Witching Hour

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Trick and Treat

Deja vu, Samantha thought- Of course it’s her thought; I make my presence better known. Why would I be talking n- oop... uh standing before Monica’s. The whore’s test was in her grasp, once more in a nice, clasped, waterproof folder. I’ve been in this place before... Can’t I simply slide it under the door and-

The door flew open. Turned out Monica was more than ready and waiting on the other side for her dear teacher. Although it was still moments before any of the students should have been awake, the whore was all smiles and energy, beaming so hard as to bore a hole through Samantha. One would wonder if she simply conducted the energy from how the light sparked and glistening off her bared, oiled breasts. Samantha could swear she heard a generator humming with each jiggle of them. A set of emerald studs shone in her ears, on her naval... and her left labia, which was all that adorned the quivering Fang as she waved and urged Samantha into her plastic-wrapped den. The air was lousy, burdened with so many scents and oils, all clashing, mingling into a sweet, hot mess that filled Samantha’s head, enticing her to ease, to settle down, relax. And, of course, enjoy.

But she was a woman on a mission- and still on something else, as well.

“Monica,” Samantha grumbled, still allowing herself to be lead to the red curtains, hanged in the center of the room. There were recent, twelve, crude hooks hammered into the metal and the corners of the canvases, making one, long, perfect circle. It was a deep enough shade to hide anything inside yet bold enough to make Samantha shudder with wonder. Whatever laid behind that wall of red was nothing short of prurient. Lascivious intentions that Samantha was not really wanting to cater to. Not at that moment. “I’m still on my period.”

The whore whined, though was lost to giggling as she stopped before the curtain. She took the test out of Samantha’s hand, opening it to show another perfect score, pinched shut as she pushed it in between her breasts and squeezed and leaned towards Samantha as she rubbed them, up and down, against the folder. Her cheeks were almost as red as the curtain beside, getting ever closer with each panted breath.

“I deserve a reward, don’t I,” Monica whined, mewling. “Teacher... or don’t you remember our talk from last time?”

She pressed her chest against Samantha’s shirt, staining the white-striped fabric, soaking it through with the sheer amount of oil. The folder started to slip in between, sliding down into Samantha’s hand, clenching it hard, and Monica followed after. She knelt, sucking on those knuckles, trying to pry them open, to take each of those digits into her lips- but settled for tugging at her black dress, instead, loosing her top from it. Monica giggled as she worked her way up the buttons, standing as she did, and rolled it off from her shoulders, embracing her, all in one, fluid motion.

Without missing a beat she kissed Samantha, and was quicker to use her tongue, pushing into those lips, her pants only growing hotter, turned into steamy moans. Spit trailed after as she eased away, her eyes already so lost to lust, not realizing that Samantha was already backing towards the door. With one more lunge, Monica squeaked, hobbling forward a step as only her teacher’s shirt was left in her clawing hands.

She blinked, and exclaimed, dropping the shirt as she finally saw Samantha. At the door, already open. Samantha had one foot out of it, mid-sprint.

Collapsing into the red veil.

Samantha yipped, muffled by Monica’s breasts as they caught her fall. Her hand was still raised, only starting to lower, still “holding” the metal handle of the barricade now feeling the crimson fabric, how sinfully smooth it truly was. It seemed to waft against her fingers, disturbed but settling from their flight.

Monica tittered as she pulled on Samantha’s shoulder, turning her around to the “toys” scattered inside. Dildos, tons of them, of various colors, sizes, and even shapes. Anal beads, butt plugs, riding crops, handcuffs of both the fuzzy and metal variety, chains bolted into both the ceiling and floor; there were even a few whips, ranging from a cheap, novelty piece to a full cat o’nine tails.

“Where did you get all of this?” Samantha exclaimed, a thought that found no room to really be spoken in her mind, reeling, chugging away at the foray of items that were at Monica’s disposal. At her disposal.

“I had the cat since my time in the navy,” Monica said. “Everything else was a gift from Lilith for Christmas... Well, except Cy over there. That was from you.” She laid down in between the two metal plates for the leg chains and ran her hands down her body, smoothing out that oil again until she reached her thighs, hoisting them up, baring herself to Samantha. “Play with me, Sam. Play with me.”

