Sex stories

Sex stories




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.
Still, this was the best day Clara had had since arriving at the mansion. Quite possibly this was the absolute best day in her life so far. She fought down the mounting resentment at Princess' easy life.

Eventually the headache hurt so much that her hatred won out. Remembering the rules of the game, she tried to think of disgusting things to stave off her own orgasms, so that the lucky bitch would fail the task, hurt more, and understand some of her pain. However, her daily tortures made it too easy to link gore and filth with arousal. She tried another tactic. She focused on her orgasms to try and chase away the headache with pleasure. She fucked Princess more violently, hoping the other woman would appreciate it and return the favor.

By now, they were pumping each other with four fingers at a time. With a snarl that was both hateful and apologetic, Clara took the initiative. Pulling out her hand and aiming it at one hole, she rammed it in and buried her hand past the knuckles, almost to the wrist. Her partner gasped and stopped for a moment, but soon both were fisting with abandon.

It reached the point where they were pumping elbow-deep in each other. Their rectums were almost clean and their pussies stank of shit. Their bladders were empty; there was no way to hold your piss when your pee hole was two fingers wide.

How many hours had passed? When would this end? There was no sunlight to give any indication of time.

Clara had her arm in her partner's vagina and womb.

Princess was elbow-deep in Clara's ass and was biting at her clit, giving her yet another orgasm. The stranger used her buried hand to claw around Clara's guts. With a ripping sound, Clara's intestines perforated and Princess felt around for her kidney, before giving it a powerful squeeze.

Flailing and writhing from the excruciating events, Clara, who had been holding in her nausea from the awful smells, finally vomited violently. By the time she stopped, the slave realized that she was floating, and her partner was gone. A familiar wave of healing magic washed over her. When she had been restored, her body fell for several seconds and landed back on a soft surface.

The blindfold loosened itself and slid off her face. Her eyes stung as they adjusted to the sudden light. Wispy clouds hung in the pale blue sky, and the sun was bright and warm like in early summer. She thought she was outdoors, but the ground was strange. It was a checkerboard, with large squares of light brown and light green as far as the eye could see. There were some small knolls and depressions, tiled the same way, but no buildings. She walked around and the ground had the same texture and give as the mattress she had been on earlier.

In the distance, she heard squeals and yelps of happiness. She ran towards the sound and when she reached the top of a mound, the source became visible. To her surprise, it was a dark-haired young woman, naked except for a blindfold, rolling and bouncing around the ground.

The frolicking person looked just like Clara. The doppelganger suddenly stood still with her head cocked, like she was listening to an invisible voice, then started to walk around with her arms outstretched.

"Do you like the show?"

Clara turned around and saw a semi-transparent figure of her mistress. Her head began to throb.

"Have you figured it out?"

Ignoring the nagging feeling of unease, she shook her head.

"I don't blame you, since you are stupid. You were fucking your future self. The crystal ball just sent you back in time, and that pile of trash there is your past self. The two of you will be playing this game. Good luck."
The projection fizzled out and as she watched her other self, Clara's eyes brimmed with tears. She knew how violently it had to end for Brigit to be satisfied, and had to do that to her past self. She was tempted to do it immediately to end the game, but remembered how happy she had been when a partner lovingly treated her. Up until the very end when she had vomited, she had secretly enjoyed the series of non-magical orgasms. She could not take away this happiness from her past self.

If she was judging her pain correctly, then the headache of her current self would be stronger and worsen more quickly than the one her past self would be experiencing. It would be a constant dilemma between drawing out her past self's pleasure and ending the pain earlier for both of them.

/

Eight and a half months after Clara's summoning (not that she was counting), Brigit went into labor. Using magic, she transferred every shred of pain from the contractions and childbirth to the slave, and watched in amusement as the slave was forced to orgasm through it all.

With not the slightest discomfort on the witch's part, her cervix and vagina stretched open and baby Darius was born.

"That miserable grub is your job now. Raise it however you want, but if it dies or gets ill, you will have to answer to Emil."

