versez le sang, mes beaux amis

Agatha stared at the other girl sitting on top of her bed. She was also part of their coven; born into it just like she was. Evanora and the girl's mother got along as well as Evanora could get along with anybody and the two young girls had known one another since childhood.

Agatha smiled sweetly and the girl, Susannah, smiled just as sweetly back.

"Does your mother know you are here?"

"No, Agatha. She's in another village helping with a birth. Does your mother know I'm here?"

"No, Susannah."

They smiled again and felt their shoulders relax as the little room around them fell away to keep them together in secret.

"Can you show me that flower again, Agatha? That purple and green flower oh! It was so beautiful and smelled so sweet."

Agatha pretended to dust off her hands as she rubbed her palms back and forth at an odd angle before nodding her head in agreement. The flower she had produced to Susannah weeks ago had done its job.

Agatha pointed to the empty vase on her night table to draw Susannah's attention there and away from her as she worked her magic.

Agatha's mind filled with nothing but the intention of lowered inhibitions and lust. What she had as a young succubus also filled in to fill out the flower and the tinge of green on the tips of the petals was a gift from Rio.

The styles of the flower were thick all the way to the top where the stigma sat. Just as fat and just as round, it was coated with a deep orange pollen. The flower itself looked suggestive the longer one stared at it.

Susannah had boasted how beautiful it had looked the first time and basically shoved her nose past the petals to smell its overly sweet aroma.

Agatha could feel herself salivating.

The flower materialized in the vase and Susannah clapped for it. She spun her head to give Agatha a grin and a nod before she turned back to the vase to wrap her delicate fingers around it to help lean herself in.

Agatha watched in perversion as the girl brought her head down and pushed her nose in between the two petals to inhale deeply.

Agatha could feel her own cunt clench and her clit throb at the sight. Creating the flower also left a lingering sensation deep within herself; slightly aggressive and predatory. She wanted to devour Susannah whole but not to the point of death.

Agatha wanted to ruin the young girl. To soil her; strip her away of her purity.

Agatha had come so close the last time but the two girls were interrupted and Agatha, without a doubt, blamed her mother for that.

This time however, her mother was not here to surprise them with an interruption.

"How does it smell, Susannah?"

The young witch nods her head as she pulls it away. She moves as if she's had too much wine as her fingers reach for the edge of Agatha's bed to steady herself before she lifts a leg to take a seat. The effects of the pollen are almost instant and Agatha knows it's because she's been practicing her magic.

Susannah slumps to her side on the bed as her eyes glaze over; still trying to follow and look at Agatha. Her eyelids become heavy but she doesn't close them. The young witch stays in this state and will for as long as Agatha holds the spell.

"I asked you a question, witch. How does it smell?"

Susannah's mouth curls into a sleepy drunken smile as she slowly lifts her head. Her body follows as she sits there slumped. She hasn't stopped looking in Agatha's direction,

"Like you. Sweet...bitter...like a secret we must keep from everyone..."

"That's right, my little witch...that's right."

Agatha stands in the same spot she's been in since the flower appeared in the vase. She makes sure that Susannah's attention is still on her as she starts to undress. Her black and purple clothing falls away one layer at a time until she's standing there naked with only her boots left on. Agatha watches as Susannah sucks in a breath but doesn't let it out.

"Do you want me to be sweet with you, Susannah? Or bitter? You know what they say about me...that I can be both of those things..."

The witch shakes her head; confused from the question Agatha is asking. She has heard the rumors obviously; the way that Agatha has found her way to the Devil's book. The Darkhold. Too high above her station as a young witch; it has been off limits to even the most powerful of witches.

How Agatha got a hold of it and was able to learn from it eluded Susannah and she tried not to dwell on her friend being able to bend such power to her liking.

"Bitter first, Susannah...we can save the sweet for the end."

Agatha laments as she bends at her waist to unlace her boots. She takes them off with care and sets them beside the pile of clothes. Her young body is illuminated by the single candle that burns in its brass candlestick holder. Susannah watches Agatha as she creeps closer to her with hungry and curious eyes.

"Lift up your skirts..."

Agatha's voice is calm yet demanding as she stops at the edge of her bed. Susannah wastes no time even though her movements are slow and blocky; the effects of the pollen hang heavy over her. Agatha merely smiles as she watches the white and brown layers of skirts move upwards to reveal Susannah's long underwear. Agatha snatches the loose swatch of fabric to pull them down over Susannah's hips and legs until they bunch at her ankles. Susannah kicks them off until she's left bare on the bed.

"Such a pretty sight...such a pretty little thing for me...bitter first, little witch, do not forget..."

Agatha's voice is the only sound in the tiny bedroom as Susannah's breathing comes to a slow inhale and exhale. The pollen was much more potent this time around and Agatha is pleased with her new tweaked recipe.

She climbs up onto her bed and settles herself in between Susannah's legs. She pushes them outwards until she's perfectly parallel. Agatha sits upright on her knees as she stares Susannah down before her and makes sure her partner's eyes are trained on her.

"Watch...keep your eyes on me..."

Agatha's wrist moves in a semi circle motion and her fingers bend and curve downwards towards herself. Her body begins to take shape and reform into something that is not her own. An attachment by magic but not naturally belonging to her. Susannah watches on with a bemused expression that quickly, to Agatha's trained eye, turns to a look of lust.

Agatha's hand and fingers move once again and in an instant, Susannah has her legs bent by the knee with her feet planted firmly down on Agatha's mattress. She places her head back down onto Agatha's pillow and holds onto the folds of her skirts.

She is Agatha's plaything; something for the witch to practice with. She is merely a vessel for Agatha's magic and whims that are far too advanced for her. Susannah becomes a placeholder for all the things Agatha dares not speak to anyone about which includes Rio.

