Witching Hour

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Sins of the Past

After the lovely crash course everyone received on Monday, the rest of the week was a dull slog that slipped into obscurity. Peter and Ayn returned to class the next day, but were flightier than any rabbit if the subject changed even for a microsecond or if the tone of the class shifted even the slightest. They were the last to enter the class, as well. If the tension wasn’t as taut as a bowstring, they didn’t even bother to unpack their bag or lower their arms to their desk. They would simply turn around and leave.

So Samantha was more than happy for the weekend to come again. She was even happier when surrounded by her coven. She would accept these pinheads and the ones crashing down the alley any day over the misfits she had to cater to. Another, thunderous crash concurred that statement, and she Bridget, and Tanya clapped as Lola bowed, giving the old men at the bar a good look down her faded blue blouse. No bra... again.

Their table was lined with empty, domestic soldiers. There were four, “crystal” pitchers drained on the bar behind them. They were waiting for a fresh one, all their faces aglow in the dim light, swirling with such color and music, muffled by the crashing of pins around. It was a full house, otherwise, but of “normal” “people”. One glance around and Samantha could have sworn she was in a junkie convention; their arms, the folds of their fingers seemed to glow, as did the junk in their veins under the black light. The women had even more a glow, their dark, dingy clothes almost radioactive under that light, but, as long as they didn’t bother them, Samantha didn’t give a shit.

Tanya stopped clapping, and pointed back at the alley. Lola looked, and groaned as the others snickered. A single, lone pin still stood, right in the middle.

“Dammit! It’s always that same fucking one,” Lola grumbled, taking her seat- and snapped the pitcher out of the bartender’s hand as they finally made his round again. She grabbed their plaid shirt, nails clawing, digging in as she growled and tipped that pitcher over. The pulsing lights gave her rosy cheeks a bit more color as she emptied it right into her gullet and didn’t stop until only froth stuck to the bottom. She shoved it back into their hands, belching long and loud into their face, then patted their belly. “Thanks, Jell-o man. If you keep me nice and drunk, I may give you a reward.”

“She means she’ll give you head,” Tanya said, sipping from her bottle. Out of all of them, she drank the least. There were only two dead soldiers before her, yet her face was almost scarlet, redder even than Bridget’s hair, dulled to a brown.

The bartender scoffed, and shoved her off.

“Girl, you had way too much to drink if you didn’t know I was a woman,” t... SHE said. “I’m this close from cutting y’all off for the night.”

Lola growled again, waving her off. “Oh come on! Live a little.”

“She’s a married man. She isn’t allowed fun anymore,” Bridget said, giggling –harder as she hiccuped. “Oh, I’m such a bitch.”

“Keep it up, and I’ll have Eddie throw you all out! I had it up to here you with three long ago. Now that you have a fourth-”

Lola cried out, a long, mewling sound, and the woman hissed, holding her head.

“Don’t be like that,” Lola said, panting, her cheeks far hotter than they were a moment before. “We’re just having fun. You know, that thing before you had to tend to a microdick every night?” Her hands fought to stay away from her body as she rolled her wrist to a fellow a few aisles down. He had stood and started to ready to throw his ball, but a faint trail of green caught him by the ear, making him look over to them. “You see that guy over there? He’s hung like a horse. Why don’t you go t...take him into the supply closet and remember what a real dick is meant to f...fee-ah...feel- but first bring us more booze.”

The bartender nodded, her eyes clouded with that green light, and rotated away, swaying, almost forcefully, to the bar where she refilled four pitchers, two in each hand. She returned them to the table, then made her swaying, lumbering way to the start of the alley, to a black door by the twin double doors to a small entry before another set of glass doubles out to the parking lot. The man was already there; his pants already struggled to stay up as it was, but now were drifting down to show off the trunk hidden in their torn, denim embrace. Samantha couldn’t help but gawk at it, easily as long as the man’s thigh, which stood almost six-four. Mostly in the legs, at that.

The door shut, and Lola huffed as she put her head on the table, panting still. Before glaring at the aisle again.

“Oh. Right. I had another throw, didn’t I?”

She groaned as she stood and lumbered over to the lane. Her ball had returned, but she simply continued to the front of it, glaring down that pin. Tanya and Samantha both whistled a familiar tune, the good and bad known but there sure was no ugly. At the moment; they were being bumped, loudly, in that supply closet. It even dimmed the music, and pulled a lot of attention. Including the man’s wife. But Lola paid it no mind. Her focus was on that pin, her hands resting on hips, clawing at them, staying there.

