Petal’s Dew

Fresh snow fell upon Faerivin Forest, coating the towering trees and sprawling green shrubbery in a soft, deceptive blanket.  Petal heard burdened branches strain and leaning trunks creak beneath the weight of her cousins’ ill-timed advance of the seasons.  The world was still supposed to be vibrant, full of living colors growing amidst a sea of green.  Only those wrong-headed winter fey could think a pale, uniform white was a good look for the world, let alone hasten to whitewash its living grandeur.

Petal was a pixie, the very best pixie at helping flowers to bloom in all their glory.  She loved seeing them slowly open to their fullness, and enjoyed sampling the sweet nectar and crumbly pollen inside.  She loved their vibrant shades of red and blue and yellow and orange and pink…  Well, she loved how pretty every flower looked, even the pale white morning glory.  But this snow, this endless white was too much, too much!  And worse still, it was so flooding cold!

Petal dashed through the forest, hoping to find a place where her cousins’ working had yet to smother the world.  A snow this early wasn’t good for her flowering friends, but there was nothing she could do for those already buried beneath the wet blanket’s biting snow.  As Petal flew, dodging branches and heavy snowflakes, she cut a striking figure.  Her voluminous, periwinkle hair may have been matted to her head, and her amber skin had paled in the cold, showing hints of blue at her finger tips, but her glimmering wings beat strong, her back was straight, and there was only the barest shiver in her arms and legs.

Petal dipped below a branch, spun around a particularly clumpy flake of snow, and her sapphire eyes caught a glimpse of movement up ahead.  A red squirrel was dashing through the trees to reach its nest, but it spotted Petal and paused on the edge of a branch as she drew near.  The nutty red squirrels had a bit of a bad reputation, but Petal doubted the flea warmer would do anything to her if she didn’t give him a chance.  Petal dropped lower and aimed to pass under the squirrel - she’d been hit by a branch twice before when flying over the red-furred menaces - and realized her mistake a moment too late.

The red squirrel jumped - not off its branch, rather it hopped in place - and a white wall of snow fell right into Petal’s path.  She tried to swerve, she tried to slow, but she had been moving so fast, and there was no way to avoid the rime-be-damned curtain.  

“Frostbite!” Petal cursed as she crashed into the falling snow.  Her world went white, and then she was falling, tumbling, freezing-

Petal didn’t remember hitting the ground.  She supposed the snow must have cushioned her fall, but she would have preferred to land on moss, or mud, or even the bare, hard ground rather than plummet into more of the heat-sapping snow.  By the time Petal staggered to her feet in the waist-deep frost-clutter, she couldn’t even feel her toes wiggling in her mouse skin boots.  She ignored the chittering laughter of the squirrel overhead, wondered briefly if a sprite friend of hers could make her a squirrel-skin rug, then refocused on herself.  Her translucent wings were straight and intact, even if they felt leaden with cold.  Numb hands cleared snow from her leather vest and wolf hair skirt, but the melting snow on her arms sapped what little feeling she still had in them.  She had left her winter cloak at home - it was for sitting warm in her hollow, not for flying to the rescue - but its absence now left her with little choice.

Petal had set out to save as many of her plant friends as she could, but now she was the one in deadly danger.  She needed somewhere the winter fey’s magic had not touched, somewhere she could get to before she could freeze to death.  A glance around the woods to orient herself told her she had three choices.  Fyreld the fire drake had a cave only four leagues away, but wet and cold as she was, Petal wasn’t sure she could make it.  Plus, Fyreld was a burning meanie, and had tried to sear off her wings the last time she had visited.

Petal would have preferred Lethellyn’s eternally warm glade, and the sun elf sorceress loved spending time with Petal, but it was more than a league further than Fyreld’s cave.  As the sensation of thorns and brambles replaced what little feeling remained in her extremities, Petal feared even the hot-headed drake was beyond her reach.

No, her last and only real hope was Shorna’s Rise, the hill-top home of a nymph formerly of the summer court.

And yet, Petal hesitated.  She had heard Shorna was being propositioned by Baroness Aurora of the winter court, and unseelie fey like Aurora would more readily watch seelie fey like Petal suffer with a smile on their face than render aid to a pixie in need.  Indeed, if Shorna had joined the unseelie it was entirely possible she was no longer a nymph, but rather some dark-natured creature of the winter court like an alp-luachra, or a cait sidhe.

But Petal had no other choice.  Not if she wanted to avoid freezing to death.  Home was on the far edge of the forest, and she could think of no other haven she could reach before the cruel workings of winter sent her to an icy grave.  Before Petal could further question the wisdom of willingly entering Shorna’s domain, her iridescent wings blurred and puffed up a tiny cloud of snow.  She was off, stiffly buzzing her way towards Shorna’s Rise.

As she flew, Petal’s thoughts ran through all the strange and silly stories she’d heard about Shorna.  A field mouse once told her the nymph slept throughout the day and frolicked beneath the stars.  A pygmy owl once hooted that any who saw her in the light of a full moon at twilight would be struck senseless, practically losing their head over her beauty.  That in no way meant she only cavorted with the bewitched; rather she was apparently a lascivious woman with a powerful desire to spend the twilight hours engaged in activities best relegated to that time.  A satyr once told Petal that Shorna’s preferred activities included dining, conducting dark rituals, convening a carnal congress, participating in vigorous stargazing, and confusing discourse with intercourse.  This might not have been so bad, and the satyr had been glad for the experience, except as she had finished her breakfast she had seen the tips of a pair of fairy wings sticking out of a hastily-closed box in the nymph’s larder.  It was only later that the satyr realized what the iridescent material had been.

The last thought made Petal shiver, only to realize the rest of her body had stopped shivering in the cold.  That…  That was not a good sign.  Thankfully Petal was now climbing as she flew, following a rise in the forest floor.  Just as her stiffening wings were starting to frost over in the cold, Petal could see the snow on the ground turning to slush, and a couple hundred feet further was the top of the hill, completely devoid of the winter fey’s chill touch.

Arrhythmic beats of her frosted wings carried Petal into a mossy glade that was bisected by a creek, and filled with twisted yet elegant wooden furniture, padded with a mix of mosses and furs.  A lithe woman rested in a chair, her elegant legs crossed at the ankle, her seat positioned perfectly to watch Petal’s approach.  The pixie intended to reach her, to greet the fey who embodied this glade, but as the frost on her wings melted and a chill seized her body, Petal fell short of her destination.  She plummeted, her wings sputtering thrice in short, desperate bursts, until the exhausted little fey collapsed on a simple table carved from the massive stump of an ancient, felled tree.

As Petal lay listening to the burbles of the spring-fed creek, a more regular sound came to her ears.  It was the soft brush of fabric and and gentle tamping of footfalls upon healthy grass.  In the waning light of day Petal rolled over, her numb body fighting her, until she laid eyes upon the nymph for whom this glade existed.

Her skin was a pattern of deep blue and purple, sinking from Navy to the depths of Midnight.  It startled Petal, as such colors were not to be found anywhere in the summer court.  And yet…

And yet her lips, the pads of her fingers, even her nostrils were the burnt orange of sunset, the delineation between the warm summer colors and the cold of a winter night not sharply separated, but bleeding rapidly from one to the other.  Shorna wore a scandalously cut dress of fine white silk that hugged her like a sheer bank of cirrus clouds.  Around her neck was surely some artifact of her fey power, seen only as a ring of dark, almost black flames.  The nymph’s measured approach and refined posture exuded a nobility which rivaled that of Titania herself.  

Rather, the former nymph, Petal should think.  There was no flooding way she was still one of those lovely, if fickle, fey.  Those black eyes, speckled with a vibrant, yet unnatural purple were quite rare even among the unseelie.  Outside of the winter court they were impossible, at least for an elvenoid.  The dark woman’s darker gaze fixed unwaveringly upon the pixie’s still form.

It wasn’t obvious at first glance what kind of fey now loomed over Petal, but something nagged at her fading thoughts.  Petal had seen it, some detail or three that would make Shorna’s transformation obvious, were it not for the tiny woman’s own frozen flesh smothering her ability to think.

Snow, Petal’s thoughts managed to grasp.  Where is all the flooding snow?  Though once she may have been of summer, Shorna is a winter fey now.  Snow should be laying especially heavy over her demesne, yet it melts in her presence, and all across her demesne.  What would cause…?

Her neck, Petal realized, the question and its obvious answer connecting in her chill-hindered mind, the connection filling in another detail.  Her neck bears the flaming circlet, the abyssal ring of ebon flames.  It is not an artifact of her power, but a physical manifestation of her new existence.  And she saw my coming, she was watching my fading life approach its ending.  Oh, fire and flood, her blighted name!  Her name is who she is, and who she is has changed.  All of faerie would intrinsically understand this change, knowing her only by her new name, with all memory of the old as lost as her abandoned form, but I didn’t realize it had been changed, and failed to realize the flooding importance!  Of course, it all makes sense!

The mistress of the glade moved a wide and well-cushioned silk pillow beside Petal, and ran a hand through her hair.

Her enchanting, yet hauntingly elven appearance as well, I should have known, I should have realized!  I expected a nymph, but the summer court has not a monopoly on forms which share shape and size alike with the elvenoid races.

Shorna’s fingers clenched in her silky, black hair, and her arm lifted with strength and surety.