/

Baby Darius was breastfed. When he cried for milk, Brigit used a spell to cause the milk forming in her own breasts to magically build up in her slave's breasts. Having not developed the right mammaries for breastfeeding, the buildup in the petite slave's small, almost flat breasts hurt tremendously.

A separate spell only permitted milk to leave Clara's nipple when the baby was suckling and she was sufficiently aroused at the same time. Brigit either granted her the magical vibration, or watched the pseudo-wet nurse frantically try to masturbate herself amidst the burning pain of her breasts and the baby's deafening crying.

Occasionally, as was the case during pregnancy, Clara was still required to pleasure her mistress. When she fingered her mistress' holes, she was envious and amazed to find that despite childbirth, her pussy was as tight as a fresh virgin's, and her hymen was intact. Whenever it was torn by sex, it would grow back.

/

Clara largely took care of Darius alone, including bathing and changing his diapers. The severity of the next day's punishment often depended on how quickly she soothed Darius' crying the previous night.

A few mornings, when Clara looked at the dresser on which the day's attire would be laid out, she saw the baby's dirty diapers instead. She threw them away, thinking she had left them out by accident, and spent the day nude. One day, after several hints had gone ignored, Brigit tortured the slave into putting on the diaper.

Since then, whenever she saw a diaper on that dresser, the obedient slave knew what to do. When Emil was out or did not need her services, Clara had to wear Darius' soiled diaper and was not allowed to use the toilet. Her crotch squished and squelched when she walked or sat, as the baby's stale urine and feces mixed with her own fresh ones and inevitably pushed their way into her orifices.

/

"You actually like that crying lump, don't you?" asked the witch.

"Yes, Mistress."

"Do you love it?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Do you love it enough to cum on its diapers?"

"... No, Mistress."

"No need to be shy, you freak. Let me help you."

Brigit snapped her fingers and Clara found herself clamped spread-eagled on a table. She did not try to pull her limbs free, knowing it would be futile. With another snap, a small pile of Darius' soiled diapers shimmered into view and hung in mid-air around the two women. Some still glistened with urine and excrement and reeked strongly.

A few diapers pasted themselves on the slave's arms and legs. They massaged the length of her limbs, leaving streaks of brown and yellow, before doing the same to her abdomen, breasts and neck.

"Oh no, you can't take a mud bath and forget your face. How forgetful of you!"

One diaper flew to the restrained woman's face and wrapped around her head. She could not shake off the makeshift mask and struggled to breathe. Her lungs burned but each gasp only caused baby Darius' waste to be sucked into her nose and mouth.

Moments later, the diaper peeled away and Clara tried to cough and snort out the foul matter. She glared tearfully at the witch, and the witch smiled back.

Several diapers floated together. They rolled and twisted and compressed densely until they resembled a foot-long, knobbly sausage. The rod approached Clara until it lightly touched her lips. She tried to turn her face away but the rod followed.

"Won't you lick this for me?" Brigit asked innocently.

Clara made a spitting motion to try and dislodge the rod. The witch pinched her slave's nose until she had to open her mouth to breathe, then the rod shoved itself down her throat. After her nose had been released, the rod pumped in and out, always plugging her throat tightly whenever her body tried to vomit.

As the deep throating session continued, Brigit triggered the forced orgasms.

"Naughty little thing! You're cumming while being face-fucked by a dirty diaper!"

She created another two dildos out of diapers and they made a beeline for her crotch. The three filthy rods pistoned in and out of Clara deeply and she moaned from the waves of orgasms - not all of them magical.

Hours later, the diaper-dildos pulled out of Clara for the final time. She was spent, sweaty and coated inside and outside with baby crap. As she took in shaky breaths, her mistress spoke.

"I have been a poor mistress - I have not rewarded you for helping me during my pregnancy. Rejoice, for I shall give you a spawn of your own now."

A diaper skipped forward and stretched itself into the shape of a very long noodle. One end snaked silently and unhindered into the slave's vagina, reaching the tightly shut opening of her cervix. It burrowed into the opening, and the rest of the noodle proceeded to move into her womb like a large earthworm coming home. As Clara felt the crampy ache from her womb being stretched, she tried to clench her abdomen and expel it, but it had no effect. When the entire length of diaper had crawled into the womb, Brigit healed the gaping cervix until it was a tight pinpoint again. Clara was now "pregnant" with a soiled diaper, and it was impossible for the new "fetus" to fall back out.