At last, she raised her left. she “drew” with it, circled, wavering as she tried to keep it on the one true pin. On her finger’s tip a single point of green flashed, and her knees buckled as that green strobe above passed over that glint. It was quick, but the pin at the end clacked over, flung back into the trap. She fell back, panting, fighting her moans as she smiled at the electronic display above. It crackled, as did all the others a moment, nothing but static and snow... but, as it cleared, she could see a slash by her score for set 7.


“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” Lola exclaimed. She turned herself over, and glared at Bridget, standing, messing with the screen at the table.

“You used; it doesn’t count,” she said.

“Oh, f... fine. Whatever. Party pooper.” She groaned, and clawed over to the table- before continuing on. “Nope. I’m going to the closet. I need my fix.”

“Have fun,” Samantha sung. “Try to not catch ’em all!”

Lola flipped her a lovely bird, but it was Bridget’s turn. She took such simple, sweet steps towards the lane, ball in-hand. She chose a pink one tonight, complementing her bright pink tube top, straining so much against her lovelies. It tore as she tossed, but mended it before she turned around, another strike on her board. Samantha huffed, shaking her head- and guffawed as her top ripped again as she sat.

“Karma’s a bitch, huh?” Samantha said.

“It must have shrunk in the wash- h-hey!”

Tanya gripped them, squeezing hard.

“They’ve grown,” she said, squeezing them, humming softly –all eyes upon them at that moment. It was either them or the three in the closet... and the one standing outside it crying and shrieking at her cheating husband.

“B-but I’m beyond t-”

“Two cups larger. Don’t feel any lumps.” She hummed, continuning to mash them, purely scientific. But not to the onlookers.

Samantha growled, and metal rose through the table from the pole it was attached to, trying its best to reach her.

“And what are you old coots looking at! Go back to your mugs, you waste o-”

“Remember last time,” Tanya said. “The owner said we can mess with him, but we are not allowed to harass the locals.”

“Oh, but they get to ogle and watch us do this stuff, huh?”

“I mean, isn’t that why we come here?”

And I don’t mind in the least, she thought, tittering, her thighs rubbing together as she took another drink from her mug, missing what Bridget said to Tanya. If she had to guess? A line that no woman wants to consider- a small burp sneaked up on her. She covered her mouth, giggling.

“Excuse me- welcome back, Lola. That was a short trip.”

“Fuck you.” Lola grumbled, crumbling in the seat beside her. How she wished she chose any other; her purple “dress” was little more than a scrunchy around her middle, her face smeared in lust, and she reeked of shame and resentment. All in record time. She sighed, and laid her head on the table again, shaking her head. “You know, you’ve been quieter than normal tonight. What gives?”

“Sorry. It’s just been a long week.”

“The first week is always the roughest,” Bridget said, and all three of them jumped as Tanya’s ball crashed down the lane... four lanes down. She groaned, pinching her brow. “Tanya...”

“One day you’ll actually go down the right lane,” Lola said, and patted Samantha’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. Once you get into the swing of it, it’s tedious as hell. My students don’t even need me anymore: I throw on the power point, they get the file, they do the practices and boom! Pass at the end.”

“I still believe in traditional teaching,“ Tanya said, preparing for her second throw... this time going through the roof. At least it was at the end of their lane. “Oh, shoot. I was so close, too.”

“How did it curve up?” Samantha said.

“What’s going on out here!” The owner said, storming out of the back, and groaned seeing the four of them... and the hole in his establishment. His frill flared out, orange eyes glowing a touch in the gloom as the alley filled with his throat’s clicks. “That’s it! The four of you! Out!”

They did, giggling amid the screams of seeing the true owner of the establishment. Thankfully, people were often slow on the uptake, so the four were out of the building before it was encased in a single, bright, white flash. Samantha thought it was horribly unnecessary; the inhabitants were barely a step above goldfish after all. None of them would have remembered and chalked it up to drugs, but at least it made her feel like one of those dashing rogues in a black suit.

But now they were one with the night again. They slipped through the two sets of glass doors and out into it, breathing in that brisk fall air. Winter was trying to overtake it, but thunder rumbled, keeping it at bay. If only another night. Lightning flashed through the clouds, caught in the beads of rain, falling upon them as they clambered into the blue car, continuing to titter and laugh up a storm of their own as they waited for their buzzes to wear off. Samantha hugged against Bridget, rubbing her breasts, tittering more as she sighed and moaned.

