#178) Witchy Woman

Do you think the redhaired girl in the photo is cute? I did, too. I guess I should correctly say that we found her cute, because it was both me and my boyfriend, Jay. See, we were feeling cooped-up at home (I mean, Jeez, we’ve been there together for about two years!), so I suggested that we go out to a bar and watch a Final Four game there over a few brews. Well, apparently a lot of other people had the same thought because when we got there, the only places to sit were on stools at the bar. We did, and I happened to sit next to the cute redhead in the photo, Mary. Therefore, Jay got to see the game with like-minded fans, and I got to also have conversation with what-seemed-like a nice girl.
If you would have asked me beforehand what I expected to share with Mary, I wouldn’t have been able to say exactly. I knew that Mary looked younger than me. I was ready to start exploring what we might share as common interests by asking if she had any pets. I wasn’t ready for what she said first.
“I’m a witch. If you have any trouble with that, you ought to speak up now.”
“No, to each her own, I always say,” I said somewhat taken-aback. Then after too long a pause, I added, “Are you sure you’re a witch?”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“I’ve always been drawn to and feel gifted in the dark side, spirits, and spells, and…”
“And I thought I was dark because I love to be spanked!” I chortled.
“You love to be spanked? Hard?”
“The harder the better,” I confided, and we were off on a conversational rollercoaster. Mary asked about my fetish and I asked about hers.
“Actually, I’m exploring being a succubus,” she said brightly.
“What’s that?” I inquired, silently wondering if it was related to a sex act.
She smiled and answered, “Kind of a female demon who uses her powers to have intercourse with a man while he sleeps. He doesn’t know anything about it before, doesn’t consent, usually barely remembers anything afterward. Sounds like fun, doesn’t it?”
I smiled and nodded, but made a mental note to watch out for Jay.
Mary reciprocated interest in me by asking, “Did you like being spanked as a child?”
“No,” I answered, “I wasn’t spanked much as a kid, but dreaded it from my mother. At the same time, I had fantasies of being spanked by a tall, dark, handsome man. Maybe it tied in with never knowing my dad. Then, when in college, I discovered that l I liked it even more in reality than in my dreams…”
“I never knew my father either,” Mary volunteered.
“Do you belong to a coven?”
“No, I don’t know any other witches in-person, but I communicate with some online.
“That’s similar to me with other spankos,” I added.
“Do you just like spankings, or other, heavier stuff, too?”
“Spankings were kind of my gateway drug. After experiencing them, I wanted to explore other impact play, like with paddles and straps and canes and…”
Mary giggled along with me at my long list of interests. She put her hand on mine on the bar. I recognized it as a small overture, a gesture of intimacy. I didn’t pull my hand away, Mary noticed this, and her eyes went from our hands, up my body slowly, and came to rest gazing back into my eyes. If we would’ve been alone, I would’ve leaned in to kiss her. In this noisy public forum, we just shared the moment in silent communion, and our conversation delved down into a deeper level.
“When you’re punished, say with a cane, are you left marked and bleeding?” she asked with a breathless quality in her voice.
“That’s a really good question,” I started, then decided to trust and share with this intriguing girl. “I love to be marked, whether with bruises or welts, but I don’t like having the skin broken. That’s kind of a hard limit for me. But every submissive is different.”
“Interesting!” Mary said. “And it’s both painful and pleasurable at the same time for you?”
“Exactly! I hate the pain, but it gets me high. Literally, these hormones, endorphins, are released during hard punishment, and you drift into this lofty realm, they call it a sub-space.”
“Fascinating,” Mary uttered, really sounding like she meant it, “I’d love to see that…”
And the seed was planted in my mind. I watered it with more alcohol. It took deeper root as we talked about less poignant topics. I glanced over at the television screen to see that North Carolina had beaten Duke. Jay came out of his trance-like state and looked over at me for the first time in hours.
“Mary, this is my boyfriend, Jay. Jay, Mary,” I made introductions.