"By the way, why don't you try breaking out of those metal clamps?"

Obediently, Clara wrenched her arms forward. The clamps cracked apart with astonishing ease. The same went for her legs.

"Do you understand? You could have walked free any time but you just accepted the shit and rape without a fight. Just think, maybe I was going to send you home if you showed some heart this one time."

The witch smirked victoriously.

Every day after that, Brigit would pick a soiled diaper and add it to her slave's womb in the same way. Clara's womb and belly stretched until she was nearly as large as Brigit at the height of her pregnancy. Emil did not suspect any foul play, as he had been charmed into thinking that Clara was pregnant with his child, and there was no reduction in his daily sexual needs.

/

Clara was dusting the bookshelves in Brigit's witching atelier. No one, even Emil, could read the books - they were magically shut to all except the mistress of the workshop. As such, the books were as interesting as plain bricks to her.

It was her birthday - her twenty-first birthday - although by now her memories were so fractured that she did not know her birthday, age or family, and believed her real name was Freak.

She moved on to a massive, leather-bound tome which had its own pedestal and continued to clean. The book glowed and a gentle voice filled her head.

"Lass, won't you make a contract with me?"

/

Entry 01, Date 30-08-1998

This is the first entry of the diary / journal / grimoire of Clarity Marie Trimble. I hope. I can't do any magic yet.

I got back all my memories today and I feel violated and outraged. My handwriting is all weird and shaky because I haven't written in a year. Today was probably the biggest turning point of my life.

As of this morning, I had become unable to read all but the simplest words. I forgot most of my past, my friends and family - they have probably given me up for dead by now.

When I was cleaning Brigit's - wow, I've never called her that to her face, but I refuse to call her Mistress anymore - workshop, her grimoire spoke to me. His name is Nabu. He healed my fucked up mind and body and even got rid of the crap that Brigit has been pushing into my uterus.

He was the one who unlocked her magical ability decades ago in return for her promise to learn magic. But she got lazy after a few months and got hooked on comics and television, so he's right pissed. She also stopped having sex with him.

Apparently the spell which summoned me a year ago was meant to summon a familiar spirit, but she made a mistake when modifying it. Nabu says it scanned the planet for the strongest soul before using that soul's own power to transport it. That's me. I ended up really, really far from home, on the other side of the globe.

Nabu is convinced that I have a much greater magical potential than Brigit. He said that if I made a contract with him, he would unlock my magic, teach me how to use it and even help me get revenge on her. In return, I would have to devote the rest of my life to furthering his brand of magic, and occasionally have sex with him.

It was a no-brainer. It's a crazy good deal and there's no fine print to it.

As part of the contract ritual, I had to give him an orgasm. Currently, he is only able to grow a penis from his book cover, but hopefully we can develop a spell to give him a body. Anyway, I've been a sex slave for a full year and can satisfy someone like Emil, so making Nabu cum was a piece of cake. Also, he hadn't had sex in years and had a huge case of figurative blue balls. He leaked pre-cum just from my dirty talk, and came the moment he was in my mouth. It was really anti-climactic. Climactic, climax, get it? To sweeten the deal, I kept on fucking him until his inky black semen ran out and his orgasms turned dry.

Right now, Nabu has Brigit under a coma, and she won't be waking up until we allow it.

/

Entry ##, Date ##-##-####

Nabu explained how witch got her immortality and healing powers. She used a ritual invoking an Egyptian harvest deity, and linked her soul to a ring. As long as the ring is in contact with earth and water, she will be immortal and any wound can be healed. If she needs to regenerate mass, then the ring will consume the earth and water around it and transform it into her tissues.

She does not need to wear the ring, and it's at the bottom of the pond behind the mansion now. I can't wait to test her invulnerability. If her immortality and healing are so perfect, then I can make her suffer as hard as I want, for as long as I want.

