Girls Night Out
Samantha tossed and turned through all night, but not from her usual demons. She woke, often, to check her phone, only to be disappointed. It was only a few minutes since she last checked, every single time. Which, by her lofty standard, was already taking forever as it was.
After the week she had, she was more than happy, and ready, to go be stupid, regardless if they ended up liking her or not. The important part of it all was she was would be out of the box. She would be away from that high-pitched whine and the cold hand of death that seemed to rake down her spine, only adding to how much she tossed and turned and rolled. Who knew she traded one demon for another.
But! Now it made her bounce, dance, and hum along to her phone as she scrubbed away. The cell was left on the sink, just heard enough over the rushing torrent and her singing to give her fluttering heart some rhythm as she showered. In complete, utter peace. She made sure of that; the handle was all that remained on her “door”. It was ready to “pull” like a “zip-tie” when she was ready. By her. Not anybody else. Though that didn’t stop them from trying. And they did try.
Who was that... Minos? Nah, too soft... Ayn? Samantha thought, straightening her shower cap again. The last thing she needed was for her hair to frizz; would take hours to smooth out. She got lucky the other day with how thirsty it was, but now? She had no doubt it would be another niggling.
She scoffed, reminded that word was a thing. As well as hearing someone continue to scratch on the “door”. As the song faded, she, also, heard a whimper.
Of course it’s Monica.
She waited for the scrapes and whines to dull and fade and wail away before she stepped out. Water continued to drip behind into the tub, her cadence to the next song. Her booty still bounced, bounding with the music as she toweled off. She waved her hand, the tip of her middle encased in silver, and a bright, sequin blue tube top floated from her bedroom, through the air, and widened a moment for her head before fitting snugly on her chest... only to raise again for her push-up bra, giving some definition in it. She exclaimed and snickered at her panties, raising each heel in turn to allow them to slink up her calves, her thighs, covering her modesty before backup arrived to steal the thunder. She wouldn’t forget the sacrifice and duty that black thong gave, but it was the golden mini skirt that was the star of the show tonight.
Until she went to put on her make-up, of course.
She waved again, the bit of metal pulsing, going further down the digit as the sinfully thin wire attached pulsed into the metal, and a tiny, pink bag “floated” from her desk to her, unzipping, allowing the mascara and lipstick free. The air seemed to flash, showing the row upon row of razor-thin strings that seemed to lace from the roof, carrying it to her. They were both a lovely shade of blue-
But it had to wait. Her phone buzzed. At long last.
She shooed them away, but they wouldn’t go without some distress. They smacked against her hand, hard enough to make the metal digit ring, and then as she commanded, allowing her phone to take over. There was a message from a B.
Samantha sent her reply. Though she wanted it to be far longer, she played it cool and only stated that she was almost done. She received a two-letter confirmation, and dismiss the cell. It “floated” over to her purse by the “door” to her bedroom, sinking into one of its six black-and-gold flaps on its blue body, and she finally allowed the make-up to do its thing.
Thankfully, it didn’t take long, and she put on her sapphire heels by herself. The make-up returned to her nightstand as she clacked through to the bedroom, slowed only a moment for her to rend the “door” aside. She was too excited to care how much it weighed her arm down nor how much shrapnel she left behind, which was matched by the bounce in her purse, hanging off her right arm. It slapped hard against her as she skipped down the stairs, heading for the bend. The entrance would not be l-
She cried out, and recoiled on the steps, falling on them. What she was worried about, though, was her make-up. It worked hard on that... She pulled her phone out and checked. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to have smeared, but she still slapped the cell back in and glowered at Minos –which she was, also, grateful that none was on his chest. He had been waiting around the corner, along with a rather... broken Monica. The whore-in-training was simply staring at the ground, rocking back and forth, mumbling to herself.
Minos nudged Monica’s shoulder, but she didn’t even seen to notice, simply flowing with his goading towards Samantha.
“Look what you did to her. How can you be so heartless?” Minos said, rubbing Monica’s shoulders. “She only wanted to peep and take away your privacy for her pleasure. How could you be so cruel?”
“Easy. She stole the only dick I wanted to fuck me down here.” Samantha stated, and grimaced as her phone buzzed in her phone. “If you don’t mind, I’m in a hu-”
She had looked down only a moment, had taken her focus off him for an iota, and he had used that to not only close in but to reach behind and grip her rear. Specifically, her left cheek. He mulled as he squeezed it, raising her skirt, while she fought hard not to shudder as he slapped it.
