled free at last, falling forward out of his grasp, and turned around, staring him in the eyes.
“I need to know if it’s actually me wanting this. Not some twisted mindfuck spell you had Norman cast.”
“I had Norman do what now?”
“Before Christmas, he... confronted me. The way he acted, something told me you “paid” him a visit.”
“I... don’t exactly remember that. I don’t remember making any sort of wish or demand to him. You sure?”
“No... At least, not really. I don’t know, either. I’m... confused.”
“What? Why? It’s not like I’m asking you to be my girl or anything. You’re not getting any, I’m not getting any; we would just be using each other. There’s no love to be had. Only sex.”
“Oh. That so, huh?” Samantha stood, fixing her dress and top far too many times that day for her liking, and started to head for the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Does it matter? There’s no love here.”
She reached the door.
When he caught her hand.
He was rubbing his head with his other, looking at the ceiling, but his cheeks had a nice shade of red in them.
“Okay. Call my bluff why don’t you... Maybe... perhaps there’s a touch of love in here- an iota- a microscopic speck of it.”
“We haven’t exactly had dinner yet, have we?”
“Is that what you are proposing, then? Dinner?”
“Why not? I’m always up for free food... So what are you making?”
“A big old batch of make-it-your-damn-self-or-go-fuck-Monica.”
“You know, on second thought, I think I will cook.”
“You sure? I can even garnish it with get-her-really-fucking-horny with a bit of being-a-good-friend-and-passing-on-something-juicy. That last one is especially hard to pull off, but after my last jungle exploration... I think I have enough to spare.”
“Nah. I’ll cook. As long as you are fine with shells-and-cheese.”
“Shells-and-cheese? That’s the best you can do?”
“With tiny, little, bacon bits?”
… Samantha shrugged, and waltzed into his arms. She coiled her hands behind his neck, rubbing it, just scratching her nails along it as she looked into his eyes.
“That will have to do, I suppose. How soon can you have it done?”
“In three hours... if I do it now, oh, thirty minutes.”
“Expecting a lot?”
“You never fail to please.”
“I’m afraid to say today is going to be that time. I’m still exhausted after Monica.”
Minos sighed, finally fanning his arms in defeat.
“Fine. Fine... I’ll settle for a blow job, but I get to cum on your face and tits.”
“Hand job. Tits are fine, but you can only shoot in my mouth.”
He chortled, and backed into his bed, plopping on it. The dragon huffed, clonking out of the room as Samantha knelt before the minotaur, smiling so coy. She pulled off her top and tossed it aside, kissing his thigh as he worked his pants off, allowing his member to be freed. It “jumped” in triumph, already oozing its love from that meaty top, filling her head with its intoxicating musk.
Minos stroked it, slowly, yet it already made such lewd sounds, absolutely doused and shimmering with pre. It twitched hard as Samantha reached it, with both her mouth and head. His hand left as her tongue passed over, hand taking his place, rubbing it. She ran her thumb down her fingers, squeezing the head, working more dollops out, trailed down its length by her tongue before her other hand gripped it. He groped her breasts again, squeezing, caressing them, spoiled for choice as it also bounded and met those palm-sized beauties. Her mouth was sodden, head in the clouds, but she fought to keep only her hands on it while her tongue teased away.
Minos moaned, tugging her chest while his head lulled back. His eyes fought to stay open, glazed with passion, looking at her tease and work him. He looked so... pitiful without his other horn; her legs weren’t seeing much use at the moment. They could afford to be sealed away while his horn was reattached. However, it cost her focus, and it wasn’t long before it wasn’t only pre but drool raining down upon his member. Her lips clasped it again and again, as if drawn like a magnet, rising ever closer to its glistening head.
Until she couldn’t fight it anymore.
She licked the tip once more time, tasting his pre, and shuddered as she closed her mouth over it at last, gulping each dollop down. Her spit made sure it would never go dry, though, running down to her hands, squelching away on him.
But she was still a woman of her word. It wasn’t a full blow job; she only catered to the head. Her hands... hand worked the rest, her left giving up its post to fondle below, to knead those engorged baubles. Minos’ moans rose, becoming growls and soft bellows as she sucked and slurped away. He let go of her right breast, trailing up to her face then hair, tugging at it a touch before caressing, as if petting her.
But then his hips began to buck. His eyes shut, lost to his primal desire. He gripped her head, tried to push her down on it, but she remained firm, only keeping that thickening head in her lips. The rest of it twitched so much in her hand, stroking so fast, leaving behind almost a sheer, white film of foam and froth. His grunts thundered through the room, his bed begging for mercy, already having been through so much, but Samantha was going to make sure he knew what he really was bargaining for.
