Rites of Spring

The coven had closed the circle after the meager flask of overpriced wine and the plates of veggies had been passed around and emptied. In trickles they pulled away from the clearing and campfire that they had used by the granite altar. The final members, a pretty blonde woman and a lovely brunette, good friends, stayed behind to clean up any trace of the ceremony. Putting out the fire and collecting anything inadvertently left behind.

The job was soon done in the flickering light, the two women sat by the dying flames of the fire. They had found a stray joint left by another party in their cleaning and with girlish giggles lit it to pass back and forth between coughing fits.

Curled up in their cloaks against the chill breeze, they watched the flames shrink to embers in the firepit. They talked now, about their lives, about the coven that they were the only unattached members of. Of the High Priest, who even though married, kept a mistress in another town. Of the men they wanted, of the loneliness they shared as their biological clocks were ticking away.

They sat side by side still talking of dreams and hopes, of failure, and goals, the coven and the stiff rituals, this one in the woods had been for the rite of spring, usually a joyous fertility rite, but tonight was just another quiet holiday circle. Until now alone in the dark they had not truly felt anything of the magic that they had been so eager to learn. Until they found their faces so close.

They kissed like a debutante in front of her parents, giggling, shyly. Again curiously, and again. Between them the power was now rising. They drew together, tasting the others lips, throats. The pretty blond opened her cloak on her light blouse and flowing skirt, and her brunette companion pulled the drawstring top of her blouse down to reveal rose pointed soft breasts that she crushed with pleasure in her hands.

When she drew her hands down, pulling the rest of the pale girl's clothes with them, her partner in her turn wrenched her dark flowing robe from her from her to expose her dark tipped full breast and furry mound to the chill night and fastened her mouth to them.

Where the thought came from is not known. But both half dressed women, arose crossed from the circle and mounted the empty altar. Their clothes soon left behind on the ground as they knelt, face to eager face. The dark girl lay back spread out with her pale partner wrapping around her. Their legs spread opened and tangled to each others as they rocked and stretched out on the cold stone. Like cats in rut they crouched and thrust, passion that had been kept so low now fanned to volcanic heat.

Magic in any form must be fed. The summoning spell of the fertility ritual still lingered, waiting to feed and be fed. Hungering for more then genteel posturing of book chanted spells that had awaken it from winter sleep.

As the women leaned back from each other to look at the other's beauty, found a chain of glittering smoke, bound to misty collars around their arching necks, binding them to each other. For a moment they touched the cold smoke and marveled how it linked them together. But the cold mist burned them, a fire made of lust. Caressing it as if it were apart of their soft and wanton bodies, the women were far from being frightened by the spectral chain. It only fed their passion more.

The brunette ripped her hands from her lover's breast and reached the spot between her legs where the yellow fire centered. Thrusting up, she screamed her ecstasy as the girls fingers found her hidden flesh, rubbing searching, entering the empty space that yearned. She thrust her hips around in a wild joyful dance, her hair flowing in the wind, then grabbed the invading hand and bent to take the curious fingers into her mouth, licking sucking her own honey from it but only for a second before she pushed it back inside her spread pussy.

The brunette lay back with her naked lovers kneeling between her wide-open knees. The blonde now saw the soft damp black fur, but she could not bend far enough from the short chain binding her to touch it with her hungry mouth.

Frustrated she threw her self down on her partner, latching hungrily onto her breast. Legs locked together them frantically thrust and squirmed against those burning seats of pleasure and so much need.

When they attempted to break apart again-they found that their wrists had been manacled in the same mysterious fashion. Like handcuffs they found they were locked together in each other's arms. They had not seen anyone near them to harness them together like this.

For a moment they fought to free themselves. But the wrestling only fanned the flames. The more they fought, the friction of two naked bodies rubbing so tightly against each other, soft breast crushed into breast, distracted them again with the lust in their bellies. They clutched each other tightly now wordless because their tongues were occupied in silent communion.

There was something cold at the mouth of their sexes. Both women arched as one, displaying the needing, craving caverns they wanted so much to be filled. With a rough thrust, they were penetrated savagely with huge rods of ice, engorging them with a painful chill as they burned into their pussies, stretching them out.

The brunette girl as the uppermost, she felt a weight descend on her, pressing her down into the soft breasts of her lover. Below her, her lover screamed, planting her feet wide lifted her hips and her lover's buttocks high in her lust. As they wriggled in united terror against the invisible power mounting them, sliding down on the icicles of pleasure until their craving empty wombs were pushed open and violated by the invisible intruder.

They screamed with passion and agony as the icy phalluses stayed frigid suddenly expanding in size within their fiery raging bellies. Longer it pushed inside to push open the gates of their wombs, wider inside to expand the screaming anguish their cunnys experienced, now distended so pleasurably with the size of the marauding members.

Hunching backward into the thrusts they kept moaning in time to each thrust, tongues locked in wordless song. Bellies swollen rubbing against each other holding the invisible deamon's penises raging inside them.

Now, the icy penises enlarged with its onrushing orgasm, ripping into their empty wombs the tiny hairs along the lengths raised upward in its eldritch pleasure in the lust slick tunnels, tiny barbs raking and digging into soft flesh of their soft pink labia, back and forth with its pistoning of the beautiful naked witches filling them with icy, otherworldly semen.

Both women began to scream, this singular and unique pain of their captor's pleasure bringing them the dream they needed so much. They writhed screaming till chained together, clutching and clawing each other soft flesh in the throes of spasmodic misery. Still impaled on the phalluses, they felt them give a final shake within their turgid wombs. Slowing, shrinking, drawing out of them. The storm over, they grew tender kissing and licking.

As suddenly as they had appeared, the manacles and chains vanished leaving scored tattoos of where they had been. Just like the rods of ice that they had ridden, slipped from them as silently as they had come.

The ritual had been a success-to the only ones who paid the price, and the seeds of their luck had been planted as the seed of a man would have been. Under the lightening sky they whispered promises to stay together. To pray that this mysterious dream rapist and the father of they're unborn would come again. And if not, to lie with each other in memory of this night.

Still naked, in each other arms, momentarily slaked they watched the spring sun rise.