Antics at the Arcane Academe: Pt. 02

She was dimly aware of her actions, her body possessed as if by some obscene magic that rendered her powerless, and what remained of her self-control battled savagely to preserve some sliver of decency. She felt the candle tease and nudge at her dampness, each incursion threatening to extract a gasp of pleasure from her, but she kept her lips pressed together. Her guiding hand became more insistent, and the tortured girl was torn between hurling away the titillating shaft that was gradually sapping her of her willpower, and between thrusting herself upon it, letting it fill her wholly. Her eyes peeped open, and through the clouds of her lashes and the haze of her lust, she saw the fen-witch, her fair, young and intense face staring down at her with a look of absolute conquest.

The last vestige of her dignity wilted at the sight of her triumphant rival, and her hand guided the thick candlestick into herself, her lips parting and sliding around its waxen surface. The penetration caused her heart to leap in shocked ecstasy, her mouth gaped and a choked cry escaped her throat. She scrunched her eyes closed, her brows arcing in an involuntary display of bodily delight. Her body was pervaded by an insatiable desire for more, and she rhythmically drew her hand in and out, urging the rod deeper each time. The candle moulded itself to her and its waxy knurls caressed secret places within her that not even she had known. She had capitulated, succumbed to a baser nature, and Elise labored to catch her breath as her hand moved under its own volition, plunging the candle so deep inside her. She greedily kneaded her breast, eager to coax and extract every last bit of pleasure from her aching nipple.

Lost in that rapture, golden body glistening with sensual fervor, her damp elbow slipped from under her and she was cast to the floor on her back, her legs splayed wide, and now there was nothing left to hide, no trace of her modesty remained. Her hand tightened around the slick rod as it delved inside her with full strokes, and with each motion her fingers bumped against her tender, throbbing bud, startling her as intensifying jolts of sensory bliss bore her higher, nearer to some dizzying and primal precipice. Elise was delirious, her body frantic and desperate for more, and she could feel something blooming within her, something warm, wet, and overwhelming that expanded and engulfed her until at long blessed last it surged forth and she was awash in pure, pulsing warmth and sweet release, her body tensing and quivering, her legs clamping closed on her hand as it drove the candle home. In one last redemptive act of propriety, she bit down hard on her lip, biting back a lewd cry.

Mmmmmfff!

Helpless and shuddering, relief seeped through Elise's tormented body, and she eased flat against the black stone beneath her.

The snickering of girl's voices rousted her from the void of post-pleasure, and her eyes flickered open as she regained her senses and recalled where she was. Moira stood over her, with Elise's broom propped over her shoulder, contemplating her fallen rival who lay there feebly on her back, besmirched with smudges of garden earth and grass, her tan skin sodden with sweat and thighs glistening with the honey of her ardor. Elise's wet blue eyes looked dumbly from her flushed, freckled face, damp strands of flaxen hair stuck to her cheeks.

"Silly bitch," said Moira, shaking her head. "I lied." A murmur tore through the crowd.

Elise's eyes snapped into focus and she dropped the vile and offending candle as she struggled to her knees. "What?! You-!?"

Moira laughed hysterically and raised her wand, waving it in a circle over the debased girl.

An unwelcome tingling passed through Elise's body, and she looked upon herself as her legs and arms started to fill out and lengthen. Her hips broadened and the lean muscularity returned to her calves, thighs, shoulders, and arms. Her stomach grew taut, and as she held her scrawny breasts they began to fill her hands, returning to their round and firm splendor. Even wisps of golden hair sprouted underneath her arms and between her legs as Elise's figure was restored fully to its natural state.

Elise knelt there, stunned in the aftermath of her transformation and dumbfounded by the complete betrayal she had suffered, while all around her peers broke into raucous laughter upon realizing Moira's deception. And it was Moira's wicked voice that she could hear clearly above the din, and the victorious witch tossed Elise's broom unceremoniously at her feet. Elise did not know whether to scream or to sob. All she could seem to do was rise on enervated and shaking legs, plaster a hand over her wet thighs, and struggle to shield her now well-formed bosom. She stood imposingly taller than Moira now, but somehow Elise felt small in comparison. She tried to rekindle the cold embers of fight in her, compel herself to simply overpower Moira right then and exact cruel revenge, but all she felt was fear, and without her wand she dared not try her luck.

Sullenly, Elise reached down and picked up her dear broom while the chatter and jeering deafened her. She turned away from Moira and shamefully mounted her broom, exposing herself one last time. The wooden shaft pressed lewdly into her still swollen lips, causing her to turn bright red, every bit of her body ablaze. Without word or hesitation she launched into flight, shooting through the doors of the great hall and out into the waning day.

As the Academe fell away below her, she tried to force herself from thinking, but the fresh air blowing and sweeping over her naked body was a constant reminder of her shameful defeat. And the haunting image of Moira's cruel laughing face was burned into her mind, and Elise's eyes swam with tears of hate at the thought of her.