They smiled and shared an awkward handshake.
“Mary just said something to me that I can’t get out of my mind, Jay. We’ve been talking, sharing, really getting to know one another. She said that she’d really love to see you discipline me, push my limits…” And I just smiled, and let Mary’s cuteness do the rest of the work. She looked so succulent at that moment, to both me and to Jay. That word, succulent, can mean “juicy or full of sap” and Mary did. She looked like our conversation had turned her on, that she was perched on that barstool in wet panties. The word can also be defined as “interesting and absorbing.” That’s how I’d typify our entire conversation. I could’ve added for Jay’s benefit that Mary was as much a witch as I was a sub, that it was a part of our DNA, but I didn’t. For some reason, I kept her succubus comment to myself. I looked at Jay, we both looked back at the sweetly smiling Mary. It was clear that we were succumbing to her considerable charms, were yielding to her over-powering forces, submitting to an overwhelming desire to share more with her.
“I’m something of a thrill-seeker,” Mary confided to both of us. “I find your lifestyle thrilling… would like to know more…”
Remember how I said that we felt “cooped-up” at home and needed to get out. We were both conscious of that feeling invading our sex life together. It was still spicy, but a little stale, a bit staid. We needed an injection of enthusiasm, and Mary seemed to offer that. I saw the look of affirmation in Jay’s eyes.
“Okay, Mary, I have to discuss some ground rules. Impact play is sex for us. So we’re inviting you to watch something really special, almost sacred to us. And we’re inviting you just to watch tonight. Let’s take baby steps. One at a time. We may evolve into something more, but for now, that’s it. Does that still sound interesting to you?”
Mary let the hand that had been resting on mine most of the evening grip mine. This wasn’t a feeble handshake, it was a bond, symbolic of more. I gave Mary our address and directions. By the time she rang our doorbell, I was already stripping off my clothes. Mary took my hands in hers, pulled me close, and kissed me sweetly.
“I’m glad you’re here!” I honestly shared.
“Me, too!” As we walked hand-in-hand to my boudoir, she added, “I’m feeling overdressed and suddenly sweaty; mind if I take off a few clothes?”
I shook my head no as I smiled broadly. Mary shrugged off her jacket and blouse. She kept the ribbed knit short skirt on across what looked to be an ass of real substance, but my eyes were drawn to her perky titties enclosed in a light blue bikini bra with little daisies printed all over it. Mary looked as cute as could be; I couldn’t help wondering if her lovely, silken, straight red hair was matched on her pussy, wondering if I’d get to see…
Jay was bare-chested in our bedroom. I thought he looked hunky as all hell.
“Why don’t you sit there,” Jay said to Mary, gesturing to the lone chair. “I’m going to take Jeanie over my knee on the bed. She’s due a maintenance spanking.” He’d just said in one minute more to her than he had in our shared hours in the bar. Then he turned to me and added, “On the bare.” I pushed my one remaining piece of clothing down and those turquoise panties hit the floor. I stepped out of them and toward my lover on the bed’s edge.
“Could I see your bottom first?” Mary piped-up. I detoured over to her. “Your bottom isn’t marked in the least,” she admired, touching me there with trembling fingers.
I draped myself over my Top’s lap. He didn’t take it easy on me, really laying into me right from the start. I realized that Jay was showing-off for Mary by spanking me extra hard, with the punishment raining down faster than usual as well. I gave over to my feelings and let the tears flow. I couldn’t blame my lover, I was showing-off in my own way, too. He stopped to rub for a moment, I struggled to compose myself.
“Now feel my butt, Mary.” She got up from the chair and did so. Her caress was much more soothing, I guess that’s a woman’s touch. “With a warm-up like Jay is administering, I won’t bruise as heavily if he follows-up with heavier punishment…”
Mary sat back down, I arched up to present my backside. Jay gave me a second set, just as hard, if not harder, as the first. I felt myself swimming down into my sub-space depths.
