Danya stared down her body, morbidly fascinated. There, between her legs, lay an erect, thick and throbbing shaft. She could see through it, though not entirely, and the rest of her body remained regular, but she had some sort of translucent magical cock now attached to the end of her clit.
The odd part, or perhaps just more odd than this already was, was the fact that she still felt everything else. Those same magical and invisible hands from before teased across her slit and her wet, aroused lips, and tapped and rubbed at her clit. Beatrix smiled sweetly, then took Danya's newfound, illusory cock between her hands, stroking it.
It... oh gods, it felt so new and different and... she was feeling both, wasn't she? Danya felt double sensations; that of having a cock stroked, plus the firm caresses against her clit and the delving pressure inside of her. It was too much, too soon, and she came hard right then and there. Her orgasm pressed into her, some fierce and needy thing, and she could do nothing to stop it.
Except how did that work? Forcing herself to keep her eyes open and watch, she stared at the magical cock wrapped between Beatrix's fingers. The shaft of it throbbed like any other man's, pulsing with inherent power. Her cockhead grew larger, brimming with sexuality, and then...
She came. Twice at once, at the same time. Not seed like a real man's cock, but something akin to it. Sweet, thick magic splashed from the end of the magical cock that Beatrix had created for her. The witch kept stroking and teasing her, heightening her pleasure. It was so sensitive and tickled! Danya squirmed and laughed and tried to pull away, but Beatrix simply grinned and continued.
In time, the magic of the cock illusion vanished, shriveling back into a puddle of malformed energy. It lay on Danya's pubis, sticky and thick like a man's cum. She touched it, moving it around with her fingers, entranced with the idea of it. Her body swelled with ecstasy and ideas and she thought she might want more; right now and immediately. But, no.
"Was that alright?" Beatrix asked.
"It..." Danya didn't know how to explain it.
"Somewhat overwhelming at first, isn't it? It takes a lot of magic to do, though it seems like some simple parlor trick in a lot of ways. Or, at least it takes a lot of magic to do properly. To seamlessly combine something that doesn't exist to the necessary points in a woman's body is difficult."
"You're trying to bribe me, aren't you?" Danya asked. She wanted to sound serious and concerned, but the stupid grin on her face from the aftermath of double orgasms refused to go away.
"No," Beatrix said, then shrugged. "Perhaps? Is it working? I just wanted to show you what you could gain if you agree to my arrangement."
"Which is what exactly?" Danya asked. "Go over it once more."
"The simple gist of it is that I'd like to share a bed with you and Everett. Not always, but often. Privately. No one else would need to know. I won't interfere with your future marriage, when he inevitably proposes to you, nor will I do anything to come between you two. I'll magically enhance what you both have, and offer you wild pleasure beyond belief, but I'll also protect this mansion and its inhabitants from harms way."
"If Everett is sleeping with the both of us, the mansion attendants will return to normal faster, too. Right?"
"I suppose that's true." Beatrix nodded. "Yes."
"You need to make sure Alena is alright," Danya added. "I'm worried."
"I shall. Matilda has offered to help, too. Dante, also, of course. She's infatuated with him now."
"Alright. Good. Wait... she's what?" Dante? Everett's brother? With her sister? Was that good or bad?
Beatrix shrugged. "I don't know. I just know that after she went through her transformation, she begged for Dante. He acquiesced and brought her back to his room, where she's resting. It's all rather odd. They aren't even having sex. She's wearing a nightgown, last I knew. I can sense them from here, and they're discussing not having sex, and both of them are becoming aroused by it. It's possibly the most abnormal thing I've ever experienced."
Danya wrinkled her brow. "Oh."
"She's doing well, though. Very well. For a woman who just transformed into a succubus to be able to completely deny her lust and have a conversation with a man about how they won't be having sex anytime in the near future... I hope you understand that's very out of the ordinary. A succubus is practically a being created from arousal. They can control it in time, yes, but your sister's done that in... less than a few hours? Quite incredible and fascinating."
