The Witch’s Lair

The rest of the night was a haze. I came in and out of consciousness in a dreamlike state, watching myself do whatever she commanded. I felt like I was outside my body and floating above, taking it all in from ten feet off the ground.

It started in the shower. I watched myself lumber towards the bathroom and kneel. She unbound me, loosening my restraints, and stepped into the shower. She told me to wash her and I obeyed. I massaged her with soap, and then gently rinsed the foam off her body. She wanted to be shaved. I carefully drew the razor against her pussy, rinsed it, and shaved again until she was smooth.

“Your turn,” she told me. “Bend over. Face down, ass up.” I obeyed, barely noticing that my face was pressed against the shower floor.

“Good boy. Now spread your ass.” I felt the warm water trickle over me as she shaved around my asshole, fingering me as she pleased. She slid a finger in me and stroked my dick, leaning down and sucking my balls as she milked me gently. She buried her face deep in my ass, her tongue pressing hard against my balls, stroking harder.

Suddenly I woke up, my ankle chained to a ring in the cement floor. I was in the cellar. She had modified it quite a bit. The room had been painted black and red, with strange occult symbols adorning the walls, floor, and ceiling. A St. Andrew’s cross stood in the corner. A shower with no privacy in the other. A bed with restraints against the wall. Ropes and chains hung from the ceiling, and a pillory along with other various pieces of sex furniture were spread across the room, lit by lanterns and long candlesticks. An impressive wall mount, designed to hold tools, instead supported dozens of whips, belts, gags, vibrators, dildos, buttplugs, cock cages, and other sex toys. A small bookcase stood next to the large wooden door that now blocked the stairway.

I unsteadily rose to my feet, dragging the chain along with me as I stumbled over to the bed. I was in a comfortable red robe but nothing else. The wooden door creaked open.

My wife appeared in the doorway with dark makeup around her eyes and a red robe that matched mine. She walked towards me, whispering something that sounded like Latin. I sat at the edge of the bed, motionless.

“Drink this,” she said, handing me a glass of blue liquid. I complied, swallowing the last drop before it occurred to me to ask what it was.

“Another ancient concoction the witch taught you to make?” I managed to ask. She smiled.

“No. I ground up a few dick pills. You’re going to need them.” My heart started beating faster. I could already feel them taking effect as my cock filled up with blood.

“Well,” she said innocently, “maybe I added one or two ingredients. It’s a very special brew.”

“You roofied me, didn’t you?”

“Maybe you know me better than I thought,” she giggled, lowering her robe. She was dressed all in leather and lace. A dog collar, fishnets, gloves, a black corset held together by a pentagram in the center. But that’s not what made my heart nearly stop. A long, thick, black dildo hung between her legs. She spun around, leather straps clinging to her big, sexy ass.

“Do you like it?” She asked over her shoulder. She turned around again, holding the nine-inch black cock in her delicate, frail hand. “You never asked me for pegging, but I figure it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Besides, I’ve always wanted to try it. Now that you’re my new toy — my permanent **** — I figured I could finally show you why I like big black cock. Trust me, you’ll love it.” She leaned in. “Probably not as much as I do, though.”

She pointed to the pillory. “You need some spankings, boy. Put yourself in those stocks.” I obeyed, still under her spell. She clamped the stocks down over my head and wrists as I knelt on a cushioned leather board, bent over. She paced back and forth slowly, finally selecting a riding crop from the wall.

“What do you deserve, boy?”

“Punishment,” I answered. She whipped my balls with the crop and I winced.

“Excuse me?”

“Punishment, mistress.”

“Mistress is acceptable. So is ‘master’, ‘goddess’, ‘my queen’, ‘your majesty’, or ‘your highness’, if you prefer.”

“Yes, master.”

Another lash cracked against my skin.

“Thank you, master.”

Another one.

“Thank you, master.”

She walked in front of me. “Open up,” she commanded. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue. She slid the black dildo over my tongue, putting it in just a few inches. I could barely fit it in my mouth. She looked down on me with satisfaction.

“You look good with a dick in your mouth,” she said. I cast my eyes down and she whipped my back with the crop. “Keep looking up at me.” I did as I was told, maintaining eye contact with her as she stretched out my mouth. That look of deep, intense satisfaction never left her face.

“I like black cock,” she said. “Now say it back to me.” Since the dildo was still filling my mouth, I could hardly say anything. For my hesitation, she whipped me again. “Now,” she commanded.

“Mmrmh mra mroch,” I said, every word muffled. She laughed.

“Again.”

“Mmrmh mra mroch,” I repeated, and she laughed harder, whipping me in the ass with her riding crop.

“Again!”

I repeated it again and again as she laughed maniacally, her cock stuffed in my face, each utterance earning me another sharp crack of leather against the skin. Muffled noises, hysterical laughter, the crack of the whip, followed by “Again!” She repeated this several times before she decided this particular humiliation was complete.

She dropped the riding crop and it clattered to the floor. She grabbed my head with both hands and facefucked me with her BBC. Guck guck guck guck guck guck guck. Finally, she pulled out and I coughed and coughed, saliva dripping down my face. “So that’s what that feels like,” I thought to myself.

She grabbed my head again. “This is fun,” she said. “I like facefucking you.” Guck guck guck guck guck guck guck. She pulled out and I gasped.

“Deepthroat me,” she commanded.

“Yes, mistr--” I said, cut off by the dildo sliding back into my mouth. She pressed it back as far as she could, but my throat blocked her from going all the way in.

“Relax your throat,” she said, annoyed. “Open it up! God, you’ve obviously never sucked a cock before.”

Tears running down my face, I tried to relax my throat but I couldn’t seem to get it right. She finally pulled out, frustrated.

“We’ll need to work on that,” she said, walking behind me as I gasped for air. “We’ll make a proper hole of you yet.”

She giggled, running a finger along my rock-hard dick.

“It looks like you liked it, though.”