of the Last Golden Witch - Ch. 2: The Witch's Benefactors

The world was like frosted glass, a window through which a performance was observed.

Three witches sat around a tea party table, watching the erotic debauchery that had been called a game.

The first was ANGE-Beatrice herself, appearing in this layer with the white, elegant and feathered dress she'd once properly worn as the Witch of Resurrection. Instead of the tea all other witches seemed to favor, she was holding the neck of a wine bottle just as she had been in her tale, slouching in her chair and looking drunk off her ass. Still, she watched the other two witches expectantly, waiting for their opinions.

The second, the Witch of Miracles, Bernkastel, was silent. She held a nearly untouched saucer and teacup in perfectly still hands. Her hair, long, dark and purple, framed her pale-skinned face and humorless expression. Ordinarily, her mood was hard to read, but after seeing that display, her teeth were barely visible in a slight grimace.

The third, the Witch of Certainty, Lambdadelta, was equally quiet, although less still. Her mouth was still agape, yet stuffed with popcorn. She turned her blonde head with its pink cap towards Ange, then Bern, then back to Ange. Then, she began banging on the table with one black-gloved fist and nearly **** on her food. She didn't stop banging as she offered her feedback, heedless of the danger of **** on the popcorn she was struggling to swallow. "Ahahahahahaha!! I always wondered what the power of a non-violent witch would look like! So this is it, huh?! It's funnier than the censored lines in the PG-13 cut of that one movie! And, seriously, Ange? I know I don't have room to talk about being messed up, but this is like... your family, right? The aunt who raised you? And yet, look at the eroticism! I think it's got potential, don't you, Bern?"

Bernkastel put the saucer down as if she didn't want to touch it. "... Ange, I know you don't have a lot of training in this. But, when it comes to witches, even when we're playing around, there's a certain expectation of... dignity. Class. There are plenty of examples of how humans can be toyed with in a way that's more refined. This type of entertainment is for your own enjoyment, right? It's not the kind of entertainment you show to other people." She gave Ange a dangerous smile. "I'm trying to say that this is truly embarrassing for me as your sponsor. What are we supposed to gain from watching this?"

Ange continued to watch the other two with a dull expression. Whether their smiles were meant to be laughing with her or laughing at her, she wasn't laughing at all. She blinked slowly, then repeated Bern's word as if confused. "'Gain?' You two? Oh, sorry... I think you're misunderstanding. I didn't call you two here to give you anything. I also have no intention of being a pawn in anyone's game. I called you here because it's my birthday. I thought you two might have gifts for me... And, if that isn't what you had in mind, I thought I'd share the type of game I have in mind for you." Leaning forward with an eerie smile and a mad glint in her eyes, she faced the two witches with fearlessness that surely came from the drink. "This is a game where you try to make me forget how you used my family and me as pieces for your twisted entertainment, and there are two ways to win." She leaned back, holding up one finger. "First, you can apologize. Easy enough. If either of your fat egos allows that, I'll probably be surprised enough to forgive you right away."

Lambda gave her another big laugh, then turned her head to Bernkastel.

In contrast, the sour-faced witch was keeping her eyes locked on Ange. She wasn't taking it as a joke, but she eventually laughed too. She kicked her chair back carelessly as she rose... and rose, and rose, until she was floating in the air, her own head just slightly above Ange's, and glaring down with pity. "My, my... It's been over a year since we last saw each other, hasn't it? I'm glad you've managed to move on so thoroughly... You've managed to forget everything about our roles in that game. Wasn't I an ally of the humans?"

"Yeah!" Lambda agreed, looking more offended now than concerned. "And Ange, I was totally buddy-buddy with you and your brother! Don't tell me you forgot my big fight scene?!"

"More importantly..." Bern added, snapping one finger with a noise that reverberated through the tea room. "... You forgot what real witches are capable of." In response to her signal, a number of pairs of green, glinting eyes appeared in the darkness behind her. It wasn't a sea or an army, but Ange knew first hand how that could change in an instant.

Ange ignored the threat, focusing on Lambda instead. "Somehow, all I can remember is being tortured and turned to scraps, along with a lot of laughter at my expense. Not exactly fair. Which brings me to the second way you two can win the game: I'll have you two entertain me." With a smirk of her own, the young woman rose from her own chair, kicked it to the floor behind her, and casually tossed her wine bottle with a crash behind her. "Once I'm crying from laughter, maybe I'll change my mind about you two clowns."