"Oh." Danya wasn't sure how she felt about her younger sister being a creature of pure arousal. It didn't quite sit well with her.
"The scene before," Beatrix added. "On the table, where you were naked. I can perform similar with you and Everett. Nothing real, but imagined. Whatever either of you likes. And..."
The witch trailed off and Danya glanced at her. Beatrix looked troubled, with her brow scrunched up, and lips pursed.
"You'll die," Beatrix said finally. "In time, though certainly not soon. I can't do anything about that. Everett will live longer, because of the curse. That won't ever truly fade. I have the rose, though. I can bring you back if you'd like, the same as I did for Matilda. I can do it for both of you. If you want, you can live forever. I'm not saying this as a way of changing your mind, I'm just explaining. It will take hundreds of years, and you both might be apart for some time because of that, but..."
"If we do that," Danya said. "If Everett and I did decide on something like that, would you stay, too? With us? If I were dead, would you keep him company until you brought me back? Would you keep me company until he was revived, too?"
Beatrix swallowed hard, choking on her words. "Yes. I know I've been awful, and I'm sorry, but if you'd let me do that, if... if I could have companions for the future... forever..."
"That might be nice," Danya said, smiling. "We might grow tired of each other, though."
Beatrix nodded. "Perhaps. It's possible. In my experience, there's so much to do in this world that it's difficult to become bored even if you try."
Danya grinned. "We might have to try, then."
...
Beatrix was soft. And dull. How could one of her proteges become like that? Matilda didn't know, nor did she especially care, she supposed. Or, she did care somewhat, but Beatrix had done as she'd asked, and so she could hardly fault her for much else.
Presumably her softness was what did it. What other sort of witch would use one of the century rose's ultimate wishes to bring back another witch, a potential rival for the rose?
Not that Matilda ever really wanted the rose in the first place. She wanted to live forever, yes, but besides that, what more could she hope for? Looking nice was nice enough, but it barely seemed to matter. It paled in comparison to immortality, to be honest. She could revive someone, she supposed, but she didn't want to bother with that. Too much effort involved in re-adapting a previously dead person to the land of the living.
Beatrix could manage the rose for awhile longer, at least as far as Matilda was concerned. A millennium or so, perhaps two, and what more would her student need to wish for after that? The whole thing should become tiresome by then, and Matilda might have use of a few wishes afterwards, too. Mostly, none of it mattered because if she spent enough time studying and experimenting, she could probably figure out how to do anything she wanted to do on her own, without having to rely on a rose that took a hundred years to offer her its full power.
Some small, insignificant and weakly compassionate part of her thought the girl deserved some happiness, too. This wasn't a standard sorceress mindset, but oh well. When Matilda had first found Beatrix, the young thing was whoring herself out on the streets in order to pay for some tiny little closet of a room at the worst inn in town, with nothing more than a few scraps and a biscuit every night to feed herself.
Beatrix was pretty enough at the time; she did make money through prostitution. But she was pallid and meek and more than a tad scrawny. The young girl intrigued Matilda, though. The witch couldn't h
ave said why, nor exactly what she found appealing in that rat's nest of sex-addled hair and the barely suitable rag of a dress clinging to the slim ruffian's body. The little thing didn't even wear shoes, nor cosmetics, nor much else.
"How old are you?" Matilda had asked her one day, while offering a scrap of her breakfast to the waifish tart.
Beatrix devoured the morsel of bacon and egg stuck between two chewy muffin cakes. "I'm sixteen, ma'am, but I ain't into servicin' women."
Matilda stared at the creature before her, blinking, pondering. "What the hell do I need your service for, anyways?"
Beatrix shrugged, unsure.
"Do you want a job?" Matilda had asked then; perhaps the best and worst thing she'd ever done. "A place to live? Doing odd errands here and there." Odd was, perhaps, an understatement. "Nothing like what you're doing now, you dirty little tramp. Something more. Something magical."
"There ain't no magic, ma'am. That's just stories."
Beatrix both delighted and confounded the older woman. How absurd! No magic? Really now?
