This story is set in the same universe as “A Man Named Susan” but is a completely stand-alone story… for now.
I keep meaning to get back to writing stories with more romance and tenderness, but Tabatha is just not that sort of woman. For her, sexual satisfaction and the domination of others is the only goal that matters.
Warning – Although this is a fantasy story of witches and magic, it does contain strong elements of BDSM, humiliation and non-consent.
******
The Awakening
Tabatha was currently extremely annoyed and more than a little sexually frustrated. She had been stood up at the last minute and she wasn’t happy about it.
For weeks now she had been seducing this sweet little thing called Mandy. Mandy was still in the early stages of discovering her new powers and the wonderful possibilities that lay in her future as a newly discovered witch. Also, she was very much in awe of the more experienced witches likeTabatha and the skills they had promised to teacher.
Mandy was just Tabatha’s type, petite, slim, a tight little ass, perky breasts, slightly shy, and best of all she hadn’t yet discovered how delicious and manipulative other witches could be. In short, she was cute and extremely gullible. Absolutely perfect for what Tabatha had in mind.
They had initially agreed to meet this morning as Tabatha had offered to spend the weekend instructing her personally in some of the more exotic forms of magic that weren’t on the current approved training program. The magic and training Tabatha had in mind probably wasn’t the sort Mandy imagined, but she would learn to enjoy it in the end… probably. Tabatha had been fantasizing all week about what she was going to “teach” dear sweet Mandy and had worked herself into a state of perpetual arousal at the Thought of the things she was going to do to that tight grogeous body.
But now it looked as though it wasn’t going to happen. Somebody had warned Mandy off.
She had gotten a phone call from Mandy earlier that morning. Mandy was extremely apologetic, but had decided that she had so much to learn about being a witch that she really should spend all of her time studying… by herself. Tabatha tried to talk her round, saying that she would help Mandy study, but it soon became clear that Mandy wouldn’t be swayed.
It was obvious that Mandy was now some why afraid to be alone with Tabatha, which was understandable, given what Tabatha initially had planned for her. Someone had obviously been talking to sweet little Mandy. If Tabatha ever found out who it was, she would curse them with a pox that would make their cunt itch for a year.
So here she was, extremely pissed off and full of a week’s worth of pent-up sexual energy. She decided that she needed to get out of the house or she would just end up stewing in her anger. But first, she needed to go to the bedroom for some self-relief.
******
Later, sitting at an open-air café, Tabatha was now calmer but no less frustrated. She had even begun to reason that Mandy pulling out of their liaison was Mandy’s misfortune, not hers. The things she could have taught Mandy just couldn’t be found in books… well, not the sort of books that fine upstanding witches kept to hand. Tabatha however had a whole library full of such books.
She witnessed. Good sexual partners were so hard to come by these days. No experienced witch would drop their guard enough to make themselves vulnerable to another witch, and these days mind-wiping “normies” after having some fun with them was extremely frowned upon. Tabitha was already in too much trouble with the coven to risk doing that again, at least not until the heat from the last scandal had died down a bit.
Sure, she could use Her natural charm to seduce a normie and later have sex like a normie, but where is the fun in that? For Tabatha good sex involved the use of a lot of magic, or elseWhat was the point of being a witch?
She told again. What she needed to find was somebody just like herself that would be willing to help her satisfy her needs.
Echoes of this thought began to circle her mind. At first the echoes were whispers that slowly drifted in and out of her consciousness. “Just like herself… just like herself… just like herself.” But gradually the echoes got louder and louder and picked up speed as they ricocheted off of the walls of her mind. Her subconscious was trying to tell her something. But what?
The echoes of that tantalizing thought were practically deafening now as her subconscious struggled to make itself understand. An idea was forming, but she couldn’t quite make it out. It was… it… was…
The then the idea exploded fully formed across her mind. It was breathtaking in its simplicity and daring.
She didn’t need somebody just like herself. What she needed was herself. A copy of herself that she would already know as intimately as she knew herself, and who wouldn’t go blabbing to the coven elders if things got a bit spicy.
