Witch Hunter (24 page)

‘I’ve come to convince you to love me,’ Morgana said. ‘I need you more than ever now, after the Master’s announcement last night. I cannot let him have me. Believe me, I won’t live much longer through the day than you, unless you agree to be mine. Being hunted might sound like good fun, all those sexy girls chasing after you with their big false pricks, but you saw what they can be like last night – and that was when they were acting with restraint. He means for them to fuck you to death, and they most certainly will.’

Mimi knew all this. The lad who had been guarding her had delighted in telling her exactly how much danger she was in. He had described the hunts in great detail, so she knew what fate awaited her. He was the one who had been the first to be reported missing, the one who had sunk his prick into Dominic’s backside the previous night. He was every bit as smug and evil as his bastard boss. Mimi wondered if her ex-boyfriend would end up like them. Perhaps he already had. She reflected with bitterness on her stupidity at being drawn into all this, chasing after an ex who was happily living out some perverted dream of playing Roman slave and taking men up his backside.

One thing was for sure, there was no kidnapping involved here. These guys were all
very
content to be held as slaves. She had gone after a story that never was, and had run headlong into a peril she had frivolously underestimated. Fancy thinking she could take on someone as heartless as Haydn Shady. He might not be a kidnapper as such, but whatever else he was – manipulator, sex monster, tyrant, killer – all this was immaterial since she could never let the outside world know because she was never going to see it again. Suddenly journalism seemed like the silliest, most pointless occupation imaginable. It was going to be the death of her.

‘I need to make you fall in love with me,’ Morgana said. ‘We only have an hour. I managed to get that shit of a slave to agree to disappear for a while but he has never liked me, so he won’t cut me any slack.’

The witch said it all so matter-of-factly that it didn’t sound like the wonderful opportunity Mimi had been praying for.

‘If you want me to love you, why not just
magic
it?’ she asked, coldly.

‘I’ve told you. It has to come from you. Magic is a natural entity, one that can be harnessed but never controlled. I can make myself beautiful for you and I can truly swear to give you all you will ever need, but only you can give me your heart.’

‘And all I have to do is give up everything and start worshipping Satan?’ said Mimi, dismissively.

The witch laughed, the first time Mimi had ever heard her do so.

‘I don’t worship Satan! He wasn’t even
invented
when my soul was first born. The Master – that fool – he might do so, but that’s because he stupidly thinks he is some demon incarnate. Some of the girls do too. He instils the belief and they like the idea because it makes them feel decadent and degenerate. It’s an easy way to draw them in and keep them here. They have so much more purpose when they think they are acting against all decency. Fucking in the name of the Devil makes them come so much harder.

‘The Gods I worship are
real
ones. They are spirits of the ether, of nature. I don’t worship evil. I believe in lust, in freedom and abandon, in taking pleasure all of the time and giving it to others, of sharing the wonders of our bodies. I don’t believe in hurt. I believe in anything that brings you physical or mental rapture. It’s not my fault society has come to think that what I believe is immoral. Sexual morality was only dreamt up by men too old and ugly and impotent to get their kicks without paying for it. They hated that others could get joy where they could not, so they sought to control it. Remember, I was alive to see them do it.’

Mimi’s head was spinning. Surely the witch was overplaying her goodness? She tried to think of examples she had witnessed of Morgana’s evil, but none came to mind. Spanking her, perhaps? But then Mimi had loved it, even though it was painful and done in front of others – in fact
because
of those things. Even being put under the power of the book had led to nothing more sinister than a massive, mind-blowing orgasm. Last night had seen an orgy of the most eye-popping proportions, with things going on that would freeze the blood of someone like the Spinster. It had felt dangerous and subversive. However, if one stripped it right down, was it really base and immoral? No one was hurt, unless they wanted to be. Everyone appeared to be having the time of their lives, so if it
seemed
immoral that was only because of the drummed-in religious concept that anything beyond the missionary position was depraved. Sure, it had felt like a cauldron of wanton corruption, with all those savages doing such dirty acts, but essentially everyone there had a whale of a time and seemingly couldn’t wait for another opportunity. Even she, a total outsider, had felt the same – up to the point where she had been sentenced to death.

