Tamara's Apprenticeship - Day 04

"Mildred," Tamara whispered, "I want to try it. For you. Try putting it in me."

Mildred trembled in Tamara's arms and gave a tiny squeal, whether of excitement or embarrassment Tamara couldn't tell.

Before her own impulsive daring had a chance to dissipate, Tamara turned quickly around and bent herself face-down over the table, "Come on. At least give it a go."

"I... It won't... I'm sorry," Mildred gurgled.

"I'll tell you to stop," Tamara whispered over her shoulder, "If I can't take it."

"Uh... uh, okay," Mildred seemed to hesitate, "If you're really sure."

"That's the spirit," Tamara reached back between her own legs and held out her hand, "Now give it here."

There was a moment of stillness in which Tamara felt the skin of the palm of her hand prickle with anticipation. Then something touched her. She grasped, and took hold of it. There was that softness. And the pulsing heat. She felt it twitch and heard Mildred groan behind her. Tamara pulled gently on the tip of the horsecock she was holding, until she could press it to herself. It slid over her wetness and her sensitive skin, and she fancied she could feel the bumps and knobbles around the tip.

Was she really going to get this inside her? Up against her, it felt a lot wider than it had looked, as if she were rubbing a billiard ball against her cunt.

A bit like that time you rubbed a billiard ball against your cunt?

Shut up inner-Tam, that never happened.

Tamara focused. She scrunched her eyes closed and wriggled her hips, pushing herself firmly back against the end of Mildred's now conveniently rock-rigid cock. She felt herself begin to splay, her lips spreading across the flattened head of the tip. As she parted, a warm gush of wetness, maybe hers maybe Mildred's, probably both, washed out and coated her skin, trickling down over her partly exposed nub.

She opened her eyes and saw the carefully traced pattern of equations on the fresh sheet of parchment in front of her. They were beginning to glow!

That was what all this was about. What she was doing here. For Miss Millie, for her apprenticeship. She was learning magic. To be a witch.

A wicked sexy witch! Come on Tam! You can take this! For Miss Millie!

"Mmmmissss... unh... M-M-Milllieee!" Tamara moaned as she arched her back and thrust backwards with her hips.

There was a slow, agonizing stretching sensation, accompanied by a burning yet curiously pleasant heat right at her opening. At first Tamara couldn't tell whether it was in or not. So she grasped with her fingers, fumbled around the shaft of Mildred's cock for the rim of her own tight entrance, then found it. All the way over the tip and onto the shaft!

It's in! It's in!

Tamara couldn't help but clench as a warm shudder of excitement passed through her insides. She had never felt this stretched before. Nor imagined she could. And holy hell did it feel good!

Mildred groaned again. She gave the faintest of thrusts, just nudging forward, and Tamara felt her tightly sealed opening shift back and forth, pulled by Mildred's movement.

"Uhh," Tamara wheezed as she felt Mildred's hands come down on her buttocks, "Mildred, uh, maybe... maybe you won't be able to, um... move much I'm afraid, but I can just, you know..." she clenched again to demonstrate, "Squeeze you a bit."

There was a trace of a rapid repetitive movement from behind her, carried through Mildred's body. Tamara realized Mildred must be nodding vigorously.

Taking a deep breath, Tamara gathered her strength for a second hard clench around Mildred's unyielding shaft. Then another. Then another, accompanied by a little twist-and-screw of her hips.

"Unnnh! Uh!" Mildred murmured behind her, "I'm... sorry... I'm... coming..."

"You're coming home!" Tamara cried out excitedly, "That's right Mildred, you're coming home!"

"N-no," Mildred grunted, "Actually coming... Like, you know... cummmminnnnngh!"

"Oh. Shit! Mildred," Tamara scrabbled for something she had earlier secreted behind her ear, "I need to ask you a favor. To... uh... use this," she held up one of the extra-large, ultra-durable condoms between two fingers.

"Use... a...? Okay," Mildred's grunting intensified, "I mean, it's demon seed so weirdly you can't actually... Um but whatever you want. Just... quickly!"