“But...” Samantha groaned, shaking her head. It’s not like I have much a choice. She’s just going to keep flitting me back until I do. Her eyes darted to the blue dildo. It was by Monica’s foot, and made them twitch something fierce. Besides, nothing like a little bit of revenge.

Samantha took off her dress skirt and tossed it through the curtain, then knelt before Monica. The fang was already all a quiver, her lower folds glistening, brighter than the oil. It was a wonder the whore didn’t catch on fire yet, even more a surprise as Samantha ran her hand over those puffy vulva. Monica moaned louder, her nails digging harder into her thighs as she spread her legs more, holding them above her head. But that wasn’t the sound Samantha wanted- no, demanded. She gave them a nice smack, and a wet ring cascaded through the room. Monica yowled, gushing on her hand from that sudden strike, and held it... for quite a time. Why did Samantha feel she was once an opera singer? It lowered to a shuddering sigh- only to rise as she smacked it again. Samantha found her clit and tugged on it, teasing, stroking it as her other hand groped and clawed at Monica’s rear, making that warbling wail into a song.

Monica let go of her thighs, though still kept her legs raised, spread as both of them delved between her legs, opening those tormented folds for Samantha. Her personal tulip drooled, mingling with the oil as it ran down her leg, a river in its own right. Samantha finally rubbed one a toy, her old toy, over those folds, and those soft flesh petals seemed to suck on it, to pull it towards the center, wanting, needing it. Samantha refused to; in fact, she punished them. She slapped that blue dildo against them, again and again, and even pressed it hard against the whore’s clit –which stiffer than the dildo, itself. Monica whined and whimpered, her eyes sparkling, pleading for her to slide it in... but not just yet. Pleasurable anguish is better than abstinent languish to the whore.

Samantha’s hand gleamed, the dragon on the other huffing and leaving as wind wrapped around the fake phallus, where it was left to continue to sway across her womanhood while she picked up a buttplug. Monica shuddered, biting her lip as she watched Samantha push it... almost too easily inside. Far too easy; she picked up another, spreading that hole a bit more with it, but it still wasn’t enough. She wanted her shuffling in discomfort, wanted her to writhe with just the smallest of stomach grumblings... so she skipped to five. Monica hissed, clawing at herself as Samantha worked them in, stretching it so wide... but, inevitably, they couldn’t hold. She moaned, turned to another yowl, gushing onto Cy and down onto those posterior intruders.

“That’s... that’s i...,” Monica spluttered out, lost behind a storm of pants and moans. “Stretch me. Gape me. T...each me, punish me, t-teach. Teach me t...to be a good slut. Punish me for being such a f...ucking whore.”

She moaned louder, almost wailed, returning to her opera as Samantha picked up another dildo, running it down her body. She rested it in between her breasts then straddled her chest, mashing and squeezing those tits tight on that plastic prick. Monica looked down on it, tongue lulling, wanting to taste it as Samantha thrust against, causing it to rock in between. Her breathing forced it back down after Samantha’s retreat, the oil making it so easy. In truth, Samantha didn’t need to do a damn thing; the whore was tit-fucking herself. It was the force Samantha put behind it that made Monica’s eyes roll back. She tried to wail again, but Samantha finally shoved it into her maw. Monica choked, gagged on it, but suckled it so as she watched Samantha slide down. Her face rested by the whore’s quivering chest, those cherry red tips prodding painfully towards her, begging more than she could truly say.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full,” Samantha stated, and gave Monica’s left tit a long, slow lick. She expected the worst from the oil... but found it fruity. It was a mixture of blueberry, raspberry, and a hint of mint, all culminating on those cherry tips. Samantha sucked on it, biting, gnawed on it, while her hand fished off to the left, finding one of the riding crops. Monica continued to gag on the member, pulling more in, her muffled screams rising as her legs wrapped around Samantha, shuddering from the impact of the crop on her right cheek. Before striking again. And again.

.

Tears streamed down Monica’s face. Her eyes were blank, mind gone to the pleasure, yet still watched Samantha through the haze. She let go of her folds, gripping, wringing, caressing Samantha as she lavished her with all but the chains, cuffs, and whips. After all, there had to be some way to escalate it the next time. For now, with one, final, gagged, dazed, exhausted moan, Monica collapsed. The dildo slid out of her throat, plopping beside, allowing her to pant at last. Her thighs twitched, recoiling from Samantha’s hand, giving her folds one last smack. The wind died down from Cy, simply laying on the whore –which only made her squirm all the more. Samantha left the butt plugs and anal beads in; any time she tried to pull them, Monica clenched and squirted anyways, so... best for her to take those out herself.

