The woman was exhausted when she entered her house after a long, long day at work in Boston. Hers was an inviting house, an old, colonial house in one of the finest neighborhoods of Woburn. It went back in her family for more generations than she knew. Her shoes were the first things to come off, followed by her warm winter coat and hat. The woman, named Sarah, looked toward the kitchen, then over to the stairs and decided to take a shower before anything else. Her husband would not be home for a while and neither would the kids – grown kids, more than children really.
Suddenly the door swooshed open behind her. She must not have latched the door securely when she entered her home. Sarah turned around and returned to the front door and was greeted by the air outside, cold as it is supposed to be in winter. Then, with a deep sigh and an odd feeling that she was not alone, Sarah ascended the stairs. Just jitters and nerves from one crazy day at the office. In fact Sarah felt a little light-headed as she entered her bedroom. The master bath was off to the corner and she quickly decided to lose her clothes and climb into the shower. Softly and easily her garments flew off her body, nylon and silk glistened in the light. “Yes, all will be well,” Sarah thought.
Downstairs, the house was oddly familiar to Lucia. It reeked of the Tuttles, those miserable monsters, every last one of them. She passed over the threshold with great ease. Yes, this one is quite alone. Her substance gathered strength and she ascended the staircase, and followed the scent of the comely woman. Her good blood would not save her tonight.
“Pull the shades and light the candle there,” she commanded her with a soft, hypnotic voice.
Sarah was so tired that the privacy and fragrance of the Yankee Candle a few feet away was most inviting. She lit the candle, dimmed the lights, and settled onto her bed in soft fragrant comfort. She closed her eyes. Sarah felt very tipsy now, as if she were drunk. She reached down and touched herself. Suddenly very horny. Sarah fell into a dream-like state; as if powerfully drugged.
“Not a bad feeling at all,” she whispered to no one. It was as if she were surrounded with gentle feathers. “Like dreaming,” she said with a whisper, and Sarah slowly arched her back. She tasted but did not see the luscious lips on her mouth and body. How her long blonde hair framed her dreamy face and eyes, which were still closed.
“Relax, my dear,” a dream-voice commanded. The woman’s discarded hose was very interesting attire, so smooth and hand strong; perfect to lash to her like snakes to bind her wrists and ankles.
The manner of speech of the Great Witch was gentle and contemporary, not far from the present day. Lucia had adjusted well to this time and era. The woman beneath her writhed slowly and steadily.
Soon Sarah was comfortably and securely stretched and shackled onto the bed’s four strong posts. She showed a small smile, behind which an intense fire built. What invisible creature is restraining me? There was the quickened pace and increased intensity of the visions. She enjoyed this dream now, very much, this fantasy she was eager to follow wherever it led.
Sarah tried to relax, to do as she was told; but the slowly built motion and rhythm maddened her. Her heart pumped faster and faster; her pulse thickened. Sarah felt pressure, a terrible blinding pressure; pressure all over her body, against her bound limbs which she could move only slightly in reaction to various provocations. Sarah’s nipples hardened like stones. Her blood pulsed all through her tingling body. Luscious tension. It seemed as if soft needles glanced over her, and especially at those most private of pleasure centers to which even her husband was unaware.
A jealous numbness struggled to take hold but it was no use against the gentle scratches of nails and the whooshing of what could only have been the soft touches of silk, almost invisible in the dim light and thick haze of her condition. Sarah tried to relax, to follow the words of the one who commanded her to do so. She tried to relax but the tensions – the contractions – were too great. So Sarah tried and tried while the tension rose inside her. She tried to relax her blood flow. The pressure all over her body, as though she were drowning inside of someone else. She gasped and gasped again. She couldn’t breathe; she was going to burst. She saw dark, black eyes. Her breasts were hard against some invisible being.
“Do as I say,” the voice said. “Not yet!” Her voice was harder, and in complete command.
But her heart pumped too fast. She would die if she did not come. But she dare not displease this seducer, this Succubus who commanded her to wait. She feared she would explode.
“Control. Control. And no harm will come to thee.”
“Not yet, Sarah commanded herself. She breathed in and out forcefully and quickly. “No, not yet!” she warned herself. “I can’t! I cannot do as you command.”
