She Is Introduced to the Dungeon

Ann showed up early, but didn't want to appear too eager so she paced around the street in front of Susan's house for 15 minutes, anticipation building in her mind about what an amazing night she was about to have. She wasn't really a goth, although that clique was the best match for how she felt about herself. And she wasn't sure about witchcraft, but the very idea of magic and spells and mystic power appealed to her on a base level. Today was the first time she had worked up the courage to do into the magic shop, and she still couldn't believe her luck, running into a real witch like Susan who had shown her such kindness!

Finally she couldn't bear the suspense any longer, so at ten minutes to eight she walked up the steps, across the front porch, and tried the doorbell. It didn't appear to be working, so she tried the large, gargoyle-like black iron knocker. The metal felt unnaturally cold to her, and she could almost swear that a tongue had snaked out and licked her hand after her third rap on the door. She shivered involuntarily, and just then the front door flew open.

Susan didn't look happy. "You're early," she stated simply, no emotion apparent in her demeanor. "Yes, um..." Ann stammered, "Sorry about that..." She dropped her eyes to the floor in a classic pose of submission, and Susan's lip curled up with a sneer. "You may have to be punished," she stated, then returned her face to its impassive look before Susan could detect anything amiss. "Yeah, heh, heh. Umm... Punished, yeah." was the girl's nervous reply.

"Step inside," Susan ordered, and Ann passively accepted the invitation. Susan looked her over like one would persue a slab of beef at the butcher shop. For the second time in less than a minute, Ann shivered involuntarily, for she wasn't used to being sized up so obviously.

"Strip to your underwear," Susan commanded in a plain voice. "What?" was Ann's confused reply.

"It wasn't a complicated directive," the she-devil-in-training replied coldly. "Strip. To. Your. Underwear." After a pause, she added, "Now."

"But I don't..." Ann stammered.

"Fine, leave then," Susan snarled, her outstretched finger pointing back out the still-open front door. Ann hesitated, clearly unsure of what to do, then she started to remove her clothes. Again, while the prey couldn't see because she was pulling her shirt over her head, Susan sneered with evil intent.

Once there was a pile of clothes in the foyer, Susan closed the door and then pointed in the other direction. Walk down there, turn left at the end, and then left again down the stairs. "Aren't you coming?" Ann asked meekly. Susan responded with a glare of pure evil, and Ann actually gasped a bit before she turned to follow the instructions.

As soon as Ann was out of sight, Susan picked up the girl's pseudo-goth clothes. The corruption Danya had started was taking firm hold, and Susan was starting to understand some of her new demonic powers. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, then concentrated on the bundle of clothes. When she looked down, the ordinary items had been transformed into classic slut-wear. The Doc Martens were now patent leather, thigh-high fuck-me boots. The long black denim skirt had become a parody of a Catholic schoolgirl's plaid pleated skirt with a patent leather belt and huge buckle. The faded black cotton t-shirt was replaced by a midriff-baring white button-down shirt. Even Susan was surprised, because she had not specifically tried to create these particular items. "A nice fantasy of mine anyway, though..." she thought with satisfaction.

A shriek followed by a scream that was cut off after a couple of seconds told Susan that her prey had made her way downstairs. Merely by sweeping her hand from her head down her body she changed her own attire--she was now unmistakably a dominatrix. Severe hairstyle and makeup, red-and-black leather corset with matching gloves and panties, and shoes with impossibly high heels and complicated straps and buckles all over them. Without a second thought she was able to effortlessly walk in the towering shoes, and she followed the hall as she had directed her new ****. She walked down the steps, her stiletto heels click-clicking menacingly the entire way. As she reached the bottom of the steps and came around to look at the large, soundproof room she was pleased at what she saw.

Ann was shackled to the wall, a yellow ball-gag preventing further screaming. The terrified girl writhed her delicious body, futilely trying to escape. "I see that you've already been introduced to my dungeon," Susan taunted. "You wanted to experience real magic? Well, you already have, obviously. Those chains and that gag were just waiting for you to waltz in here so that they could perform their function." Susan's voice was calm, almost sing-songy as she teased the bound girl.

"You're going to be seeing a lot more magic tonight, girl," Susan sneered, turning the last word into a snarl of derision. "Where should I begin?" she continued, looking over the walls covered with implements of pain, pleasure, and ****.

Susan wasn't sure if she needed to do more prep work on the ****-in-training (nipple chains, **** piercings, butt plug), just step in and **** her mercileslly (strap-on dildo, butt-rammer machine, clit stimulator), or cast some more magic first (appearance changes, magical pain and pleasure stimulation, conjure magical beasts and beings). "Yes, where should I begin..."