The Witch and the Slave

On her twentieth birthday, Clara was strolling on the sidewalk when she felt herself being dragged backward. Wind howled around her ears and her vision swirled in a dizzying spiral before she blacked out.

When she awoke, the petite, raven-haired girl found herself standing in a spacious chamber illuminated by rows of burning torches. Her arms were stretched above her head and her wrists felt like they were hanging from a rope. The balls of her feet just touched the cold floor and she tried to tiptoe further to ease the strain on her arms and shoulders.

A wooden door creaked open and a feminine figure entered. Clad in a black bikini and a see-through, long-sleeved black jacket which was open at the front, she padded gracefully towards Clara. As she approached, Clara saw that the beautifully-proportioned newcomer was very tall, almost a head taller than her tiptoeing self. Under a blonde bob-cut, her youthful face held a look of disgust as she inspected Clara.

"You must feel a little lost. You were brought here to be a nursemaid and a sex slave," she said matter-of-factly.

"What?"

"Are you deaf? You are here to be a nursemaid and a sex slave."

"You're insane! Where am I? Let me down! I'll call the cops."

"Cease your whining, or..."

"Or what? You kidnapped me! To be a whore of all things! I'm a virgin!"

"My spell circle was designed to summon the most appropriate virgin within reach of my magical powers."

"That makes no bloody sense! I'm not going to play your game and I'm no one's slave. Let me down! I've got friends and family out there!"

Her eyes narrowed before her face softened.

"I see I have distressed you. My servants shall bring the tools to release you. Let us chat; maybe you can offer me suggestions."

"Okay... you wanted a sex slave, but you look really good when you aren't all frowny. You could get any guy or girl from the bar easily. So why do this summoning thing?"

"I do not need help with my libido, child. But my husband, Lord Emil, has an insatiable appetite for sex, and I cannot fulfill it."

"Then just ditch him! Or get a harem for him. What's your name, anyways?"

"Call me Brigit. I will not divorce him, for he is immensely wealthy, and I am carrying his offspring. And having a crowded mansion would be... distasteful."

"You're pregnant? You don't look like it."

"It has been so for less than a month. I am ambivalent about this child. I shall see this pregnancy through, but I want a nursemaid to care for the pest once he is out of my womb."

"You're a real piece of work. Can you let me down already?"

"In time I will."

With a snap of Brigit's fingers, the clothes and underwear on Clara's body burned up, without harming her at all.

The blonde had a mischievous smile as her hand lightly traced up Clara's spine. Reaching her neck, she brought their faces together and their lips met. The chaste kiss deepened into a searing tongue fight. Moments later, they broke apart, the bound woman's face flushed and lips aching for more.

The witch trailed a finger down her prize's stomach and drew circles around her clit. She stroked the labia and gently, teasingly pressed a finger into the cleavage between.

"You are as dry as a desert down here. Are you not enjoying this? Are you not enjoying me?" She lightly pinched the labia.

"Hey, I do so get wet when I masturbate, but this kidnapping thing is a bit of a downer."

"Shy little gosling..."

She circled Clara's waist with one arm and rubbed reassuring circles on her back. Raising her other hand to Clara's eye level, she twitched her fingers and a cylindrical object appeared in her grasp.

Clara studied it curiously. It was the size and shape of a large cucumber, but was bony white and looked rougher than a peach pit. It was painted with an apelike face.

Brigit held the idol up to Clara's lips. "Lick this."

"What? Why?"

"Lick this, with as much spit as you can," cajoled the witch.

"It looks weird. I'm not doing it."

"This is your final chance. Lick it. It will make things much easier."

"No, damn it. Just let me go already!"

The idol was slowly dragged down the indignant captive's neck, then between her breasts, and down the torso and past her sensitive slit.

Without warning, Brigit shoved the foot-long object into the vagina, burying it fully. Clara was tight; she had only ever masturbated by rubbing outside her pussy, and not even a pencil had entered her. Now, shearing off the dry walls of her sex, the idol tore her hymen, cut apart her cervix and came to rest at the dome of her womb. Clara had never felt such agony and she screamed.

Blood trickled out her vagina, around the idol. The witch cheerfully removed the object in a corkscrew motion, revealing the lifeblood and bits of flesh stuck to it. Mind reeling from pain, shock and confusion, Clara automatically clenched her legs together, trying to staunch the bleed. The witch giggled.