Tamara hefted herself forward and with a squelching, cunt-stretching squeeep she unplugged herself. The sudden sensation of being emptied overwhelmed her, her cunt clamped hard on itself, trying, and then suddenly and unexpectedly succeeding, in wringing itself quickly to the incipient orgasm of which it had just been robbed.

In a moany groany blur, Tamara staggered round on orgasmically jellified legs and ripped open the wrapper of the condom with her teeth. As she fumbled and fiddled trying to prepare the slippery roll of latex in her fingers, she inwardly cursed her lesbianism for providing her with inadequate experience in the use of contraceptives.

With a gasp, she saw the dribbling slit at the end of Mildred's throbbing horsecock loose off its first long spurt. She lunged to capture as much of it as she could with the half unfurled condom before shoving it firmly on and rolling the ring all the way down to the base with her tightly clenched fist.

XXXXL. Accurately labeled product. I wonder why Miss Millie keeps these? Probably best not to think about it.

Oh no Tam, best to think about it a lot. Very carefully. Just... later, when you get some alone time.

Tamara pumped hard and Mildred groaned and twitched, her cock stiffening and slackening with each fresh spurt. The bulb at the end of the condom quickly began to distend with its contents.

"Hurry," Mildred panted, "Get another co- ungggh... another co-"

"Another condom?" Tamara hadn't thought she might need more than one.

"Another... co-... coke," Mildred pointed feebly to the stack of cans beside the table.

In her eagerness to harvest Mildred's magical cum for her own purposes, Tamara had forgotten about the first objective. To supercharge Mildred's accidental soda-fueled transportation spell with horniness. She saw the equations suddenly ablaze with an eerie light whose color almost matched that of her minty mouthwash-painted skin.

Tamara reached with her free hand to swipe a coke can. With the can in one hand and the still pulsing base of Mildred's cock in the other, Tamara flung herself down into a position she had never imagined she would need: Kneeling with her two fists in the air furiously double-pumping. For the second time in the space of only a few moments, she had cause to lament her lack of experience with what she assumed was an everyday feature of a heterosexual girl's life.

The condom swelled and filled. The bulb, heavy with a good liter or so of Mildred's demon juice and still swelling, sagged to the floor. Tamara looked up, "This is it Mildred, you're going home. When this thing pops-"

Mildred looked down at the end of her horsecock, puzzled.

"No, this one," Tamara nodded at the can of coke that she was shaking, "When I pop it open, I'm going to dive out of the way, and you do whatever you do to make the spell work, okay?"

Mildred nodded hesitantly, "Okay. I mean, it just sort of-"

Tamara flinched as the can burst open prematurely in her hand. There was a loud foamy sizzle and a fountain of overexcited coke began gushing out. Tamara tossed the can quickly onto the table, yanked the condom off the end of Mildred's cock, tied it off, then clutched it tight to herself as she rolled across the floor as far away from the gathering cloud of magical fumes as she could.

***

The smoke cleared. Tamara flopped onto her back with a groan. The floor was hard.

What? What was that? Where am I?

She carefully pulled each of her eyelids unstuck from a film of brimstoney soot and congealed sticky mouthwash. It took her a few attempts to align her frustratingly unresponsive eyes and overlay the two blurry images on her retinas, but when an image came into view it was familiar. Wooden beams, plaster, a ceiling. The ceiling of Miss Millie's basement.

I'm still here. I didn't get horny-blasted to Hell.

Tamara breathed a sigh of relief. She craned her neck half upright and looked around. Wisps of smoke were slowly dissipating in the still air of the basement. The table on which she and Mildred had lain the parchment was now a rugged charred skeleton, little more than four blackened, blasted stumps.

And Mildred? Tamara swiveled her neck, painfully. Mildred was gone.

It had worked. All being well, Mildred was home. Home to her dorm room and her succubus friend Minty. The swell of satisfied triumph that rose in Tamara's chest was tempered moments later by a wistful regret. She had bonded with Mildred. Perhaps they had even become friends, tentatively, over the course of a couple of days and two friendly strictly professional magical sex acts. And now she might never see Mildred again. Never learn whether she finally worked things out with her crush Minty, about whom Tamara had learned so much.

