Where Witches Walk

Marro gasped, and pushed softly back against the freshly passionate tongue. Her hand reached back again, cupping the side of Nina's face as though to feel the movements of her face as she worked.

Anne watched, aroused and thoughtful. This was creating quite the pleasurable visual. "Anything else?" she asked.

Marro's eyes were closed, her body moving rhythmically. "Remember Tom Paine?"

Anne grunted. Tom was a friend of Marro's husband. He was old and he had a thing for girls who only barely old enough to be wed. Anne had used her powers to reduce Nina's age for a night, so she could watch the queen as a teenager being taken by an old man. "You want that?"

Marro's hand left Nina's face and softly cupped her own back cheek. She was in heaven. Anne felt her own passion rising again. "You are still too young," she said, "to feel the need to be worshipped by youth."

Marro groaned. "Please," she pushed again against Nina's face.

Anne whispered the spell, and Nina lost 15 years of her age. In spite of what Anne had said, Nina's youth and tiny size made Marro look old indeed.

"Is that all?" she asked bemusedly. She thought she just might have to try out this new Nina, too, before undoing the new work.

"I want to flow into her."

Anne humored her, using the same spell she'd used for herself.

"Tell her she loves me."

Anne did.

"Tell her I'm perfect."

She did.

"Die."

In a sudden movement, Marro pushed away from the chair and swung around. In her hand was the large metal candlestick that had set on the table. She drove it against Anne's temple. Blood erupted from her head, and the old woman collapsed to the floor. Marro stood over her and drove the object down again and again upon the witches head. Anne didn't move once to protect herself, she'd been out cold from the first blow.

The sounds became wetter. At last, Marro stopped. She stood there, in a blouse and underdress, blood on her feet, looking down at the last witch in the world. She breathed heavily, nervously. Nothing moved.

When she was certain her work was done, she turned back to Nina. The small, young creature looked up at her lovingly, lips puffy and loose from their work. Marro smiled.

She moved light and dance-like, tiptoeing excitedly over to her new toy. "We will have to leave this place," she said. "Immediately." She lifted her underdress up to expose her sex and smiled down at Nina's flushed face. "One last kiss before we go."

Nina leaned in, swamped with a feeling of love and passion she hadn't known in a very long time. Above her stood a goddess of the earth, a statement of perfection so impossibly complete that nothing else would ever compare.

--

It was a big town, but James knew where to look. Only the finest hotels would be considered. Anne Jall liked the finer things in life.

He turned his horse in the direction of the largest one he could see. As he made his way, he looked around him. This was the furthest south he'd been, and he was amazed to see how similar it was to his own land. The architecture was different, heavy with clay brick and open windows. But in this hot climate, that made sense. The only people who seemed at all different from the northlands were a wild-eyed woman who walked out of the hotel as he pulled up, and the small girl she had with her. He watched them for a moment. They acted strange, hurried. The girl had a cloak and hood covering her, but there was something about her that reminded him of...

It was silly. He shook it off. Still, they were an odd set. The taller, scrawny woman climbed up on a horse, but the girl walked alongside her, holding gently on to one exposed ankle. The youth looked up at the skinny blonde with such intensity that, even with her face shadowed by the hood, she revealed her love for the older woman.

In the north, women didn't ride astride horses. They were heading in that direction. He turned away, back towards the inn.

Stepping inside, he looked around at the patrons. Nothing special. Just rich people looking bored. Then he picked up a bit of conversation from the back room.

"My stupid wife is up there again, with that witch."

Cold iron ran through James's veins. He rushed to the back room, pushing past several people. A fat man, the voice's owner, stood in a large office. James grabbed the fat man's collar.

"The witch," he said, and the man drew back from his wild look and steely gaze, "which room?"

"The...third floor, end of the hall. Who are you?" The man frowned, shock wearing away to irritation.

"I," James looked up above, as though hoping he could see through the floors above and find his target, "am her death."

Anne Jall knew she was dying. She felt no sensation when she touched her face, and her fingers came away thick with dark blood and chipped bone. She couldn't get up, her left eye was blinded, and breathing was difficult. No magic would come to her.