"Silly me, how will you be a sex slave if your crotch is all torn up?"

She pointed at her victim's nether region and it gave off a palm green glow. Blood stopped dripping and the gaping vagina narrowed.

"There, a bit of rest and it'll be as good as new! No helping that hymen, though."

Clara's battered body hung limply.

"You're here to stay, sweetie, and you're not here for a holiday. This will hurt, a lot."

Her consciousness slipped away.

/

"Oof!"

A sharp jab to the abdomen woke Clara up. She was still standing with her hands tied above her head and her shoulders felt badly strained. Brigit stood facing her.

"You've been out for an hour. I don't pay you to sleep. Wait, I don't pay you at all!" the witch chuckled. "Now we lay down the ground rules. You will follow any orders I give, or I will curse you with pain until you do."

"Fuck you."

A pounding headache erupted deep within Clara's skull.

"Fuck you!"

The headache doubled in intensity. She saw spots and felt like her brain would explode.

"Fu... stop it, stop it..." she whimpered, when she saw Brigit raise an eyebrow. The pain vanished.

"I've cast a vibrating spell on your G-spot and a gate spell on your brain to control your orgasms. I can give or deny you an orgasm at any time."

"Orgasms don't work that way," Clara retorted. "I can't get off if I don't feel horny. And before you make me your little rape doll, you should know I don't get off on pain either."

The witch folded her arms in annoyance at the interruption. "The spells will do as I have said. I can make you cum no matter how much you hate me."

"Real rape victims don't cum, you bitch."

Clara's crotch began to buzz like a vibrator and sexual arousal clouded her mind. She shifted her legs uncomfortably. Within thirty seconds, she was climaxing and fragrant pussy juice leaked out her slit.

"That's one," the witch said.

Abruptly, the orgasm stopped. A horny haze lingered in her mind, itching for a climax, but prevented from doing so. The buzzing continued and her arousal intensified. Brigit triggered the mental switch and Clara came strongly. Pussy juice coated her thighs and calves.

"Two."

Brigit clutched the slave's throat and tightened her grip. Shocked at this move, Clara lost her orgasm. Her face and ears reddened, her breaths became short gasps and she felt herself starting to black out. Then the buzzing at her privates kicked up a notch and she climaxed again, through the abuse.

"Three."

The witch removed her hand. A thunderclap headache erupted within the slave's cranium and drowned out her ecstasy. She began to retch, but each dry heave only worsened the pain. Below, the buzzing doubled in intensity; she felt like a jackhammer was pounding her pussy. Soon, an orgasm flashed through her body even as the headache persisted.

"Four."

The headache disappeared and the vibration in her crotch stopped. Her breath came in ragged gasps and an overpowering, musky stench filled the room. Clara slumped in exhaustion.

With a flick of the wrist, Brigit conjured a poker. Clara felt a wave of heat and looked blearily at the white-hot poker, before her eyes widened in terror. Just as she was about to kick away the tool, the poker was pushed a few inches into her quivering pussy. Clara convulsed from the torture but even as the flesh on her crotch began to steam and melt, the witch forced her into another frenzied orgasm. Her pelvis humped the poker involuntarily.

"Five."

The witch dismissed her poker and healed the spent slave. The damaged crotch showed no sign of injury except for a mild redness.

"Did that hurt?"

The slave nodded.

"Did you orgasm?"

There was no response. Brigit slapped the slave's tearful face.

"Did you orgasm?"

She nodded.

"So you managed to cum from being raped, whore. Moving on," the witch drawled. "You will obey my commands. You will not leave this mansion unless I tell you to.

"You have no room of your own, and will go or sleep wherever I tell you to. You will have no clothes, except for what I lend you. You will serve me and my husband. He has been charmed to believe that you enjoy every sexual act you do, no matter what you actually say or scream.

"If you do well, I will reward you."

Clara looked at her new owner hopefully.

"I will give you temporary aphrodisiacs so that you will crave our attention and enjoy the torture more."

And her heart fell.

"Your new name is Freak. What is your name?"

"My name is Cl..."

A mild headache was her only warning. "My name is Freak."

/

For the ensuing months, Clara's life fell into a perverse routine.

Clara, Brigit and Emil shared the master bedroom. The married couple had a sizable bed, while the slave had a cot that barely fit her.