It was so obvious, and yet I failed to see.  One who has cast aside her seelie life, one who makes others lose their heads, one who is known now as an accomplished midnight rider.  Shorna, newest lady of the winter court, is-

The arm lowered, and Petal’s final hope for salvation rested her gorgeous head upon the silk pillow, those haunting eyes staring down at the dying pixie.

- A dullahan.

Those abyssal eyes were known to see things beyond the physical, and the violet whorls twisted as they looked past Petal’s unmoving form to see her very nature, that which in humans might be called a soul.  Emotions flickered across that proud face - elegant lips curled in amusement, sharp nose wrinkled in concern, thin but severe eyebrows raised in expectation, and otherworldly eyes focused with incredible hunger.

“Welcome, fair pixie, to my home.”  Shorna’s words were smooth and cool with a hard edge, like a rich, winter honey poured over a frosty blade.  “I know of you, sweet Petal, by reputation.  A tender caregiver to the flowers of the forest, are you not?  I don’t have many flowers for you to attend - really just my personal flower, so I am uncertain as to why you are here.  Have you come seeking shelter from my liege’s storm?”

Petal eyed the talking head looming over her, and focused on the thin, expressive lips to better understand what was being asked.  The dullahan’s breath rolled over petal like a warm breeze off a campfire in the creeping chill of a late autumn evening.  It was more floral than Petal expected, yet more smokey than her alluring voice.  It smelled like an incense of holly and mistletoe.

Petal opened her mouth to respond, but her voice failed her.  She couldn’t blame a chattering jaw, as her body was chilled far past the point of shivering.  Eventually she nodded, as that was all she could do.  Thankfully, it seemed enough.  Petal wasn’t sure how, but the pillow-bound head nodded slightly in return.

“I thought as much, maiden of Summer.  I would be willing to help you, to warm you and aid in the recovery of your strength, but as you are of Summer and I am of Winter, I must insist a price be paid in kind.  Would you be willing to spend the night with me, plying your greatest skill until morning or until I deem your work complete, and to owe me a favor of my choosing to be named according to my need?”

Petal had been ready to agree to the terms right up until a favor was mentioned.  Favors owed to the fey - especially fey nobles - were never to be taken lightly.  Even should the favor called be a simple task to complete, the repercussions of such a favor could drown one’s prospects for centuries.  Petal know of an innkeeper who was called to kidnap a princess as a favor, and that had resulted in the fall of both kingdoms, the torture and execution of the prince, and the princess giving birth to a troll, who ended up eating his own mother.

But Petal could not refuse.  Not if she wanted to live.  Already her vision was dimming, the darkness closing in.  It was agree or die, and if she died, who would care for her flowery friends that survived this early winter?  Petal was the only blossoming pixie in the Faerivin forest.  She had to survive.  She had to…

Petal nodded her acceptance of the terms.

The dullahan’s disembodied head frowned.

“No, no, that just won’t do.  This is a fey bargain, my dear pixie, and I need you to speak your answer.  I need to hear your sweet, dulcet voice agree to be my servant for the evening.  I need to hear you say that you owe me that oh, so little favor.  I need to hear you agree to my terms before I can save you.”

Petal tried.  She gasped in a shallow breath, the warm, incensed air searing to her half-frozen lungs, but she made herself draw deeper.  Petal’s tiny chest rose, and fell again as she spoke.  Or as she tried to.  Only a chilled wheeze left her parted lips, the pitiful sound distorted as her jaw began to chatter.  The ambient air had warmed her body enough that the involuntary life-saving functions of her body could resume, but it would not be enough.  The chill of winter was in her now.  It had claimed her to her flooding bones.  Moreso, the warmth rolling off the looming dullahan was not the life-giving warmth of spring, but was rather of the flame that consumes and destroys.  It bore an element of finality, of endings, and that nature refused to save her life.

The disembodied head sighed in mild annoyance.  Petal closed her eyes and mustered her determination to try again.  She inhaled once more, her chest rising higher, her lungs burning worse than her tongue after a jalapeño julep.  There came a rustling from the headless body looming above, and Petal felt a rush of air as something passed overhead.  But Petal did not fear the towering Shorna’s actions.  If Petal didn’t warm quickly she would die regardless of outside interference.  But still, she had to consider; agreeing to an open favor was a greater peril than any physical harm Shorna might inflict upon her, if not for herself then for others.

But if she didn’t agree, she would die.  In the end, it all came down to that.  Petal was immortal.  Would all her long centuries of life boil down to a death from exposure to an early snow?  There was no burning way she would let that happen when there was a way she could live.  Eyes still closed, she took a shuddering breath and made her decision.

“Uh-uhhhh…  I…  I, agree.”

It was faint as the flap of a moth’s wing, but Petal spoke her agreement.  For a moment she couldn’t imagine that the dullahan, that Lady Shorna had heard her, but she felt a weight settle over her as soft and smothering as the waist-deep snow.  How?  How did she hear me?  The towering fey likely had great hearing, but Petal’s voice was so faint.  There was no way Shorna heard her, even from her pillowy throne mere inches away.  But she had been heard. Her promise of payment for salvation had become a part of her being.  She may be frost-damned in her desperation, but at least she was no longer going to die.

She opened her eyes and stared, at first failing to comprehend the sight before her.  Held in long, elegant fingers was a purple-black ear, itself long and elegant, its tip sharp as the barbs hidden in Shorna’s offer.  Like the pads of Shorna’s fingers, the interior of the ear was orange, but with hints of pink hidden deeper within.  The ear was about as long as Petal was tall, and its interior was aimed directly at Petal’s face.

Oh, and it was completely disconnected from the disembodied head on the pillow.

As the ear was lifted away, Petal could see with rising horror that the back of the ear was a flaming circle, and a matching ring of ebon fire smoldered among the hair on the left side of Shorna’s smiling head.  The back of the ear was replaced, and the dark flames flared for a moment before disappearing entirely.  The ear remained in place as the shoulder-length hair again covered the slender, sensitive organ.

It was incredible.  It was horrible.  This Shorna could freely disconnect parts of her body?  Petal had always thought that dullahan were headless riders; she hadn’t known they could separate more than their heads!  That was…  That was crazy!  It was flooding, storming crazy!  It was…

It was not immediately relevant to the predatory grin spreading across the dullahan’s pillow-top face.  No, that look was far more concerning.

“I’m so glad you decided to join me for the evening, little pixie,” Shorna purred.  That sound encouraged Petal’s chilled blood to freeze in her veins.  It was the coy mewling of a playful cat pawing at its prey.  Petal had actually seen that happen to a fairy.  The joy that lynx had taken in batting a broken-winged fairy about was horrible.  Petal had saved the monarch-winged woman by first luring the cat away, and then diving in and flying off with her battered friend, but she’d had nightmares for a solid month after that.  She knew if she survived this night, that horrid dream would make a most-unwelcome return, with the cat replaced by a violet-blue face and a disembodied head.

“In accordance with our agreement, I shall give you the lifesaving warmth you desire.  I hope you enjoy it as much as I will.”  Shorn’s lips curled in anticipation, and those elegant fingers returned, gently lifting Petal off the table.

“Such rough little clothes you wear,” Shorna said.  She looked over Petal as she dangled at eye height.  Shorna’s expression was contemplative.  “Your garments are soaked through and practically frozen!  Now that just won’t do.”  Those dexterous fingers pulled at Petal’s bindings, and in moments her boots were pinched between thumb and forefinger, and being set gently upon the table.  

As her head lolled in exhaustion, Petal could see her toes were tinged with blue, and her feet were pale to the point of seeming bloodless.  Moments later her pale thighs were revealed as her skirt was removed in a slow and gentle manner.  Petal felt a momentary flush of embarrassment fight her chilled body as her own flower bud was exposed.  Centuries of casual flings still hadn’t quite worn away her prudish attitude from childhood.  She tried to tuck her hairless petals away in the cold, but she wasn’t strong enough to cover herself.  Then in a moment of lucidity, she recalled that embarrassment was a tertiary concern, relegated below not dying from exposure, and not being killed, enslaved, or eternally indebted to her contracted savior.

Those elegant fingers returned to gently pinch her legs, and the warm touch sent the sensation of nettles scratching across Petal’s frost-touched skin.  Petal groaned, but bit off the complaint quickly.  The painful sensation was a sign of her body heat rising, and as storming annoying as it felt, it was never-the-less a good sign.

Petal was carefully flipped upside-down, the shift in the grip of the fingers holding her now directing Petal’s gaze to Shorna’s bare navel.  There was no belly button as would be seen on an elf, but there was a small, gentle depression of smooth skin where it would have been.  Yet another detail twisted by elvenoids learning of themselves, and informing the shapes of those who mocked and mimicked aspects of their form.

Then fingers pinched at Petal’s back, and her vest was forced over her head.  Petal’s view was blocked as her modest chest was exposed to the world.  Petal quickly found herself turned so Shorna’s resting head could see, and Petal heard a pleased purring sound before the vest was completely removed, and she was eye-to-upside-down-eye with an enticed dullahan.

“There now, that’s better, wouldn’t you say?”  Shorna asked, the question clearly rhetorical.  Petal said nothing as she waited to see what would happen next, and fortunately she needed not wait long.  Petal felt the fingers dangling her shift their grip to hold her securely within a loose fist.  Her shoulders and head protruded from the top between thumb and index finger, and her toes wiggled free just below the smallest finger.  Petal could feel the massive fingers that were holding her tight begin to loosen.  Soon they rubbed and pressed upon her warming, prickling body, and so distracted by the sensation was Petal that it took her a full minute to recognize two significant details.

