Britwitch's Cottage

[Miss_Vivi]

Those blue eyes open ever so slowly, and then she takes in exactly where she is.

"What's going on...?" That tremulous little voice, matching some of the fear in her eyes, and I, I just drink that up with a smile. I would say something, but the question it seems has already been answered.

Leaning down, I place a sweet kiss upon those red lips and then I move away from her, not really bothering to smooth out my skirt or jacket as I stand. Finally, I look over at Scuttle with a rather large mischievous grin.

"Well, good sir, since she's awake and I'm a sporting lass, I give the floor to you. Even money says you can't make her scream first." An eyebrow raised and a challenge delivered.

It couldn't be helped, even he can be toyed with.

 

[Britwitch]

"Happening? Nothing yet, little Witch. Except that you are now ours."

An unexpected voice from an unexpected location making my head fly to the side, eyes widening further. Then I turn back to her, to that smile. Knowing and dangerous and yet so damned tempting.
The lips lower and press against mine, I'm still too much in shock to really respond and before I know it, she's gone.

"Well, good sir, since she's awake and I'm a sporting lass, I give the floor to you. Even money says you can't make her scream first."

My mind is racing, almost as quickly as my heart.
Pointlessly I pull with my limbs once more. Wrists and ankles are anchored somehow. I can feel from the ripples of goosebumps that I am no longer fully dressed although with some small measure of relief I can still feel underwear concealing at least a little of me.

"...scream...?"

I murmur, muscles tensing as eyes flicker from one to the other.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

His attention shifts from the Witch to the other as she stands, and he can't help but to grin, his weight lifting off the wall at last.

"I do love a nice competition. You're on."

With a nod, and not a single consideration given to whether or not the one bound before them wants to be part of the game, he turns not to her, but to the assortment of... tools... laid out for them. His eyes sweep across, taking quick stock, but he already knows what he's after and it is in his hand a moment later.

Two steps take him to the side of the bed, and strips of leather are against pale and freckled skin, climbing up the length of one thigh, swept across a mound still covered by thin fabric, and then brushing down across the other thigh.

"But first," he says during this, "Let's say we clear some of the cobwebs away."

And then, the flogger reveals itself fully, a sharp sound filling the air around them as it is brought with more than a little force to meet the Witch's belly.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

He agrees to the competition and I can't help the chuckle. For a moment the Witch is forgotten in our little battle of wills. But then he turns and takes in the tools that I had set out.

The flogger is an excellent choice, though I much prefer my hands when I'm warming up a new toy, nevertheless I cannot help but be impressed at both the confidence in his manner and, of course watching the leather caress our bound beauty.

I almost wince at the first strike, I know what the falls of a flogger feels like and my impression of Scuttle grows slightly as I watch him expertly redden her. It's one of my favorite things to watch actually. A confident dominant man and his prey, sexy as hell. Too bad he didn't wear a suit.

I wait for those pleading begging, screaming words to fall from Brit's lips. Knowing that it's only a matter of time before they do.

 

[Britwitch]

"I do love a nice competition. You're on."

Panic starts to ramp up now. Stomach tightening as he moves from the wall and towards something. My eyes follow his and widen further still as they see the array of...devices before him.

Arms and legs pull pointlessly against bonds. Not expecting to escape but needing to feel they at least tried.

There is a gasp as something crawls over skin. Teasing almost, over thigh, across apex and back down. Brow furrows, trying to identify what it might be.

"But first, let's say we clear some of the cobwebs away."

There isn't time to even think of questioning...or pleading. Eyes spot the flogger as it arcs through the air only a split second before it bestows a sharp and vicious kiss to my stomach. Body tenses, a sharp and loud hiss is drawn through clenched teeth as skin stings. Heat following, spreading, almost instantly making me wince.

Reality starting to dawn. The realisation that I could have said no. That perhaps I should.

But then, would it really have made any difference...?

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

A hiss from her, and then the sound of her breathing, louder than theirs to his ears, is the only sound for a moment. A glance is cast in the direction of the one watching, his upper lip pulling a bit into a mixture of slight snarl and slight grin, and then his attention is devoted to the Witch laid out before him again.

