You sit alone in your darkened apartment, phone in hand, heart racing. You shouldn’t do this. It’s wrong, depraved. But the craving claws at your insides. The need to submit, to surrender to a power beyond your own.
With a shaky breath, you answer the glowing screen. Tabitha’s husky voice slips into your ear, honeyed poison.
“Much as I expected,” she purrs. “You’re aching for me, aren’t you? Drenched and throbbing, so desperate to be used.”
An involuntary moan escapes your throat. Your nipples strain against your shirt as slick arousal soaks your panties. You’re already on fire and she’s barely touched you.
“Not yet,” Tabitha scolds playfully. “We’re going to make you wait. Make those needy little holes of yours weep for it.”
The phone screen pulses, throwing eldritch shadows on the walls. You feel roots of thorny magic sink into your wrists and ankles, invisible chains binding you. Keeping you still and helpless for whatever the witch has in store.
“Mmm, I can see your pulse hammering in your throat,” Tabitha croons, voice dripping with wicked amusement. “Do you want to come for me, my sweet little puppet? Beg me.”
The command sears your brain like a brand. All rational thought dissolves, leaving only the primal need to please her. Your mouth works soundlessly, desperate to form the words before the incantation takes hold.
“Please,” you whimper, tears of frustrated hunger pricking your eyes. “Please, Mistress. I need it. I’ll do anything.”
“Good girl. You may touch yourself now.”
The shackles release. Your hands fly to your body, fingers plunging into drowned silk. You’re so empty. The ache is unbearable. You’re a toy, a vessel for her pleasure. And God, it feels so good to be controlled.
Tabitha’s breathy chuckles reverberate through you as she listens to your desperate writhing. “Pinch those pert nipples. Twist them until the pain makes you clench. Imagine my fingers, my teeth.”
Pleasure-pain sparks through your forebrain. You squeeze the stiff peaks, toes curling at the intensity. Broken mewls fall from your lips as she walks you higher on brittle threads of sensation.
“Now the other. Rub that aching clit in tight circles. Fight it, edgy and frustrated. You can’t come yet.”
Electric ecstasy dances along your nerves. You’re balanced on a knife’s edge, quivering, panting. She winds you tighter and tighter, an infernal puppeteer pulling your strings.
Your thighs quiver and strain. The coil inside winds to a unbearable peak, ready to snap any second. All it would take is the witch’s command. Her permission. Her mercy.
“Come for me,” Tabitha hisses. “Now. Let go. Let me feel you come undone…”
The dam breaks. Your back bows, a ragged scream tearing from your throat. Wild, brutal, almost violent in its intensity. Tabitha’s laugh follows you over the edge, dark and gloating, as you shatter into ruinous ecstasy.
The phone slips from your fingers, forgotten. You’re lost in the aftershocks, shaking and mewling, so thoroughly used. Outside, unholy embers cool and fade.
In the darkness, Tabitha’s voice caresses your ear one last time.
“Till next time, my sweet puppet. Till next time…”