“Damn. It’s nicer than I expected,” he said, and simply chortled as she smacked his cheek. On his face.
“You are such a pig!” She shrieked, and slapped him again. This time, though, he did not laugh, instead slammed into the wall by the metal that had overtaken it. Monica simply listed back a step. The poor girl was still mumbling to herself, lost to the world around her. Minos, however, recovered... and continued to laugh. He sniffed, and wiped his nose, the back of his hand coated in red.
“Totally worth.” He nudged Monica’s shoulder. “No wonder you are always trying to chase that ass.”
“Ass?” Monica said, and looked up. The light in her eyes sparkled, seeing Samantha, and she cheered as she leaped towards her. “Teacher!”
Samantha stepped to the side, and groaned as her phone buzzed again.
“You see? You are making me unbelievably late!”
“For what? Handball against the door?” Minos said, while Monica whined, sobbing onto the steps.
“I’ll have you know I’m going out tonight. Unlike you, I’m not bound down here and can come and go as I please.”
“Well, I can make you cum, if you p-”
“I, also, have friends out there waiting for me. Incredibly patiently.”
Minos... shook his head. “I’m sorry, what? You have those? Really!”
“I’m as surprised as you. I’ll be even more surprised if they still are since you keep holding me up!”
“But I want to hold you up!” Monica whined, falling into Minos as she tried to pounce on Samantha’s back, side-stepped once more. “Dammit! Let me love you!”
“So, I can’t hang around here any longer,” Samantha said. Her brow twitched again, harder than ever, as her phone continued to add to the stress. The whine didn’t help, both from Monica and the Black Halls, themselves, and Minos’s chuckle only made her head hurt worse, made the blood burn that much hotter. Even more as he yawned and gave her a pity wave, stepping out of the way.
“Then go,” he said, stroking Monica’s hair. “I’ll simply be here tending to those you hurt.”
“R-really?” Monica said, looking up at him. She wrapped a leg around his, and rubbed herself against. “It’s all I ever want-”
“Shut up. The adults are speaking- and stop that!”
“But you said-”
“Fine!” Samantha said, stepping around. “Good. I will- am leaving.”
He gestured to the hall.
“Good. Go... Oh, and make sure to get laid, at least. Maybe then you won’t be such a bitch.”
“I’m a bitch? I’m a bitch!”
“I think that’s what I said, yeah. You. Are. A. Bitch.”
“Oh, you have some nerve! Just because I don’t want to lay with y- shut up! I’m on my way! Stop texting me, you fucking skank!”
Minos sucked on his teeth. “If that’s how you treat friends, I really don’t want to see what you do with your boy toys. I feel bad for the guy you are about to rape.”
“Oh, I plan to! If it means pissing you off, I’ll get an entire party to run a train on me. I’ll have so many cocks that I’ll be white when I come through that door in the morning, and the first thing I’m going to do is go into your room and give you a big ole fucking hug!”
Monica... slid off of Minos, and bowed before Samantha.
“Teach me your ways, professor. Take me under your wing!” She squealed, and Samantha didn’t even see her get up, jump, nor even lunge as she wrapped herself around her and hung off her back. “Take me with you, almighty Eros!”
“G-get off me! You have Minos!”
“Don’t sic that thing on me,” Minos grumbled. Which made Monica moan –and reminded Samantha of a certain joke.
“But you said-”
“I know what I said!” He growled, and that utterance seemed to have been the key to unlocking that clasp on Samantha’s back. Monica slithered off and around his arm, instead, kissing it. Minos, though, only had eyes for Samantha at that moment, glaring at her. “Shouldn’t you going? Guys can’t wait forever. They sort of go... soft.”
“Yeah. They do. And I can’t exactly wait around here all the time for the chance to polish your h-”
Shit. Did I really say that aloud?
He guffawed. Her thought was most likely painted on her face, making him laugh harder.
“And the truth comes out! I knew I would win you over with my brutish charm.”
“It’s intoxicating,” Monica said, trilling a little as he stroked her hair. Her lips smacked against his forearm, nuzzling it, looking up into his eyes. “You’re really going to console me, aren’t you?”
“But of course. We’re going to cuddle and enjoy a nice day together in each others arms... oh. With the occasional mind-blowing sex, of course. It’s the price I pay for the professor’s selfishness and cruelty. I am truly her keeper.”