Both of the "clowns" recognized the challenge for what it was and assumed their own offensive postures. With no time to make it as flashy as she would have liked, Lambda began casually swirling her hand in the air, causing faint sparkles that brightened and crystallized into sugary sweets dancing above her fingertips. "Oh, Ange... Poor, poor Ange! Well, I don't know what brought on this temper tantrum, but look! I brought some gifts after all! Don't pig out, okay? Just one of these will fill you up quick...!"

"Hold it, Lambda," Bern told her, extending her own hand and sharp nails. "I'm her sponsor. If she's feeling scrappy, I'll help her work out her energy... And I'd like to do it while there's still a scrap of her left for me to play with."

"You snooze, you lose!" With a cackle that showed her teeth, Lambda launched her candies at their new plaything, just moments before Bern could unleash her servants.

Ange watched the oncoming attacks. Somewhere, she'd heard that each of these cats was a familiar, a magician of unfathomable power in its own world yet subjugated to Bern by a miracle. Each of those candies was like a star ready to go supernova and obliterate Lambda's prey with certainty.

The Witch of Revival yawned.

"You two really like your play-fights, don't you? I already told you, I'm not giving you anything." Before the attacks could reach her, the lights in the tea room suddenly went out.

No, it wasn't dark. It was as if, for a moment, nothing existed.

Then, one after another, parts of the scene popped back into existence. First, Ange, with her wine bottle in hand once more. Second, her two opponents, frozen in the midst of mad laughter as they prepared to tear apart a lesser witch to stave off their own boredom. Next, the scene...

"No, I wanted these two to greet and entertain my guests. They're always enjoying themselves in a private tea room or some high balcony... Tonight, let's do something different."

Ange summoned the scenery: not the tea room where they'd just been, but the awning just outside the front door of the Ushiromiya family mansion. She was standing in the shadow of the balcony, while the two witches were in the rain. Yet, even the rain around them was frozen, each drop waiting for permission from the witch that ruled it.

"Now, I remember there being a bunch of candies and cats flying through the air... But which way?" With another wave of her bottle in the air and a tipsy smile, Ange caused every projectile to reappear... Only, now, she was looking at the colorful comet trails and kitty tails. "That looks right. And thus, after a little hiccup..." the drunk witch paused for an actual hiccup, then wiped her lips, "... The world is restored."

Suddenly, the storm outside the mansion was roaring again. To Ange's amusement, neither Bern nor Lambda quite had time to wipe the cruel laughs off their own faces before the candies Lambda had launched disappeared into their wide-open mouths.

Needless to say, dodging the flying felines was also out of the question. However, while Bern had probably intended for those cats to turn their target into mincemeat, not even a drop of blood was spilled as the litter sailed harmlessly by. Each cat landed feet-first on the stones, claws still out, and dashed off to find shelter from the rain.

Then, Ange was left to admire her handiwork.

The first reaction for both witches was to begin coughing and hacking: neither was ****, but since both of them were expecting the candy to be explosive, they were probably **** to expunge it if that was still possible. So concerned were the two witches with that, neither noticed as their fine, fashionable garments began to slink off of them in soggy ribbons, torn in flashes of claws that had passed moments ago. From the shoulders to the knees, nothing remained hanging on either witch, meaning both slender bodies were bare and becoming slick in the rain. Soon, their silk stockings would be as soaked-through as the pure white undergarments lying in the piles around their ankles.

"What a sorry sight," Ange remarked, setting down her bottle and approaching the two as if she was going to give them slaps on the back to clear their windpipes. Instead, she put her hands between their shoulder blades and pressed there, ushering them under the canopy... Then, further, through the main doors of the mansion. She shoved them in roughly and followed them in, shutting the door behind her. She almost shook herself off; then, she remembered that, as a true witch, she hadn't let a single drop touch her.

Bern and Lambda, on the other hand, were soaked. Bern's ribboned cat tail could be seen dragging limply behind her, and she had actually hunched to all fours and began shaking herself off like an offended animal. Lambda, on the other hand, was finally recovering herself. "Okay, so we're not dead, and we're butt naked. What gives, Ange? Where is this going?"

