Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex. ***** Down memory lane there was a sweet princess called Tristy and today was her 18th birthday. The kingdom was joyous and a feast was in place to celebrate the princess's entrance into adulthood. Such as tradition, the entire kingdom was invited to give a gift to the princess i...
They say that gold is power, but "they" are mostly male, and thus idiots. On the day she decided to stop living on goodwill and bland virtue, instead using her power for its hell-intended purpose, the witch did not begin dabbling in alchemy. After all, what do men pay gold for? Surely that's more powerful. So, she planted a garden. An innocent, beautiful g...
Meghan looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her Halloween costume looked great. Being a huge Star Wars fan she had decided to dress up as a Twi`lekk smuggler. The costume consisted of tight fitting black pants and knee high boots of the same colour. A crimson shirt fell down to her upper thighs. A belt held her blaster pistol and pouches for equipment. He...
It was well known in Hidden Valley, California, that the owner of a certain New-Age bookstore was also a witch. There were witches in Hidden Valley, of course. Everyone knew about the annual Halloween rites up at Lake Daniels, but Madama Shelikova seemed to be something else. The Wicca Coven did not like her, although they liked her store. Her magic was old...
I levitated her down through the skylight of my roof, lowering her lightly onto my dark chocolate colored couch. It was very dim here, in my lair. A one room, open plan warehouse loft, bathroom downstairs, not that I needed it but I had human friends... sometimes. I conjured a tiny, bright ball of green witch-fire as I landed lightly, feet first on the light...
-Salem, Massachusetts, autumn 1691- --Author's note: this story was inspired by my recent research into the Salem witch trials of 1692, and one author's observation of the sexual undertones in the accounts of witchcraft: "pricking", arched backs, moaning, etc. So I decided to spin this concept into an erotic story of women-loving-women. I plan to write seve...
Authors note: Thanks to the widow for the edit. Lover's Games I sniffled as I stood in the corner, my pink thong at my knees in a tangled untidy rope. I was feeling most sorry for myself, and my bottom throbbed, burned, and seemed to grow bigger every second I stood there. Although it could have been worse. I could have been seated in the corner. I though...
When the Devil Dykes rolled into town, folks scooted out of the way. The people of this tiny one-blink town gave up tables and booths at the local diner and bars. They hoped, and some prayed, they had little or no contact with the biker gang. More than often, their hopes and prayers were all in vane. The motorcycles roared into Fountain Springs every summe...
Chapter 3 – Gracie's Renaissance The Thanksgiving holiday is upon us, and I've been so busy with school and other interests that I hardly noticed the time go by. I called Mom to tell her that my friend, Dianne, would be bringing me home late Wednesday night, but she didn't have to wait up for us. I knew she would anyway. Dianne's parents lived about 45 minu...
My name is Shamika Brown. I'm a six-foot-tall, square Black woman living in the city of Buffalo, New York. I run a shelter for immigrants and refugees known as the House of Life. I wear glasses, I'm somewhat curvy, with big tits and a big round ass. I also wear glasses. I'm in my forties and still not married because nobody can stand having me around. I'm yo...