That bitch had betrayed her. She'd given her more than she could ever hope to deserve, and in her own arrogance had been as easily destroyed as each of the witches she slaughtered not so long ago. Anne was the last witch alive, and she would soon be dead.

The door burst open. Large feet stomped into the room, and froze. She coughed, tried to talk, and spat up blood.

The man knelt down beside her. It was James Rawlings, bearded and furious.

"Where is she," he demanded.

"Gone," her swollen lips were numb, and her words were only half formed.

"Where!" he slammed his fist down beside her head. She looked up at him and laughed. It was a wet and gagging sound.

"I am already dead, fool. And I deserve it. I am fat, slow. Easy to kill." She laid her head back down, deep welling sorrow filling her soul.

"Did she run away from you?"

She looked up at him. She thought of Marro with Nina, and jealousy filled her.

Jealousy. She laughed again.

But she could help him, and she thought that if he would kill Marro for her she was willing to let him have Nina as a reward.

"Listen," she coughed. "I have a...gift...for you." She pointed at her own finger, where a simple silver ring rested.

James Rawlings looked at it with suspicion. "What is it?"

"Witches...protect themselves...from their spells. Protect them in case something goes wrong. So long as she wears this...she will be immune to the spells I placed on her."

"Why should I believe you?" He drew back, eyes darting around the room.

"A woman named Marro deceived me, and she now owns the woman who was your wife. Marro has killed me, and now I only want to know that she will die as well."

He studied her face, and finally nodded. With no hint at gentleness, he pulled the ring from her finger. She coughed, and spat more blood. The world was slowing around her.

"What does Marro look like?" he asked.

"Blonde. Tall. Skinny. Like a dancer. Ugly, though," she smiled up at him, then clucked. "Your wife is changed."

"Changed?"

"Small. Small. I have remade her to Marro's desires. A fool. I'm a goddamn fool!"

He grabbed her shoulder, hard. "What does she look like?!"

"She will appear young...much younger. And short. And listen..."

He leaned in.

"She is in love with Marro. True, pure love."

"Impossible."

She smiled again. "Not where witches walk."

The smile drifted softly from her face, and he was looking at a corpse.

James stood up, and thought. Where was he to go now? How could he hope to find...

His eyes widened. Seconds later he was hurtling down the stairs and out the door of the inn.

The blonde and the girl in love. He'd been so close.

He looked north, towards the edge of town. Too much time had passed. He ran for his horse. He knew, now, exactly what he was looking for.

--

"Will your husband miss you?"

Marro smiled to herself as she rode. "I suppose so," she said to the girl who walked alongside her horse. "Maybe not as much as he will miss you."

The girl frowned, and thought about that a moment. "Will you miss him?" She asked. She sounded worried...jealous?

Marro felt very content, excited. She had never been a pretty girl, and had been forced to settle for the first man who came courting. She'd been much older than her sisters had for their marriages. Heather had been 16 for hers, Suzanne a year younger than that. Marro had settled for John at the too-old age of 22.

Marro had known, too, that she was something her husband settled for as well. In the thirteen years they had been married, it had always been apparent that he felt the same way every other person who met her had: she was ugly.

At least there were no children. They never spoke of that, but it was clear that at least one of them was unable. Marro never wanted children. Not with him.

Being coerced into John's play with the slave Nina had been horrifying. Marro had no interest in girls whatsoever. Anne had helped solve that with a little spellwork, as well as greatly intensifying Marro's sexual appetite, for John and for herself. And now Marro had Nina, and Anne was dead.

This beautiful young girl thought ugly Nina was the most perfect thing in the world. She would never need to feel gross or unwanted again.

Of course, that was only true if they weren't caught. By now her husband must have discovered the witch's body. Marro looked back in the direction of the town, hidden behind hills now.

"Let's go this way," she said, turning the horse east. Nina obeyed silently. Marro looked down at her. "There is a town in this direction, and we will be there by nightfall. When we arrive, we'll buy a nice room. And then, little girl, I think I would like for you to lick all the sweat from my beautiful body."

Nina looked up, eager and hopeful. "Yes, ma'am!" she positively squealed with delight.