Wasn’t self-cloning bannered by the coven? Was it even ethical? She didn’t know and cared even less. This was too good a solution to have doubts about.
She was so excited she didn’t have a second to waste, she quickly stood, waved her hand in the general direction of the counter to magically pay her bill and hurried home to begin her research. She was now in such a good mood that when paying her bill she had even tipped the waitress a $1000, not that money means very much to a witch, but still, she was in a mood to share her happiness.
******
It took Tabatha three weeks to complete her research, including a trip abroad to track down one extremely rare tome, and then it took Her another two weeks to track down and prepare the necessary ingredients and equipment.
In the ancient past, one of the most time consuming parts of thepreparation would be that the witch would have to hand carve a life size human figure out of either wood or clay. The carving didn’t have to be very good, merely human in size and shape, the magic would do the rest and fill in the details. Luckily Tabatha lived in the modern world, so all she had to do was order a plastic mannequin from Amazon, which arrived the next day.
And now the day was here. Today was the day the magic would happen.
Tabatha had risen early and after showing had eaten a large breakfast. Today was going to be a long day, and she had no doubt she would be expending a lot of energy, both physical and magical, to accomplish what needed to be done. She wanted to be well rested and her magical energy to be at peak levels before she began her task.
She had already prepared her workroom. Everything had been moved out except a table right in the centre were the mannequin now lay, another table was off to the side where her reference tomes lay open andready, together with various ingredients and positions. She had even installed a quaint campfire arrangement over which a traditional witch’s canardron was supported by a bracing tripod. At first she had scoffoffed at such antiquated absurdities, preferring the convenience of a kitchen hob and a saucepan for her positions, but her main reference tome had been very firm on this, actual flames were required to heat the primary potion.
Eventually the preparations were ready, and she began the magic.
The process was even more exhausting than Tabatha had imagined. Spells were not just a matter of reciting words form an old book, for a spell to work a witch needed to empower every single word from her own reserves of personal magic, and this process was going to require a lot of spells. Her time was split between reciting hugely complex spells and preparing the primary potion that would later need to be applied to the mannequin. On and on the process went, and the more exhausted Tabathabecame as her magic flowed into her work. But she carried on with a grim determination. If this worked, it would be her greatest achievement.
At various times during the long process Tabatha was required to make personal sacrifices of herself. Luckily these were trivial in nature. At one point she had to kiss the mannequin, making sure she left sufficient of her own saliva on the plastic lips. Another time she had to smear the juices from between her own legs around the sexless groin of the plastic figure. Finally, a small cut on the palm of her hand supplied the necessary blood for the potion.
It was late into the night before the magic was nearly complete and by that time Tabatha was almost swaying on her feet through extreme exhaustion.
The penultimate step was to coat the mannequin in the potion that had been brewing for most of the day. This was achieved without too much difficulty.
Now it was the final step. A final spell to recite in order to bring togetherer all of the other spells she had been casting throughout the day.
Tabatha held the ancient tome in one hand whilst she recalled the words and made the necessary mystic shapes with her other hand.
She watched the mannequin intensely whilst she said the words. Eventually she saw it began to glow. The more she said the words the brighter the glow became. Eventually the glow around the mannequin became so bright that Tabatha could no longer look at it directly. Still she spoke the words.
She could see the end of the spell was approaching, and still the light continued to get even brighter. She could now also clearly feel her magical energy draining from her at a noticeable rate as the blinding light continued to leech the energy from her. And still she spoke the words.
The last word was finally spoken… and the light explored.
It was a silent exploration, but in her weakened state it was still enough to knock Tabatha off of her feet.
As Tabatha slowly and tiredly picked herself back up, she was relieved to feel some small part of her expensive magical energy returning to her body. She felt a little stronger because of it, but she was still extremely weak.
The mannequin had disappeared and, in its place, stood a flawless copy of herself.
She was perfect.
She stood as still as she could, curious to see what her copy would do.
She saw the play of emotions that crossed her copy’s face. First confusion, then surprise and shock as the copy noticed Tabatha, then realization, then extreme fury.