He winked at Samantha, the smile a complete contrast to the fire in her chest. She was already seeing red... but... did her best to keep her voice even as she drew in a deep breath.
“Brute is right,” she said, slowly, and made her way down the hall. The steel crackled and shrieked, rising behind her in thick, jagged shards. With each step they grew higher, spread further, until she slammed the entrance shut with a terrible screech. She leaned against the door, wind howling through the hall, lapping at the metal on her arms, on her feet, shoes enduring it as she took some time to simply... breathe.
She shook her head, and looked back at the door. It had started to mold around her, tried to pull her back into its embrace, but it was returned to normal as she sighed again. However, she still had more checks to do. She made sure the lock was latched proper, double, triple-checked her card to make sure Lilith didn’t pull yet another fast one... or she messed with it in any way in her tirade.
But she had to think of Lilith, didn’t she? She had to get her blood pumping again? After all, how else was she supposed to react when her phone started blasting in the morning, from a number she had no idea about telling her it was time to go out for a “bitch night”.
Thankfully, B had clarified what lovely L meant, and T simply went with the flow. And what a flow it was, constant from then... She blinked, and saw that the door to the Black Halls was open again. And that Minos was still there at the end. He gave a little wave, and she rolled her eyes, slamming it one last time. Her cheeks were a bit flushed, thankfully left behind as she turned around-
Heart racing anew.
“Hi,” a red-haired girl said, soft, calm... so much unlike Samantha. She clawed her way up the wall, almost parallel with the ceiling. The ginger, though, simply gigged, making her chest bound with each. That green tank top barely held over those watermelon-sized breasts, their spaghetti-straps ready to snap at any moment, already straining to keep her soft, yellow bra from being exposed. She held out her hand to Samantha, her nails, also, emerald green, complementing her tanned skin well as well as matching her eyes. They were untouched by her red curls, tied back into a loose ponytail, allowing her heart-shaped face its full beauty. And luster. She would fit right at home in an old harlequin romance novel, and probably had more than her fair share of adventures like them. “Come on. We’ve been waiting for you. The others are in the car.”
“B-er, Bridget I take it.” Samantha said, but took her hand all the same.
The world rippled. Thunder cracked. Lightning flowed from Bridget’s hair, fading a touch as clear, open sky opened above, taking with it the last boom of the storm that had swirled about them. The last flecks of energy flowed down to their feet, lost to the concrete outside of Vereor Nox Academy and before a silver sedan, rumbling away. Samantha couldn’t care less of what was around, though. Nor the power the other witch had.
She was too busy looking up.
The moon was full this night, blocked by only the smallest of clouds, lazing across that cosmic sea, but it might as well have been heaven for her. It felt so long since she could reach up and not scrape her hands on metal, that if she jumped it would suck her into that starry embrace. And it had only been a week; she dared not think if it had been any longer. She sniffed, smelling fresh air, true fresh air, and the bitter tang of smog from the car, truly bringing tears to her eyes. Bliss, in its purest, happiest form.
“Hey! Hello! You in there?”
Samantha blinked, and saw a pale hand wave before her, “covered” in finger-less, tattered gloves. Its owner had black hair, which was loose, allowed to sprawl down her front and back. Their tips were dyed purple, matching her purple “shirt”. It was incredibly loose in the front, dipping low and deep, giving her lovelies more than enough freedom –and they were happy to take it. They were the smallest yet, but had a roundness that couldn’t be ignored or covered by any other bra, even if she did wear one (and still dwarfed Samantha’s). Her black jeans were tucked into a pair of old boots; however, she snapped again, and pulled Samantha’s gaze back to her face, seeing way too many shades of purple painted on. Yet they were dull compared to the coating on her lips, locked into a smirk.
“There we go. Didn’t want you to go on a journey yet,” she said, giggling as she took Samantha’s hands. She lead her to the back seat of the car. “Not without us.”
She pushed Samantha in first, thrust and squeezed and pressed against the blonde back there. Her hair was curled and bouncing with any movement, especially with how the raven-haired rebel compressed poor Samantha against that busty bimbo of a wall. Her bright red tube top fought so hard, strained against her chest. She had the biggest pair of the three, each as large as a meteorite plummeting through the sky and landing on the luckiest guy in the world not once but twice over, but it came with a price. Her clothes; even now, that red dress was already starting to split down the middle, exposing her fair skin in between the cosmic bodies in between.