Firstly, the fingers were not offering her a massage, nor were they providing stimulation to promote blood flow.  No, the attentive caresses were the lascivious groping of a horny fey.

Secondly, Petal realized the body had moved away from the table, stepping beyond Petal’s limited sight.  As she was still held in the dullahan’s grip, Petal feared for a moment that she was hallucinating.  That was, right up until she noticed one of Shorna’s arms ended in a ring of black flames just below the shoulder.  Petal was jerked about as the disconnected arm nudged the disembodied head into a more imperious tilt.

“Does my beauty dumbfound you, little pixie?  You have barely spoken since you arrived.  Or perhaps, is your tongue typically so tied?  I cannot say the tales I’ve heard of you tell of a stoic pixie, but I suppose tales do not tell us all.”

Petal didn’t bother trying to answer.  She was distracted by the painful return of sensation to her naked body, and by the phantom feeling of Shorna’s grasp.  Though the thorns and brambles were foremost in her mind, there was a warm, smooth allure to the feeling of Shorna’s palm and fingers wrapped around her body, especially as they concentrated on Petal’s chest, waist, and ass.

“Ah, I see,” Shorna said with a self-satisfied smirk.  “My tactile investigation has wrapped you around my fingers, and deprived you of your faculties.  Appropriate, is it not?  Well, do not worry.  I have something that should warm you to your roots, and reap your reservation with the same stroke.”  

Petal could feel the rising warmth in the air as Shorna’s body returned, and it set a massive silver goblet next to Petal.  From her plucky perch she could make out steam rising from the goblet, before a fruity, yet spicy magical fragrance smothered her with its heady aroma.  The fingers lifted Petal into the air - the arm must have been back in place - and Petal could see a blood-red wine steeped with various spices.  She could make out cinnamon and anise, as well as more exotic spices like powdered dewdrop and shaved moonbeam.

“My dear Petal, have you a taste for fae wine?  I myself enjoy such refined delights, especially when served warm with proper mulling spices.  Can I interest you in partaking?  I myself would love a goblet with a full-bodied bouquet.”

Petal eyed the silver chalice with mild trepidation.  Unlike mortals, a fey need not fear to partake of fae food or drink, yet Petal suspected - nay, she knew that Shorna implied more with her offer than a few sips of the warm wine.  But it was so warm, and smelled so delightful, and her body was so cold, and she could use a drink to settle her nerves, and it was so warm…

“I would be happy to partake, Lady Shorna,” Petal said, her words a bit stuttered by her clenched jaw.

Shorna hummed in appreciation, and Petal was lifted over the silver goblet.  Petal could feel the warm air rising from the wine, the floral, fruity aroma forming the lines of a beautiful scene that was masterfully colored by aging and the mulling spices.  Petal closed her eyes as she sank towards that warmth, but it disappeared for a moment.  Then it was back, not quite as pleasant, but the warm air was rising quickly - then it was gone again, but only for a moment - then it was rising slowly but with an intensity, breathing new life into Petal’s aching limbs.

Her feet sank into a wet warmth, and Petal sighed in relief before she realized the floral scent was more astringent than her first breath of the wine - and where were the mulling spices?  Then her feet touched down on something smooth and slick just beneath the surface, something soft and warm, and that flexed at her touch.  Her eyes shot open in a primal fear.

The corners of Shorna’s open mouth curled up as Petal realized she was being lowered not into the goblet, but into the dullahan’s grinning maw.  Petal flailed, trying to move her legs out of the mouth, trying to climb the very fingers holding her, but she was so tired, so weak.  She couldn’t possibly hope to oppose this storming, burning, unseelie horror.  The rules of hospitality were out the window, and suddenly Petal found herself restrained by the cold iron rings of the food chain.

She screamed, she kicked, but she was dropped into that yawning mouth, and quickly drawn towards the Stygian depths by the reaping tongue of the dullahan.  The mouth closed, and Petal prepared herself to be swallowed, though she had no idea how that would work with the head still luxuriating on the pillow.

Petal’s world shook as her dark, wet cell was repositioned, and Shorna’s agile tongue made the most of the situation, tasting every inch of Petal it could reach.  It tickled across her tiny toes, speared between her shaking thighs, basted her breasts in a viscous saliva, and flaunted its tip against Petal’s face until she was tempted to bite the dullahan back in an act of petty revenge - but Petal stopped herself.  She hadn’t yet been harmed, at least not yet, and there was an outside chance the rules of hospitality were still in effect.  She suppressed her wroth, her terror, and her trepidation, and resolved herself to making the best of the strange situation.

The shaking stopped and above the lips parted.  Light flooded the open mouth, revealing a dripping pink palate, only for the light above to dim.   There was a silvery glint, then the downpour started.

Marvelous mulled wine flooded Petal’s cell, and its warmth washed over her like a lifesaving spell.  Frost-damaged wings began to shine in the dark, and her flesh was imbued with a vital fae spark.  The thorns that once bit at Petal’s fast-fraying nerves were cast from her flesh, replaced with hearty reserves.

The wine’s taste was a wonder, its bouquet refreshing, intense.  The arctic doom was no longer, though it’d come at great expense.  Petal basked in the magic and imagined what lay ahead.  Hopefully nothing too tragic, though fate suggested a bed.

The darkness beside her yawned with an unseen ‘gluck,’ and the wine-whirling Petal feared she was all out of luck.  The mulled, fruity magic drained into the unknown, leaving Petal to lay panting, solitary but not alone.

Ugh, Petal groaned to herself.  Fae wine is always a trip and a half.  At least she felt better now.  The wine had warmed and revitalized her, leaving her extremities tingling in a manner not at all unpleasant.  It was as if a magic spark had energized her entire body, and she felt a shiver of excitement pass through her surroundings as well.

Petal climbed to her knees, and fought to keep her legs from sliding into the throat beside her.  She could feel an intense heat washing over her throat-tickling toes.  It reminded Petal of one of Lethellyn’s high-powered warming spells, though this seemed more sinister, like a corrupted forge fire.  Petal was just thankful the heat wasn’t painful, but rather intense - much like the fey inside of whose mouth Petal was still trapped.

The softer of the two fleshy walls around Petal seemed to close in on her, and she felt herself shoved against the harder wall - the roof of the mouth - as she was repositioned away from the throat.

“Haven’t you had enough of your full-bodied bouquet?” Petal called, hoping for release.  The sensation of the warm flesh and wet saliva was an improvement over freezing to death - and in the right circumstances might even be welcome - but she was at the mercy of an unseelie fey with a concerning reputation.  To Petal’s distress, the response she received was a passionate chuckle, and the return of the goblet overhead.

Again and again came the magical deluge, its wondrous embrace another lie of this refuge.  The delight of the dullahan at the pixie’s inclusion was Petal’s only measure if safety were an illusion.  Yet as the cup was refilled and the drink was imbibed, Petal bore a new feeling she could not quite describe.  She knew of such pleasures as friendship and joy, and this new feeling was similar, as if with a new toy.  Yet this feeling was deeper, seated not in the heart.  From her loins burned a passion, squirming thighs she did part.  By the third goblet hands began teasing a bud, and the wall-tongue lapped forth like some passionate flood.  More wine was quite welcome, no reprieve was required, and sleep was forgotten as none present were tired.  Still, a bed would be key to the dullahan’s trap, and Petal soon longed to frolic in her hostess’ lap.

No words were exchanged, no thoughts spoken aloud, yet fey large and small their attraction avowed.  Though tongue-tossed the pixie refused to be cowed - she would soon see the Lady’s field properly plowed.

As the umpteenth mouthful of wondrous fae wine drained away deeper into the passionate dullahan, Petal found herself flushed, soaked, and randy as a cherry-chomping harlot.  She had swallowed enough of the wine that her smooth tummy had been comically distended, and its magic was flowing through Petal’s entire body.  She felt relaxed, yet energized, and any concerns weighing on her mind were now light as a feather.  Her senses had been heightened such that she could begin to see in the dark confines of the dullahan’s closed maw, and she could feel every individual tastebud as the randy tongue caressed her entire left side.  She could hear the soothing sea-sounds of the magical blood flowing through Shorna’s head, and she could taste the traces of venison, eggs, and asparagus on the Lady’s breath.  Petal was full to bursting with vitality, and with the desire to go forth and experience life.

And she was horny, so flooding horny, she was horny as she had never been in her long life.  She had enjoyed nice evenings with another pixie or a fairy, shared an acorn cap of fae wine between them before retiring for an all-night affair, but this…. Petal had been bathed in the magical wine, in the drink of the fair folk, known for their beauty, their trickery, and their wild abandon in the interest of hedonistic pursuits.  The wine had not simply caressed her lips, slipped over her tongue, and slid passionately down her throat.  No, the four - or was it five? - goblets had soaked into her skin and set her passions alight.  She wanted nothing more than to lose herself in carnal pursuits, and from Shorna’s wording and actions Petal was certain she would get that chance.

Petal sat up and wrapped her arms and knees around the seeking tongue, and she felt the base push hard against her chest and crotch.  It wriggled, freeing a delighted gasp from Petal, and unleashing a full-body moan from Shorna herself.

Then the dim, fleshy world shifted, and Petal found herself riding the tongue while facing the narrow band of lighter shadow where perfectly kissable lips were poorly hidden behind parted rows of perfect teeth.  Goodness, it seemed everything was just perfect now that Petal was saved.