"Better... but we're not quite there yet."

It is said almost to himself, and he lays the flogger on her then, the handle across her reddening belly, the strips of leather extending down, ending against and between her thighs. His body leans over hers, fingers curling in and the backs of them brushing light against her cheek, his own cheek meeting the other. And he whispers.

"Struggle for me, little Witch. You look so delicious and helpless when you do."

A single, low rumble of laughter, and he straightens. Fingers brush against her red skin as the flogger is lifted, and once again it meets her skin in a swift strike, this time across firm thighs and dangerously close to her sex.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

I am silent in my appraisal of him, though my arms cross over my chest as I watch them. The Witch is glorious in her bindings, her breath has quickened and her chest heaves with both panic and excitement. I can see the slight sheen of sweat break out over her body as she attempts to exert control over the pain that dances over her reddened skin.

Well, if she is sweating, he might as well join her.

I cross the room and move to his side. Close enough to be in his space, but not close enough to hamper his movements. I don't touch him, at least not yet. Just silent judgement from right over his shoulder.

Poor man, surrounded by women. Some of them more dangerous than others.

His form is excellent, and the slap of the falls on her skin delicious. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't doing anything for me. Despite my stance and judgement, they are both immensely enjoyable.

 

[Britwitch]

"Better... but we're not quite there yet."

I feel the flogger resting upon me before he draws closer. I shrink back, as much as I can, almost wincing as his hand moves towards my face. But the contact it brings is unexpectedly gentle...which oddly makes it all the more frightening.

"Struggle for me, little Witch. You look so delicious and helpless when you do."

The laugh is enough to prompt me into responding. Another hiss as his hand glances over warmed stomach.

"Please...please you don't-"

I don't get to finish, although in all honesty I don't entirely know what I was planning to say or what I hoped it would achieve.

Another sting, a different target, and this time a howl leaves my lips. Part pain, part relief that it wasn't a more delicate area that was his focus. This time the sting radiating over thighs.

Arms and legs pull now, knowing that this is only the start of goodness knows what. Body struggling as much as it can upon the bed. Cheeks pale with panic, eyes bright with the same. Underwear clad chest swaying and rocking as a result.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

It's gripped in his hand still, a cobra ready to strike at any moment, but it is still as Vivi approaches him. His attention is drawn back to the Witch as she struggles anew, eyes narrowing, watching her closely, waiting...

"Mm.. there."

When her muscles are tense, straining, that is when he strikes again, rattling the air again as the flogger finds a belly already reddened, a slight nod of satisfaction at the reaction this achieves.

His attention drifts from the Witch again, a wicked little grin that sends a fire into his eyes when he turns to look to the other over his shoulder.

"Perhaps she might like a more... feminine touch?"

There's a slight smirk at this, the knowledge that her predicament will grow no less in this, and then the flogger is laid on the bedside table... not in his hand, but still lurking, dangerously close.

"We need a knife."

It's all he says, there is no further expanding on why he might, and he disappears from the room to retrieve the large, and rather sharp, chef's knife he knows is in her kitchen.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

"Perhaps she might like a more... feminine touch?"

I catch the glint in his eye and can't help the small giggle that bubbles up.

"We need a knife."

The flogger is down and he's off to the kitchen to gather other necessary implements that will entice sexier sounds from our toy.

For my part, I feel only pity for the heaving witch upon the bed. I say pity, of course, when that's not really the half of it. I kneel next to the bed armed only with a glass of ice that I had set down earlier and my nails.

"Oh my darling witch, you mustn't struggle too much." I coo softly to her, while my nails drag over her reddened sensitive skin.

"We all know that you wish to be treated as such." One hand dips into the glass to retrieve a piece of ice that is at once slid over taut nipples still hiding behind fabric.

"It's okay to ask for more, my sweet witch." The ice slides down and over a tight, warm thigh.

"See, we will take care of our needy little toy" My crimson nails join the parade of ice over heated skin.