Nabu taught me a spell that controls the rate of a woman's lactation (it can start, stop, maintain or speed up the milk production) and another that controls letdown (the milk's flow out of the nipple).

We woke up Brigit and Nabu temporarily blocked off her memories. I practiced the lactation and letdown spells on her to get them down pat, before having some fun.

I shut down her nipples and sped up her lactation a hundredfold. Her breasts swelled bigger than watermelons and got a bruised purple color. When I allowed her to release the milk, it sprayed all the way to the ceiling. Her breasts healed fully in less than three minutes.

/

Entry ##, Date ##-##-####

I've run some experiments on Brigit's regeneration.

I boiled off the pond and found her ring near the bottom. I took it and put it in a barrel of earth and water to observe the consumption of mass more easily.
If she does not eat or drink, then she does not pee or shit at all.

Cuts and stabs heal quickly, but if the wounds are held open, they will continue to bleed. She managed to bleed a whole barrel's worth of blood, and use up a barrel's worth of earth and water, but didn't die.

Similar consumption is reproduced when I remove a finger, a hand, an arm, or even all four limbs at once. Lactation also consumes earth and water.

If I can create more immortality rings for her, then I will probably cast them into the sea so that no one can disrupt her immortality, and keep a few to continue my experiments.

/

Entry ##, Date ##-##-####

I have three permanent spells on me - the headache, vibrator and mental orgasm switch. The figurine that Brigit used to take my virginity on Day One held the controls for all of them, but I've grafted the controls onto my body. It's odd to be able to give myself a headache at will, but it's better than letting anyone who holds the idol fool with me. If I choose not to activate the spells, they don't affect my life or sex at all.

Creating the control tool for a girl requires the blood shed when she loses her virginity. The more blood you get, the more control spells you can use. Breaking the hymen with normal sex doesn't give enough blood even one spell to work. In my case, Brigit could afford to get really destructive with the first thrust because she was confident of healing me, so I bled enough to support three control spells.

Since Brigit's self-healing is strong enough to restore her hymen, Nabu and I think that the ritual magic will recognize her as a virgin every time I break it. For starters, I plan to collect three to four gallons of her blood. More blood can be collected in future to add more spells.

/

Brigit was being memory-blocked after every session, because it was amusing to see her not have a clue that she was about to be tortured and experimented on.

Presently, she opened her eyes and found herself tied upright to a metal frame, her arms and legs held facing out. She thought she had been awoken by something pressing on her crotch.

Studying the full length mirror in front of her, she saw that there was an old-fashioned wooden broom positioned upright, below her suspended self. Its handle was rough, knobbly and splintered. The end of the handle was pressing against her closed labia.

The broom was not on the floor; it was held aloft by a contraption with visible gears and cranks. It reminded her of a piston engine, except that the diameter was so large that if the broom was a piston, it would be moving through quite a large distance...

Below the broom was a wide porcelain tub, and it seemed empty.

She realized with mounting confusion and fear that the gears were moving, and the broom was indeed working as a piston, rising extremely slowly. The advancing broomstick inflicted extreme pain due to its width and texture.

It took nearly fifteen minutes for the blunt broom to force apart her pussy lips and stretch her hymen to the point of tearing. She did not even notice the ripping because her entire crotch was on fire.

She struggled to raise herself away from the improvised dildo, but could never sustain it for long before descending and penetrating herself again. Once, she gathered her strength and flung herself completely off the rod, but her subsequent fall splintered the tip of the broom and re-inserted the broom in one motion, shredding her pussy.

After what seemed like an eternity, the broom was just touching her cervix. For the next half an hour, the broom pushed on the smooth cervix and its pinpoint opening. Although Brigit did not know she possessed immortality and healing powers, they were functional nevertheless. The broomstick pressed relentlessly against the cervix, and should have easily destroyed it, but her healing ability was working overtime, trying to keep it intact.

Eventually, the broomstick won and crushed the outermost cervix into pulp. It did not stop there, and pushed deeper into her womb. The rough and splintered handle continued to gouge out chunks of flesh from the walls around it - the labia, vagina, cervix and uterus.