Then the darkness of the mouth was pierced by the evening light.  Shorna’s lips parted, and Petal used her arms to drag herself forward, keeping her crotch stimulated by dragging her nethers across the supple tongue.  It may have been undignified, but this was passion, this was pleasure!  What good was pride when it would just make you grumpy?

When Petal reached the opening, she stared down at a sight worthy of the gods.  Shorna’s head seemed to be resting on her shoulders as she lay back on a soft forest bed with icy-blue silk sheets.  It was incredible how well the dark colors of Shorna’s wonderful skin contrasted with the frosty sheets.  With the sheer fabric of her hostess’ garments removed, Petal could see a gentle, purple rise ascend into modest midnight mounds capped with beautiful pink buds.  The valley between stretched out across an azure field that rose and fell with the breath of the fey, only to part and rise as two powerful thighs ascending to twice the elevation of the humble hills.

Between the rising thighs Petal could see some sort of padded contraption, colored alike to the silken sheets.  It seemed to be some sort of narrow and tilted basket, or cradle.  Beyond it Petal could barely make out Shorna’s long, elegant feet resting on padded pedals, or a push bar.  Petal couldn’t imagine what it was for, but she was sure she was going to love it.

Petal shifted her thighs on Shorna’s tongue to better stimulate her own rising excitement, and that earned her another moan from the Lady - but it also caused those distant thighs to tense, and the legs to push out on those pedals.  As they did, the basket moved closer.  It still left plenty of space between its shallow bottom and Shorna’s flower garden, but the movement intrigued Petal.  

She wanted to know more, but fingers came forth and plucked her from her warm, slippery cave.She was set upon the Lady’s collarbone, and it took a moment to tear her gaze from those sumptuous hills to face her hostess, and her soul-piercing gaze.

“Did you enjoy your taste of fae wine, little Petal?”

Petal bowed where she kneeled, and replied with excitement.  “I certainly did, Lady Shorna.”

“I am delighted to hear that, my sweet, and I could tell from your, efforts, that you are hale once more.  I believe we had discussed your payment involved you plying your skills at blooming flowers in my personal garden.  Are you ready to begin?”

Petal’s reply was a delighted squeak and a buzzing of her wings that set driplets of spit flying everywhere, but she zipped from a kneeling position into a gymnastic twirling backflip that landed her on the peak of one of the midnight mounds, with a fresh, growing bud settled between her legs.  Petal wasted no time in caressing the growing bud, coaxing it with a gentle touch and a firm, guiding fingers until it almost doubled in size.

To be sure the bud would reach its full potential, Petal decided to imbue the pink nub with her own fertility, and promptly locked it in a grip between her thighs as she settled her gently dripping watering can right on top.  Petal made sure to water every bit of the firm, yet spongy bud with her natural lubrication.  Her job done, Petal flipped herself forward into a hand-stand with her hands on either side of it, and she gently lowered herself down to kiss the fully grown bud, while spreading her legs overhead and wiggling her hips and wings alike to entice and entertain Lady Shorna.  When the midnight mound rumbled beneath her in a sultry giggle, Petal buzzed her wings and rolled forward, holding herself aloft and tickling the bud with her fluttering wingtips for just a moment before launching into the air.

Below, the Lady squeaked in surprised and giggled her delight, only for Petal to drop upon the second bud, and repeat her careful ministrations.  Only, this time when Petal dipped her handstand into a passionate kiss on the tip of the bud, a gentle poke from a finger almost as long as she was tall knocked her into the shallow valley of Shorna’s cleavage.  Petal laughed and rolled with it, coming to lay on her tummy, legs crossed casually, and torso held aloft on her arms as she looked up at her hostess.  Petal beat her wings again slowly, the iridescent membranes tickling Shorna’s cleavage.

Petal watched the dullahan’s expression as she fought not to react, but after only a few seconds the land jumped with a huge guffaw.  When she found herself in the air, Petal sped up her wing beats and darted forward to plant a kiss on Shorna’s wonderful lips.

“Thank you, sweet Petal,” Shorna said, her eyes twinkling in the quickly fading light.  “I’m already quite glad that I welcomed you.  I am, however, finding myself mildly bothered by your progress, and as time goes on without my flower blooming, I find myself becoming increasingly frustrated.  Would you be a good pixie, and tend to my petals?  I would be only to happy to watch you do your good works.”

Petal nodded and took to the air, only wondering as she passed over Shorna’s navel what precisely she meant with that last statement.  She didn’t;t have long to wait to learn.

Petal settled on the feminine mound overlooking the flower’s musky plot, only to see a glimmer from below as a shadow passed overhead.  Petal spun and looked up, only to complete the turn as she followed Shorna’s once-again disembodies head as it was rested comfortably in the mysterious basket.  The dullahan’s face was now scant inches away from lovely labia, and things clicked solidly into place for Petal.  She sat down upon an orange-pink hood overlooking the darker pink cleft of delight, and slid down to find herself fenced in by smiles on two sides.

“There, now isn’t this nice and cozy.  Please, Petal.  Show me those skills I’ve heard so much about.”

Beneath that otherworldly gaze Petal set to work.  She took a deep breath, and was almost overwhelmed by the incredible blend of holly breath and spicy, smokey musk mixing in the intimate hollow between head and thighs.  Petal shook her head and focused again on the slightly swollen outer lips, getting down on her knees and reaching out to make contact.

There was a soft rocking, and Petal felt the air flow in as Shorna’s head shifted back for a better view, but as the head rocked, Petal saw a brief glimmer from between the lips.  It was a pale off-white glow that was there for a moment, then gone before her eyes could focus on it, but it was undoubtedly there.  Petal almost asked after what she had seen, but the swirling fragrance of femininity drove her to her task.  Petal’s tiny, dexterous hands reached out to touch the soft, but firming outer lips, and she could feel the fiery passion pushing even more warmth into her excited body.  Petal shifted forward, spooning the growing petal as it reddened and grew in the gap of her thighs and the space between her breasts.  She could feel the supple flesh pushing into her cleavage as it grew into its fullness, spreading her own modest breasts apart.  It was like hugging a fiery, fleshy avatar of love, and Petal loved every second of it.

But it wasn’t to last.  Her impatient host was losing her head over the slow pace, and cleared her riven throat to encourage Petal to move on.  She spent less time with the other outer petal, already more than half-full, but with the major petals parted, she could see the softer, even more supple petals within.

The pixie ran her teeny, tiny fingers along the curled up inner lips, then delicately plucked one into each hand, and gently pulled them towards her to help them grow.  She placed a soft kiss on each, fighting to hold back her roaring passion as she drew the flower towards its fullness.  Petal dipped her head and placed the fleshy flower petals against her cheeks.  She took a moment to breath in their musky fragrance, and she could hear their rushing vitality as the petals swelled to their fullness.

The hot and heavy panting from her edging hostess drew Petal’s attention when it turned to a soft but insistent mewling.  Petal turned around to place a wordless kiss on the dullahan’s tooth-swollen lips.  Petal watched that lower lip once again curl back between daunting teeth, and turned back to find a blooming flower winking excitedly at her.

“Hello there, my dewy friend,” Petal crooned at the fully-opened flower.  “What fun should we have tonight?  Would you share your sweet nectar with me?  Shall I dive in and pollinate like there’s no tomorrow?”

She ran a hand along the inside a supple petal, and the landscape jumped for a moment in concert with a powerful gasp from behind that set Petals wings aflutter.  Petal removed her touch, and found her hand had a partial coating of smokey, viscous lubrication.  It was encouraging, but not nearly as plentiful as needed.

“Now, that just won’t dew.  Let’s ply the watering bulb shall we, and see if we can water you properly.”

Petal stood up to her full height, and looked down her nose at a shockingly pink nubbin spattered with glowing violet dots.  It was almost the size of her head.  A gentle caress of her hand and a slow, sensual press of her lips unearthed another soft, needy moan, and Petal doubled down on her attention.

Shorna’s hips shifted and bucked, both discombobulating the dullahan and making it difficult to tend to the bulb as those looming legs shook in excitement and anticipation.

When Petal became frustrated by the shaking of the hips she locked both hands on the purple-pink bud and held on tight.  Her fingers dug in, and her arms were bounced around, right up until an awkward hop and a bad angle with her elbow leveraged the pleasure bulb in a way it wasn’t designed for.

In a puff of black fire, the dullahan’s clitoris popped free from its hood.

Petal immediately jumped back in surprise, tossing the precious bud into the air.  She fumbled the catch, and the pleasure bud bounced in her hands.  A string of invectives mixed with desperate moaning, and Lady Shorna of the winter fey lost her patience.

“Enough playing, tiny bloomer.  It is time to dig deep and plant the seeds of my completion.  Tend to my flower with the passion it deserves,” Shorna said, pausing to move her head close enough to nose Petal back against her blushing bloom, “or I shall satisfy my hunger with you.  Now go!”

Petal wasted no time, and dove for the depths of Shorna’s blooming lust.  She hugged the fiery bulb to her chest, and used her legs to drive herself forward.  She was shocked to realize her surroundings were glowing that strange off-white she had seen before, then she realized the glowing was coming from herself as well, from everywhere Shorna’s feminine nectar had coated her skin.  She thought it might be a quality of the spicy black flames in her arms, but something else caught her attention before she could reach a conclusion.