It's not as flashy as the flogger, or a deadly as the knife, but by her blended words and moans the effect is almost as strong. I glance up as he returns from the kitchen and lean closer to her, my whisper just bare enough that he most likely will not hear it.

"Look at how hard you've made him, my sweet. Beg for him. Beg for more."

Through a haze of pain and pleasure, I know she hears me.

 

[Britwitch]

"Mm.. there."

A cry this time. High pitched and slightly abrupt as leather snakes down across stomach. Body rising slightly from upon the sheets, a shaky breath drawn as that tingling heat creeps once against across my flesh.

"Perhaps she might like a more... feminine touch?"

My breathing is hard and so his comment is almost missed. Almost.

"We need a knife."

Through the discomfort his words register and he leaves my field of vision. A knife?!
More pulling, more struggling and a panicked whine as I achieve very little.

"Oh my darling witch, you mustn't struggle too much."

The words and tone are soft but they are anything but comforting. A soft whine this time as I feel fingernails graze the heated skin he's left behind.

"We all know that you wish to be treated as such."

I want to deny it, to say that I hate it, but the minute the ice begins to dance over my nipples I'm rendered all but mute. Stiff peaks tensing further. Skin puckering around the base of each. My back rising from the bed once more as they tingle and pulse beneath the chill.

"It's okay to ask for more, my sweet witch."

The ice leaves my chest but wet, icy cold wet, fabric still clings to each nipple. Continuing the delicious discomfort even as the cube finds a new target. I hear myself hiss as the cold meets the heat of the flogged flesh, the feeling intense and yet oddly pleasurable.

"See, we will take care of our needy little toy"

My eyes flutter closed for a few moments. Enjoying the coolness, even when icy drips escape and roll down my sides. Then her voice comes again. Close. Dangerously close.

"Look at how hard you've made him, my sweet. Beg for him. Beg for more."

My eyes open and I can't help but look. Cheeks flushing that I would care, that I would show that I do. My eyes rise from his crotch to his face and the flush to my cheeks increases. Nipples push lewdly into the wet fabric that hides them for now. Untouched I am sure that the fabric between my legs is not as dry as it once was. Perhaps she is more right than I want to admit.

Tongue moistening lips before a quiet voice leaves them.

"Please...please...I want...I want more..."

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

He returns to find her shifting and writhing beneath the touch of another, ice and fingernails replacing leather and impact. In his hand, catching and recasting the light in the room, is a well-balanced and large knife, full tang and ending in a sharp point. He'd taken a moment longer than necessary in her kitchen, discovering a sharpening steel that he swiped the blade across a few times, just to ensure maximum sharpness. Easy slicing.

She is wet, and he suspects it is in more ways than one. His eyes meet those of the one who has wet the fabric of what little she still wears, making the hardness of her nipples more prominent than they might otherwise be. He watches her whisper to the bound Witch, catching only a word or two of it... hard... beg... and he moves around to the other side of the bed, watching her eyes as move from his jeans to his face, and he meets her gaze without comment. Her words, however...

"More?" His brows arch, head tilting slightly, a look of curiosity that dissolves into a grin born of something other than good humor.

"Perhaps."

He bends over her a bit then, the knife flashing as it moves, over her body, between her breasts, and then a swipe severs the connection between the cups of her bra.

"If you're good," he continues, his attention moving lower, his free hand gripping the thin fabric of her panties, pulling it up off her, tight against her.

"Or maybe we'll just take what we please from you."

Swipe. The fabric that reaches around the hip opposite where he stands is split in two, the blade making short work of exposing her more fully to them.

"Maybe I don't give a single fuck what you want."

He pulls as the blade slices through on the other side, clothing now useless as it's torn from her. The ruined fabric is dropped carelessly at his feet, and his hand returns between her thighs, fingertips moving against her as his eyes shift to look at her face.

"But maybe, if you beg nicely, you can convince me to care..."

Fingers lift from her, and a slap of his hand, firm but not hard, replaces them against her.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

From my place on the floor next to the bed, I watch his movements opposite me, his words falling over both our ears, though unlike her I see the cold determination in his eyes, that hard glint of pleasurable pain it's matched in the knife that makes quick short work of the remaining bits of her clothes.