For two nights a week, before bedtime, Brigit would have intercourse with her husband, even as her belly continued to swell and she became more easily tired. On all other nights, Clara would be in charge of this end-of-the-day sex.

Every morning, before sunrise, Clara would crawl into the main bed and start Emil's day with carnal favors.

If Clara did not drain off his libido adequately and he approached the witch for sex more often, the witch would punish her harshly. She did her best to serve as the lusty man's plaything, improving her technique by trial and error. Despite the frequent sex, their acts were relatively tame - penetration, oral, hand-jobs and the like.

On the other hand, when Emil was out of the mansion, Brigit made the slave's existence a living nightmare. She used golems to upkeep the mansion, so she had plenty of free time for this.

/

Sometimes, Clara would be ordered to do chores or odd jobs, or service the witch sexually. Most of the time, however, she was the puppet for Brigit's sadistic amusement, and the pregnant witch channeled all of her fiery temper into torturing slave.

Severe injuries or humiliating punishments, previously unimaginable to Clara who had lived a sheltered life, were routine. Her mistress could heal just about anything, if she decided to. Often, she would be forced to orgasm despite the abuse, leaving her ashamed and conflicted.

The slave's clothes were loaned to her one day at a time. Infrequently, they were actual outfits, like maid uniforms or Chinese dresses, but usually they were underwear, swimwear or nothing at all. A few times, she was only given twine and the witch would laugh at her attempts to knot together a decent cover. The hidden reason for those occasions was to tempt her into hanging herself, but Clara did not do so; Brigit always knew when she was dying or intending to die, and stopped every suicidal attempt easily.

/

Some tortures were simple enough. Clara could be suspended from the stable's rafters, then forced to suffer orgasms and headaches for hours at a stretch. Roaches, rodents and other pests crawled over her and gnawed away.

Predictably, the innocent slave did not take well to orders to play with urine. Instead of using pain to enforce this, Brigit devised a game to manipulate her into obeying voluntarily. She locked the slave in a cage in a sweltering room without food or drink. Clara sweated profusely but the sloping floor guided the precious fluid away, and she could not even lick the floor to quench her thirst. Hours later, she was too dehydrated to even perspire, and her throat was parched. The mistress blatantly pissed into a mug, before giving it to the slave who gratefully gulped the steaming, frothy liquid. Subsequently, when Brigit entered the cage, the submissive Clara latched onto her crotch without hesitation to suck the urine out.

Once, the witch placed a medical urine catheter into the slave's urethra. She used super-glue to seal the urethra around the catheter then clamped the catheter so urine would not flow out. At first, the unsuspecting slave obediently drank glass after glass of water. By the time she felt like urinating and found it impossible, it was too late for regrets. Even after she stopped drinking, her bladder continued to stretch and ache amidst an intensifying urge to pee. Now and then, she would be forced to orgasm through the pain, and bladder would spasm even more.

For the rest of that day, Brigit collected her own urine and injected it into Clara's bladder through the catheter, until the organ formed a clearly defined bulge ending an inch above the navel. She unclamped the catheter and stepped onto the slave's belly, hosing down the crying woman with blood-streaked urine. Finally, she tugged the firmly-glued catheter and tore off a chunk of Clara's crotch, allowing her to bleed profusely for a time before healing the wound.

The humiliation with body waste did not end there. Brigit stopped using toilet paper or the bidet completely. Initially, Clara refused to lick the witch's nether regions clean, but Brigit simply forced her down with magic and sat down on her face. Clara gagged and threw up from the smell of pregnant pussy and excrement. Headaches and threats eventually convinced her to lick her mistress clean. From then on, the slave needed less motivation to serve as a living bog roll.

/

Since she could repair the slave as often as she pleased, Brigit had plenty of ideas for objects to insert into her orifices. Some were small, like grapes and marbles. Some were larger, like candles and stun batons. Others were enormous. She also had a rose-themed dildo with retractable thorns. A few times, she impaled the slave with glass toys before smashing them with forceful kicks from the outside.

If Brigit felt generous, she would get Clara wet before the insertion, or use lubricants. Other times, she experimented with tabasco sauce, glues, industrial cleaners or sand for a "lubricant".