“Do as you are told, and no harm will come to thee.”
“But I can’t hold back any longer.” She fought to hold herself back.
“You must mistress. You must. And no harm will come to thee. Lie perfectly still while I tease thee with my tongue.”
“Oh God, where is my husband?” she cried. “Please not yet,” she begged herself. Somehow she held back. A sensation of dry water straddled her –massaged her – and she would surely erupt. The invisible body moved its sex onto her own anxious tongue while an invisible hand assaulted the bound woman with a rhythm of pain and pleasure.
“Pleasure me wench!” she said. “Do as I say?” the voice said firmly. “Pleasure me now. Please me, and no harm will come to thee if you do what you are told. Now nod your head, mistress, and please me now.”
The woman nodded frantically. God she was going to blow up!
“Do you understand me!” she asked firmly and assuredly.
“Please stop, Sarah begged. I can’t hold it any longer.” She begged her mistress to stop and thrust her tongue deep into the dark specter. Hungrily Sarah devoured her partner’s sex with her mouth and tongue and finally could hold herself no longer. She released her own body in wave after wave of helpless spasms. There was no weight upon Sarah at first. She writhed and struggled to be free of her bonds to fervently embrace the invisible being. Then, slowly, the form and substance of a shadowy Lucia grew bold in the dim light which surrounded them.
Sarah’s bindings were like chains now, and the pressure on her pleasure centers rose steadily – real and palpable. And while so little movement was possible (there was no escape from her dangerous ecstasy), the intensity of the rhythm built yet again. Helpless, she had no choice. The mesmerizing hold on her body gave way to wave after wave of intoxicating orgasms which rolled through every inch of her.
Again and again, and again.
Sarah’s heart sped and she raced from peak to peak. The pleasure was relentless all over inside her and it only grew with rhythmic contractions, which alternated bound terror and pleasure, and pain. She sighed in nervous contentment, in complete servitude to her obliging mistress. Sarah’s openings widened, all neatly violated with Lucia’s rapturous hands. Then, finally, the dark dreamy eyes appeared again, seemingly out of nowhere, and they hovered over her rapturously captured body. Sarah’s pleasure gushed forth still again and she struggled just to remain conscious.
Is this a dream or a nightmare?
A multitude of thoughts danced through her brain. Sarah was ready now for it to end. She was being smothered by pain and pleasure. As if submerged in mercury. Anxious and helpless, she wanted to wake up now. Yes, she was ready to wake up, though she remained drowsy, still in a drunk-like state. Then a searing pain passed through her body while shivers and spasms coursed through the strange being which engulfed her. There was more pressure now and with exhausted pleasure, Sarah was paralyzed with orgasms. She could neither speak nor scream.
Lucia pulled herself up from the bed. The empty eyes of her captive looked pleadingly at her for release. Splayed there like a bound sacrifice, Lucia turned her helpless captive’s face. How in this century women are so much more like men. Lucia collected a small bundle of feathers into one hand. They were scattered all about the floor. She returned to the bed and kissed her captive sweetly. Women can do anything they wish, even lie with one another in the most enticing and forbidden ways, like so. Then into her half-opened, exhausted mouth, Lucia forced the feathers into Sarah’s gateway and sealed it shut with a mesmerizing paralysis. Lucia turned to the lighted candle over in the corner. With only a glance from the Great Witch, the candle splashed on the floor and easily set ablaze a corner of a darkening curtain which ranged toward the ceiling.
She laughed a hellish laugh, a lunatic’s laugh, and left the bedroom while she could still hear the muffled screams of the woman. Lucia had been as much curious and she was intent to extend her power to destroy those she hated. And now she hated them all! She smelled their blood and could see it in the eyes of her victims. Desires and curiosities are secondary, I suppose, though I should like to try this again…and again.
The Dark Witch looked back to see the house drenched in flames. “Her heart stopped before she felt the laps of the flames,” Lucia lamented. “May the bitch burn in hell with Mephistopheles for what her forebear did to me.” And with those words, Lucia left the isolated house on the isolated street in the isolated neighborhood.