I felt Jay putting me back on my feet, then he stood, and embraced me warmly.
He whispered in my ear, “I’d love to give you a taste of the cane. I think Mary would love it, too.” I nodded and kissed him, actually looking forward to what was in-store.
Jay said, “Mary, I’m going to cane Jeanie now. It’s one of the heaviest punishments. Watch how well she takes it…”
I bent over at the waist deeply and rested my forearms on the mattress. I didn’t normally give myself a stabilizing base like the bed, but didn’t know if this, like the spanking, might be more than anticipated due to our observer. I knew that from where Mary sat, she had a good look at all my charms. Jay returned from the closet with a thin cane, which he cut through the air several times. The swishing sound made all the little hairs on my body stand on end. Through the space between my parted legs, I could see Mary watching with rapt attention, her right hand between her parted legs. I wanted to give her a good show.
“I’ve been a bad girl, Sir. I deserve a good caning. Thank you for giving it to me.”
“Thank me when your caning is over with, I’ll believe it better then,” Jay answered, playing his part to the hilt. He took aim.
Whppt! CRACK! “Ow! Fuck! …One, Sir, may I have another?”
I felt the white hot welt rise on the surface of my once-smooth backside, then felt the infernal tapping of Jay taking aim again. He gave me a total of six stripes, nice and parallel, tightly grouped right across the lower half of my cheekiness. They left me sobbing and drained and high on hormones and deep in my sub-space. Mary asked to feel my bottom. We both nod. Mary approached me reverentially, knelt behind me, lightly touched and softly kissed my welts. I was mesmerized by her magical touch. I wanted her. Then she surprised us both.
“Like I said, I’m a thrill-seeker. I am absolutely fascinated with what you’ve shown me! I desperately want to see, feel what it’s like. Will you cane me, please?”
I stood up and cupped her head in my hands along her jawline. “That’s called a cold whipping, without the warm-up spanking. It’ll hurt all the more…”
“That’s okay, I need to know… I need to feel what it’s like…” As if the matter had been decided, Mary hiked her skirt up to above her waist, stood where I’d been, bent over and presented her bared bum. Mary’s face was lightly freckled, but her bottom had not been exposed to a single ray of sunlight. It was the most perfect pink and cool to the touch. (I know, I caressed her there as I sat inches away on the bed’s edge.
“We’ll play the numbers game,” Jay said. “I’ll give you a cane stripe equal to those I administered across Jeanie. It won’t break the skin, but it will hurt. We’ll call that a five, in the middle of a severity spectrum. If you want another one, ask for a number, six for a bit harder, four for lighter, and so on. Sound good?”
“Sounds great!” Mary enthused, straightening her legs, bending deeply, presenting her backside forthrightly.
I sat in the middle of the bed and put my hands on hers for moral support. She looked me in the eye, and I thought that she was the most beguiling beauty I’d ever seen. Jay gave her a cane lick. Mary gasped and stiffened, her pretty eyes getting large.
“That was a five,” Jay pronounced. “Do you want another?”
Mary nodded, and when she got her voice to work she said, “Let me feel a seven…”
“Even if that breaks the skin?” he returned, ever the considerate Top.
“I want it to…” she sighed and stuck her ass out and looked imploringly into my eyes.
Whppt! CRACK! Mary grimaced, tears shimmered in her eyes. “I’ve been a bad girl,” she said mimicking me. “I need to feel a ten…”
Whtttp[! CRACK! “Thank you, Sir! Another ten stripe, please, Sir…”
Mary said that over and over again. Her eyes overbrimmed with tears, but her voice was clear, unbroken, adamant in its request for more. She took eight cane stripes at that ten level. Maybe it was her tears, but her eyes seemed to take on a different hue, those baby blue irises seemed to glow from within. I kept a silent count in my head, amazed at Mary’s endurance, tolerance for pain, capacity for “thrills.”