Matilda smiled, remembering it. It was so ludicrous and inane, but she enjoyed the memories. Beatrix was a good pupil, too. Matilda's only one, as a matter of fact. Once the witch brushed the girl's hair, taught her how to clean properly, and gave her more fitting attire, she looked far more pleasing, too. No more servicing men in back alleyways, none of that insanity. Matilda made her work and learn and practice. Beatrix was good for testing experiments and gathering reagents, and all of that. Almost like an alchemical laboratory rat, but with a slight amount more intelligence.
And Beatrix had promised to revive Matilda with the rose, of course. Matilda started growing it on a whim, knowing she'd never live long enough to use it. She never expected to take up a student, either, but she supposed things changed sometimes. The wretched plant would probably die, she remembered thinking. Who cared?
On her deathbed, Matilda bequeathed it to Beatrix and made her promise to use its wish fulfillment magic in order to bring her back. Beatrix had cried, wept like some tiny child. That was so long ago now, wasn't it? Her protege had grown a lot since their initial encounter. How old was she then? How old were they, both of them? Not that it mattered, but Matilda was curious. She wondered if Beatrix was really as naive as she used to be.
Yes and no, probably. Two different answers, but not entirely. Beatrix must know more, but she couldn't deal with one of the named fallen angels on her own, so there was that; she obviously didn't know enough. Granted, most regular witches would never have been able to deal with one either, but most would've died in the process of summoning anything like Pinem'e, too. Beatrix obviously wasn't dead, so she must be at least competently powerful.
Good, Matilda thought. Good and, yes, she would work alongside her protege again. Despite the fact that she thought Beatrix was slightly unhinged, in a manner of speaking (because what witch would offer to safeguard an entire household for paltry compensation?), Matilda liked her.
That Danya girl was similar in some ways, too. Perhaps that's why Beatrix wanted to be closer to her. That'd hardly work out, but whatever they wanted to do. What business did Matilda have butting into personal stupidity? Sharing Everett between them, though? Really? Ha! Beatrix should've just taken him for her own and cursed the other girl into the form of a frog or something similar. That was the easiest, and thus the best solution, but alas, no. Beatrix and her softness...
The other sister intrigued Matilda, though. Some sultry demoness now, was she? Somewhat, though not entirely. She seemed curious and intriguing, almost like how Beatrix initially was. Dante might spoil her and make her into some weak thing, but Matilda thought she might be able to fix that. Odd, too, she contemplated whether she could use Dante to enhance it. She'd never thought of these things before in her original life, but her revival gave her an increased perspective.
And then there was...
"Matty," someone said to her.
She didn't want to be harangued, especially by incessant nonsense. This was exactly the reason why she'd holed herself up in the library, because hardly anyone should bother coming here. But they did, and they felt confident and comfortable enough in her presence that they could call her by a nickname? She'd teach them a lesson immediately.
Glancing up, Matilda saw a man wearing butler's garb and hoisting a platter with a tea kettle, cups, and a cream and sugar cube container. He looked familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.
And then she noticed the elegant pocketwatch stuck inside his breast pocket.
"Ah, the Timekeeper. You're here, too, are you?"
"You should remember," Horatio said. "Or has death addled your pretty little head?"
"You brought me back, did you? How often?"
"As often as I could," he said with a shrug. "Tea?" The butler set the platter on a side table nearby and began pouring a cup for each of them.
"This is the first time I've fully come beyond the grave," Matilda said, indifferent. "I'm sure I'll remember in time. Feel free to indulge me with tales of your shenanigans if you so wish, though."
Horatio tipped some cream into one of the tea cups, then plunked down two cubes of sugar. He handed it to her with a smile.
"I shouldn't tell you this," he said. "But when I'd twist you into existence, I told everyone you were a maid. You played the part wonderfully, too. Mostly. No one seemed to notice when you were absent, when your time had run out, but that made it all the more wonderful. Dante knew. You'll remember that, I'm sure. He'll wish to speak with you about it later, I'm certain."
"Was I Matilda then?" she asked. "Matty? That might've been too obvious, hm?"