Despite the rough toying, some of which reached through her cervix to pound right into her womb, Clara's miraculously healed organs continued her menstrual cycle. Brigit took advantage of this. Outside of menstruation, the witch could seal Clara's labia shut so that the urine leaving her bladder would enter the vaginal cavity, before flowing up the womb. During menses, the same idea was more insidious. The cramping womb would squeeze its bloody discharge into the blocked vagina, distending it, but afterwards the tense vagina would squeeze the urine-and-blood mix right back into the womb, amplifying the cramps.

The only time the young slave was allowed to leave the mansion was when her mistress' playtime required it, for example using the stable or garage, or torture under the open sky. Rarely, the humiliated woman would be ordered to collect parcels or food from the delivery people, in threadbare clothes or in the nude, with money shoved into her pussy. The notes and coins were extracted in front of their appreciative eyes.

/

Clara was hanging upside down from her ankles, with her legs apart, forming a 'Y' shape with the rest of her body. Her wrists were tied behind her back, and her face felt uncomfortably warm and stuffy.

A tapering ivory tusk almost as tall as her was perched, tip down, on her anus. It was spelled to stay upright, and glistened with a thick layer of lube. Float spells supported most of its considerable weight, leaving it lighter than a grape, so the slave only felt a faint touch on her anus.

The Float spells were cancelled. Gravity crashed the magically-upright tusk into her asshole, and she screamed weakly. The heavy spike continued to push in, finally stopping three inches in when its weight was cancelled out by the anal sphincter's tight grip, and Clara's clenched buttocks.

That was the prelude to the day's discipline session.

Against her will, Clara was forced into a powerful orgasm. Her body and asshole tensed but failed to push out the heavy cone. Then the climax was cut off and her muscles relaxed. Her anus also loosened slightly, and the tusk continued its slow descent until she regained her wits and clenched frantically again.

This repeated countless times, with the tusk sinking deeper until a bulge formed at the soft flesh at the base of her breastbone. Under it, the tip of the tusk could be clearly felt. The shiny skin continued to tent out agonizingly before tearing, with the tusk abruptly driving through until its tip protruded several inches out of the slave's front.
For the rest of the day, whenever Clara's body was wracked with an orgasm, blood, fluid and bits of excrement and torn guts would dribble out the wound, around the tusk.

/

Brigit pressed a cool crystal ball to Clara's forehead, and the slave was sucked into the ball with a crushing sensation.

She woke up in darkness but realized that she was blindfolded and otherwise nude. Pulling at the cloth, she found it stuck to her head, and gave up. The warm air felt good on her bare skin, and smelled like freshly laundered sheets. She walked around carefully. It felt like she was walking on a springy mattress, except she could not find its edges. Kneeling down, she let her hands savor the feel of clean, dry surface, before she went wild and bounced and rolled around. This was even more comfortable than the bed Master and Mistress slept on!

"Be still and listen," Mistress' voice cut through her joy, and she froze.

"The two of you will be imprisoned in this world until I am satisfied. You will pleasure each other and I will not stop or give you any orgasms. You will notice that a headache is building up. The harder you pleasure your partner, the more the headache will fade."

So there was someone out there, Clara thought.

She walked around randomly in the darkness, waving her arms, but could not hear or feel anyone and began to worry. A mild ache throbbed within her skull, and grew uncomfortably, but it was bearable.

Suddenly, she was pushed back onto the mattress. Arms circled her waist and there was a tentative sucking and licking at her crotch. Something fleshy was on her face. Still blindfolded, she patted her hands around. Feeling a firm backside and smooth, feminine thighs, she realized that her face was right at her partner's crotch and started to play with it as well. Clara came first, but soon her partner also dripped and bucked in an obvious orgasm. Clara's headache eased off, then began to build once more.

After several rounds, she found it harder to cum as hard, and it also seemed harder to get her partner off. Without hesitation, the slave tapped into the tips and tricks she had learnt in the mansion - things like subtle changes of rhythm, how to pleasure the urethra, and blowing into her partner's pussy. Her partner was no slouch and kept up with her readily.

Clara's headache built up more quickly each time and she found that her partner's orgasms no longer erased her headache fully.

Both women continued to up their game and were soon fingering inside both the front and back passages, rather than just using their mouths on the surface. Clara was jealous of her partner's tight holes - was she a newbie? Maybe her owner only scolded her or only fucked her gently? This girl's holes felt barely used. She privately named her partner Princess.