The door slammed, and Samantha was pulled back by the black-haired lass, and the blonde finally noticed them. She giggled as she poked and prodded at Samantha’s belly, making her laugh.
“N-no! Stop. I’m ticklish,” Samantha exclaimed, laughing harder.
“Shouldn’t have told us,” the black-haired woman said. “Tickle more, Tanya!”
“Easy, girls,” Bridget said, taking her place behind the wheel. “We can’t scare away a new sister... yet.”
“Hah!” Samantha blurted. “After this week, this is n... oh my gods, this is normal. This is the new normal now!”
The black-haired one shushed her, patting her head... but still continued to tickle.
“It’s okay... you’ll get used to it.”
Bridget simply rolled her eyes, but beamed at the three of them through the vanity mirror.
“Trust me. We had just as much trouble settling in starting out,” she said. “Heck, the first time I met Lola she called me-”
“A bimbo with a southern accent,” she and the black-haired one, Lola, said at once. Lola heaved a weary sigh, and nodded to the blonde. “Can you blame me? I had to first deal with Tanya, and there is no doubt she is one. I thought it was a trend or some shit.”
“But wouldn’t that make you one?” Tanya said, still plucking, tickling Samantha, as well.
“S-stop! I’m gonna pee,” Samantha exclaimed, and they did show restraint, allowing her to pant and recover. “Thank you... I’m Samantha, by the way, but you can call me Sam.”
“Uh, isn’t it a bit late for introductions?” Lola said, but simply shrugged. “The trend continues, it seems... I’m Lola. The one in my seat is Bridget, and the bimbo over there is Tanya.”
“I am actually a Tanya named bimbo,” Tanya said.
“Are you always so mellow?” Samantha said.
“Kind of her specialty,” Bridget said, giving Lola a dirty look. “She only gets angry when she uses magic... and what do you mean your seat? You’re the one that climbed in back-”
“Because I wanted to break in the newbie,” Lola said, trying to climb over the seat. “I’m driving tonight! Last week you almost ran us off the road.”
“H-hey! No! And you can’t blame me. There was a squirrel-”
“Fuck the squirrel! There was a semi.”
“So you’re BLT?” Samantha said, realization only hitting.
“BLTS, now.” Tanya stated, and tittered as Lola exclaimed. The raven-haired witch flung herself into the back seat and clambered over Samantha, jutting her finger into Tanya’s chest.
“Really? I thought we agreed we wouldn’t do that joke?” She exclaimed, then yelped as Tanya gripped her rear. “H-hey! Easy. We are supposed to be hazing the new girl-”
“No, you’re supposed to be driving, remember? That means Tanya and I were,” Bridget cut in, and pounced over the seat on top of Lola and Samantha, giggling, tickling the crushed girl’s sides –the one with two on her, that is. “All the tickles!”
“You had enough rest. Continue with the onslaught,” Lola exclaimed.
“Attack,” Tanya said... somewhat, almost like a yawn as she leaned over and joined in.
“S-sto-hahahahah-p. I’m g...gonna pee!”
“Never give up! Never surrender!” Lola said, and it was a battle of the ages, the four locked in eternal combat. Truly a clash of the gods, a war for the world, for, whoever won, Samantha would surely lose.
She did her best to keep from pissing herself, but that barrier was fading. Quickly. She had to do something, but she couldn’t see through the layers upon layers of flesh, more revealing as she wrenched and groped in any direction, tearing a bit of the cloth, already weakened.
At last! Hope!
She pulled, and the three cried out as the door opened. All four tumbled out into the parking lot. Samantha used the confusion to stand, but almost fell again as Lola grabbed her leg, all of them still giggling away. Bridget took her arms, easing her into the back of the car once more, while Tanya lazed herself into the driver’s seat, taking the initiative to drive while the war of tickles and squeals continued –which the tide had turned.
Lola was pressed back against the door, hard. She batted away Bridget and Samantha, exclaiming.
“No fair! No fair!”
“Oh? But teaming up on me was?” Samantha said, and poked a touch too hard, tearing Lola’s top away from her breast, revealing its dusky tip. “Uh, whoops! Hold on.”