"Darcy to most," Horatio said. "That's the name we settled on."
Matilda considered it before scrunching up her nose. "I don't care for it overly much."
Horatio shrugged. "I didn't care for the time you grew angry at me because Beatrix hadn't revived you yet, and then you slept with Master Everett when I refused to try and persuade her. I did tell you she'd do it eventually. You should listen better."
"It was supposed to be her first wish!" Matilda said. "Her first! Well, second real wish, I suppose. She needed immortality beforehand. I never really expected her to believe me when I said I'd do the same for her if she brought me back immediately. If she did then she'd just be an idiot and no true pupil of mine. I suppose the fact that she revived me at all makes her a terrible student, but I won't quibble over minor personality flaws."
"You're a difficult woman," he said. "I can somewhat understand her reticence. I knew she'd return you to us, though. Also, to be honest, I had an enjoyable time dressing you up in servant outfits. You likely wouldn't have let me do that otherwise, correct?"
"That's a question, isn't it? You want me to dress in some costume for your arousal? Why don't you twist that pocketwatch of yours and just make yourself young again, so we can do away with that necessity? You shouldn't need some stupid costume in order for me to get you erect. Go back to your prime, old man."
"I would," Horatio said, smirking while tipping cream and placing sugar into his own teacup. "I'd like to remain here, though. Generally I don't, but I find myself interested in Master Everett's future plans."
"Just stay and tell them you can control time on a whim with that little watch of yours. You always vanish off and take up residence somewhere else whenever you reset your age. It's annoying and bothersome. What if someone who didn't care about any of that wanted to find you? It's difficult, you know?"
"Who would that be?" Horatio asked with a grin.
"Shut up and sit beside me, you lecherous coot."
Matilda scooted aside in her chair, allowing Horatio a seat. It was close, perhaps too close, but she didn't mind it. He sat there, genteel and gentlemanly. Then not.
Turning to the side, lording over her with domineering intent, Horatio licked a trail up her neck, towards her ear, where he nibbled lightly on her earlobe. Beatrix tried to restrain herself, wanted to feign indiff
erence, but the Timekeeper knew her better than anyone. He could never give her true immortality before, but he gave her glimpses of it, and he offered her a look of nigh eternal youth, despite the fact that imminent death loomed around every the corner.
"I'll stay," he said, sending a wash of hot breath to tickle her ear. "We can be together now, and I'll stay, but I'd like to maintain my position within the mansion, Matty. Will you help me?"
Flustered, cheeks red, Matilda looked away from him. Unfortunately this revealed more of her neck, which he caressed lightly with his fingertips. "How?" she asked.
"We can explain to Everett and the sisters, but I'd prefer everyone else forget. If you do that for me, cast the spell to make them think I've always been young and dapper, I'll stay and please you whenever you wish."
"And..." Matilda started to speak, to potentially protest, but Horatio pawed at her breasts roughly with his time-worn hands. She gasped, eyes opening wide.
"Please, Matty?" he said.
"What," she said, labored, "makes you think I want your pleasure, Timekeeper?"
"You're the only one I've ever wanted, Matty. And I'm the only one who's ever pleased you."
"Not so," she said. "Beatrix is doing a good..."
"Like this," he said, throwing up the front of her dress and stuffing a greedy hand between her legs. His fingers snuck past her panties and plied at her delicate folds. "Not like that, Matty. Like this."
"Show me," she said, trying to maintain some modicum of demurity. "Show me and I'll consider it."
"I think we both already know I was planning on doing exactly that," he said.
He teased a finger inside of her, causing her to bite her bottom lip in excitement. "Why do you want to stay with them?" she asked. "They're just... mortals. Why would someone like you want to waste your time here?"
Horatio kissed the archwitch hard, forcing her body against the back of the chair while he teased and tormented her sex. "Fond attachment," he said. "It is what is, nothing more nor less. Why else do you think I'd bring you back occasionally after you died?"
Hunted: An Erotic Retelling of Beauty and the Beast (An Adult Fairy Tale Novel) Page 21