Soundlessly, I change tactics, keeping an eye on his movements, making sure they happen in tandem.

It's my favorite game.
Confuse the nerve endings, till you cannot tell where pain begins and pleasure ends.

His hand comes down forcefully upon her slit at the same moment my lips closed around her now exposed nipple. Slipping my tongue around it, feeling it harden even further between my lips. My hands find the other and I tease her while keeping an eye on him.

 

[Britwitch]

I see the knife and my heart's rhythm falters momentarily. I don't think I believe he intends to hurt but the fact that it's so large, so very sharp...that there's always a risk...especially when one has been drugged and bound in one's own home.

"Perhaps."

Pressure around my chest is gone in an instant as bra cups fall useless to the sides after barely a touch from the blade. Generous swells now bare, nipples hard and aching for attention crowning each one.

"If you're good,"

A wriggle as material pulls tight against sensitive flesh, panties drawn upwards and putting pressure against what lies beneath.

"Or maybe we'll just take what we please from you."

A gasp as knife makes short work of dispensing with my panties.

"Maybe I don't give a single fuck what you want."

Cheeks burn as underwear is pulled less than carefully away. Leaving me naked and entirely on show. Embarassingly awakened sex glistening slightly. Embarassing because it's barely been touched, embarassing because his words make things even worse.

"But maybe, if you beg nicely, you can convince me to care..."

The slap isn't overly painful but it is a shock and when combined with the sudden heat and softness of lips surrounding chilled nipple it draws a sudden whimper from inside me. My eyes shift to the beautiful face over my chest, another whimper as fingers toy with the other nipple. Fingers curling into my palms as I strain slightly against the bonds. Tingling between my legs, a different tingle spreading over my chest.

Damn they are a dangerous pair these two.

"Please..."

My tone is desperate. Blue eyes moving back to his face, back arching up to offer nipples to her mouth, to her fingers, to whatever she wants to do with them.

"...oh please..."

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Her arousal is all but visible, and he can feel it as his fingers move over her again. The attention on her nipple is clearly having an effect, and the poor thing seems to be all but reeling. The desperation in her voice draws a smile from him, though, and his eyes lift to her face, head tilting in curiosity. It's mock curiosity, though, he knows full well what she wants. Whether he will give in, of course, is the question.

"Please what?" he asks, brow arched as he looks down at her, and the question is punctuated with another impact of his hand against her sex.

"If you want something, little Witch, you'd best ask for it specifically. Otherwise you get what I want to give you." The curiosity was gone, replaced with a grin just this side of ominous, and it was then that his fingertips found her clit, working a slow circle against her.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

"please... Oh please"

The arching of her back is more than enough to show me she wants more. Of course, I ever so nicely oblige...for the moment. Tongue and fingers flicking over the hard little nubs.

"If you want something, little Witch, you'd best ask for it specifically. Otherwise you get what I want to give you."

His words are true, watching has his hands slide against her, hearing the telltale intake of breath when he hits the right spot.

For my part this means a change of tactic. Always hot and cold, sweet, sour opposite of what he is doing. He gives pleasure...

I will give pain.
My teeth sink into the nubs I had just been caressing, and my fingers pinch down on the other. I can't even help twisting both a little.

I like it.
Not so sure she does.

 

[Britwitch]

"Please what?"

Another whine accompanies the slap. Sex stinging and tingling beneath his palm.

"If you want something, little Witch, you'd best ask for it specifically. Otherwise you get what I want to give you."

"I..."

I don't manage more than that, the touch of his fingers against my clit makes my eyes flutter closed for a moment. Circles, slow and torturous, making my hips rise with equal speed from the bed. Then eyes are wide once more, mouth open in a silent expression of shock as teeth fasten too tightly around my nipple.

I hear myself whimper as the other is pinched and twisted, my expression one of confusion. Torn between the undeniable pleasure thats slowly being delivered between my legs and the pain arcing between my nipples.

Whatever it is I want, I need to ask for it quickly.