When the broomstick reached the furthest wall of the uterus, it carried on pushing. The wall put up a greater fight than the cervix had. It was more muscular, and did not have a hole to begin with.
Brigit noticed that her bonds felt lighter, but her crotch was pushing and squeezing more fiercely. Then her entire body began to rise along with the broomstick. Invisible to her, the dome of her uterus, aided by healing magic, was refusing to be pierced by the broomstick, and was supporting most of her body weight now. However, the healing could not keep up with the strain and already her womb was stretched to an obscene length.

A weak cough that shook her body was the last straw and the uterus wall was split by the broomstick with an audible "rip". The witch's falling body shoved the end of the stick a few inches through the punctured organ, into the abdominal cavity.

In one swift movement, the broom withdrew completely from Brigit's struggling body, followed by a rain of blood and flayed flesh. All the blood and debris was being collected neatly in the porcelain tub. Within a quarter of an hour, her body had healed completely. Once again, her hymen and organs were intact. The broom started to piston upwards again.

The broom repeated its entire torture several times at different speeds, sometimes almost as slowly as the first time, sometimes spearing from the vagina to beyond the uterus in a flash, like a flying javelin. The broom handle became a little more splintered each time. Invariably, the witch would regain the virgin state of her body after each penetration.

The tub was filled after nearly seventy-two hours of torture.

/

Entry ##, Date ##-##-####

Today, I will summarize the past few entries and lay out some future plans.

As documented previously, magic really does recognize Brigit as a virgin every time she's fucked, and I have potentially unlimited blood to create control switches. The concept is simple - a spell is cast on the victim, another spell (the controller) is linked to it, use blood to anchor the controller spell onto a physical object, and voila. The victim's curse is now permanent, and whoever holds the object can activate it.

I say permanent, but actually the witch who cast the spell on the victim can dispel it - I've confirmed this using Brigit as a victim. It will be too much of a hassle to coerce her into dispelling the three spells on me, but I've neutralized the threat by grafting the controllers onto myself.

After today, I will start a book for manipulating Brigit. Each page can control a different spell cast on her. It will be more convenient to activate multiple spells in any combination, allowing more creative tortures. I can add more pages for newer spells, and if I run out of blood, it will be a simple matter to rape her again.

These are some spells that I will definitely use or learn to use:

1) Fertility/Contraception: set the probability of becoming pregnant from 0 to 100%.
2) Memory modification: block and restore any memories. I would be able to reverse her to any age in her past, or selectively block memories to toy with her confusion and emotions.
3) The headache, vibration and orgasm switch spells used on me
4) Lactation and letdown - also, I might be able to rework the milk transfer spell she used on me so that she grows suckable breasts on parts of her body.
5) Sensory deprivation or amplification, and maybe hallucination
6) Paralysis - either making muscles weak and limp, or tense and rigid
7) Appearance altering - rather than using illusions, I want to transfigure her actual body. It might hurt because the spell will have to continuously rearrange her body to fight against her healing, but that's fine. At the least, I want to be able to alter her face and hair any time.
8) Changing the speed of her healing - making her injuries heal faster or slower. Her healing burns through aphrodisiacs and drugs too quickly for things to get fun, so I want to slow it down sometimes. I also have some ideas for torturing her using over-powered, accelerated healing.

/

Brigit was lying on her back on a table, with her ankles tied together and wrists tied to her ankles. She tried rolling to her left and right but realizing that it was a fairly narrow table, she stopped, not wanting to fall off.

Her breasts ached and she was cold and hungry. There was a weird feeling at her crotch, inside her pee hole. She had no idea how she had gotten into this situation. The last thing she remembered was waiting at home for her friends to attend her 18th birthday party. Someone must have pranked her, but she wasn't finding this funny.

She could not see any lamps, yet the room was well lit. The ceiling and walls were covered from corner to corner with enormous mirrors, and she studied her nude reflection.

There were two clear suction cups on her nipples - since when did her breasts get that big? Come to think of it, they did feel a bit heavy. The cups led to two tubes, which combined to form a thicker tube that snaked towards her crotch. There, it split into two endings and entered her urethra and anus. Both of these endings were probably as thick as her thumbs. The entire apparatus, from her breasts to her nether region, was clear.