A pair of warm lips wrapped around Petal’s still-exposed legs, and a wriggling, searching tongue pressed hard against her ass.  Petal was overwhelmed as Shorna used her mouth to push her pixie gardener deeper into her fertile flower bed.  The heat was everywhere, and the spicy, smokey, flooding musk was all consuming.  The wine still flowed through Petal’s body, and turned the slick, silky walls into a tactile celebration.  Petal’s sex drive was beyond anything she’d experienced, and every sensation was building it higher and higher.

Petal wiggled and wriggled her way deeper inside the pulsating flower bed, and as she approached its depths she began kneading and nibbling on the flesh bud in her hands.  She could hear the racing heartbeat all around her pick up its pace, and the lubricants painted over the passage flowed with another new coat.

Behind her feet Petal could hear a sucking, squishing sound, and through a brief parting in the flower’s passage, she could see a hungry tongue seeking nectar of its own.  Petal groaned at the knowledge Shorna was eating herself out while Petal squirmed deep inside her, and Petal reached a hand for her own needy flower, only to decide on something better.

The dullahan’s clit may be about the size of her head, but with some effort and timing Petal maneuvered it between her legs.  She squeezed the bud against her entire flower, and rode the waves of the walls and the most sensitive part of her unseelie lover in concert.  Petal could hear the moaning, the screaming, the heaving breaths of a fey woman in need, and added her fingers to the touch of her own passion and thighs.  Petal could feel the walls clamp down all around her, and the weeping of the walls nearly submerged her in the nectar of lovemaking.

When the walls eased their grip, something new wriggled against her feet.  In the depths of Shorna’s garden of dreams, Petal found the dullahan’s questing tongue.  It had detached from her mouth, and penetrated deep into the flowers depths under its own power.  Moments later, the hungry pink flatworm was aerating Petal’s flower bed as well.  Petal let the squirming, writhing tongue carry her and the watering bulb to the deepest level of the fleshy flower pot, and Petal thrust the purple-pink nubbin against the pot’s small drainage hole while the tongue writhed and ravaged her body.

Petal couldn’t believe what was happening.  It was so wild, so strange, so sexy and intense.  Her mind and body were coming apart from the intense sexual overload.  Then the walls crushed down again, and all of those sensations were heightened as she found herself gasping for the heavy, musky air.

Beginning to feel as if she was coming apart at the seams, Petal worked her way back to the outside world.  Before she reached it, the hungry tongue decided it was going to help her along.  It wrapped around Petal’s legs, and drew her back into the maw of the impassioned dullahan.  For a moment a corner of Petal’s wine-warped mind panicked that she was about to be eaten, but the rest of her reveled in the sexual contrast of sensual flesh and slick fluids.  Petal found herself a participating observer to the most lewd example of self-gratification she had ever experienced, and it didn’t take long before rubbing the wayward clit between her tits and the tongue brought Shorna to another ear-splitting orgasm.

Petal felt the world fly past her, and suddenly she was back in the flower’s depths, this time with her feet deeper than her head.  She had managed to hold onto the love nub through this latest transition, and she tucked it under her arm as she explored her surroundings.

Her fingers soon brushed over a section of the slick ceiling that felt different from the rest, and with a burble and a giggle, Petal moved until her chest was directly beneath the special spot.  Then she wedged the clit between her tits and the ceiling, and proceeded to savage Shorna’s clit against her g-spot with a vigorous tit job.

The cries from outside were wild and intense, and as the walls closed in around her, Petal found the fleshy, fiery clit pressed tight against her throat.  Her entire body was being crushed in the sexual vice of a fey lady’s orgasm.  She could hear the pleasured screams from mere inches away, and as the sexual nexus of sensitive nerves was crushed ever harder against Petal’s windpipe, she could feel herself moving towards a height of passion she had never known before.

This was it.  She was being crushed inside the fey Lady’s flower, and there was nothing she could do about it.  She was no better than a toy, than some magical aphrodisiac the Lady had consumed earlier in the night.  Her whole body, her whole purpose, her whole existence was being distilled into this single, pleasurable purpose, and in some ways Petal knew her centuries long life had been lived for this moment.  She had been made to tend to this fey Lady’s flower, to bring it to bloom in its fullness, to taste of its nectar, and to strewn its petals with musky dew.

The Lady’s passage pressed tighter and Petal reeled as the dissociation, the cognitive fuzzing closed in around her.  It lifted her sexually charged senses to a dangerous new level, and as the flesh and fluids ensconced her entire existence, as that sensitive bead felt her life being taken for the Lady’s pleasure, Petal’s mind came undone, and she lost herself in a carnal euphoria.

She awoke sometime later, laying in a pool of nectar between midnight thighs, and looking up at the glassy eyes of a satisfied dullahan.  Those soul-piercing eyes briefly dipped down towards Petal, and they regained both a measure of their former vibrancy and a new, wicked glint when Shorna realized her guest had awakened.

“Petal dear, I am pleased to see you well.  The things you were doing inside me, I’m surprised I didn’t crush you.  I would hate to have broken the rules of hospitality.”

Shorna’s eyes looked up to the darkened sky, and Petal’s followed. By her reckoning, they were still some time before midnight, but Petal had completed her task, and satisfied the dullahan.  Now she could sleep, and then-

“Yes, my sweet, I am quite pleased for our first round.  Come here, let me lick you off and prepare you for round two.”

Petal froze, suddenly more concerned than she had been when she arrived in Shorna’s Rise.

“Did I not complete my work?” Petal asked, voice shaking.  She had enjoyed that insane experience, but it had literally rendered her unconscious.  If she had to do this until morning, would she even survive?

Shorna’s giggle was excited and dangerous.

“You have brought me to release, dear pixie, but I would hardly deem your work complete.  When I am so satisfied I cannot move, I will give you leave to rest.  Oh, and before I forget, I decided on the favor I wish to call sometime round my fourth orgasm.  You see, I have yet to acquire for myself a gardener-”

“You told me when I arrived that you only had your personal flower?” Petal asked, half confused, half dreading the answer.  The smug, almost predatory smile chilled Petal to the bone, despite the fae wine still working through her system.

“So I did, my dear pixie, and I was honest in that telling.  Yet I have come to realize that my personal flower needs a gentle, practiced, and nightly tending.  Therefore, I ask of you the favor of becoming my interim gardener, until such a time as I can find a gardener in a more permanent capacity.  Why, I fully expect to have a proper gardener, oh, sometime in the next century, and as you will be tending a single flower, I expect your duties will be reflexive in no time.  So, my dew-dappled Petal, what do you think?  For a blossoming pixie like yourself, I cannot envision a more appropriate way in which you can repay me what I am due.”

“Stop fucking taunting me ya big dick!”

Frankie slammed her fist on the steering wheel of the big-rig, then cursed herself for the abuse.  Nigel had treated her well over the years, hauling all kinds of cargo to all forty-eight of the contiguous states.  They’d had their spats, their breakdowns, even a month-long time-out while Nigel pulled himself back together after some tourist flattened his passenger side with a runaway RV, but Frankie had never met a more reliable man.

Not that she had met many men in this line of work.  Oh, she’d had flings, some good for a night and some messy as all fuck, and even one near got her fired, but they were all ships that passed in the night on this great asphalt ocean.  What they weren’t were men.  They were eager, or energetic, or just wanted to talk, or wanted a connection, but what none of them were was a real, fucking, man.  

Well, not enough of them, anyway.  Nigel, well, he was the closest thing to a man she had in her life, but he suffered from an all-too-common ailment in Frankie’s experience.  She didn’t need to worry about him going soft on her like too many did after blowing their wad - his gear shift was always firm and Frankie new all-too-well how to quickly repair a blowout - but it wasn’t big enough nor hung the right way to stimulate her where she needed.

To make matters worse she had been stuck running back to the same damn city for half a year now, and that limp-dick sissy Carlos had poisoned every trucker in the area away from her sleeper cab.  Frankie was reaching a breaking point.  

And as if the sexual frustration wasn’t bad enough already, it was made all the worse by that big, fucking, building, sitting there at the end of the avenue.  She had been staring at it, virtually unmoving, for the past two hours.  The damn thing had to be thirty stories tall, and it was perfectly round.  The full-faced spread of windows glistening in the early afternoon sun were separated by smooth rings of rounded, polished steel, almost giving it a familiar ribbed look.  To top it all off, it had a super-sciency dome on top for some sort of greenhouse-themed restaurant.  When looked at with the pair of water tanks out front, the entire thing looked like a giant fucking dildo, and after corporate made Frankie get rid of hers because they recorded everything that went on in her cab, the sight had gone from really pissing her off to making her, well, curse out loud at the world.

Would the company make her take some sort of anger-management class for cursing?  Probably, but they weren’t complete dicks.  They understood the effects of traffic jams on the psyche, even if they refused to understand their effects on making her delivery window.  Fucking gridlocks.

You think gridlock traffic is a bitch?  Try squeezing through with 33 tons of truck and tanker to make an already tight delivery time.  She had a two hour delivery window that was going to close in the next ten minutes, she had been able to see her towering destination almost the entire time she should have been there, but because some idiots couldn’t figure out where their fucking gas pedals were, she was going to get dick-all and dimed out of a paycheck.

“I’m so fucking fucked!” Frankie shouted, not for the first time that afternoon.  What the fuck a single restaurant could want with an entire tanker truck of olive oil Frankie had no idea, but at this point she couldn’t see any way to get it to the restaurant, let alone get it unloaded on time.