“That feels so nice,” she mumbled, smiling tiredly. “You really do have great hands... Do they feel bigger to you?”

“A touch, I suppose.” Actually, they feel two plates larger... dinner plates. Like... how! But she didn’t say that; surely it was only the alcohol dulling her senses while making everything extravagant. Instead, she nodded to her. “Why did you dye your hair, by the way? It was nice red.”

“Oh, I didn’t dye it.” She let out a soft sigh, leaning back against the door as Samantha continued to knead her chest. “It’s my magic. The more I use, the less luster it has until it’s white.”

“That sounds both awesome and awful all at the same time.”

“It is. I love the silver it turns into, but I can’t use for at least a year after-”

“If you’re lucky,” Lola said, and hissed as Bridget kicked her. “Hey! I’m only speaking the truth.”

“Screw the truth.”

“Why not? Can only be better than that hick. ‘Two-pump’ was being generous... but, man, were they an amazing two-”

“It’s why Lola will be getting you from now on-” Bridget cut in, then cried out, sucking on her teeth. “Ooh! Yes. Right t... there.”

“Quit hogging her,” Tanya whined, pulling on Samantha’s shoulder. “I want a massage too.”

“You can wait. That’s your punishment,” Lola grumbled, and climbed into the driver’s seat. She drummed on the wheel, matching the rain. “So what are we doing after this? The park’s out of the question.”

“Why? Don’t you want to get nice and wet? Oh. Wait,” Samantha said, and a drunken thought decided to settle a moment. She bit her lip, gaining a wry snark, and pinched on Bridget’s nips, waking her up.

“Ah! No! Bad,” she exclaimed, giggling as she slapped her hands away, groping Samantha back. “I’ll teach you.”


“Why don’t we go back to the apartments? Watch movies?” Tanya said.

“Sure!” Lola said. “I have plenty m-”

“I mean actual movies. At my place this time.”

Lola scoffed. “Are you saying what I watch isn’t actual movies?”

“I mean real life people. With real life problems.”

“Like traveling to Mount Doom to throw in the Cracker Jack prize because the eagles that aren’t eagles but some kind of elder deity can’t simply fly you there, all to avoid a giant glowing eye in the sky and his army of undead mud elves? That kind of realism?”

“I still think that one gif should be canon,” Bridget said, giggling as she continued to paw and tickle Samantha. “The one where that douche from the first demands a catapult to be used to launch the ring.”

“You be nice to Sean Bean,” Samantha said. “He works hard to job in everything he does.”

“I’m sorry. How did you say gif?” Lola interrupted, talking over Samantha as she glaring at Bridget. “Why do you people love to piss me off with this! It’s gif! With a soft G. Not gif, with a J.”

“But it’s meant to be in a jiffy-”

“I don’t care! Saying it like gif is just asking to smack a bitch. Like this!”

She lashed out from her seat, catching Bridget across her breasts, and giggled as she squeaked. Then gasped as they grew another whole cup. The nips that were once settled in Sam’s palm pushed so hard that she had no choice but to relent and let those burgeoning tips slip between her thumbs and indexes. They, too, grew, and were about as long as Sam’s thumbs, qivering.

Bridget shoved Samantha away, covering her chest (as best she could), and gave Lola a dirty look.

“How rude!” She shrieked. “How dare you!” She whined, looking down at her Lilith-tier mountains, and whimpered. “So they are growing... What am I going to do?”

“Why is that bad?” Tanya said. “Weren’t you trying to get a man?”

“I was! But the man I want-”

“He likes big milkers.”

“H...hey... you’re right! Hit them again, Lola!”

“Hell no!” Lola barked. I want him, too!”

“Me, three,” Tanya grumbled, growling. “Damn Lilith.”

Lola sighed, and returned to the wheel. “All right. We’re all depressed as hell now, so I guess we’re going back to the apartment... After we swing by the store first... By the way, you eating well down in the Halls there, Sam?”

“Yeah,” Samantha said, “though it took Lilith a day to tell me about the kitchen nook.”

“Yeah, don’t look at me. Lilith is not known to be this... spiteful. What did you do? How did you piss in her cornflakes?”

“I don’t know! I know my mother and her didn’t see eye to eye-”

“Well, they were once lovers,” Bridget blurted.


“Yeah. They used to do everything together, and she often stayed with her at her cabin. It was rather cute.”

“In a muff-diving, scissoring sort of way,” Lola said, retching. “Not a fan of lesbian relationships. Like, at all.”