She shouted for help, but no one came. She squirmed around, but the strange tubes did not dislodge. The annoying ache in her breasts persisted. Wait, were her breasts bigger now? She studied the reflection and concluded that yes, they were bigger, and redder.

The ache got worse. In less than an hour, before her disbelieving eyes, her breasts grew with a tearing, bursting sensation, and turned from the gentle red to an angry puce. They were now heavy enough to make her breathing labored and large enough that when she lay on her back, either breast could dangle sideways and touch the table.

There was a sudden vibration inside her vagina and she felt herself becoming aroused, despite thinking that this entire situation was completely unsexy.

Feeling a prickle in her nipples, she watched the suction cups slowly fill with white liquid. It had to be milk, but there was no way she could be lactating! She did not think she was pregnant, and she definitely did not have a baby somewhere.

Milk slowly but steadily flowed down the tubes, as her unnatural arousal continued to build. Her mind was spinning and she was seriously horny, but an orgasm did not come. The milk reached the end of the tubes and trickled into her bladder and rectum. She shuddered. As they filled up, her rising arousal was accompanied by strong urges to urinate and defecate, but no amount of straining would empty her organs or push the tubes out.

Just as she thought her bladder had reached its limits, the most amazing orgasm of her life blitzed through her body. She writhed and arched in ecstasy, but the pain from her inner organs gripping against the unyielding milk soon brought her out of orgasm. Her arousal did not return, and only the massive urges to void her organs remained.

She thought this was the end of the prank; she was wrong. A never-ending amount of milk continued to flow down the tubes. Milk slowly inflated her colon, pushing past sphincters to invade her small intestines, liver and stomach. Her abdomen swelled up like a puffer fish, making her breaths shallow and ragged, and her bladder also bulged visibly.

Despite extreme nausea, she could not force herself to vomit; her impossibly stretched abdominal muscles could no longer contract, and she did not know that her stomach had been paralyzed to prevent vomiting. Throughout this whole process, she periodically got hit with those illogical orgasms.

She felt invisible ropes slide under her armpits and winch her into a sitting position. Her breathing was slightly relieved as her lungs were not exposed to the full weight of her distended belly. She thought the torture was over, but once again, she was wrong.

Unbeknownst to her, milk started to leak from her stomach into the esophagus, filling it from bottom up. When it reached her throat and teetered at the junction between her food pipe and wind pipe, a few warning drops of milk dripped down the larynx - her voice box. There was a reflexive urge to cough, but her bloated body could not muster the strength to cough.

It was the beginning of a whole new level of torture. Her lungs slowly filled with milk. Ironically, the milk had been created in the breasts just in front of the lungs, yet taken a long and winding path to arrive. Brigit drowned in her own secretions, and her vision swam, but she could not die or even black out.

After the lungs were devoid of air and filled to the brim, the milk continued its way up her throat and finally dribbled out her nose and lips.

Unseen, Clara smiled at a job well done and ended the session.

/

Clara switched off Brigit's healing ability. She conjured a fistful of maggots and placed them inside her ex-mistress' pussy. At her command, they drilled channels forward between her vagina and bladder, and backward between the vagina and rectum. She cauterized the bleeding and dismissed the maggots, before melting the anus shut. Brigit was comatose throughout this process, and later woke up unaware of the new tunnels between her pelvic organs, or her blocked back passage.

The amnesiac paced inside a cell. Three walls were made of brick, and the last was a single pane of thick Perspex. She could see a similar cell opposite hers, unoccupied. A few times, a faceless humanoid made of stone and dressed like a butler had pushed meager meals through a flap in the Perspex, which she had eaten ravenously. In the cell, there was a toilet and a pile of straw that she could sleep on.