"More. I want more."

A loud groan breaks my speech, my plea.

"Please, I want more...of both of you..."

Being tied down is what makes everything more intense than I can cope with. Being unable to touch back, to reciprocate...or even attempt to stop...
And I'm fairly certain they both know this all too well.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

A slow shake of the head follows her words, disappointment etched into that small movement. His fingers continue, tortuously slow against her, but his eyes are on her face, watching the sifting waves of pleasure and pain as they manifest there, the confusion of a mind that can only receive, and that is unable to focus on solely the pain or the pleasure they deliver to it.

"More of us? Oh, that is certainly going to happen, whatever you may say. I was trying to be nice and give you a say in what you get from us, but... I guess it was too much to handle. Maybe this is too..."

And his fingers are gone, the tips glisten with her arousal as they lift off of her. They are not gone from her for long, his body shifting towards the head of the bed and fingers lifting over the one who so expertly tortures her nipples, and three are slid between parted lips and over her warm tongue. He holds them there, deep in her mouth, as he leans over and lowers his lips to her ear, his voice low as it forces it's way past the curtain of pain in her mind.

"Remember this moment later. When you are marked and sore, when you have been used and your cunt aches. When you have been made to cum so much that you can't remember your own name anymore. When I have emptied my balls down your throat, and you have finally pleased her fully, and we leave you here a shaking, sloppy fucking mess. Remember that you were given a chance to say what you wanted, and you didn't take it. Remember that later."

 

[Miss_Vivi]

Watching him move his fingers to her mouth, I stop for a moment, listening intently to the sounds of her licking and sucking and his words which give me the chills.

Well, the chills and soft giggles.

My fingers flick at the very hard nipples that I've been working on. The nails striking the skin quickly, it's not a sharp pain, but will efficiently take her breath for a moment. An important moment when his fingers are down her throat and only serve as a distraction.

Distraction.

I'm good at that.

Reaching over to the nightstand, I grab two small alligator clamps, with red beads hanging from them. Before he stands up from teasing her, the clamps are placed upon each little nub.

With each hitched breath, each whimper, each and every single moan her breasts move, topped by little beads that catch the light and dance with her.

Of course, the pain will be rich when they are removed... rich, decadent and deep.

Standing, I can't help the grin on my lips.

"Look, she matches! What a pretty painted devilish whore!"

 

[Britwitch]

"More of us? Oh, that is certainly going to happen, whatever you may say. I was trying to be nice and give you a say in what you get from us, but... I guess it was too much to handle. Maybe this is too..."

I hear myself whine as his fingers withdraw from upon my clit, eyes fixed on their progress towards my face. Following him and them until i feel like push between parted, panting lips and into my mouth. Lips draw around the digits, mouth sucking without conscious instruction. I know how wanton it must appear, which I am sure is part of why it is done. To illustrate that regardless of the fear, of the trepidation, how eager I am.

"Remember this moment later. When you are marked and sore, when you have been used and your cunt aches. When you have been made to cum so much that you can't remember your own name anymore. When I have emptied my balls down your throat, and you have finally pleased her fully, and we leave you here a shaking, sloppy fucking mess. Remember that you were given a chance to say what you wanted, and you didn't take it. Remember that later."

A slightly gurgled noise escapes around his fingers. Originally it was a moan to accompany the shiver that raced the length of my body but it didn't quite come out like that. Fingers pressing against licking tongue changing it into just another sound of my descent into becoming...whatever they want me to be...

Gagging me in a way and preventing me from admitting that the very fact that I will have no say in proceedings, that I will be entirely at their mercy, there to fulfill their desires and needs and not my own...is exactly what I want.

All the while my nipples protest the flicking, licking and otherwise delicious torment at her hands and mouth. Then the torment is suddenly less delicious and more torturous.

A definite and harsh bite around each nipple. I don't need to be able to see to know what she has done. The struggles that follow only emphasise the pressure and slight weight added to each peak.

"Look, she matches! What a pretty painted devilish whore!"