Suddenly, there was a brilliant flash in the sky.  Frankie blinked a few times, but all she could see was a blinding-white after-image.

“What the fuck was that?  What-“

KA-BOOOOOM!!!

A massive pressure wave smashed down upon the city.  Windows shattered, people were slammed into the ground, car hoods and roofs crumpled, and even poor Nigel’s domed cab had been inverted like a used piece of bubble wrap.

Frankie couldn’t hear much - aside from the blaring alarms of every vehicle in the city - so she didn’t hear the stressing seams of her clothing as the changes began.  With the shock from the pressure wave, she didn’t feel the strain at first, either.  No, she finally realized something was different when she felt her knees lock up under Nigel’s steering wheel.  That’s when she took a good look at herself, and realized she was already a foot taller than she had been when she had started her day.

POP!  RIIIIIP!!  SNAP!!!  CREEEEEAAAK!!!!

In seconds, Frankie’s jeans had snapped along the inseam.  Her shirt ripped and tore into the front and back, the former reading You Know What You And A Deer Have In Common? and the latter reading Stare At My Headlights Again And Find Out.

“What the fuck is - ow!  What the fuck is going on here?”

Frankie was quickly leaving her clothing behind, and rapidly approaching her cabs maximum volume.  Leaning sideways she managed to get a bratwurst-sized finger in the passenger’s door handle, but when she tried to crawl out she found that not only the seatbelt, but the seat, wheel, and center console were all conspiring to hold her in place.

“Dammit Nigel, I didn’t mean it about your gear shift!  Let me go before we both regret this!”

Unfortunately this was one of those disagreements where things didn’t go Frankie’s way, and as a result, both her and Nigel lost out.  She ended up with some bruised hips and a nasty, looming repair bill, and Nigel had the sort of bad conversion to a convertible that even a hack lawyer could win a suit over.

By the time Frankie had recovered her bearings, she was picking herself off the crumpled remains of a cherry-red Mazda, already feeling the pinch in her thigh between Nigel’s broken cab and the Mazda she was… straddling?

Frankie took a look around to get her bearings, and realized the small world around her was smaller than yesterday, and getting even smaller by the minute.  Frankie had no clue what had started all this, but she could see the crumpled cars all around her shifting and moving.

It seemed maybe one in ten had occupants who were experiencing something similar to what Frankie had gone through.  Men and women already eight to ten feet tall and still growing, some of them almost as tall as Frankie was while still kneeling.  Instead of standing, Frankie leaned down for a better view into the still-intact passenger window of the car - well, one of the now two cars she was straddling - and she cursed in surprise.  Inside was a naked woman, no larger than a Pomeranian, banging on the window with a fist.  In her other arm she held a naked man, proportionally the size of a teddy bear to her, and still getting smaller.

Frankie watched as the woman started sobbing, and made one last, futile punch at the glass before she turned around on the armrest and leaned her back against the window.  She held up the smaller man, now maybe the size of a Ken doll to the shrinking woman, and Frankie watched as one of those exhausted sobs turned into a morbid chuckle.  She couldn’t hear the woman over all the commotion of the blaring car alarms and the other, growing people, but she watched as the tiny woman flicked the unconscious man’s tiny, limp dick.

At that moment, something snapped in Frankie.  Here, in the middle of what was rapidly turning into a disaster area, where people now fifteen feet tall are clambering over and crushing unmoving cars, each likely filled with people too small to free themselves - here, in the middle of this madness, that tiny chick for more action from a man smaller than Frankie’s little finger than Frankie had managed in six.  Fucking.  Months!

Frankie looked up at the looming building, the one she should have been to almost two hours ago, the one that was going to cost her an arm and a leg in late delivery fees, the one that some over-compensating architect had designed to look more inviting than any dildo Frankie had ever owned, and she realized that the building was not quite so imposing anymore.  She looked around at all the growing people - some helping others out of their cars, some curling up in the street and trying to hide the growing display of their naked bodies, and some right assholes flexing their new sizes in ways that made looters look innocent by comparison.  Frankie looked around at all these people with newfound power, and realized something.

I’m still kneeling in the street, and yet not a one of these other people is standing taller than me.

She watched as one man, maybe twenty feet tall, approached a woman pushing ten feet, and given her slowing growth, likely not much more.  The man had his soft dick in his hand, and was stroking it in the terrified woman’s face.  Frankie didn’t hesitate to lean forward and grab the man around his waist like she picked up her dad’s ferret as a kid.  The man wriggled and squirmed like a ferret too, but Frankie kept a good grip on him.  He screamed, and suddenly every eye on the street was on her.

Frankie was well, quite a sight.  She was naked on her hand and knees, her dangling D-cup breasts hanging a little lower with age.  Her shoulder-length hair was rumpled and sweaty, plastered unflatteringly against the side of her face.  She had a bit of a paunch, and her hips were a bit more padded than she would have liked.  Folks behind her had a clear view of a puffy slit pierced by sagging, drooling lips.  The lewd sight is only partially seen peeking out from a wild and untamed jungle almost steamy and dripping enough to be classified as a rain forest.  And she was currently forty feet tall at the shoulder, while on her hands and knees, and as the exhibitionist in her hand could attest as her fingers tightened around his chest, she was still growing.

Confused and frustrated by the strange and impossible events, Frankie vented a sliver of her ire by ending the man’s line with a flick of her finger.  She dropped the thirty-foot tall eunuch holding what was left of himself on a side street, and looked down between her legs at the unreasonably-large load of olive oil she had been supposed to deliver, the entire tank now small enough for her to wrap her hands around.

A twist on the daydream that had been building for the past couple hours came to mind, and Frankie chuckled wryly to herself.  The world as she knew it was fucked all to hell, but from the clock tower on the bank she saw she still had two minutes to make her delivery, and the world had seen fit to give her the power to do so.

Frankie wrapped one hand around the tanker, and with a bit of difficulty lifted it free from Nigel’s care.  The damn thing was heavy, but no more than those free weights she bought back when she started trucking, and had misplaced years ago.  She set her sights on the building directly ahead, and not thinking about the consequences, she started walking straight for the tower.

Frankie didn’t slow or stop for anyone or anything.  Little giants fled from her path as her feet, each longer than a pick-up, strode through bumper-to-bumper traffic.  A small corner of Frankie’s mind congratulated herself for reducing noise pollution as alarms were silenced beneath her sweaty, calloused feet, but she paid the implications no further mind.  She was focused on the one object, now about chest height, that might soon scratch an itch - no, satisfy a need - that had been building for half a year.

Frankie didn’t waste too much time on preamble.  As her breasts climbed past the gleaming glass head of the greenhouse restaurant, she lifted the seemingly lighter tank of olive oil to chest height.

“Someone order a few tons of olive oil?  I heard it was youse guys, and I’m tight on time for my delivery window, so if youse don’t mind, I’m just gonna go ahead and unload.”  Frankie twisted, and with a scream of tearing steel the end of the tank was ripped away.  Frankie upended the tank, pouring over ten thousand gallons of olive oil over the domed restaurant.  The gleaming oil poured over the bulbous head of the girthy building, running in streams down the enticingly-ribbed sides.  Frankie shook the truck a few times before running her hands over the now waist-height building, smearing that olive oil to coat every inch of the building.

As she worked, she could see a couple of women inside the restaurant, maybe ten and fifteen feet tall each, were wrapped up in each others arms.  She wasn’t sure, but it looked like they had pulled some of the restaurant’s less-fortunate patrons into their embraces, and had put them to work feeding the Amazonian women.

Frankie wasn’t really into women, but watching them play with men the size of their forearms between their breasts, or shoving women no bigger than their hands inside themselves - it did something to her, speaking to the part of her that prayed - no, that knew she wouldn’t stop growing until she had reached the height she wanted - no, the height she needed.  It was a pale shadow of the feat she intended, the one she would demonstrate before the entire city.

Frankie’s growth didn’t begin to slow until she collapsed her first building.  It wasn’t intentional, her foot had merely grown wider than the street, and it had forced its way into the side of a three-story building.  Without the benefit of load-bearing supports throughout half the building, it promptly fell into a crumbled ruin.

Not long after, Frankie’s growth came to a stop.  She stood with the shin-high building between her legs, it’s bulbous head aimed straight at her source of six months of unbearable need.  Despite the events of the past fifteen minutes, the building still stood tall and proud, an edifice resolutely defending its architect’s pride.  Frankie slowly lowered herself into a rusty squat, her wiry hairs disturbing the slick head as her inflamed lips approach for a hungry, desperate kiss.  Inside, the smaller giants redouble their amorous efforts in honor and anticipation of the unrefined majesty descending to swallow them whole.

Their party can see through the oil-streaked windows as thick, sagging, purple lips squish down upon the restaurants dome.  The air is shattered by a sky-rending bellow of pleasant surprise, as those lips squirk and slather their way across the dome’s surface, gradually swallowing the restaurant in the dark depths of Frankie’s desperation.  As the restaurant is swallowed completely, the few lights on in the restaurant showcase the slick, writhing walls of Frankie’s desperate pussy as it seeks pleasure from more than just the tip.

It’s been too long, Frankie thinks as she slowly sinks onto the building.  She can feel the incredible warmth retained by the steel in the afternoon sun.  She can feel the well-oiled ridges of the building sliding deeper inside of her, traveling ever further to make its own delivery of a pleasurable load to a destination of her choosing.

