Tamara's Apprenticeship - Day 04

Tamara jerked. She pumped. She worked her fists in an excited fury up and down the length of the thick, steel-hard rod she held in both hands.

"Yes! Yes!" Mildred gasped, "That's it! Nearly there! I'm coming... I'm... coming...!"

Tamara could feel the pressure building inside it, against the palms of her hands. It was swelling, it was throbbing, and then suddenly in response to her final vicious jerk it quivered and spewed forth a tall fountain of creamy froth that shot up into the air and fell back, dribbling over her fingers. Tamara marveled at the quantity of the stuff. And the size of the thing! It was as thick as a coke can!

It actually was a coke can. Tamara swiped away the fizzing soda from the side and checked the logo.

"Yes!" Mildred leaned forward, her pretty demon eyes fixed avidly on the sheet of parchment laid out on the table in front of them, "I'm coming... home!"

Tamara watched with her as a sizzling heap of beige foam sloshed out of the coke can and onto the runic equations she and Mildred had traced onto the parchment.

Tamara felt a little leap of excitement in her stomach when she saw the runes begin to glow. A few of them lit up, in a queasy electric green. She recognized the glowing symbols as the Demonic Constants, the values that governed the rate of transfer of energy and information between worldly and infernal dimensions. She had learned a lot from Mildred already. The demon girl was circumspect about her abilities, but Tamara suspected she was very bright. Alongside studying from Miss Millie's spellbook, Tamara had spent the last day and a half trying to help Mildred cast again the same spell that had accidentally summoned her here from her home back in Hell.

The runes flickered, then faded, and a puff of coke-scented fumes rose from the parchment as the glowing green died out and disappeared. Nothing else happened.

"Didn't work?" Tamara looked across at Mildred.

Mildred was frowning. She looked disappointed, "We were close. Some of the magic was activated. I think we have at least found the correct equivalent soda drink for this dimension."

"That's progress," Tamara ventured.

She looked over at the stack of crates in the corner of the basement, each loaded with a dozen sodas bearing labels in every language Tamara knew, and many more that she didn't. Beside the crates stood a small ziggurat of empty, dented cans. Over the course of the afternoon they had by a process of trial and error homed in on the type of soft drink that seemed to produce the most powerful magical reaction together with Mildred's equations. Tamara was very proud that she herself had discovered the increase in potency that could be achieved by first vigorously shaking the can.

"Yes," Mildred sighed, and sat up, "But there's obviously some vital ingredient still missing."

Tamara looked again at the runes. The green glow had all but faded. "When it happened before, did all the equations light up? The whole thing?"

Mildred stroked her chin, frowning, "The first time? I think then I was taken by surprise. It all just happened so quickly, there was a bang, some glowing. and the green smoke. I'm not sure."

Mildred seemed very distracted. Despondent, even. Tamara checked the parchment again, hoping she might see something there that could help. But the ink of the symbols had drained into an indistinct mess, dark trails beginning to stream off the edge of the wooden tabletop to drip onto a large sticky patch of flavorings and preservatives on the dusty floor of the basement.

"You know, it's funny," Tamara began, pondering something, "But this is kind of a lot like cum-piling, in a way."

"Yeah. I suppose. We write out the system of differential equations for interdimensional energy transfer. That's a bit like a sorce code I guess, albeit a very abstract one."

"Then we shower them in a sticky mess," Tamara completed the thought.

"Right," Mildered pondered. Then she frowned, "What does that stuff taste like, by the way?"

"It's okay. Refreshing maybe, in moderation, but a bit too sweet." To demonstrate, Tamara ran her tongue over her fingers where they had been drenched in soda at the climactic moment of the magic trial. She stuck out each finger in turn and wrapped her tongue around it, swiping off the syrupy residue and lapping it up into her mouth.

"Uhh..."

In concert with Mildred's curious little groan, Tamara noticed two things occur. The ink of the magical equations, which was already blurring and running off the soaked parchment, gave off a sudden renewed flash of green, then faded. The effect reminded Tamara of the way some pieces of electrical equipment signal their awakening from standby mode.

The second thing she noticed, though in retrospect it seemed to occur at exactly the same moment as the green glow, was a similarly sudden pulsing movement at the lower edge of her vision, where something long and vaguely soft-looking twitched upward, then fell slowly back out of view.

Tamara looked down, "Um, Mildred..."