The witch feels that there is something inside of her that is inherently evil and so, maybe her mother had always been right about her.

She shifts her body and moves Susannah's along with her own so that she has easy access. With the adjustment, Agatha is able to slide her cock into Susannah's cunt.

Agatha simply wants to know what it feels like; how it felt like for Rio to enter into her in such a way.

Susannah's body reacts like hers did with Rio; shaping and contorting and pulsing around her flesh. Agatha groans as she moves her hips forwards and then back. She feels the way Susannah's muscles clench tight around her girth and already tries to milk her.

She's not interested in getting this young witch pregnant.

At least, not tonight.

Agatha's memories drift back to those many evenings and early mornings with Rio deep inside of her. It felt very much like this in some ways. Physically but not emotionally; Agatha knew she and Susannah were not meant for one another.

This was all a test of some sort. A dip into magical abilities and how far Agatha could stretch them before she hit her limit.

She grabbed onto Susannah's legs to wrap around her waist as she thrusted in deeper, harder. The young witch moaned and panted and tried to scratch her dirty nails down Agatha's bare arms. Agatha allowed her of course in a way to bring some sort of normalcy to the entire act.

She didn't want the girl to spew to everyone else that Agatha was using dark magic to fuck her way through the coven.

"Do you feel that, Susannah? Every single inch of me? How deep can you take me before you split right down the middle?"

Agatha is met with Susannah's ankles locking together as her legs pull Agatha closer towards her body; deeper inside of her as she really does take every inch.

Agatha can feel her magic wanting to diminish with each powerful thrust of her hips. She knows this is from Susannah reacting to the act; the way her body is trying to take from Agatha instead of giving.

Maybe Agatha should get the young witch pregnant to teach her a lesson.

Agatha pulls out from Susannah and hears the witch panting harder; watches her nostrils flare in frustration. Agatha's left hand shoots down to grab hold of her girth. She uses her hand to lift and drop her cock onto Susannah's pussy; slapping down onto the wet and puffed lips as she comes on her. Agatha watches the semi-opaque liquid catch and stick to Susannah's pubic hair and run down her skin; down her thighs as it chases her curves.

The young witch tries to catch her breath as she wipes away at her sweaty forehead. It sounds like she's choking as she gulps for air. Agatha smirks at her in silence as she uses her hand to help guide herself back into the witch with a single thrust.

"A...Agatha...please..."

"What do you need?"

Susannah shifts herself up slightly and Agatha can see that her eyelids are still low from the pollen. Her hands reach forwards and Agatha can see the shadows dance upon her. Those fingers and palms find their way to Agatha's bare breasts and cup them from underneath. Agatha bites back a sense of pleasure; pulling her upper body back so it can't be touched.

She doesn't want companionship from this girl.

She wants power; craves knowledge.

Susannah's walls flutter around Agatha's cock and Agatha can no longer hold back her power.

Her body relaxes and releases and Susannah's is close to follow.

Agatha feels the sweet warmth surrounding her and she sighs from how it feels against her skin. Warm and hot and sticky and Agatha feels like she's suddenly drunk. She comes inside of the young witch and her mind instantly scolds her about how the hell she'll have to tell Rio that she fathered a child.

Agatha doesn't let Susannah bask in this feeling for too long as she pulls out once again and allows the rest of her cum to squirt and dribble and drop onto Susannah's inner thighs and abdomen below her belly button.

Agatha dares to look up at the young witch before her; to her face that's flushed and hot and covered in a sheen of sweat.

Agatha wants to lick every inch of the witch and taste her; to feel the salt on her tongue and the pleasure that has bloomed.

She won't. She can't. She's not allowed to give her heart to others.

Stealing herself away, Agatha grabs the edge of Susannah's skirt to clean herself up before she pulls away and off of her bed. Susannah lays there still as she comes down from her orgasm-high. Her gaze slowly travels to the right to find Agatha and to focus on her face.

"You are something else, Agatha Harkness..."

Agatha simply nods and does not speak. She has been told this sentiment all her life. It never means anything good.

"What about the sweetness? You said bitter and sweet would come my way tonight?"

Agatha nods a second time as she flicks her wrist and creates a claw with her fingers.

The flower in the vase browns and droops; the petals falling down onto the table top.

The spell is over; broken. There is no more pollen in the air.

Coldness washes over the tiny bedroom and Agatha can feel her entire body prickle with goosebumps. The flame of the candle snuffs out and the room becomes eerily silent.

Susannah lays still on the bed.

Agatha watches in knowing as the shadows still move across her walls and a full figure appears at the side of her bed. The flower reverts back; full of colour and pollen.

Agatha smiles as she crosses her arms over her chest.

"...Take her, my love...and then we can have our fun..."

Agatha whispers into the dark room at her lover who stands over the dead girl. Rio's body hand comes down to wipe at the young witch's brow. She is helping the poor thing cross over until suddenly both Susannah and Rio are gone.

It feels like days; it feels like seconds.

Rio is back, alone.

"I promised her sweetness. Death is sweet, isn't it?"

Agatha moves closer to Rio and reaches out for the bony hand to hold in her own. Warmth against cold, smooth against rough.

It is Agatha now who is seated and eventually laid out onto the bed.

She can still feel the warmth of Susannah's body underneath her; the stickiness and wetness that is left behind.

Agatha knows with Rio that she will receive the sweetness she desires, that she deserves.

Agatha spreads her legs and bends her knees and waits for Rio just like she's done countless nights and early mornings and hopes she will for all of eternity.

Power and magic and sex fulfill Agatha but none of it can compare to how Rio makes her feel.

Desired. Wanted. Needed.