“L...love...” Monica gibbered, lost to her cavalcade of pants and moans. “T... tea...”

Samantha simply rolled her eyes, and rose and stepped out of the curtain, hiding the toys and Monica inside it once more as it wafted shut. She gathered her skirt and shirt, throwing them on, but she wanted nothing more than to take a shower before she saw anybody else.

Luckily, there are only three more tests... She left, both relishing and despising the sweet treat still lingering on her lips as it seemed to permeate from her pores, as well. Her mind started to clear, now freed from that tawdry mist, and couldn’t help but note that she was wet. Excessively. Fucking Monica... Thank goodness I plan to take a shower. I am going to make one helluva mess.

She entered the room, not even looking at the bed as she sighed and waved.

“Before you ask, Monica got really naughty this time,” she grumbled, lumbering to the bathroom. “I’m simply thankful I managed to tease her silly; I have no doubt in my mind she would have used those toys on m-”

“Toys, huh? What kind?”

She stopped... and slowly turned to the bed. It wasn’t Ayn, as she assumed, but Minos. He leaned against the wall, all the pillows propped up on it, but his left arm was still behind his head. His right was raised. With his test. A large, red 100. He was smirking at her, wearing a shit-eating grin... and nothing else, a common trend this day.

“Minos... where’s Ayn?” Samantha said, keeping her eyes locked on his, doing her best to simply look bored.

“She went to see Norman. No idea why, but she didn’t seem to be in the best of moods.”

“Getting another failing grade can do that. Especially since- er, if it was lower than before.” She sighed, and sat on the bed, clasping her hands before her. “I don’t know how to get it through to her. It’s like... she has her way of thinking, right? She wants to think in that way, but the process of logical thought is concrete, structured... something she can’t wrap her mind around. She’s trying to brute force it into being her way.”

“Sounds about right. She is incredibly bull-headed.”

She scoffed, smirking. “The irony of a minotaur saying that.”

“And it being true.”

“Nah. That’s not ironic. That’s hilarious.”

“Hilarious? Really? I wouldn’t go that far, but it is incredibly funny.”

“Tomato, potato.”

“Don’t you mean potato, potato, or tomato, tomato?”

“Who’s the teacher?”

“That remains to be seen.”

She scoffed again, and slapped him with her left hand, hitting him in the thigh. The dragon was still missing; Probably went with Ayn... but she sighed.

“So what are you wanting?”

“Sam! You think I want anything? I already get to gloat.”

“Then why do I have a feeling you already answered my question.

“I did.” He chortled, and reached out, rubbing her shoulder. “Seriously, though? Oh... nothing, really. Maybe to cuddle, have a nice meal, watch a few movies-”

“You’re bare-ass naked.”

“What! I am? Everyone’s been telling me I was in the finest set of silk robes. How dare you!” He sat up, embracing her from behind, legs squeezing against hers as she felt his member thrum against her back. “You must be really horny if you only see me as naked... Tell you what. I shall forgive your insult and cure you of your lewd mind all in one, pervasive gesture. All for your sake.”

“How noble of you.”

“If it means saving you from such wicked thoughts, I shall sacrifice my virtue. It’s for the greater good.”

“Ah, the greater good... Well, hate to break it to you, but I’m still on my period.”

“So? It’ll help with the cramping... supposedly.”

“Yes, but... ew.”

“Come on... Nothing ventured nothing gained.”

She rolled her eyes... but... considering what she was going to do anyways, would it have been so bad? Not even a day before, she was day-dreaming about it, feeling him fill her up inside –which, speaking of-

“If we do, and that’s a big IF-”

“Nah. It’s more a checkmark. Feel it?” He thrust against, making her squeak... and rise, matching its arc. She growled while he chuckled even more –turned to hissing as she clenched it in her left hand.

“REGARDLESS... you have to pull out. I’m not ready to be a mom.”

“Ready? Do you even want to be one?”

“Not really. Children are a pain in the ass. Everyone should be sterilized so there would be no more kids. Future generations will thank us.”