Mildred looked too. Then her face fell and she yanked her trenchcoat briskly but ineffectually closed around her slowly rising beast of a horsecock, "Oh no! I'm sorry."

"Come on, Mildred," Tamara suppressed a giggle, "I've seen you in action. It's fine. You shouldn't be embarrassed."

"Sure, but... we're working," Mildred cast her eyes down, coy, "I should be professional."

Tamara looked away, smiling. She became aware of her hand in front of her face, still sticky with the overflow of the erupted Pepsi can. Then a thought began to form, an idea. Which quickly snowballed to an excited conclusion.

Of course!

"Oh my," Tamara turned and fixed Mildred with what she hoped was a seductive smirk, "I am all sticky aren't I? Such a naughty, messy girl."

Tamara opened her lips, pursed them, and slid them slowly onto her index finger. She sucked in her cheeks, and swirled her tongue around inside them, murmuring the sorts of ostentatious sounds of appreciation that women make when consuming sweet drinks or desserts in commercials. Holding Mildred's gaze, she slid her finger out with a moist

pop

, then proceeded to repeat the procedure on her middle finger.

Mildred stared. Tamara could see the demon girl's breathing quickening, and her cheeks flushing pink. When Tamara reached her third finger, she stole a glance downward. Though bending under its own weight, Mildred's slowly lengthening cock was unmistakably half-erect, poking out of the seam of her trenchcoat.

"Uhh, Tam-m-mara..." Mildred stammered.

Tamara looked then to the soggy parchment on the table. The forms of the equations had soaked and run into an indistinct mass, but the ink was definitely glowing, and glowing brightly. Yes! She was right!

"Think about it Mildred," Tamara gasped, popping a final pinky finger out of her mouth, "Magic, it runs on... on... horniness, sexy feelings."

"I dunno," Mildred frowned, skeptical, "Maybe for your spells it does. But when it happened the first time, I was just sitting there."

"No you weren't. Remember," Tamara persisted, her excitement mounting, "Didn't you say you were thinking about your friend? The one who was studying to be a succubus?"

"Minty," said Mildred dejectedly.

"Minty. Right. And you also have the hots for her, right?"

"I..." Mildred looked away, "She's... really special. I mean, she's a succubus. Of course she's hot. Everyone wants to...."

Tamara waited for Mildred to elaborate on her statement, but it remained incomplete, hanging there.

"So that's it. Horny thoughts," Tamara clapped her hands, "For you to be transported across the planes, we need to get you going, tickle your fancy. That will boost it. Come on, let's at least give it a try."

Mildred groaned. She set her hand on her risen erection, tried discreetly to push it down, "Ah, you might be right. Well, you probably are right. How embarrassing. You're going to think I'm some sort of sex addict."

"No, no, come on," Tamara reassured her, "It's nice. I'm flattered if I can help make this work. Anyway, this is important for me. As an apprentice witch I need to learn how to work with, uh, cum-piler demons. Consider this part of my education. You're helping me out."

"I guess," Mildred conceded. She glanced again at Tamara and relaxed her restraining grip on her horsecock, "You're right. That must be it. How it works. It's just like your girlfriend said."

"My girlfriend?"

"Your teacher I mean," Mildred replied, "Miss Millie."

Tamara felt her heart give a little flutter of excitement at the mention of Miss Millie's name. Followed shortly after by a similar flutter in her cunt.

If it's in that order, does that mean I'm in love?

Tamara shook herself. She stood up, "Alright Mildred. Let's get your brimstone boat afloat. We are sending you home!"

Yes, this is me, I'm a witch! A sexy witch fatale! I do magic and seduce demons!

Tamara grabbed the hem of her only remaining superhero t-shirt and peeled it up over her chest. She lingered at her bust, trying to achieve one of those boob-flop effects that she had seen camgirls do online. But the t-shirt was tighter than she had reckoned with, and with one boob half-flopped, pinned to her chest at the nipple by the rolled hem of the shirt, she got her arm entangled and stuck against her body as she tried to extract it. She paused, tugged, then heard a loud rip at her back.

"Uh, Mildred..."

Mildred was looking up at her in a daze, "Oh. Right. Let me help." She stood swiftly up and fumbled at Tamara's t-shirt.

"It's already ripped," Tamara sighed, "You can just tear it off."