Marro winked at her, was pleased to see her blush deeply in response, and then looked ahead. As they rode silently, she fantasized about all the wonderful things life was about to bring.

--

James rode yet another horse into the ground. It collapsed just outside the next town, its spirit gone and its body beaten.

He'd been such a fool. Riding north, that first hopeful day, he hadn't paid any attention to his surroundings. He'd gotten to the first town the next night, killing his first horse. It was hard to learn that they weren't and had never been there. He'd immediately bought a new horse. Then he'd ridden back south, more slowly and carefully, and found their tracks. Stupid. Should have seen them the first time.

The tracks led him to another small town. They'd been there, for a day, and continued east. The problem was that going further east brought you close to three larger communities, and it could take days or weeks to explore even one of those places.

He slept as little as possible. He hunted, fretfully, through each town. Finally, after almost a fortnight, he'd gotten a lead.

They'd gone north. The blonde lady bragged about buying a place in the old capitol to some bartender. She had a lot of money, he said. More than enough.

The capitol was a massive city. A million people, or more. He could spend a year and never find them. He would.

He saw it on the horizon, growing slowly. His new horse was dead, and James Rawlings was ending his great journey on foot.

--

It wasn't quite as dirty without an audience, but Marro got by.

After all, it was still incredible sex.

When they'd arrived, she had been tempted to buy a mansion. The gold in the witch's purse was enough to live like a queen for a lifetime. But Marro didn't need riches; she had love. Besides, she didn't want to draw attention to herself. Her small house was enough...and Nina kept it clean and tidy for her.

Marro arched her back, like she always did, and put one hand on the back of the chair. Like she always did.

The other hand found the small face that was planting loving kisses on her rear, and nudged it towards the crack. Like it always did. As always, it met no resistance.

She sighed happily as the girl kneeling behind her eagerly began pleasuring her backside. You couldn't get tired of this, really. It was too perfect for that.

Sometimes she did get upset, though. When she saw herself in the mirror, ugly and gross next to Nina's youthful perfection, it made her sad. It reminded her that she was a phony. She had too much time on her hands, and she drank and ate too much. Nina had that effect on her owners, it seemed. The fact that Nina would find her to be the very definition of beauty no matter what had made her lazy, too. She no longer shaved her legs or armpits, or trimmed her pubic thatch. She rarely left the house anyway, so she'd allowed the leg and pubic hair to grow long and thick.

She was uglier than ever, yet this gorgeous young creature was diving into her posterior like it was heaven.

She moaned against the girl's work, listening to the feasting sounds. Was this really all there was to her life, though? She moaned against the pressure of a tongue. Was this enough?

She stepped away, turned, and leaned back against the far wall. She put one foot up on the foot rest, lost in her thoughts. But she knew she didn't need to give the order, anyway. The small girl scooted forward on her knees, and Marro absently hooked one hand around the back of Nina's neck, under her hair. The girl moved in, mouth open and face upturned, and went to work in the valley hidden underneath the thick pubic hair. Both women moaned.

Probably there ought to be more to it than this. It was so easy...so free from challenge. Was it possible for that to be such a terrible thing? She looked in the direction of the kitchen window, across the way, at the other houses nearby. Houses inhabited by families. Families who fought and argued and struggled to get by. Maybe. She rocked her hips against the rolling pleasure. She felt Nina's nose in her coarse dark hair.

Still, how could she hope to have those things without losing what she had? Marro would never go back to being ugly again. Never go back to being ashamed. Heat built up in her loins, and her hips began more insistent, aggressive movements. Nina's nose was now pushing against her lower stomach.

In a way, she missed Anne. Not a lot, but mostly in the way they had shared this. It was an intimacy of sorts, and one that was far more mutual.

She grunted as the first small orgasm rippled through her. She pulled Nina away, and realized she was gripping a fistful of the girl's hair so tightly that she had ripped a number of strands out. It must have been painful for her. She let go, waving the strands off of her palm, and looked down at the wet face. How could she find a way to share this, without losing what made it great? She used her fingers to scoop her juices off Nina's face and into her mouth. Nina moaned around the fingers. Sighing, Marro sauntered thoughtfully back over to the chair. She knew Nina was crawling after her, staring lovingly at her disgusting body. She sat back, legs open, and watched the young girl crawling towards her. Nina's chin was dripping with feminine juice, her tongue licking her lips as she reproached that which was the center of her universe. One of Marro's pubic hairs was wedged between her teeth.

