"Abner...ABNER!," Mrs. Kravitz was yelling, "there's something weird going on over at the Stevens house." She turned back from the window to see if Abner was listening to her, a pair of binoculars poised in her hands. "Mrs. Stevens is bent over a bench wearing nothing but black stockings and heels and Mr. Stevens isn't wearing anything but a pair of patent leather, ass-less chaps and he's swatting her ass with a big, wide, leather strap."
Abner lowered his newspaper for a second and looked over the rims of his bifocals. "Can I borrow the binoculars for a minute," he asked?
"Oh...oh, he just closed the shades."
"To bad, that Mrs. Stevens has a killer ass," he mumbled.
"What did you say?"
"I said too bad the Stevens need to cut their grass."
Across the street Darren loomed behind Samantha holding a stiff, heavy, leather flapper at the ready. "SO! Are you going to keep using magic," he shouted, menacingly?
"Welllllll....," she said, in her characteristic way, raising one eyebrow and letting the 'L's trail until the pitch lifted and became a nasal whine. The slapper immediately fell on her ass with a loud stinging slap. "NO, MASTER!," she shouted quickly.
"That's better," he answered.
"Master? A girl has been bad. A girl begs to be disciplined thoroughly."
Darren put the leather slapper away and uncoiled a tightly woven, kangaroo hide, single-tailed whip. He threw it out several times testing the full seven feet of its' length in the open area of the living room. He began tossing it at imaginary points in the air in a circle around her exposed skin, letting the tip flick and brush across the soft skin of her incredibly tight, skinny ass. In a short while her ass was criss-crossed with red stripes, some starting to display raised welts with flecks of bruising here and there.
Samantha closed her eyes and a vacant smile began to play across her face. She visibly stretched and raised her ass so that her delicate skin could taste every intricate stroke of the whip. Darren worked the popper at the end of the whip accurately, touching her from every conceivable angle but never letting her guess where the stroke would land. A beautiful warmth began to spread all through her body. She began to float.
Literally, she began to float. Her body started to levitate, slowly at first, inches at a time, but then almost visibly. After ten minutes of steady whipping she was suspended four feet in the air, hovering in what would seem a blissful, erotic sleep if the constant sound of a cracking whip hadn't accompanied the scene. She shifted slightly; her ass glowing a brilliant, cherry red, bars turning into bruises of electric purple. She caught her breath as a stinging stroke made her jump slightly and she bit her lip.
"Red...," she breathed, almost incomprehensibly.
Darren immediately coiled the whip and carefully laid it on the table, then wrapped Samantha in a huge, fuzzy blanket and guided her through the air to gently come to rest on the couch. He sat next to her as she curled up in the fetal position, sucking her thumb and shuddering slightly.
"She's going to be thirsty," he thought. He went into the kitchen to pour her a cool glass of ice water.
Almost as soon as the kitchen door swung shut there was an odd noise that sounded like a strum of harp strings and Samanthas' cousin appeared in the middle of the living room. Except for having a beehive of black hair and wearing oddly mod clothes, they were identical in every way. "Samantha," she called, "it's your cousin, Serena." She immediately noticed Samantha curled on the couch, the blanket fallen away just enough to reveal her bruised ass.
"Oh, I see you've had YOUR fun!"
"Honey, are you awake already? I'll be right there," Darren called from the kitchen.
Serena giggled a mischievous little laugh. "Now maybe I can have some fun myself." She waved her hand and Samantha levitated off of the couch and floated through the air, up the stairs and was deposited safely and gently on her bed without her waking. Serena snapped her fingers and was instantly naked except for hose and heels exactly matching Samanthas' and her hair changing to a trim housewife hairdo in honey blond. She quickly sprang onto the couch and laid back.
Darren came back into the living room with a tall pitcher of ice water. "Oh, you weren't under for long. Are you feeling ok?"
"Oh yes, darling, but I'm so incredibly horny that I couldn't wait." Although her voice was the same as Samanthas,' her accent was different, and Darren looked at her strangely.
"Are you sure you're ok? You sound a little funny."
"How would you expect me to sound? I'm still zoning, but darling I'm SO HORNY. Make love to me RIGHT NOW!"
"Anything for you," he said, and he settled himself at the end of the sofa and lifted her ankles so that her legs were wide apart. He bent over her pussy and began gently kissing her thighs causing her to inhale sharply. He continued nuzzling her, inhaling the sharp scent of her flower and nipping at the smooth skin of her mound with his lips. She closed her eyes and her head tilted back. Her hand gently caressed his hair as he ran his broad tongue up the entire length of her labia. She began breathing heavily, her firm breasts rising and falling as a soft sigh escaped her. She ran her left index finger around the aureola of her nipple as Darren touched her tender clit with his hard out-thrust tongue. He began expertly flicking her with his tongue, causing her to have an explosion of tiny orgasms that took her breath for a moment. Her mouth slipped open slightly as a shuddering sigh escaped her lips.
"Oh God, I want you in me," she moaned.
"Roll over and get on all fours," he told her, "you know how I love doing you doggy-style and feeling your hot ass against me."
She rolled off of the couch and knelt buns up on the carpet, sticking her ass high in the air to make it easy for him to enter her. He looked at her in disbelief.
"Wait a minute! What happened to all the welts and bruises," he demanded?
Samantha suddenly charged down the stairs and saw them. "SERENA," she shouted. With a snap of her fingers and a sound like someone hitting a spring with a mallet Serenas' hair had changed back to a black bee-hive, but she was still naked to her heels and hose. She shrugged her shoulders.
"You know what they say," Serena giggled, "once you go mortal you never go back!"
Samantha made a motion as if she were pitching a baseball and with the noise resembling the boing of a pogo stick Serena was securely cuffed to a rope spider web suspended in front of the fireplace. Samanthas' hand went immediately to the coiled whip and she unfurled it with a snap and a chord of harp strings that changed clothing from hose and heels to a black leather cat-woman outfit complete with stiletto heeled boots.
"MOTHER," she shouted to the ceiling and Endora appeared in a leather bustier, shorty skirt and net stockings. Her face was covered with a black feathered mask.
"Is this important? I was right in the middle of Mardi Gras," she crooned, dully.
"Mardi Gras? What, no beads," asked Samantha, her eyebrows going up?
"I did have, but I kept giving them all away to college girls."
Darren seemed amazed to see her and stood to one side, his mouth hanging open.
"What's the matter, Derwood, never seen a real woman," she frowned, sarcastically.
"Mother, I need you to help me teach Serena a lesson."
"No, please don't, Aunty Endora," Serena was begging.
"How long am I going to have to keep whipping your ass," Samantha was closing on her.
"Until I say 'red.'"