She felt the urge to defecate and sat at the toilet. As she strained, she felt an odd warmth form in her vagina. Ignoring it, she bore down a few more times but the warmth spread and was joined by a sense of fullness. She needed to try harder. Taking a deep breath, she strained again and felt a lump fall out of her vagina. The unmistakable smell of shit made her look down and she was shocked to see shit streaks at her labia. She gingerly strained again and more chunks of feces fell out her slit. She was fearful and disgusted - there was definitely a connection, and she still had not passed anything out her anus.

Having limited options, she pinched her labial lips shut and strained as strongly as she could. Her lips threatened to part, but then a second feeling of fullness blossomed within her crotch. The urge to defecate faded, as her rectum was now empty. Confused, she ran a finger over her asshole and found that it was a shallow depression. There was no hole for her probing finger to enter. Her mind drew a blank - she could not figure out what the hell had gone wrong, and she was too shocked to respond to this situation.

It was later when she tried to pee and saw the color and particles in the stream that she realized what the second fullness truly meant - she had somehow emptied her bowels into her bladder as well.

After that, she refused to eat, deciding that it was the only way to avoid having to defecate. However, each time the golem returned to collect the plate and saw the untouched food, it would subdue and force-feed her. It placed a rock-hard finger between her teeth to keep her jaws open. It did not wince even when she bit down hard enough to crack her teeth. Its other hand pushed pieces of food into her mouth and down her throat, and her body would reflexively swallow. After the golem left, she tried using her fingers to gag herself and force herself to vomit, but failed. This time, Clara had not paralyzed her stomach, but simply spelled the sphincter between her stomach and esophagus to be tetanic - tightly shut - between meals.

Predictably, the food passed through her body and was transformed into fecal matter. She stubbornly refused to pass it out and fought the raging urges to do so.

Four days and many meals after Brigit's last defecation, the golem entered her cell and pushed her down on her back. He placed a foot on her aching belly and was unaffected when she beat at him and tried to push and kick him. He snapped a large bull-clip on her labial lips and the gasping woman struggled harder as her sensitive slit was pinched shut. He steadily stepped down with his heavy foot and she felt her feces enter and distend her vagina and bladder, giving her an urge to piss. The bull-clip was removed and fastened on her clit, and she screamed. The golem resumed his stepping and the furious woman watched helplessly as a smelly column of shit crawled out her pussy like toothpaste from a massive tube.

The next few meals, she was given contaminated food that caused diarrhea - she did not have the strength to hold it back and sometimes, it would dribble out her crotch as she got up to get to the toilet. When Brigit was shaking on the ground in the throes of a high fever, and did not bother to get up or fight the waste gushing out of her, Clara reluctantly ended the game and restarted her healing ability.

/

Clara played a few more games with the amnesiac after that. Each time, her body would heal itself back to a pristine state.

In one game, she immobilized Brigit, her legs tucked up and arms around her legs, with rope and inserted a tube through her nostril which led to her stomach. The trussed up immortal was put in a tight barrel. Water was pumped slowly into the feeding tube, and absorbed by her body. Forced to remove massive volumes of water, yet undamaged by overuse, her kidneys churned out over a gallon of urine each day and the barrel slowly filled up. The game ended when there was enough urine to submerge her nose and drown her.

/

Brigit looked around. She was in the dining room, and seemed to have been sleeping at the table. The last thing she remembered was getting annoyed at the talkative slave she had summoned and demonstrating the pain and orgasm spells. Had that been a dream? No, that could not be, but how did she end up in this room?

She tried to get up but failed. Her backside and thighs were firmly attached to the seat, and her back was stuck to the backrest. This was highly unusual. It was not that her clothes were glued to the chair. It was almost like she was magnetized to the chair, except obviously neither was magnetic.

Her arms were free. She noticed a book on the table, and there was a post-it note on it, with a cartoonish heart drawn on. She opened it and bent her neck to read it. It was a diary.

'... I got back all my memories today and I feel violated and outraged beyond words. My handwriting is all weird and shaky because I haven't written in a year, but I am going to keep a journal from now on. Today is probably the biggest turning point of my life...'

She read it from cover to cover with mounting confusion and rage.

'... And that's how my ex-mistress ended up stuck to a chair in the dining room. Bye! Toodles! Ciao!'