"This is your whole ****?" Bern hissed, finally rising. She used her hands to cover her private parts and backed her bare butt up to the wall behind her. "Lambda and I have done far more imaginative and disgusting things to each other as fun pranks. Needless to say, I don't care about... Hghk...! About being naked in front of your dead family, so have you got any more... c-cards...?"

Before she could speak another word, the Witch of Miracles, who was used to being treated as a dignified peer or as a god everywhere she traveled, let out a helpless burp.

In spite of her own predicament, Lambda giggled. "Geez, Bern! Way to kill the mystery mood! I almo-o-host a-achoo!!" Before she could stop herself, the Witch of Certainty suddenly let out a roaring sneeze.

Ange watched the two suffering with their arms crossed. The other witches were unable to get a word, a threat, or even a curse out before another fit of burping and sneezing overcame them. "Fitting for fools who gorge themselves on candy while standing naked in the rain, I'd say." She stifled a burp of her own, a natural response to heavy drinking and Bern's own contagious fit. "I'll just take another second burning this memory of you two into my brain. Actually... could this be related to that candy you ate earlier? Oh no. I didn't plan for you to actually explode. What a shame. Should I say "<see you in hell?>"

Lambda had given up dignity to take off her hat and use it to desperately blow her nose, which was now dripping like a faucet. "Th-there's gotta be- h-h-ch! - Some antidote, right?! I mean, my candy doesn't have one, but you're a- Ghk! G-g-good girl, right?!"

"Maybe I have it. Maybe there's a magic word you could use?"

Bern removed her hands from her mouth to try and give it. "... B-bite m- buuuuuurp!" She was interrupted once more.

"What Bern means is, uh, p-please?"

Ange smiled, then reached into her pockets. "Good girl. Well, you know what they say is the best medicine..."

Both witches eagerly approached Ange's outstretched hands, in spite of any misgivings they might have had. Any plans they might have had about relief or what they'd do to the naive Ange were blown away by what they found themselves holding, however. Each of them had received a round rubber ball: powder blue for Bern and bright orange for Lambda.

Taking advantage of their stunned confusion, Ange immediately used her own free hands to grab their occupied ones, slapping them to their own noses with a loud SMACK! and a surprising HONK!

For a moment, both witches were comically stunned, stumbling around with their new round noses, seeing stars and muttering unintelligible nonsense. While they were busy with this, Ange, summoned her staff upside down and, not seeming to care, began twirling the wrong end to summon another wave of familiars. "Come, my magic butterflies that I can use to do whatever I want. Help these two clowns remember what forms they should have... After all, with no laughter, there's no cure. If you want to stay warm and healthy in this mansion, you're going to have to work... Your job will be to entertain me."

The words were only for her own benefit, as her two hapless victims were still regaining their senses. As the butterflies began to disperse, neither Bern nor Lambda were feeling at all well. In fact, both of them were feeling a little funny. The two of them were beginning to realize they had been in some way changed, but neither had a mirror to tell how. Instead, they had to get a rough approximation by looking at the ridiculous way the other had been transformed.

Bern saw that the ordinarily pop-cute Lambda was barely recognizable, aside from her blonde hair, which had been pulled and tied back into two micro-pigtails. Her shocked brown eyes peered out from a thick layer of white face paint, which seemed to actually be full-body paint. Her bulbous orange nose was the central ornament to a painted on black eye, pairing strangely with heavy blush and makeup. Her teeth, visible past her slack jaw, could be seen to be colored yellow, with a couple painted black to give the impression they were missing. A large orange cowboy hat, a novelty prop made of foam, was perched atop her head. A star-shaped orange collar with bells at each flap covered a rodeo shirt, or the approximation of one, made of multiple layers of pastel-colored crepe paper. Her gloves were leather, like cowhide, but with long, colorful streamers along the length. Most notably, she was wearing over-the shoulder buckled suspenders supporting faded pink denim jeans that parachuted out at the waist, covered with all kinds of striped and polka dotted patches. They were clearly way too big for her skinny bottom half, making her white-painted belly and even a peek of naturally blonde pubic hair visible, as she appeared to have no underwear beneath them. The baggy legs pooled over a pair of too-large cowboy boots with bells in the place of spurs.