“No doubt.” He kissed her neck. She fought not to shudder against those lips, but it proved a losing battle as his hands joined in, pulling at her shirt. Once more it was freed, unbuttoned, and pulled off. With such ease. She felt his member fully on the small of her back now, and how it twitched. And leaked. His pre mingled with the oil residue, squelching as he rocked against, making her gnaw on her own lip.

The final walls of her defenses were breached, moaning as he tugged and teased her breasts. He bit her neck, making her squeak, turned into a long, shuddering exhale as he nibbled on her ear, blowing on it.

“So?” He mulled, reaching around and tugging on her skirt. “Is it still an if?”

“I don’t know,” she breathed, looking up into his eyes, and touched his left horn, rubbing it. “I kind of like it like this. Do we need to ruin the m-”

Her words were stolen, though, her tongue held captive by his sudden seize. He brayed softly into her lips, panting alongside as she continued to tuck and tug on his horn, his lower one bucking against her back even more, even harder. His left hand rubbed her stomach, circling down to its initial target, to that cursed skirt, ripped away. She shuddered at last, feeling his hand so close, only barred by but two pieces of cloth. That didn’t stop his thumb, though. It hooked in, pushing them down a touch, until he found her clit, rubbing it. She moaned, whined into his lips, even yelped as he tamped it, starting to rock against him-

Stopping.

She pulled his horn up, removed him from her lips, and eased his hand away from her panties, panting. Her face felt like it was on fire, and seemed to be the real light of the room.

“How do you do this to me?” She whispered.

He simply chortled, as if he ever stopped, and kissed her, tongue stealing hers again. His hand returned to her panties, working them ever lower until they were around her knees, given full reign as she twitched and squirmed under his digits, teasing her folds. It was a light flow at the moment, but that didn’t stop her from being paranoid, raising and resting on his right leg. Which, also, freed his member from her back. It flopped forward, pulsing, throbbing on her thigh, coating it then her hand in pre. She eased her grip, stroking it, squeezing up to the tip where she gathered then spread the fresh wash all the way down before returning back to it. His growls grew, their pants mingling, rising as the room filled with such lewd noises, stifled by the creaks and groans of the bed, becoming just as impatient.

She popped off his lips, quivering in his arms.

“Okay... but... in the shower.”

He nodded, and chortled as she yipped, lifted up into his arms. Samantha squirmed in his grasp, helping him pull off her panties, left behind as he carried her into the bathroom. She still stroked his horn, nibbling on her lip, watching his face contort as he tried so hard to keep it straight. He was shaking as he prepared the shower, stepping in once it was nice and steamy.

He eased her against the wall, blocking the showerhead, and loomed over her, kissing her once more. His member thrummed against her middle, pressed firm, rocking gently while his hand trailed down there once more. She shuddered and winced as he tugged on her clit once more, fingers delving inside, squelching. He wasn’t the only one that’s going to have fun, though. Samantha gripped his member again, both his horn and his manhood, wrapping her leg around him as she did her best to straddle while standing. Their moans mingled, rising as they pushed each other ever closer to bliss.

Minos gave first, though. And not in hitting his climax. No... he decided to play “dirty”. He let her go, and grabbed the shower head behind, bringing it around and down to her folds. She squeaked, panting, moaning again as the force of the water, the pulse, the intensity pushed her over at last, giving the shower its first wash. The first of many to come.

He leaned down, lapping at her tits. They were still perked from Monica, but under his rough tongue Samantha shuddered and clenched to him so hard, mewling as they ached. She had let go of his member, gripping his shoulder, steadying herself as that shower head continued to bombard her. However, she did not let go of his horn, still teasing it, stroking, goading him on, making him wince as she gripped it, hitting another climax, wailing into his hair.

“I need you,” she managed to say, fighting through another moan. “I n... need you inside me.”

He put the shower head back and looked her in the eyes, closing with hers as they faded into another kiss. She let go of his horn, clawing at both his shoulders as he lifted her by the waist, then tensed, feeling his rod throb against her folds. Slowly, he lowered her down on it, groaning as he eased it in. Inch after inch slipped inside, only stopped when she winced, as her folds squeezed, but continued on as it relaxed, taking up to ten inches of it before forced to stop.