After the eighth hard one was flashed across her backside, Mary stood up straight. “Thank you, Sir, I’ll always remember this!”
I scurried around to inspect her bum. The marks were vivid, bleeding, clearly painful. I couldn’t believe that she’d asked for a whipping of that magnitude as a first-timer. “Let me get you a cold washcloth,” I empathized.
“I’ll go with you,” Mary whispered. She waked slowly and held her skirt up so that it wouldn’t rub those painful stripes.
Once behind the closed bathroom door, Mary looked at her marks in the mirror.
“Please get yours and my cell phones; I want to have pictures to document this!” she asked, and I ran to obey. As I did so, I thought to myself, why are you hurrying? Those marks are going to burn there for a week! She just took a much harder caning than I ever have! As I returned, I saw Jay sitting on our bed, and I recognized all the signs of Dom-drop.
“Are you okay, lover?” I solicited.
“Is she okay?” Jay asked without answering.
“Yes. She asked for each stripe. You gave her what she wanted.” I kissed him. “We’ll be out in a minute.” And I went back into the bathroom.
Mary looked radiant. Her butt was savaged, but her face was gorgeous, as clear-eyed as if she just woke up instead of crying profusely. I ran cold water in the sink and stuck my washcloth under the stream.
“Take pictures first! I want to remember this always.”
So instead of attending to bloody welts, I stood back and clicked off lots of shots. Through my phone’s lens, I fell for her all over again, just as in the bar. I wanted to kiss her smile. I wanted to kiss her punished bum. I wanted to spend the night touching and teasing, fingering and frolicking, licking her intimately while Jay fucked me. And then one of the first things Mary had said came back to me. I’d laughed-off her proclamations of witchery, now I was not so sure. Without knowing her well at all, I’d brought this vixen home to my bedroom, introduced her to how I play with my lover. And in response, she’d one-upped me at my own game. Mary had taken with aplomb a thrashing that would have had me moaning on the floor and demanding attention from my Top.
“You know what?” Mary confided sotto voce just after I took this last photo that’s featured here. “You getting a spanking got me aroused, and the caning just made it worse!”
I fought against the way my head was swimming.
“I suddenly feel sick!” I replied. “I’m sorry, but could you please leave? We’ll call you sometime soon…”
Looking crestfallen, Mary returned, “I was hoping…”
“I was, too, but I think I’m coming down with something and don’t want you to catch it…” I was holding her by the forearm, literally escorting her out of the bathroom. I didn’t say anything to Jay. I snagged her jacket and blouse from off the stairway’s handrail where she’d dropped them, and kept walking her to the door.
“We’ll call you. Sorry about this. See you soon,” I blabbered like a fool, all the while stiff-arming her like a club bouncer. I closed and locked the front door, then sprinted upstairs to my lover.
“That was… interesting…” Jay said, looking confused.
“You have no idea,” I replied. “Listen, I’d like to open up our relationship for the spark it’d engender, but we have to do so more carefully than I just did! Mary was a mistake.” I saw the look in Jay’s eyes, and came back quickly with, “Pretty, but a mistake! You have no idea what she shared with me…”
“I’d prefer not to say. Let me just say that I’m going to be waking you up periodically all night, just to make sure you’re okay. If you start to dream about making love with Mary, try your hardest to wake yourself up. Okay?”
Jay looked more confused than ever, but that was nothing new. He’d never know how close we came to succumbing to a succulent succubus. But I know. And if I ever start to forget, I’m keeping Mary’s picture (like the one above) on my phone to remind me that there are real witches out there. And not like in “Harry Potter,” more like in “Macbeth.”

6 responses to “#178) Witchy Woman”

  1. If she was a real witch she wouldn’t be limited by a lack of physical presence. Nevertheless ’twas an engaging story, and it wasn’t clear witch way it would end. Thought there could be a followup episode so maybe it hasn’t ended…

    Liked by 1 person

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