Her musings on friends and crushes and magical sex acts stirred something suddenly at the back of Tamara's mind. What else had she been doing? There was something, an unfinished thought stumbling around somewhere inside her mildly concussed brain.

She felt something in her hands. Something she was clutching preciously to her chest as if it were her own gutted heart. She startled, worried suddenly that it might actually be her own gutted heart. But no. Too big, for one. Much too big. And sort of sloshy, liquidy.

A CONDOM FULL OF MAGICAL CUM TAM IT'S A CONDOM FULL OF MAGICAL CUM.

Tamara sat bolt upright and almost catapulted her precious cargo across the room with the force of her own urgent movement. She palpated the giant latex membrane she held in her arms. Intact. Intact, but leaking. It was leaking! She looked down and sure enough there was a tiny hole near the bloated teat right at the tip of the condom. And it was oozing. Slowly and viscously, but oozing.

Ultra-durable, huh? Well. This probably goes a bit beyond the standard use case the manufacturers envisioned.

Quick, Tam, quick now. This is it. You got one shot before this thing bursts and it's all wasted.

Tamara hefted the condom delicately up onto her chest. She pinched two fingers carefully over the tiny hole to stem the seepage. The huge sac sloshed and distended, shifting its shape across her body. It threatened several times to bulge right out of her grip, but she waited patiently until its form stabilized, then she set off.

She tottered to the stairs and up. She paused for breath on the ground floor, then heaved onward, up to the little landing where two doors faced each other, one to Miss Millie's bedroom, the other to the study. Kicking the door open with her foot, Tamara staggered into the study.

She searched the floorboards in the dimness. The scuffs and traces of the portal spell were still there, just visible where she had chalked them recently for Miss Millie. They would serve as a guide, but she was confident now that she didn't need them. She had studied the symbols and the principles behind them avidly with every spare moment since Miss Millie's departure, even sneaking the spell book into the games store to read under the counter. She could reproduce them exactly as she had drawn them that evening.

Her arms beginning to weaken and sag under the weight of the condom, Tamara lurched to the row of chests along the far wall. With the tip of her foot she lifted the lid of one of them and flung it open. Then she reached in with her foot, and after a few fumbling attempts managed to snag a stick of chalk between her big and middle toes.

The condom sloshed precariously, rocked by chaotic cum-turbulence, as Tamara hopped back to the patch of floorboards where she could see the traces of the spell. Then she began to draw. A slow sweat of nervousness began to bead out across her brow as she tried hard to hold her foot steady for the precision she needed, while also reining in the sporadic bulges and lurches of the increasingly heavy condom she bore in her arms. Tamara smiled to herself. As she sweated, she felt a cool residual peppermint vapor lifting the heat from her skin.

Then, even before she knew it, she was tracing the outline of the final symbol, completing the circle. The stick of chalk was worn to a tiny stub lodged between her toes. It was as if she had been writing automatically, acting by rote. It was done.

Okay Tam, you ready?

Bring it on.

With a deep breath, Tamara summoned the last of her strength and flung her arms upward, tossing the unwieldy weight of the condom into the air.

It wobbled. And it wibbled. And then with a loud PLAP it slammed to the floorboards and rebounded like a giant flaccid sausage, then sloshed down again, stubbornly intact.

Seriously?

The tiny rip at the end of the condom was still slowly oozing. Where the trickle hit one of the symbols, the chalk began to sizzle and fume.

Casting around for something with which to puncture the membrane of the condom, Tamara found nothing. With hazy magical fumes already beginning to fill the air the spell was underway, but incorrectly. There was only one thing for it.

Tamara closed her eyes and stood right in front of the quivering sac before her on the floor. She held out her arms, puffed up her chest with air, then let herself fall forwards in what would have been hailed as the beginning an olympic-class swan dive if only anyone else had been there to witness it.

Miss Millie here I come!

SPLAM!