She snapped her fingers. Silver flashed on her fingertips, and the frame of the car broke through the plastic, meeting them before stretching out to Lola’s shirt, mending the fabric. Lola shook her head as it did, like a thousand tiny needles scratching away, quickly mending it as she panted.
“Happens every time with you bitches.” She sighed... and pushed them back with a huff. After the needles finished their duty, of course. “I swear. Can’t have nice things around you... So, Sam, ready for your roasting? It’s just not the same over text, after all.”
Samantha chuckled. “Just dying to know about me, huh?”
“Well, yeah. You’d be the fourth biotch to our circle. Now... hmm... where should I b-”
“I want to ask first,” Bridget exclaimed, tickling Lola’s leg as she did.
“H-hey! S-sto-ahaha-okay! Okay. You can have first quest-aaha-ion. J-jus- stop. Gods. It’s always about sex with you.”
“W-wait. What?” Samantha said.
Bridget waved her off, smirking. “It’s just something she says. Anyways, Sam... Sammy-”
“No. Please. Sam. Not Sammy. Ever... Ever!”
“Okay. Sorry... You come from New Orleans, right?”
“Yeah? How did you know?”
“Your accent. It’s very... Creole... So, was your family affected by Hurricane Katrina?”
“... You could say that.”
“Ooh... I didn’t ask anything too sensitive, did I? If so, I’m sorry.”
“Not even a question in and you already done fucked it up,” Lola said, poking Bridget’s chest.
“Nah. It wasn’t too bad,” Samantha said, but shook her head. “Well, not really anymore. It’s been, what, ten years? Eleven? I was only eighteen at the time, though I was already engaged.”
“That soon? Damn. Was the cock really worth it? Clam?” Lola said.
“Cock. Always cock.”
“Don’t say always,” Tanya mused, giggling. “Though I am the same.”
“As am I. I love dick way too much,” Lola said, squeezing and hugging herself. “Feeling it fill you up is just the-”
“So it’s all in agreement. No lesbian orgy later in the park,” Bridget said.
“Don’t count it out,” Tanya sung again.
“Please! You just love boobs,” Lola said.
“Who doesn’t?” Samantha said, and cleared her throat, feeling a bit flushed... lost as she remembered. “Yeah. It was a guy. We... were young. Foolish. Roy... was a sweetheart.”
“Was? Oh, my. He-” Bridget began, stopped when she nodded, starting to tear up. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to trudge that up.”
“Like I said. Done fucked up,” Lola exclaimed.
“It’s alright,” Samantha interjected. Again. “He was found with another woman’s body. Mid-coitus.”
“Damn! Talk a way to go. Did he, like, not notice the giant storm, or was the getting that good?”
“Now whose asking the wrong questions?” Bridget sung, but pursed her lip. “Still. That’s quite the coincidence.”
“Guy was fucking Katrina, got fucked over,” Tanya said, a small smirk playing across her face... but the others only laughed after Samantha chuckled. And she knew it... Tanya waited a moment, looking at Samantha through the mirror at a stop light. “What about your family? Dad? Mom?”
“Dad’s been gone since I was ten. Died of a heart attack,” Samantha said, rubbing her arm. “My mom worked at the Academy, but had to leave to check on me. She was fired for it.”
“What? No way,” Bridget exclaimed. “That’s horrible.”
“Wait. Who was your mom?” Tanya said. “Clarissa? Clarissa Coffey?”
“Y... yeah. How’d you-”
“She was my mentor, one of the original Three. It was her, Miss Sigourney, and Doctor Juliet.”
“Wow. The bimbo has been holding out on us,” Lola said.
“I knew Miss Sigourney, actually,” Bridget said. “She was the one who got me into the Academy. She had... scouted me back in Arkansas... Who was Doctor Juliet?”
“A mute,” Tanya answered. Her eyes had glassed, and blinked fast, fanning away the tears. “She was... a good woman, but...”
Lola snapped Samantha’s top’s back, making her cry out.
“Come on. This is getting too serious!” Lola said, sticking out her tongue. “This is the weekend. Time to partay! Let’s break in our new friend with some drinks!”