Haydn Shady clearly was an evil man, and one who planned to bring about Mimi’s end. Association with him should have made one evil also. Even if she was now trying to distance herself from him, Morgana surely couldn’t deny having something of a kindred spirit? You just couldn’t
be
that beautiful without being ruled by darkness.

‘So what will you gain from having my love?’ Mimi asked.

‘Everything. My power will increase exponentially. Without you I won’t be able to stop him. He can defeat me in two ways, either by taking
me
or taking me away from this place. I am at the limits of my resistance already. A sustained effort will see me defeated. He doesn’t know it yet but he will soon work it out. He controls the girls more than I do now. With their help he could finish me tomorrow. The only thing that might weaken him is the excitement of seeing your death. However, your end will inevitably condemn me to my own, one way or another.’

This was all beyond Mimi’s comprehension and she felt no particular compulsion to delve deeper. She was trying to work out why she should feel any allegiance to the witch. Oddly, the answer that might have swung it when she had asked, ‘What will you gain from having my love?’ was not the rather indifferent one Morgana had actually given but something more personal and passionate, like ‘You’.

‘And how do you propose to make me fall in love with you?’ she asked. It sounded like a business deal.

‘By
making
love to you,’ the witch replied, unbolting the cage door so that she could enter. ‘There are many ways to lose a heart, but the simplest is through lust. It might sound empty and soulless, but only if you believe lust to be somehow immoral and not the prime motivator of our spirit that it actually is. Lust is our most intrinsic quality, the one that drives us to perform our only real function in this physical world. It is also the one that makes us best understand our potential in the spiritual world. That is why I count it so dear. Anyway, men have been falling in love like this since the dawn of time, so I don’t see why women shouldn’t.’

There wasn’t going to be any escape. The witch had locked the cage door behind her but the key was still in it. However, Mimi knew she wouldn’t be able to escape her clutches. The instinct had just gone from her. Her body wouldn’t have let her run even if her mind told her this might be her last chance. With the witch, confusion and contradiction were never far away. Morgana was immeasurably alluring and Mimi couldn’t remember wanting anyone more in her life. Yet she couldn’t be sure this infatuation hadn’t been artificially placed there. The witch spoke of falling in love yet was somehow detached from the emotion, as if it was something you could just do, some kind of pact agreed upon by the two parties for their mutual advantage. It was as if falling in love was something you did
at
someone, not
with
them.

The irony was, if the witch had ever chosen to go in all guns blazing, rather than to tease and hold back, Mimi didn’t see how she could have possibly defended her heart. It seemed inevitable that she would have to fall in love because the witch was just so exciting and perfect that all else would have faded into irrelevance. It was the fact that Mimi had been made to
think
about it, about consequences. The witch could have just taken her heart, but, in being asked to give it, Mimi had to consider all the logical aspects – leaving one’s family and job behind, being with a woman at all, let alone one who might be somewhat unhinged. Mimi was
dying
for this woman, but to sensibly consider falling for her and being with her for all time was impossible, because the reality was just all too strange.

However, Mimi had already pushed all this to the back of her mind because she was too excited about the prospect of being taken. The witch was down on her knees on top of the padded layers that had been provided as a mattress. Already Mimi could hardly breathe. The wooden case had been carefully set down, as if it might soon have its grand opening. Morgana was righting some of the candles that had been moved to the perimeter of the cage, out of the way of the padding, and was lighting them one by one to illuminate the area where they were to make love. The glow from the little flames made the already dim background fade to near darkness. It was like a screen had been thrown up, sealing the two of them off within these close confines. The anticipation was wrenching. Just knowing that it was about to happen was bliss.