She had magic hands after all.
Minos cried out, bellowing, as his climax finally came... but nothing followed it. He gasped. His eyes flew open, neck cracking as he looked down in horror, realizing. He paled, seeing the metal seep into the base of his member, sealing a very special duct. Samantha had an evil glimmer in her eye as her other hand on those precious baubles was glowing pink, making them gurgle.
“W-w-w-what a-” He stammered, hissing, almost crying out as she continued to stroke him, sucking harder on his pitiful member. It knew it was meant to be done, then and there. It was supposed to fire, but now it was locked in limbo, in pleasure purgatory, forced to stand and continue to feel, unable to go numb or shrink away. Until Samantha, its true master, allowed it.
She popped off the head, giving it a lick, and sneered at him.
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” She said, stroking him to yet another unfilled climax. His rod seemed to whip back against his stomach, his whole body convulsing, wanting to get away, but the iron floor had his legs, the iron frame his waist, his hands locked in a crown of silver on her head. His orbs gurgled ever louder, puffing out as the base of his member did the same, starting to turn a touch blue.
“Y-you’re going to ruin it-” He tried to stammer out, panting too hard to say anything else.
“Don’t worry. I can heal it back to normal... I just want to make sure you are fully satisfied. Fully, truly satisfied. You did say at one point that you wanted to be drained bone dry; why don’t we try?”
He could only bellow and whimper as round after round of excruciating pleasure washed over him, his eyes lost between terror and bliss. His member only grew more blue, almost gray as time waned on. His orbs became black as jet, each the size of a medicine ball, thumping on the ground, but she was still not done. She wouldn’t stop until he begged her, until he was truly sorry for taking advantage of her, that anybody took advantage of her, and wouldn’t even bat an eye if each ended up the size of a schooner and his rod was the rotting sail. That was why the dragon left; no one deserved this fate... Save for pricks like Minos.
“Please! Samantha!” He wailed not too long after, much to her own displeasure. Thankfully, it was cut by another wave, each orb gaining at least another two inches in diameter. Tears blotted in his eyes, a shaking, quivering smile on his lips as he looked down at her. “Please. I’m so sorry.”
“For?” She said, sucking on the head. It had gotten so sensitive that her lips even closing added another few inches below, wracking his vocal cords.
“For taking advantage of you.”
“And why is that?” She gave his sphere’s sack a long lick down, giggling as they both grew three sizes at that moment.
“Because... I... I actually... do care for you.”
“Uh-huh.” It was almost girlish in how he said it, every fiber of his being shaking hard enough to send thunder through the room. “I really... really like you. Bu... you... you know. Me, a d... dick.”
“You’re right. You are a dick... Lucky for you, I like dicks.”
“S... so I see... So if you will just release me, I can make you dinner and you can call it a night.”
“And why would I do that? You’re just going to blab to everyone that you had me again. Your easy, sleazy teacher.” She ran her tongue around the slit of his manhood, and the smallest drop of cum finally escaped, too bloated to hold any more. She stroked it, languishing, her hand unable to even consider wrapping around it anymore, four times her grip. “Do you see me as that easy now, Minos? Do you?”
“N... no. N... not at all.”
“Then what do you see me as?”
“A sadistic fucking bitch!”
“And you still care for me?”
She blinked. He didn’t even have to think of it, though he did have to breathe through another hellish round of ejaculatus interruptus. She pulled his member, aimed it for her chest, and let both metal holds on him go, welcoming the deluge. Minos uttered such a relieved, pitiable noise as gallon after gallon was dumped against her, coating her breasts, her shoulders, up to her neck and down to her waist in it. And even her legs as the room started to fill with it. His hands were let go, and he flung himself back on the bed, grabbing a pillow and biting down as there seemed to be no end in sight.
At last, his baubles returned to normal... in truth, a touch smaller than when she began. His member seemed to flee in terror from her tongue, catching the last few fountain spurts from it as she chased after. It seemed to retract into him in its flight, but it could only shrink so much, and she was not done cleaning it. Minos simply laid there, twitching, gnawing, moaning, whimpering into his pillow until Samantha stood and laid on top of him, covering him in a dripping shroud of his own mess.
“Well? About those shells-and-cheese?” She said, tittering as he lowered the pillow an inch and gave her a disdainful look only to raise it back in place.