Tamara felt Mildred's delicate clawed fingers scrabble at the exposed skin of her back. Any lingering hope that the act of ripping off her clothes might salvage some of the sexiness of the situation was dispelled during the very long three minutes of grunting and yanking that it took Mildred to finally shred away one half of the t-shirt, allowing Tamara to slip free, finally topless.

"Thanks. Well..." Tamara gasped. She looked down at Mildred's now slightly deflated cock, hanging out in front of her in a heavy arc. "Um, so let's... Oh come here."

Tamara set her hands to the lapels of Mildred's coat and helped her shrug it off, then she thrust her mouth forward and pressed it to Mildred's. Relieved to encounter no resistance, Tamara opened her lips for a kiss.

"Now," Tamara whispered as she pulled back, "You write out those equations again, while I go and... slip into something more comfortable."

"Huh?" said Mildred.

"I'm going to put on a sexy outfit," Tamara explained.

Mildred gulped, "Oh. Right."

***

After the excitement of her little breakthrough, Tamara found the silence in Miss Millie's bedroom slightly unsettling. It was the first time she had set foot in the room since she and Miss Millie had dressed there together in preparation for the portal spell a couple of days earlier.

The portal spell that had whisked Miss Millie off to face unknown danger in a presumably far-off or even otherworldly location. And left Tamara here alone.

Tamara spied the bottom drawer of Miss Millie's wardrobe. It was still open a sliver. A stray purple strap hung out, trailing to the floor. It was the lingerie drawer that she had come up here for, but as she tiptoed over to the wardrobe something else caught her eye. A silent swish of fur.

Malkin was sitting on top of Miss Millie's writing desk. Mindful of Malkin's earlier mischief, Tamara eyed him up warily. Even looking right at him now, idly swishing his tail from side to side, Tamara could hear nothing. She had neither heard nor seen him come in, and he was still completely silent.

Then Malkin stepped carefully and deliberately back, revealing what he was sitting on. There was a loose pile of small scraps of paper, all the same size and color, stacked on top of each other right where Malkin had been sitting. Tamara recalled the disorderly state of the desk the first time she had entered the bedroom. Miss Millie had obviously tidied up before her departure, because now the desk was bare. Except for that one small pile.

Tamara wasn't sure she wanted to look at the papers. Miss Millie had found out the first time, whether by magic or simple sharp observation. And Tamara felt sure the formidable woman would find out again, even if she was absent. On the other hand, the papers looked particularly inviting. Right there in the center of the desk. It was as if Miss Millie had left them out deliberately. Or had Malkin taken them out himself? It felt almost as if either he or Miss Millie meant for her to read them. She was torn.

'Torn', hehe.

Weak, Tam, weak.

She looked. She had to. And after reading for a few moments it slowly dawned on her what she was looking at. And the first thing she felt was an immense relief. Relief that she had not missed this.

Tamara dear girl,

Dear Tamara,

My dear,

Dearest dear Tamara,

I suspect you do not know how dear you have become to me

And so on. The first sheet of paper was filled with one abortive opening line after another, each struck through with a thick line of ink. Some of those towards the bottom of the paper had been more thoroughly erased and were no longer legible.

The second sheet was similar, but here the writer had gotten a little bit further with what looked like a single, cohesive message, only to scribble the whole thing out.

Dear Tamara,

As I will have told you by now, I am departing. Probably for some time. I may even have to face a certain degree of danger. I have tried to put on a brave face, but this makes me sadder than perhaps you are aware. Not for myself, but for the thought that I may lose you. During the short time that you have worked for me I have come to

There were more letters further down the pile. Some went a little further, and the tone and style varied, but in their substance they conveyed more or less the same message as the second one. Towards the bottom of the pile there were some that looked longer and more complete, but these had been more carefully scribbled out, so that not even stray words were decipherable.

Tamara searched the pile, at first frantically, then more carefully, checking each letter. But none of them was complete and undefaced. If Miss Millie had at some point made her mind up and written her a final parting note, then it was gone. More probably Miss Millie had tried, but then decided against it, for whatever reason.

Tamara felt a gradually quickening thump in her chest. Her vision wibbled as a film of wetness coated her eyes. She wiped them dry on her bare forearm, and felt a slick of sticky coke smear across her face.

Come on Tam, pull yourself together. Mildred needs you. Focus. Let's get her home to her friend.

And then...?

Tamara looked at Malkin, whose eyes suddenly swiveled up from staring at her tits.