Feeling the strain from a girth she’s not used to, Frankie eases off before she goes too far.  She glances down to see the mini-giantesses writhing in pleasure at the edge of the dome, with one of the panels removed.  It’s hard to make out the smaller folk standing around the opening, but some of them are pointing up at her.  No, pointing up inside of her.  She watches as one of the larger women, face buried in her girlfriend’s cunt, casts about blindly for a tiny person, eventually finding a strapping lad about as tall as her forearm.  She grabs him by the waist, and casually holds him just outside of the window.

It’s at that moment that Frankie realizes she is experiencing a bit of a tickle a short ways inside of her.  It’s not much, and might even be her imagination playing tricks on her, but it reignites those six months of need, and without another moment of pause, Frankie spears herself on the building’s mighty girth.

Over the next half hour Frankie loses herself to the pleasure, working the building ever deeper, continuing to chase her release long after she has abused her cervix upon its turgid length.

It is only once she feels something moving deeper inside her, beyond even the puckered gate of her cervix, that the full implications of what she’s done begin to reach her in her madness.  She has swallowed an entire building within her hungry cunny, taking its beautiful manhood to her deepest depths, swallowing with it every man and woman sequestered within its steaming depths.  Then to top it all of, a pair of lusty Lizzie’s went and shoved someone even deeper inside of her, penetrating her to her fucking core.

“Oh, fuuuuuuuuuk!”

With the roar of a collapsing mountain, Frankie finally cums.  Gelid streamers slather the building with her titanic release.  Her eyes roll up, and her jaw slackens as part of her mind flounders in a sea of orgasmic pleasure.  Her slick, steaming walls clamp down tight on the building that stands, still remarkably unmanaged.

Then Frankie’s legs give out, and she plops backwards, onto her ass.  As the building is still held tightly within her feminine vice, the building is ripped wholesale from its foundation, and disappears entirely within the cum-drunk trucker.  As her consciousness fades and she collapses onto the financial district for a long-overdue post-orgasm nap, Frankie’s last thoughts are relief that she was able to deliver herself from the trials of her building need.

DEMON’S RISE

"The time has come.  Join me sisters, and begin the incantation.  May the blessings of the spirits protect us on this most foul of All Hallow's Eve."

Seven dulcet voices wove the chorus, and seven brilliant yellow sigils glowed upon the table.  Seven sisters of the coven stood vigil at the seven points of the carved septigram upon the round, wooden table.  Each of the sisters raised their hands, and their chant grew faster, more intense.  The brilliant sigils flared to blinding intensity, and a deep, resounding pressure emanated from their sorcerous working.  Like the weight of a great storm rolling in, the atmosphere of the Phi-Kappa-Delta sorority house grew heavy, almost overbearing.  The scents of sage, thyme, and morning glory softly yet inexorably billowed from the coven’s attic room like an invisible thundercloud, and it grew to fill the entirety of the sorority house.

It wasn’t long before the lively chatter and esoteric melodies of the Halloween party became soft coughs and sneezing.  The benign sussuration of the guests was replaced with the confused tumult of mild choking and frightened murmurs, and when people began to rapidly shrink in upon themselves, the panicked yelling and terrified screams wove a terrible cacophony.  Blessedly, it was only moments later that the screams faded, the panicked party goers too small to be heard.  When the spell had fully run its course, Sabrina, head witch of the coven, brought an end to her sister’s chanting.  She paused just a moment to adjusted her costume’s cowl.  She wore not the stereotypical robes of a witch, but rather a costume designed to blend in with the Halloween party downstairs.  Sabrina had decided to dress much as a protestant woman from the late 1600’s would have.

"The vessels will be small,” Sabrina reminded her sisters, “and time is limited.  Go forth and collect them, and bring them to the dining room, as we planned.  We must complete this task before the host of demons arrives.”  She looked at each of her sisters, pleased to see the weight of this task was not lost upon them.  Five of her sisters nodded.  The sixth sister, Bethany, hesitated.

"Do we really have to do this?" she asked, the blonde twin-tails of her magical girl costume drooping to match her sombre expression.  "These people have done nothing wrong.  They’re innocent in all this.  By the dark one, they’re our classmates, our friends!  Why do they have to die while we get to live on?!"

"Don’t be a fool, Bethany," said dark-haired Bellatrix, in her black, veiled witch’s robe.  Her costume was patterned straight out of that famous wizarding movie, and was based on a character of the same name.  “There is an untold host of demons coming this night, and we must use every advantage we can to keep them from establishing a new Hell on Earth.”  Bellatrix waved her movie-accurate wand in Bethany’s face to emphasize her point.  "This is the first incursion of hell spawn since the late 1600's.  You know what life was like back then, what happened in Salem.  And that was just a single, unprepared demon!  Just one!  Now we have reason to believe they are ready for us, so even one among this horde surviving means millions can and will die.  If they manage to establish their New Hell, countries could fall, and eventually, even civilization itself!"

"But sacrificing innocents?”  Bethany interrupted.  “We can’t become the very evil we are trying to defeat.  There has to be another w-"

"We knew the stakes," Sabrina said, her tranquil voice cutting short that line of thought.  "We know that a demon can only be harmed if it is actively possessing a body.  That is why we need them to possess bodies of our choosing, in a prepared place of our choosing.  By preparing bodies weakened by our magic, and magically booby-trapped by our spells to keep a possessing demon imprisoned in their new vessel until it is destroyed, we are effectively taking away every advantage a demon has.  Our great workings over the past weeks have guaranteed that all demons riding the currents of the returning spirits will be directed to the suppression circle in this sorority house.  Our magics will ensure the demons are forced to possess the prepared vessels-"

"They’re not vessels, damnit!” Bethany interrupted again.  “They're people!  We invited them to our sorority house, to our Halloween party, and they accepted the invitation.  We are hosts, and they are our guests!  Even ignoring the the morality of sacrificing innocents, we are breaking the rules of hospitality.  That alone is a sin that can never...  we can never…"  Bethany's protest faltered, and Sabrina understood the poor girl wasn't arguing, but rather working through her guilt.  All the sisters were coming to terms with their cruelty and imminent loss in their own way.  Of the five stages of grief, Bethany was the only one yet to reach some measure of acceptance.  Still, Sabrina admitted to herself, Bethany’s comment regarding the breach of hospitality had no small degree of merit.  Sabrina knew all too well that after tonight, the sisters were surely damned.

"Enough moping," said Hecate, dressed in her traditional witches garb embellished with fetishes of the goddess for whom she was named.  "We will all mourn later.  For the time being, we must concern ourselves with the demon’s imminent arrival.  We should be about collecting the, the vessels.  Once they’re all gathered, take a moment to settle your stomachs.  You know what we must do once the demons arrive."

The Ravenwatch Coven descended from the attic, and began the lengthy process of coaxing tiny, two-inch-tall sorority sisters and their similarly-sized guests from their hiding places.  Simply looking wouldn’t be sufficient, the girls knew.  Coaxing the tinies was their best bet, and they used a smattering of lies and half-truths to gather them.  

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you.”

“Please, I don’t want a spider to get you, come on out so I can help you.”

"I was upstairs, whatever did this didn't reach me, that’s why I’m still full sized."

When people stopped coming forward, some simple detection spells and the overwhelming strength of the size disparity was enough to coax the remaining vessels into the coven’s clutches.

An hour after their spell shrank every sorority sister, guest, and party-crasher, sister Ashlyn in her sexy bunnygirl costume and sister Raevin in her aarakocra cosplay stood before a plastic kiddiepool, which the coven had set upon the dining room table.  An assortment of mixing and serving bowls sat on the table around them, settled among the cluttered Halloween decorations.

The sisters worked together, Ashlyn stripping the clothing from the vessels as they were taken from the collection bowlsand identifying them.  Raevin then marked them off on the annotated guest list, and Ashlyn added the naked tiny to the kiddiepool.  When the bowls were empty, there were two names that remained unmarked.

"Are we missing any?" Bethany asked.

“Yeah, a couple.  Chad Smith, aaaand... Ah, Kelly Richards," Raevin answered.  "Figures the quarterback and cheer-captain are missing.  I’d be surprised if they weren’t off having a private party.  Do you know if anyone double-checked the bedrooms?"

"I saw Evelynn headed that way about ten minutes ago," Ashlyn said, "but I doubt Chad and Kelly are together.  Chad cheated on Kelly's BFF a few months ago, so when Chad tried to get with the cheer-captain, she turned him down.  I think last week was the fifth time she told him to take a hike."

“Oh, I hadn’t heard,” Raevin said.  “But, wasn’t Evelynn crushing on Kelly?  I know Kelly treated Evelynn like shit, but I thought there was still a candle burning bright there," Raevin argued.  When Ashlyn shrugged, ignorant of the weird love-lambda, Raevin handed Ashlyn the clipboard with the guest list.  "Tell you what, you watch the vessels, and I'll go check to make sure Evelynn isn’t doing something she shouldn’t."

In the farthest bedroom, sprawled atop a rumpled, pink, waterproof fuck-blanket, lay Evelynn.  She was propped up against a pile of pillows, and her tits were on full display.  Her sexy miniskirt and spade-tail thong from her demoness costume had been stripped off, and lay in a pile at the foot of the bed.  Evelynn’s eyes were closed in pleasure and concentration, and her hands massaged her puffy brown nipples.  The erotic act would have been enticing for any voreuristic lesbian like Raevin, but what really caught her attention was the unexpected flurry of motion below Evelynn’s waist.  Laying across Evelynn’s soft, pink lips was a two-inch-tall Chad, and the tiny quarterback was bootlegging it for the touchdown as he humped that puffy, glistening vulva.  Tiny though the quarterback may be, Raevin had to admit she admired Chad's stamina as he pounded away at Evelynn's massive pussy.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Raevin asked, amused, as she stepped into the room.  She nodded at the thrusting tiny.  "Can you even feel him down there?  Is his tiny little prick even doing anything for you?"