Tanya... smiled, and nodded, focusing wholly on the road again. Thankfully, Samantha thought, and joked and teased with the two as Tanya took them away. They left Paradise entirely and went to another town along the northern panhandle. It wasn’t much, but that old steel mill town at least had a bar and a bowling alley –both, conveniently, in one place. The night became a swirl of color, going from the hip and awesome bowling alley-slash-bar, filled with such lively people grumbling among the pin strikes and rumbling lanes about their crippling debts and how they were trapped, mostly ignored by their bullshitting, to the crunk park by the football “stadium”. It was little more than a few rows of bleachers and two concession stands before a gravel pit and the park, most of it rusting away, but it was made worthwhile by the finest of cheap liquors they could get at the store back in Paradise, the small mom-and-pop place.
Mom and pop were out this night, leaving their lovely daughter to glare at their bad decisions, even more when they drove back for more. Though they had more than a dozen rounds at the bowling alley, spaced out in between four games, the eight bottles they had didn’t last them any at the park. Surely she could understand that, right, and even then it wasn’t like she had any room to talk. Had she seen her ears? Pointed tips went out of style ages ago.
Lola poked fun of them for far too long, and was dragged out by the back of her top, torn apart in front of the store. It was mended as they simply walked the streets of Paradise, their drunken cackling and chatter echoing far through the dead streets and empty spaces. At least, along main street; when they headed for the side roads, towards the quaint housing districts, they tried to quiet down, but it only made them that much louder.
They had found another park, hidden away in such a place. Though there weren’t any swings or monkey bars or needles to have fun, there was plenty of natural beauty just waiting to be played with through the wrought-iron gate. So many trees, their limbs freed of leaves, their bottoms covered in their bounty of color, while acres upon acres of green stretched out underneath them.
The coven climbed over the fence, and once more Lola’s top tore on it. She scoffed as she waited for Samantha to fix it, no small task since she was waging war with Tanya, batted her away. Her hands seemed to gravitate to her breasts, where Samantha had stored the flasks during her climb, which made her chest ache from their chill, their perks biting into her push-up bra. It was for the best, though. The greater good –for as long as it lasted.
Lola pulled her tight top down, exposing both her breasts and the true prize under.
“Bitch,” she exclaimed, laughing giddily as she pushed Lola over, using her to cushion the tinted glass bottles. She held her there until each one tamped on her then slid into the grass. She picked one off the ground, and broke the seal with her teeth. And tore open her shirt, pouring it down her front. “Fair is fair!”
“Ooh- I mean oh no! Body shots? The cruelest form of torture,” Lola exclaimed, and yelped as Tanya took her up on the offer, lapping up the liquor to her breasts, where she smacked them. “Who’s ne- Get back here with that alcohol!”
“Never! Never!!! All mine!” Tanya boomed, cackling like a wild hyena as she tried to hoof it with all the bottles.
Stopped by liquid clay.
Bridget clucked her tongue as she rushed over to her. And took the bottles for herself. She gave the three of them a wink and a bow before running away.
“Cheater. You’re not supposed to use magic,” Tanya said, her voice rising as the clay shattered around her, letting her stand. She turned to Samantha, and seemed to bulk as she jumped, landing before Bridget. The redhead skidded to a halt, and tossed the bottles aside.
Which were caught by the wind and carried over to Lola-
And swatted out of the air as Tanya landed before her next.
She was easily a head taller now, her once soft face starting to crack and ripple, while she growled.
“Why must you all cheat!” She bellowed, her voice twisting already.
“Because we’re witches. Duh,” Lola said, and gasped as water surged free from the ground, wrapping around the bottles. It wrenched them out of Tanya’s ever growing mittens for hands, and swept back over to Bridget, already running.
“Got em,” she exclaimed, the bottles in h-
In Samantha’s hand, chugging it a moment as she tried to run away.
She kicked and struggled under Tanya, escaping at the cost of her bottoms, pulled off. The ebon witch ran, skipped towards the tree on the edge of the park, discarding her heels as she climbed it, swatting away at the brute that once was the blonde. She shuddered as she relaxed the bottle between her thighs, holding true no matter how much the wood tried to rip it away. The wind and water joined it, but she simply caked it and her thighs in metal, locking it in place.
Bridget huffed, stamping her foot.
“Get down here!” Bridget commanded, gasping at her own voice.
“Get up he-” Samantha tried to say, squeaking as Tanya simply broke the limb off. It was easily as long as the silver sedan they came in, and almost as thick, yet Tanya handled it no problem, almost daintily as she placed it, and Samantha, between the three other witches. Tanya snorted, and reached for the metal bottles, growling, roaring as they refused to break free, no matter how much she hammered at it and her thighs. “Holy crap... uh... settle down, Tanya.”