My cheeks glow, from the discomfort but from the embarassment of loving every single moment.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

His head turned when the other stood, a grin on his lips even as he remained bent over close to the Witch. His eyes slipped to full breasts, taut nipples now harshly decorated, and his grin only broadened as he turned his attention back to the helpless on spread out before them.

"Are you a pretty painted devilish whore?"

His fingers were still in her mouth, preventing her from answering, and so he removed them and instead gripped her throat, his fingers on her jaw turning her head towards the one who'd so decorated her.

"Tell her you are. Tell her what a needy, desperate, decorated little whore you are."

 

[Miss_Vivi]

"Are you a pretty painted devilish whore?"

Oooh.. I love it when they get mean and demanding. Enough to make a girl spread her legs and beg for more. Kinda like the witch.

From her mouth to her throat, his hand curls there like a vice. Not gonna lie to you, I could just sit back and watch the two of them go at it, and this girl would be very happy indeed.

"Tell her you are. Tell her what a needy, desperate, decorated little whore you are."

At this I straighten my jacket and smooth my skirt and pull my curly red hair off my neck into a pony tail. From my pocket I produce a red permanent marker.

"Hold on my little witch, allow me to take notes detailing exactly what you are."

I lean over the bed my pen poised above her thigh. I know how important it is to detail as much of any experience as you can.

"Okay Witchling, I'm ready."

 

[Britwitch]

"Are you a pretty painted devilish whore?"

I can't reply. At least, I can't until finger leave my mouth. I draw a breath to try and answer just as strong fingers wrap around my throat and lower face. Moving it, positioning it so I can see her.

"Tell her you are. Tell her what a needy, desperate, decorated little whore you are."

Lips are licked and another breath drawn but the words don't come out. Not yet.
I watch as she smoothes her already immaculate appearance and produces a pen. Soon I have a feeling my face will be as red as the nails that pop off the cap.

"Hold on my little witch, allow me to take notes detailing exactly what you are."

I can feel her breath against my skin. Dancing dangerously over my thigh. Making my next breath shakier as it leaves my lips.

"Okay Witchling, I'm ready."

"I...I'm a needy...desperate...decorated...little whore..."

I repeat quietly, feeling the first pressure of pen against flesh. Wondering for a moment if it will be my words that will be recorded or her own 'take' on them.

"I'm your little whore..."

My eyes move from her to him for a second.

"...your little slut..."

Back to her beautiful features, hovering over my leg.

"...your toy...to play with...or to break...as you wish..."

A quiet whimper as goosebumps dance outwards from where the pen touches my skin, sending a fresh pulse to already pulsing nipples.

"Yours."

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

A brow arched slightly as he heard a familiar but unexpected sound, and he glanced down to find an uncapped red marker at the ready.

Decorated indeed.

He thought parallel to the Witch, wondering if the words he'd find there upon looking would be what she now said, or Vivi's own delightful interpretation of them.

Either way, they would look good on the pale and freckled skin.

He stayed close, bent over the Witch, and when he spoke his hand on her throat tightened, all but shutting off her air.

"You can louder for me, can't you little toy? Make me believe you want to be used. You need to be used."

His hand relaxed, but didn't remove, allowing her the breath to speak as told.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

I am nothing if not a dutiful and dedicated note taker. I won't miss a word.

"I...I'm a needy...desperate...decorated...little whore..."

Needy is written down her thigh, desperate between them, as I'm relatively sure she is, her thighs are.. I save Little whore for placement, elsewhere

"I'm your little whore..."

Repeating words... not fun. Still I don't pause.

"...your little slut..."

Slut is written across her belly just above her pubic bone.

"...your toy...to play with...or to break...as you wish..."

Hmm.. I think I will paraphrase that bit. Play with me---> The arrow points to her already wet pussy.

"Yours."

Like this is news, to either of us. Whore is written across her tits.

Then I stand and walk away from my handiwork, and grab a play collar from the table, a simple red one that just happens to match the horns and the marker. Almost like I planned it out. A grin while I place it around her neck, and a soft, simple whisper next to her ear when I attach the clasp.

"Oh we know you're ours."