Reach for your purse — try to grab one of your remaining condoms

Inside Second House (Witch's House), Breedmore Lane, at 9:57 PM on Friday October 31, 2024.

My hand shoots toward the edge of the cauldron where my purse sits on the floor — I can see it, the little black clutch with two condoms inside, my only protection for the rest of the night. My fingers stretch, straining against the viscous enchanted water that clings to my arm like warm tar, and for one desperate second I think I might reach it—

A thick, dark tendril whips past my face and snatches the purse from the floor. Darius's appendage — slick, glistening, easily as thick as two fingers — curls around the clutch and brings it to his waiting hand. He pops it open with a casual flick, peering inside.

"Condoms," he announces, pulling out the two foil wrappers. His dark eyes find mine and there's something almost pitying in his smile. "Two little rubbers. That's all you brought to Breedmore Lane?"

"Give those back!" I shriek, thrashing against the tendrils holding my wrists and ankles. The enchanted water sloshes around me, thick and clinging, amplifying every brush against my hypersensitive skin until even struggling feels like being caressed by a hundred warm hands. "Those are mine — I need those —"

Darius holds up both condoms between his thumb and forefinger, examining them like curiosities. Then two more tendrils emerge from his lower back — thicker ones, bulbous at the tips, pulsing with visible veins — and wrap around the foil packets. There's a tiny pop as each one is squeezed, the latex tearing like wet tissue paper. He holds up the shredded remains, dangling them above the water.

"There," he says softly, dropping the torn foil and ruined latex into the cauldron where they dissolve instantly in the enchanted liquid. "Now you don't have to worry about something you don't have anymore."

"No —" My voice cracks. I'm naked, restrained, my body burning with magical sensitivity, and now I have nothing. Zero condoms. Eleven houses still waiting in the moonlight outside.

Celeste laughs — rich, warm, delighted. Her massive cock bobs at the surface of the water, that shimmering pre-cum now flowing freely from the tip, mixing with the iridescent bathwater, coating my spread thighs in a warm, tingling film. "Oh, sweetie. Did you really think a little latex was going to save you tonight?" She grips her shaft and strokes it slowly, deliberately, letting me watch the thick vein pulse along its length. "After Marco's knot tore through one like it was nothing?"

She steps closer between my forced-open thighs, the head of her cock pressing against my swollen, hypersensitive pussy lips. The contact — even just this — sends a jolt through my entire body so intense my vision blurs. The enchanted water has made every nerve ending scream with sensitivity, and Celeste's aphrodisiac pre-cum is smearing directly against my clit, my entrance, soaking into my flesh.

"No more condoms," Celeste purrs, positioning the fat, leaking head of her eleven-inch cock right at my opening. "No more pretending you have any control over what happens to this pretty little cunt. Just us, and you, and all the cum we're going to pump into every hole you have."

Behind me, I feel Darius's body press against my back — and something else. Something thick and slick probing at my asshole. A tentacle, blunt-tipped and slippery with the enchanted water, circling my tight virgin ring.

"She's never had anything in here either," Darius murmurs against my ear, his breath hot. "I can feel how tight she is. How clenched."

"Not for long," Celeste says, and pushes forward.