As for Bern herself, her hairdo had undergone a more dramatic transformation, curled at every end and covered by a two-toned blue-and-white belled jester cap. She had white makeup like Lambda's, but in a different clown style, including a yellow star over one eye and very full blue paint on the upper and lower lips. She had a more classic but no less preposterous clown outfit, an oversized, full-body, ruffle-collared baggy affair, half white and half powder blue with stars patterned all over it and huge, fluffy puffballs in the placement of buttons. For whatever, reason, it hung baggy from her thin shoulders, nearly low enough so the peaks of her breasts would be exposed, and there was no sign of brastraps for her, either. She had oversized yellow rubber gloves and huge, floppy shoes with pointed tips. Overall, it was an outfit big enough to dwarf her slender frame.

Ange watched the two witches watching one another, holding her hand to her chin like an artist admiring her craft. "Oh, right. Bern, think fast."

Before Bern could do any such thing, Ange reached down to scoop up a cat that had been wandering by. She carelessly chucked it straight at Bern's face.

With an automatic reaction, Bern caught this cat and began juggling it in an easy, steady rhythm, one that continued when Ange threw a second cat. The unamused witch continued juggling the cats in a circle high over her head without looking, as if her hands were working automatically.

"I think we're close," Ange noted, nodding with approval. "There's just one thing left before we have you start greeting guests and showing off your tricks. Do you two have anything you want to say to me?"

The two looked at each other (Bern still juggling all the while). Then, they looked back at Ange with the expected fury of proud witches in their eyes. Then, they both opened their mouths:

"Bruuuuuuuuuuuuuuppp," Bernkastel's belch roared. Her frustrated eyes conveyed she obviously wanted to move her hands to cover it, but couldn't make a move to do so.

"Haaaaa-haaaaaaaaa-" Lambda began to sneeze, managing to get her gloves in front of her face, although there was no telling if she'd keep her new nose.

Both of them managed to suppress their unwanted reactions by shutting their mouths with effort and puffing up their cheeks. The result, however, was another unexpected prank on Ange's part.

With the burp that had haunted her thoat now stuck there, Bernkastel was **** to somehow swallow it. To her horror, all of the air she'd been expelling found its way back to her chest. Somehow, her previously small but perky breasts began to balloon out, filling out to fill up the front of her clown suit with a shoulder-baring cut not unlike Beatrice's own dress. They expanded with a helium-like hiss. Before long, the formerly roomy outfit was well-occupied. Her juggling technique took on a new dimension: there wasn't room to maintain the same diameter of juggling circle with her big honkers now taking up the space her hands ought to, so she established a new rhythm of slapping her cartoonishly bouncy chest from one side to the other, allowing the cats to bounce in an alternating pattern. Her murderous, fanged glare was the only thing still identifying her as Bernkastel, and it was buried under several layers of makeup and impossible motion.

Lambda, on the other hand, caught her sneeze in her gloves. The backed-up sneeze had an impossible effect on her body, as well. First, her formerly short pigtails shot out with a noise like a party popper, extending into rainbow-colored braids and showering candy from nowhere, most of which fell in her pants. Secondly, and predictably, her formerly too-roomy outfit was filled out in a fashion similar to Bernkastel's. Namely, with an impossible, comical "bwoomph!", her hips and behind suddenly jiggled out and became thick, her legs widening slightly to be able to support them. As it happened, the shape of the pants still meant they weren't totally fit, but between all of the junk and all of the goodies, there was far less spare room. The bottom-heavy witch, who took pride in her looks, began stomping in circles as if trying to figure out what was attached to her backside (not realizing it was, in fact, her backside). On the other hand, it might have been a broomstick with a goofy plush horse head at the end which was wedged between her thick, fat buttcheeks. Every movement accomplished a strange, crunchy combination of clapping cheeks and shifting candy.

This time, once Lambda stopped dancing around, neither of them tried to speak. If they tried, who knew what kind of sound they might make or transformation they might suffer? The two tried to keep quiet, Bernkastel glaring daggers and Lambdadelta shaking with anger.

Ange grinned at her creations. "Good. You figured it out. I don't want either of you two saying anything that isn't on a script I prepared. Speaking of which, I think our guests should be arriving very shortly. Why don't you two get ready to entertain them?"