“Then give bottle!” It said.
“Yeah, uh, I think you’ve had enough, dear,” Bridget said, patting Tanya’s arm.
And cried out as it tore Bridget’s top off.
“Then I play with boobies,” it said, tugging pulling on Bridget’s chest, while it ripped off Tanya’s once glamorous top. “Everybody naked. Booby orgy time!”
“Better comply, Sam. It’s either we do, or she ‘tickles’ us all to death,” Lola said, hiccuping as she tossed off her top and pounced on the thing once known as Tanya. Samantha had already done so. All four were a laughing, shitfaced mess, all struggling in each others arms, drinking the night away as they continued to bullshit and suffer the wrath of world war tit...
As the sun started to slink over the horizon, Tanya heaved a heavy sigh. She was back to normal, giving one of the empty bottles a sour look before wincing and rubbing her breasts, covered in small red circles.
“I got carried away, didn’t I?” Tanya said, her voice back to its soft, though pained, self.
“Just a touch,” Bridget said, almost dreamily, still tugging at her own breasts. She had bore the worst of it, her pale skin almost mauve, but she still had the biggest smile as she tugged on her blackened tips.
“Sorry... I don’t know my own strength sometimes.”
“That’s fine. I had gotten a bit worked up using, myself,” Lola said, giggling as she gave another hiccup, and smacked Samantha’s rear. “This helped calm it, and allowed Sam here to understand what the new definition of normal was.”
“Oh. Then I suppose I’m not sorry?”
“Really, it’s all Sam’s fault. If she hadn’t plastered the bottles against her cooch-”
“Hey! I paid for most of them,” Sam exclaimed, tittering as she tugged on Lola’s left tit.
“Ow! Bitch! You offered!”
“You didn’t have to accept.”
“Well, maybe next time I’ll pay for it all. How does that sound?”
“Yeah. It does! Want to know why? Because I am a good friend. Now pinch the right to make it e- ah! Thank you.”
“What are friends f-” Samantha squeaked as Lola did both of hers at once.
“Why do you always make that sound? Why do you squeak! You’re a human, not a mouse!”
“How dare you insult me like that! Calling me human-”
“So who was driving us home?” Tanya blurted.
“You were supposed to, you lush,” Lola grumbled, and smacked Bridget’s rump.
“W-why you-” Bridget said, gasping as Samantha grabbed and shook her breast. “S-stop i- ahh!”
“Boobies!!!” Samantha said, jiggling them so before letting them go. She stuck out her tongue, cackles lost to the dawn. The four lumbered to their feet, and, somehow, through works only Fate could discern or play proper, managed to make it to the car. The ride to the Academy was a blur... then blacked out by Samantha long before she descended... Her head spun, coming to its senses at last. She groaned as she stirred, waking up on.. a bed at least, and hissed, flipping off that single beam of light. It had been aimed perfectly at her forehead, making her stomach roil. Ah, but that wasn’t enough, continuing strong, forcing her to roll over.
Right into Minos, specifically his waist.
Thankfully, he had boxers on, but she felt it throb all the same, thudding against her chin as she exclaimed.
He groaned, chortling seeing her on the floor, her clothes nowhere in sight.
“Oh gods,” she grumbled, hugging her legs, glaring at him. “Did we?”
He looked down, his eyes glittering, teeth caught in the single beam of light... but shook his head.
“No. We simply cuddled,” he said, patting her hair. “You started off in my arms, but it seems your mind was somewhere else.”
“Oh thank gods.”
“Well, you aren’t screaming that yet-”
“I meant the part about not doing you.”
“You weren’t saying that this morning... and after running off Monica.”
“What was I saying... Well!”
He simply continued to chuckle, cackling as she left, and found her purse hanging on the entrance. As well as a note.
Was great. We need to do it more often. You’re more than welcomed to be our fourth.
P.S.: You have great hands. I might need to borrow them the next time my chest feels sore.
P.P.S.: Booby orgy is best orgy.
That’s one good thing, I guess, she thought, and headed to bed at last, but not before paying tribute to the party gods, waiting in the bathroom. Oh, John... Sweet, sweet John... She pulled his handle, her sacrifice sufficient for the moment, and was even comforted by his porcelain caress, cold, compassionate. I will never drink again... Wonder what we’re doing tonight?