Then she was there, without any further ado, taking Mimi in her arms. Both were up on their knees, pressed together. There was no teasing brushing of the lips this time. The kiss was full-on and immediate, the tongue right there from the start. The witch’s mouth felt silky and hot – not warm but actually hot, like a turned-on puss, like she had just had a mouthful of steaming tea the instant before their mouths met. She tasted sweet too, slightly honeyed, a little like her scent. The embrace was strong, squashing their breasts together. Mimi could feel one hand gliding down her back to grasp her bottom and pull her in so that their crotches were tight against each other. The witch broke the kiss briefly to whisper in Mimi’s ear.

‘I like three fingers up inside me, when the time comes,’ she said. ‘I know you prefer just the one, to have it sliding in deep and stirred slowly around, but I need the girls I love to fill me. This is the only way in which we are not the same. Everything else about us is completely compatible, so what you love, I will love too. I know you better than you know yourself. I see all your delicious dirty little secrets – the spanking, the dirty talk – and I want them all just as much as you do. Nothing between us will ever be wrong, however rude it seems. I will always know precisely what you need, and when. Anything you do to me will be exactly what I have been wanting. There will never be a time when we make love that it isn’t entirely perfect, even the things that are new to you.’

Mimi could well believe it. Just hearing the naughty words spoken out loud was enough to melt her. The witch seemed to know her every dirty thought. She had always been too shy to share such intimacies, with friends or with lovers, but here the witch seemed to have read her mind perfectly. It was unnerving to find yourself so transparent, yet thrilling to know that someone knew
exactly
what it was you wanted to do and have done to you, and had a mind to make it all happen. She felt totally at ease, even though her kinky secrets had been so easily exposed.

She was being kissed again and Mimi found the confidence to return it with equal passion. She was not yet bold enough to strip the Priestess, however desperate she was to do so. However, her own clothes were coming off. Her leggings were down around her thighs and her tight top was being peeled upwards, interrupting their kiss as it was dragged over her head and off, sending out enough static to raise every hair on her lifted arms. Her nipples still felt sensitive from the potion she had drunk the night before and she was glad when her bra was unceremoniously pinged open and cast aside.

Her little pink teats swelled as they were freed. They were aching to be sucked and the witch complied, drawing them in turn into her hot mouth. This alone was nearly enough to make Mimi come. The witch was sucking hard at the stiff points, her forefinger and thumb pinching slightly at the soft tissue of the areola. She gave intermittent little light nips with her teeth, causing an exquisite tingle. It felt like she was drawing the nerve endings ever further out.

‘You know I will teach you to give milk when we are together,’ she said, en route from one erect teat to the other.

The thought made Mimi’s belly flutter. Imagine the intimacy! Imagine this sublime sensitivity doubled by the rush of squirting milk! Although Mimi was now crying out to be taken, the witch was surprisingly patient, given that the slave might come back at any moment. Mimi found herself being slowly licked all over, every tingling part of her receiving attention, the witch seemingly able to slow time itself to draw out each new sensation for what seemed like an age.

Mimi’s leggings and knickers came fully off and she was nude. At one point she found herself briefly on top, her legs open against the clothed thigh of her lover. She had shaved herself the morning after that first class, having seen all those bare pussies. Now the velvet of the dress felt so luscious against her smoothness, the pleasure exacerbated by the feel of the witch’s fingernail at her little virgin anus, ever so gently grazing the surface of her tight hole.

Mimi had forgotten how wonderful kissing alone could be. It was even better with another female. That soft mouth was so entrancing that Mimi could barely wait to go down and kiss those other lips. Yet to leave these would be too much to lose. Strange how she could be so turned on but so content to keep it slow. Yesterday with the Master had all been about penetration. With men it was mostly about that – about a build-up, a fucking and a finish. This just seemed boundless and free, like it could go on for ever and never lose momentum. Never had her skin felt so alive. Her puss felt hot enough to melt the dildos of the bacchante girls, yet still she was able to hold back and gently rub it against the velvet of the dress. If the slave came back now and called a halt she would not have felt robbed. She would still think it one of the best times she had ever had.