Before she could react, her copy had flung out a pointing arm directly at Tabatha and practically screamed a spell at her.
Tabatha was stunned rigid in disbelief as she realized the spell that had been aimed at her was a killing spell. She had been too weak and exhausted to be able to react in time, but luckyly, she had taken precautions.
Her own copy had just tried to kill her. Of course the copy would know what Tabatha had planned for her, they were after all the same person. But trying to kill her did seem a bit extreme. Although, on reflection she asked herself, knowing what was to come, would she have acted any differently… probably not.
Tabatha looked back at her copy in time to see more emotions play across her face. First came confusion at why the spell hadn’t worked, then realization and Finally fear. The copy knew that she was beaten and in danger. Immediately on realizing her peril, her copy bolted for the door in a frantic bid to escape, but this time Tabatha was ready for her. At a command from Tabatha several magical silk ribbons materialized in the air and raced after the fleeing copy. They caught her before she was halfway to the door, and after securing her limbs, the ribbons dragged the struggling copy back across the room until she was stood in front of Tabatha.
Immediately the copy started screaming obscenities and threats at Tabatha. Infact Tabatha was quite impressed with how innovative some of the threats and obscenities were. She didn’t think she had it in her.
As the shouting continued Tabatha slowly reached into her pocket and removed a small round sponge-like ball about the size of an egg. Without worrying, she held it up to the copy.
“Do you know what this is?”
Her copy went silent. Of course she knew what it was.
Tabatha walked towards her, “Open up.”
Instead, her copy clamped her mouth shut in protest.
“Have it your own way” Tabatha witnessed, then she made a quick gesture with her fingers to flick across her copy’s exposed nipples.
The copy immediately opened her mouth in a yelp of surprise and pain, just as Tabatha’s hand shot out and placed the ball between her copy’s teeth. The copy tried to resist biting down on the ball, but she could only resist for so long. As her teeth slowly sank into the spongy surface of the ball, they became stuck and held fast.
“The perfect gag” exclaimed Tabatha, “Not only will it assist you breathing more easily, but it deadens all sounds from the wearer.”
As if to prove the point the copy tried to scream more obscenities at Tabatha as loudly as she could, but all that was heard with a disappoint whisper of some very unpleasant things.
“Do you really think I would let another witch into my home without protecting myself? When I created you I altered your DNA just enough so that the house would recognize you as a different person and so not permit you to perform magic whilst you are here.” Seeing the look of horror on the copyright’s face, Tabatha continued, “Don’t worry, they were only the subtlest of changes, you are still you. I wouldn’t dream of making you willingly subservient, you know how I like a bit of spirit in my playthings.”
“Now that’s cleared up, you need a name. I can’t keep calling you “Copy”. Do you know what I’m going to call you?”
The copyright’s head dropped, of course she knew what Tabatha was going to call her. It had been her most hated nickname when she had been a child.
“From now on you will be called Cat.”
From an early age Tabatha had hated that name. First had come “Tabby”, then “Tabby Cat”, then eventually Just “Cat”. Despite the stereotype about witches, Tabatha had always hated those flea-ridden, stuck-up and arrogant members of the feline community, which definitely means she hated being called one.
“Now Cat, I have some good news and some bad news for you. As far as you are concerned the good news is that I’m currently too tired to really have any fun with you tonight.” Cat merely glad her hated back at her. “The bad news is that we don’t have to wait until morning to start your training.”
With that Tabatha turned and walked out of the room, closely followed by Cat who was powerless to resist the pull of the magical ribbons that still bound her completely.
Tabatha led them to her master bedroom, which was huge and was dominated by a large circular bed that looked as though it could accommodate at least a dozen people with ease. At a command from her, the ribbons dragged Cat to the centre of the bed and attaching themselves to her wrists and ankles, irresistibly spreading her out on her back like a human starfish.