How can you not want to share this with someone? Nina dipped her head, and Marro hummed at the returned sensation. How, she wondered, could she replace Anne?

Of course, the answer was obvious: what Marro needed was an unequal partner. One more lonely and unattractive than she. Someone who would be willing to share in this rather than be alone. Someone she could still control, someone who would never be a threat, but with whom she could share Nina's abuse.

And, she knew, Nina would be the easiest way to acquire such a creature.

--

Eleven months in this place. It was almost beginning to feel like home.

James spent every day the exact same. From his small hotel room near the city's center, he would pick a direction to go hunting in. He kept meticulous track of all of the places he searched, and when he had last been to them, but it wasn't helping. He was getting nowhere. Maybe they weren't even here anymore.

He shook his head. He wouldn't believe that.

The only place he'd never searched was what locals called the Business District. It was a joke, that name. The Business District was the largest sex district on the continent, a massive string of establishments that catered to every possible desire known to man.

The prey James Rawlings sought already had her every desire met, and would have no need of such a place. And she had made it clear, he felt, that she did not want to share her toy. He was sure that there was nothing for him in the Business District.

He stepped out into the sunlight, aiming northeast, and began his daily ritual. As he walked, he talked quietly to Nina. Telling her it was okay, that he was coming. Wherever she was.

--

Nina walked nervously down the street in the heart of the Business District. The dress she wore she would never have wished to be seen in, save by her One True Love. It showed too much of her breasts, and legs. But Marro had insisted, had given her a mission.

Nina found the place she sought. The Firm Hand had a reputation as a place that catered to aggressive, less feminine lesbians. Nina's job was to find one that met with Marro's expectations, and seduce her. She shuttered at the thought. Having her True Love sharing her with some woman was devastating, but she knew it would make her mistress happy.

This wouldn't be the first time. Marro had already sent Nina to several of the ordinary lesbian bars over and over, night after night, looking for the right one. Nina was a young, small, beautiful woman in a den of wolves. The women hit on her and tried to seduce her with hungry eyes. But she was looking for something in particular.

Sometimes she found nothing. Sometimes she drew hopeful and was left disappointed. Once, Marro had sent her to an S&M lesbian bar, and Nina had met a dominating, tall woman with graying hair and acne scars. She'd thought for sure this would be the one. The woman had led her out to the narrow alley between the bars, and told her she would not be going anywhere with Nina until she proved her talents were worth it. So Nina had nervously knelt, pleasuring her there on cold cement. Gripping the strong legs with her small hands, lapping at this strange, grunting woman. When the tall, ugly dominatrix finished her climax, she had smoothed her billowing brown leather skirts and simply walked away, disappearing into the crowded street. It had been the only time Nina had ever lied to Marro...she couldn't bare the thought of telling such a story. To admit having so thoroughly failed.

Six times she'd managed to snare a candidate, get them home, and tentatively tested the relationship waters. Each time, the women's initial excitement at having control over such a perfect young woman gave way to jealousy or discomfort. The longest any had stayed was two weeks. Nina didn't miss any of them, though she had enjoyed not having to make these trips.

She drew a deep breath and entered the bar. It was a sad looking place, smoky and dirty. Although it could easily hold a hundred people, just 13 women sat spread throughout, mostly alone. None of them were particularly attractive. Some were tragically unappealing. They all looked up as she entered. Some of these women dreamed of the day a girl like Nina would walk through those doors. For them, the night had gone from being boring and ordinary to being a great competitive hunt. Every other woman in the bar had just become competition.

Nina nervously walked up to the bar. The butch, monstrous woman behind it appraised her.

"You ain't old enough to drink, is you missy?" It wasn't really a question.

Nina was terrified. Only her love of Marro kept her from running. Wonderful, beautiful Marro. She focused her thoughts on what her lover wanted her to do. She shook her head, wide-eyed, and sat down on the nearest stool.