“... Really? At all?” Samantha said, massaging Tanya’s chest.

“Same,” Tanya said, sipping from her bottle of water. “I like to watch, but would never join. Bridget?”

“I... would take the chance, if I really wanted it, but... I like men too much. Specifically, a certain, family man,” Bridget said, and giggled as she patted Samantha’s shoulder. “And the way you love to handle them, I take it you are fine either way?”

“I can’t help it. I love boobies too much,” Samantha said, but shook her head, “but an actual, full-on lesbian relationship? Nah. Not my thing. I love to play with cock too much, love feeling it go inside me. Sure, I’d be fine with a strap-on, but it’s just not the same as feeling a thick piece of meat fill you up, feeling it pulse and throb and being slurped by your pussy.”

“I take it you had it many times?” Lola said, chuckling- then slammed on the brakes. “Wait. I thought you said you never-”

“I didn’t. Not in my pussy, anyways. Thankfully, Ron at the time loved anal, so it was a compromise.”

“So how do you know?”

“Because of my... old B.O.B.”

“Ah. A dildo doesn’t compare to the real thing, though.”

“Even recent experience?” Bridget said.

“Fuck off!”


“I really need to get laid,” Tanya grumbled, her cheeks flushed.

“Don’t we all? Shame there aren’t many men at the school,” Lola said, whining. “Damn you, Lilith!”

“Eh? What about Lilith?” Samantha said. “This is the third time you three have said that.”

“Because she has the ONE male teacher under her thumb. He’s... agh!!! He’s so... damn... cute!”

“A right hunk,” Tanya said, sighing.

“Yeah. It’s a real shame,” Bridget said, nudging Samantha. “What about you? Anybody cute in your class?”

“N... not really.”

“You... You, uh, you stuttered there,” Lola said, leering at her through the mirror. “Spill it.”

“It’s... it’s nothing. There are a couple of guys in my class, but... I can’t really see myself with them. Being the Black Halls and all-”

“Yes, but can you see yourself fucking them? That’s what’s important.”

Only o- “No. None.”

Lola didn’t seem to believe her, but simply shrugged.

“Fine. Whatever.” She pinched her nose, and hissed, nodding. “Okay. Yeah. I’m sobered up. Let’s get to the store, bother Miss Pointer, and get to the apartments to continue this witch fest.”

“Don’t pick on her too badly this time,” Bridget said. “Aya is a nice girl.”

Luckily, that wasn’t an issue today. They stepped into the cozy little store, its tiny little bell welcoming them among the assortment of packaged goods and coolers, and, instead of the curvy, ire-filled girl, a pleasant, warm, thin man stood behind its counter to the right. His face, though, was almost a mirror of Aya’s, save for a thick, brown mustache. His hair was cut close to his head, giving his ears their full length, drooping a bit as they reached the top of his scalp.

Lola stood guard at the counter, watching over its sentry, ogling his chest, reaching, pawing for his arms. He ignored her, though... for the most part. His hazel eyes were locked on the magazine in his hands, inching ever away as she tried to claw at him, leaving the three to fight over what they wanted tonight.

Samantha picked up the bottle from before. “Why change it? It’s too good.”

Bridget shook her head, and picked up another, its pink filing sparkling in the soft light. The poor girl used a shopping back as a top, padded with her top to keep their bright red tips from being seen. As much as she wanted otherwise.

“But this is good, too,” she said. “Possibly better. Won’t you try it, Sam? For me?”

“What is it with you and pink stuff today?” Tanya grumbled, and held up a case of blue raspberry wine coolers. “I want to try these.”

“I bet that would mix real well with this,” Bridget said, motioning to hers.

“Fine! We’ll get the pink and the blue,” Samantha grumbled. She put down her bottle, pouting as they trudged their way to the counter, and the elf finally put down his magazine.

And noticed Samantha, giving her a gentle smile.

“Why, I haven’t seen you here before,” he said, and gave the others a dirty look. “Please tell me you aren’t with these three.”

“Hey,” Lola barked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He glowered at her. “I heard what you were saying to my sister. You should be happy I haven’t banned you or the rest of you from the store –which would have been a shame, to not have seen your pretty friend.”

“Oh, my,” Samantha said, her cheeks warmed by more than the alcohol still bubbling away in her system, making her giggle as she offered her hand. “I’m Samantha Coffey.”