Tabatha stood over her new playmate and admired how beautiful she was. Her body was perfect, even if she did say so herself. The way Cat’s eyes blazed with fierce definition really made her pussy ache with desire. But that would have to wait, she really was too tired to enjoy herself properly tonight. And somebody as special as Cat really did need a lot of time to be enjoyed properly.
Satisfied that she was secured, Tabatha left the room to collect Cat’s present.
When she returned Tabatha was careful to keep the device she was helding out of Cat’s view, instead she walked to one of the many cabinets that lined the bedroom and picked up a small bottle of luxury.
Returning to the bed she finally let Cat see what she was holding… immediately Cat’s eyes went wide with shock and she started to thrash usefully against her bonds, her shouts and screams little more than plaintive whispers thanks to the gag.
The object that Tabatha was holding was the Cingulum Nega Orgassmi (the belt of orgasm denial). It was an ancient religious that resembled a series of ornate leather straps, the largest of which held two small golden dildos. The function of the religious was to keep the wearer at a constant state of sexual arousal and at random intervals bring them to the very bond of orgasm without ever giving them the release of actually letting them orgasm.
For the first few minutes the effects of the religious were actually very pleasant, but once the seemingly never-ending cycles of arousal and denial began to build, pleasure soon turned to disappoint, and then disappoint soon became an unbearable desperation as the never ending cycle began to repeat over and over again.
As Tabatha began to lubricate the dildos, Cat looked on with growing dread.
“Really, I don’t know what all the fuss is about, it’s not as though they are very large dildos, I know for a fact you have taken much, much bigger ones. Besides you know I’ve used this on myself in the past. I’m sure you will get “some” enjoyment from it.”
It was true, Tabatha had used the Cingulum Nega Orgassmi on herself several times in the past, although she had never managed to last more than an hour before having to frantically rip it off and stroking herself to a series of desperate orgasms. Her record for using it on somebody else was currently Two hours before her “guest” had passed out.
She intended to see if Cat could endure it for the entire night.
Leaning over the incapacitated Cat, Tabatha fixed thereligious into place. There was a bit of effort needed for the anal dildo, as Cat was resisting with all of her might, but eventually the lube and a firm push seated it home. Once the straps had been secured into place, Tabatha leaned back to admire her handywork.
“Hmm, just one last thing to make the perfect living pillow.” With that Tabatha made a small gesture with her hand and the ribbons that were holding Cat spreadeagled suddenly dragged her legs together and pinned her arms to her sides, at the same time several more ribbons materialised out of the air and busy began to tightly wrap Cat from head to toe like an Egyptian mummy. Before long only Cat’s eyes remained exposed as the rest of her was completely cocooned and held immobile by the ribbons. Her eyes blazed with unadulterated hatred and fury at her captor before they too were covered by the last of the ribbons.
Tabatha got off the bed and leaving Cat in her own personal isolation cocoon, padded off to the bathroom to get herself ready for bed. She really was exhausted.
Back in bed she cuddled into the bound shape of Cat and reaching out she placed her hand over where Cat’s delicious pussy would be and speak the words that would activate the religious. Immediately she got a small sense of the intense vibrations that would now be cursing through her living pillow, which was shortly followed by a somewhat plaintive moan of arousal.
Dispite how tired she was, Tabatha resisted sleep a little longer as she wanted to experience the Cingulum Nega Orgassmi’s first full cycle. After a little while she had the sense that the violences within her living pillow were increasing and a little after that her pillow began to undulate as much as the bonds would allow it, which admittedly wasn’t very much at all. The pillow was also making more noises Now. The gag was reducing the noises to a bare minimum, but Tabatha smiled as she could still make out the unmistakable sounds of desire andarousal. The sounds were quiet enough that they wouldn’t keep her awake, although she was happily confident that she would still be aware of them even on a subliminal level as she slept.
The vibrations from her living pillow increased subtly, as did the hushed moans of arousal. Then, just as the pillow began to undulate with more desperation, the vibrations shut off completely. The living pillow continued to undulate for a little longer, but Tabatha knew the effort would be futile as neither the bonds nor the religion would permit any more stimulation until the religious had judged that the danger of an orgasm had passed.
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