Tamara gave a tear-choked chuckle, "Malkin you kindly pervert, thank you."

The cat cocked his head quizzically.

"For showing me this, I mean," Tamara waved her hand at the stack of papers, "What... What do you think I should do?"

Malkin seemed to sigh, then ponder. Was he thinking? Or was he just teasing? Then he leaped down from the desk and brushed past Tamara's leg to sidle out of the room. Tamara followed, down the stairs and along the ground floor corridor.

Despite having worked for Miss Millie for the most part of a week, and despite having regularly gotten horribly messy while on the job, and in a variety of ways, Tamara had not actually been in the bathroom before.

It was spacious, but cluttered. The surfaces were stacked with bottles of various bright colors, some obviously modern and made from plastic, others rather antique looking, glass or ceramic, some even coated in dust and cobwebs.

Among the clutter, Malkin, still mincing imperiously along with his tail aloft, made straight for the big mirrored cabinet above the sink. Tamara followed, and opened it. She peered in at more clutter. Bottles, packets, little boxes. She looked again at Malkin for guidance.

The cat rolled his eyes at her, then wearily lifted a paw to swipe down one of the boxes. The box fell into the sink and Tamara retrieved it.

She read aloud, "XXXXL ultra-durable latex condoms."

Condoms? What...? Condoms! Of course!

"Got it. Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Tamara pinched Malkin affectionately on the side of his face. She turned to hurry out, but as she moved she felt a paw on the back of her hand.

"Something else?"

Malkin looked at her then nodded up at the cabinet.

***

"Hi," Tamara spoke in a husky whisper. She clutched the doorframe at the top of the stairs and cocked her hips in imitation of a seductive pose she had seen somewhere in an erotic artwork.

There was a shuffling sound. From down in the dimness of the basement below, Mildred turned and looked up at her. Then Mildred opened her mouth and appeared to make an attempt to speak. "Hhhnrrghlgh," she said, or near enough.

Tamara descended slowly, a smile on her lips. With each tread, she planted her foot heavily on the wooden step, and felt her perky, pointy breasts bounce down then spring back up onto her chest.

"T-T-T... M-M... Tamm-ma-mamra. What are you doing?" Mildred gawped.

"I'm getting you home. And this," Tamara swept her hand down her naked, teal-tinted body, "Is a little... haha...

taste

of what awaits you there."

"Um... how?" Mildred's hands crept discreetly to her crotch, fumbling to hold down something that was gradually making its way upward in steady pulsing leaps.

Having reached the foot of the stairs, Tamara strode over to Mildred and set her finger on the demon girl's lips, "Shh. Don't spoil the magic." She leaned in to whisper at Mildred's ear, "But if you must know, I took a bath in an entire crate of peppermint mouthwash."

When Mildred opened her mouth in surprise, Tamara lunged forward. There was a brief moment of mutual hesitation as their lips clasped closed about each other, and then suddenly the kiss became a rush of pure, horny excitement.

Tamara parted the front of Mildred's trenchcoat and their bodies met. As they pressed, then gently squirmed, Tamara sensed a trace of minty fresh vapor rising from her mouthwash-soaked skin into the air before her face, and her eyes began to smart.

"Oh, wow," Mildred drew deep gasps of air in between kisses, "This is weird. Weird... but hot. You are being too kind. I-"

Tamara cut her off with a clumsy, saliva-muffled shush. Her hands reached for Mildred's shoulders and yanked down the trenchcoat. Mildred shrugged and struggled until she flung it off, one sleeve after the other, onto the floor behind her.

Then Tamara felt it. She was aware of having placed her legs strategically, planted a small way apart, with her body pressed squarely face-to-face with Mildred's. She felt she had perhaps done so in unconscious anticipation of what was happening right now. But feeling it, there between her legs, it still sent a shiver of exotic excitement up through the core of her body.

The shaft of Mildred's fearsome horsecock was pressed up between Tamara's spread thighs. Tamara had felt the texture of it before, when she and Miss Millie had worked it with their hands and mouths, but it surprised her once again with its softness. It was hot, too. She could feel warmth coursing through a vein on its side, right against her thigh. And the top of it lay against her slit, pressing firmly upward. With Mildred's dextrous demon tongue stroking the inside of her mouth, Tamara could feel herself already getting wet. Her folds were slowly parting and sliding across the girth of Mildred's still stiffening cock.