He took... and kissed it, smiling even wider. “I’m Mahna. Mahna Duliere. I heard you were good to my sister, but she didn’t tell me you were as sweet and refreshing as the drink you are named after.”

She giggled, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

“Oh, wow. I’ve never heard that one before.”

“I’m surprised, but now must ask for your ID.”


“Because there’s no way you are anywhere near 21.”

“I’m afraid to burst your bubble, but I’m-”

“Just ring it up,” Lola exclaimed.

He did, and Lola took them to the car, the others following after. Samantha had to practically be dragged out by Bridget, still looking on at the elf even as the door was shut. Lola revved the engine, screeching onto the road, grumbling.

“Can’t believe it,” she grumbled, ranting under her breath. “Passed up f...”

Lola pulled into the spot beside the silver sedan, and turned it off with what anger she had left. The key was still in the ignition and turned; it was her burning ire, alone, that made that engine cease.

She clambered out of the car, the rain seeming to part for her, and made her way to the concrete steps and up to the second floor, leaving the others to follow in her wake. Tanya fumbled for her keys in her purse, but after the seventh time dropping them, Bridget decided to handle them instead, guiding them to the apartment at the far right end of the second floor. Her cheeks were already warm again. She had Samantha hold her drink when they reached it, dragging the key down the knob thrice before sinking it in, giggling, cooing as she turned it, and pushed in.

The entrance gave way to a small dining nook and kitchen to the left. The right was saved for a bathroom, which Tanya bee-lined to. Bridget stumbled into the darkness of the apartment, flicking on a small lamp. It was set on a bright brown stand, and nestled between a set of red couches, pointed towards a big-screen TV.

She grabbed the remote from the coffee table, its glass shining as she flipped to Netflix, exclaiming as Samantha pounced on her. She wrenched her “top” up, massaging her breasts again.

“You’re worse than a guy. Though, if you were him...” she said, laughing, and stuck out her tongue. “No more alcohol for you.”

“Okay... but I get boobies, right?”

“All the boobies,” Lola said, pulling her hands to hers, chuckling. “Ah... So, I take it your magic is linked to your hands?”

“Yeah,” Samantha said. “Sensational, no? Wow that was bad... What about yours? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you use.”

“... You kidding?”

“Oh! Most certainly not. How does it work?”

“Okay. You’re pulling my chain.”

“No! Not at all...”

“Whatever. Basically, when I do... I get... wet.”

“Your sex drive? Whodaguessed?”

“Uh huh. Yeah. Whatev’s. When I use, I get horny. Use too much, and I’ll bang any dick in sight. Even that useless meat in the alley. I would feel bad for that wife, but I saw into her mind a touch and know just how much ‘little helper’ she forces into his meals before they fuck.”

“Basically a succubus,” Tanya muttered, slumping onto the couch as well.

“Gods, I wish. At least then I WOULD HAVE THAT M-”

“So what do you lose?” Samantha cut in, though already knew. It was better than hearing about Mister Adonis for the forty-somethingth time.

Tanya sighed. “Control... You?”

“Feeling. My hands go dead, or, use too much, my whole body.”

“Oh my. No wonder you’re so strong, then. You have a lot more to lose.”

You don’t even know the half of it.

Tanya sighed, and took Samantha’s hands off Bridget’s breasts, putting them on hers.

“Rub rub,” Tanya said, and yawned, but cocked her eye at Lola. “What’s so funny?”

“‘Control’. That’s the understatement of the century.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“You become a storm of blood, death, and destruction. You become a hurricane of terror, a tornado of horror.”

“I don’t think I do... Bridget?”

“You are... more caustic, yes,” she said. “Temperamental.”

Lola scoffed. “Beating around the bush. You go berserk, Tanya.”

Bridget shushed her, sighed, and handed everyone a bottle as the first of many movies began. It was a cheesy romcom that melted into a creature feature than a slew of other horrible choices made by alcohol. The storm raged on all day and the next; Samantha was more than ready to pass out when Lola drove her “home”. The others already were, passed out in the back as they pulled before the Academy. Lola lead her up the steps, down the hallway to her small corner of the Black Halls, and gave her a hug before Samantha slid the card through the door, allowed in.

She closed it behind her, smiling like a fool all the way to her room, and collapsed onto her bed, wishing it could have lasted far longer. As it stood, it was fleeting compared to the events she had to endure to get to enjoy it; she only wished it wouldn’t be so long before the next, and that the wait wasn’t as agonizing... But these were all thoughts of a drunken romantic before she passed out into the cold reality.

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