She reached down, her hand taking care of the rest, stroking along as he thrust inside. Slow... At first. He pushed her against the wall, groping at her rear, bouncing her on his member as he grunted and brayed. Her eyes shot open as she squeaked into his lips, turned to yowls, rising higher with each smack of his balls and his palm on her ass, squirting, clenching ever harder. She managed to look over his shoulder, a moment of clarity, seeing the bottom of the tub, and wished she hadn’t, preferring the wall or her eyes simply being shut again, ignoring that murder scene.

However, there was something she couldn’t ignore, fighting to be free of his lips as he rubbed her clit, making her tighten quick, quicker than what she wanted. He groaned, forced to stop at last, throbbing inside as she hit her climax. Her hips shuddered, hard, and she writhed in his grasp, while her nails dug into his shoulder, drawing blood, matching her scream. At last, her wail settled, her folds relaxed, and he resumed, though it was far harder for him, balancing her ever-twitching body and teasing her to ever higher heights. Her mind was swimming, drunk from it and the oils once more raised into the fine mist around.

Gently, Minos lowered her to the bottom of the tub. He raised her legs high, as high as they would go, thrusting down inside her. His balls ached against her, slamming, hammering against as his grunts and growls rose to a b-

Oh no.

“W-wai- d-don’t cum in-” Samantha stammered, heart skipping a beat at his chortling. Which took on an all new feeling. His eyes had gained an evil light, pure malevolence bearing down on her as he continued to fuck faster. He grabbed her hands, holding them above her head, completely powerless to his will. “W-why are y-”

“Oh, I’m gonna cum inside. I’m gonna get that belly nice and stuffed full of my baby batter.”

“N-no. I don’t want t... want to...”

She cried out again, forced into another wave of pleasure, and her folds squeezed hard on his manhood, wanting, needing what he had. She clenched her hands, tried so hard to wrench free, but he simply continued, his chuckling rising to an evil cackle, grunting.

As he shot inside her. At last.

He looked her dead in the eyes, brow twitching with each blast inside, making her stomach gurgle with it, her vision blot with tears.

“And now you are mine,” he said, kissing her with every other word. He caressed her face with his free hand, hips rocking, grinding against, still filling her. “My little cum slut. I can’t wait to see your belly pudgy with our child –oh my. You got a lot tighter there. Does the idea of being stuffed with one of my kids turn you on that m... ooh... it does.”

He thrust a few more times, reaching down to stroke out the rest before he popped off. He picked her up again, letting her feel his love drool out and hear it splash down into the water. Her hands were finally free, and she slapped him, again and again, bawling against his chest.

“Why?” She shrieked. “You knew I didn’t-”

“So, uh, I thought you should know now: I shoot blanks.”

She blinked... and looked up at him.

“What?”

“Yeah. Completely sterile. Junmei has a copy of the folders in his room. Forty-one separate cases and test samples. We can go get it later, but... yeah.” He smirked at her, grabbing the shower head behind one last time and gave her folds one last wash before he rinsed out the tub, carrying her back to the bed. She continued to glare at him, a certain smolder burning in her eyes, making him laugh even more. “What? Don’t believe me?”

“Oh, I do. I do,” she said, her very words smoldering, “but this puts a new responsibility on you.”

“And what’s th-”

Samantha pounced on him, pushing him down on the bed as she kissed him. She moaned against his lips, stroking his horn again... and the one on his head, making him shudder and try to shrink under her haughty gaze. Her eyes had not but lust in them, boring into Minos’s eyes, panting once more.

“This means you have to fill me whenever I demand it, my new cock slave.”

He... chortled, and smacked her ass, rubbing it again, though he couldn’t hide his shivering.

“As you wish, my mistress,” he said, his voice cracking a touch. He scratched at his chin, looking a bit nervous. “I, uh, I take it you liked it?”

“Liked it?” It was her turn to laugh, mewling as she licked his chin, running up to his nose, nipping it. “You are going to fuck me until this room is the Red Sea.”

“M... mercy?”

“What the fuck is that? After all, you said you would sacrifice yourself. All for the greater good.”

It’s what you wanted, Minos. Aren’t you happy? You are one step closer to what you have always wanted... What Ayn now cries about. How can you play with so many girls? Don’t worry, though: I’ll take care of everything. As I always do.

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