Closing the book with a frown, she looked up and was startled to see her slave standing in front of her, across the table. She recognized the skimpy dress as one of her own, and the hat was one she had put away for being too gaudy. The person under the clothes looked good. After the summoning, she had thought that the petite slave looked passably pretty and athletic. Now, there were subtle changes which elevated her to a perfect ten. A missing mole here, a tightened skinfold there, facial features that were shifted just a millimeter...

Regaining her bearings, the witch halted her observations. She recognized the changes because before locking her body with immortality and healing rituals, she had experimented extensively with spells to alter her features, and developed an eye for detail. However, she had more important things to do now.

Without warning, she snapped her fingers to light the slave on fire. Nothing happened. She snapped again with the same lack of results.

"You do know that I've drained all your magic except for the immortality and healing, and added it to my own magical reserves, right? I'm sure I wrote it down in the diary."

"You lie! Just yesterday I tore your virginity apart and made you my bitch. This must be an illusion, or some other mind-muddling spell, but those are easily countered. I miscalculated. You must have dabbled in some minor magic before I summoned you."

"Go on and counter it."

The captive woman recited whatever incantations she knew, but the scene remained, and not a mote of magic gathered at her fingertips.

Clara smirked and clapped twice before sashaying off. As fragmented memories trickled back and coalesced into a coherent form, Brigit realized that the diary's contents had been true, and that she had utterly lost the war.

/

The next day, Brigit was lying on a bed in her favorite dress, arms by her side. Her chest rose and fell. From afar, one might think she was sleeping. On closer inspection, her face was contorted in a snarl, and her arms and legs were stiff as boards.

"I think I shall have you die."

"I'm immortal. I will get my powers back and return this humiliation threefold!"

"I'd like to see you try. I'm going to keep you around. You are an excellent test subject: you won't be killed no matter how much I mess up, and you will always stay fresh. Any part of you can be a reusable sacrifice for rituals too."

"If you cannot kill me, then I won't die, you fool. You contradict yourself."

Clara waved her hand and a ring gag plugged her ex-mistress' mouth, cutting off her words. Drool began to gather and dribble.

"You misunderstand. You are worthless as a wife and mother, so I will neatly kill you off in the eyes of the law and the community, and then become the lady of this family. I've already decided how to so do.

"I will activate the twenty-two stimulation spells in your pussy and ass, but deny your orgasm.

"I will paralyze you from head to toe, including your heart and breathing muscles. Your lungs will burn and your head will swim from asphyxiation but you won't die. You will get horny even as the doctors see your unmoving eyes and declare you dead. You will get horny in your coffin through your funeral and when you are deep in your grave, hearing us throw the soil onto your coffin.

"Only after a few weeks will I retrieve you and grant you sweet relief.

"I will marry Emil and raise Darius as my own son, and we will be the happiest family in the world. When he is of age, Darius will be taught everything I know and more about sex, you will become his property. If he wants to use his oh-so-loving birth mother as a toy, then he can change your appearance any time and it will be like fucking a new virgin every day. If he wants you as a breeding sow, then you can bear him fifty cute babies in the next fifty years.

"You get to breastfeed all of them, and all your descendants. Just wait till I learn how to make you sprout a full dozen udders like an overgrown pig. Your perfect supermodel body will be a family heirloom, and we don't even need to consider you as a living thing, because we can do all sorts of dangerous and disfiguring things and you won't die.

"Long ago, you said your aphrodisiacs were a gift to let me enjoy my servitude. To keep things fair, you will be granted a boon as well.

"I will learn how to expand your healing so that it can repair your mind too. You broke me in one year, but I will make sure you never break or forget for long. You will remember every second of your miserable life. Every full moon, your mind will be healed to complete sanity, even if you were a drooling, babbling wreck or a vegetable. Who knows, maybe you'll get stronger each month and we can make a game out of finding better ways to crack you apart.

"I think we will be having a splendid relationship. How does champagne sound?"

With deliberate slowness and sensuality, Mistress Clara took off her panties and squatted over her slave's face.

// END

witch   and   slave   the  

Apr 20, 2018 in bdsm

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