"Mmmnn, it’s not about the penetration, Raevin," Evelynn said.  “It's about the payback.”  Having overheard the giant woman disregard his manhood, Chad redoubled his thrusting.  "Oh!  Mmm, that’s good.  If you have to know, yeah, he kinda is making me feel good, though not on his own.  I’m getting off on what he’s doing to my gorgeous new fucktoy."

Framed in the supple embrace of the opening to Evelynn's clenching vagina, Raevin spotted a tiny, toned ass.  Cheer-captain Kelly had been bent in half, and had been shoved head and feet first into Evelynn’s hungry, jealous cunt, only to serve as a squirming cock-sleeve for the man she hated most in the world.

Raevin watched with morbid curiosity as Chad pounded the tiny red ass, and had to admit to herself she could see why someone might get off on the revenge play, especially coupled with that pure physical domination.  She watched as, thrust after thrust, Kelly’s tiny tush all but disappeared into Evelynn’s twitching puss.  Yet, despite the rough pounding, Kelly never disappeared completely.  After every thrust Evelynn clenched her Kegels, and the pressure within pushed Kelly that little bit further out, resetting the cheerleader for Chad's next tiny hammer blow.

"Look," Raevin began, stepping away before she could get pulled in.  "I get you're busy with, uh, whatever the fuck this is, but finish up.  That horde of powerful demons will be here in about thirty minutes, and I'd feel better if all of the prepared vessels were in the weakening spell by then."

Evelynn saluted, and slipped her fingers under Chad.  She maneuvered her fingers onto the cheerleader’s chafed red ass, and firmly pushed Kelly deep inside of herself.  “Oh, fuck!” Evelyn sighed.  “Mnh!  Oh, get the fuck inside me you beautiful, hateful bitch,” she moaned.  Moments later her groaning grew louder as her slick, cum-drenched fingers slid behind Chad’s back, and with an eager, needy on his torso, the quarterback was forced to follow.

Loud, staccato cries of pleasure echoed from the bedroom, and followed Raevin down the hall as she left.  By the time Raevin returned to the common room, Evelynn's orgasmic wails could be heard throughout the entire sorority house.

Fifteen minutes after Raevin left Evelynn to her pleasures, the sisters of the Ravenwatch Coven were dressed and assembled in the dining room.  The seven sisters all stood at their assigned places around a plastic pool of naked college students.  Within the cheap blue walls covered with cartoon fish and sea creatures, the tiny people cried, complained, consoled one another, or were simply too distraught and overwhelmed to move.  Raevin’s eyes caught sight of two particularly pungent vessels standing off to the side, and noted that though they seemed worse off than the others, they were still in one piece despite their rough collection method.

"How much time do we have left before the demons arrive?" Bellatrix asked.

"It's two ‘til eleven, so they’ll be here in approximately fifteen minutes," Bethany said.  Her voice was hollow and emotionless, but her speech was even, despite the tears upon her face.  Her hand was inside the pool of waiting vessels, and her trembling fingers were caressing her tiny boyfriend's naked back.  Sabrina knew that Bethany had given Terrance a passionate, yet vague warning that he was to stay home tonight, and avoid the party at all costs.  Sadly for him, he had shown up to the party to surprise his beloved girlfriend.  The sight of the nearly-broken woman comforting her doomed lover brought a pleased smile to Sabrina’s lips.

"I'll make one last check of the seals," Sabrina announced, and she adjusted her period costume one more time before she set off.  "Our mission here, tonight, is too important to leave anything to chance.  We have all sacrificed enough already, whether we’re counting acquaintances, friends, lovers, or even our own humanity.  I will leave no room for mistakes.  I promise you, sisters, that none shall escape our trap."

Her sisters nodded, eyes roaming across the tiny sea of familiar vessels.  They had lived with these women, studied and played games with them.  Many of the guests were friends of the coven as well, though no one knew the witches as anything more than a silly occult club that met in the attic.

The sisters had to be contemplating what it meant that none would escape.  Not all of these people would be irreversibly possessed by demons this night.  It might be the majority of them, or it might be less than a quarter.  But they were dealing with demons, the biblical and mythological masters of deception.  Any vessels who were untouched by demonic possession would be functionally indistinguishable to the coven from a cunning demon.  Every single one of these former friends would have to be consumed to truly foil the demonic invasion, even if they were completely free of demonic possession.  Sabrina left her sisters to think on the implications of that with a warm smile.

Back upstairs in the ritual room, Sabrina set aside a towel, and picked up an old and intricately-crafted hourglass.  It had lain on its side, with the sand deliberately and unevenly split between the two chambers.  Sabrina raised it before her, and her eyes shone deep red.  Magic manifested and began to act, despite the fact Sabrina uttered no words or chant.  The crimson glow was mirrored within the hourglass, and then the time piece began to glow all on its own.  Sabrina set it upright upon the table, with the half containing more sand on top.  She set it in the exact center of the carved and glowing septigram, with its seven yellow seals conjured over an hour ago still shining strong at the each of the points.

As the hourglass was set to rights, the glowing red sand began to fall, and thin, oppressive red rings manifested around the edges of each of the seven sigils upon the table.  With every grain that fell, the red bands spread imperceptibly closer to the centers of the glowing sigils.

"That should give us plenty of time," Sabrina purred.  She left the attick, but paused to lock the attic door.  She reset the combination with a dark chuckle to a new one of her own choosing, then she turned each dial exactly four clicks, so the face of the dials now read 0-0-0.

When Sabrina returned downstairs, all the sisters had their hands in the pool among the vessels.  Ashlyn, like Bethany, was trying to comfort a weeping tiny.  After a moment, Sabrina recognized the tiny, naked woman as her chemistry TA.  Sabrina recalled a few nights that the TA had stayed late for some tutoring sessions, and remembered the dulcet tones of that sweet duet echoing into her dreams.

Along another stretch of the pool, Belletrix and Hecate were demonstrating their magic for their doomed friends.  Short chants and some finger waving conjured shooting sparks above the pool, or levitated a few of the tiny vessels.  The magic display was exciting and new, and the magic and mystique of their performance helped to take the vessels minds off of their predicament.  It was a small kindness, to ease the passing of the vessels final hour in this world.

Raevin and Evelynn, however, had a different goal in mind.  Those two had dealth with their guilt by deciding to double down on their cruelty.  If you were already damned, how much worse can things get?  Sabrina knew the mentality all too well.  She watched as the sisters tormented the jocks who wouldn’t give them the time of day, and the bitchy cheerleaders who would insult and demean them.  They took to pairing off the players and the cheerleaders who hated each other most, and forced them to fuck right there, in the wide-open pool, in front of everyone.

Raevin had two thick-thighed cheerleaders, or the bases on their classic pyramid, laying with legs spread wide.  They were each laying on top of a petite cheerleader who served as one of the fliers.  It was an arguably cruel reversal, making the lightest girls serve as a fuck stand for the heaviest, most muscular girls as they were railed by young, virile, and well-muscled jocks.  Sabrina could see their tiny arms shaking with the strain.

A linebacker and a tight end had each claimed one of the exposed cheerleaders, and by Raevin's direction the boys were railing them with abandon.  The linebacker thought he was fancy, and started switching between the base’s pussy and the flier’s tight little snatch with each thrust, but it threw off his rhythm, and Raevin stepped in.  She set the pad of a finger on each of the jocks' asses, and alternated tapping them to speed them up and add some oomph to their efforts.

Evelynn, still high on her recent conquest, had taken a different approach.  She had encircled a bunch of jocks around a ring of kneeling cheerleaders, with a disheveled Chad and devastated Kelly in the center.  She had the girls using their perky tits and slobbering tongues to work the jocks to the edge of orgasm.  Once a jock was ready to blow, they moved to the center and finished in Kelly’s cum-covered mouth, as she rode Chad cowboy-style like a jockey on a racehorse.  Eager cock after cock speared her bruised and puffy lips to find its way down Kelly’s throat, and the edging jocks groaned with satisfaction and released their thick, salty loads.  Even as the jocks were choking the cheerleader with their fat cocks, Kelly did not pause or disrupt her wild ride.  With a quick detection spell, Sabrina detected a motive spell at play, forcing Kelly’s body to keep riding long after she would have collapsed.

Sabrina was pleased with events thus far.  She found perverse delight in this debaucherous prelude to the imminent carnage.

Inside the pool, little Chad had finally hit his peak.  He bellowed his insignificant release to the world, and as he came, the sorority house lights flickered and dimmed.  The sisters of the coven jerked their hands from the pool, though Sabrina noticed Bethany's hand was not empty as it should have been.  Its squirming contents went directly into her magical girl costume's belt pouch.  Sabrina should have known the girl would try to play the hero.  Fortunately, she knew their workings were too exacting for Bethany’s cowardly betrayal to cause any problems.

As the lights dimmed further, a bright, yellow pattern illuminated the floor of the pool.  It was a unique working, but it seemed to encompass elements from all seven of the key seals still glowing up in the attic.  The light was warm and radiant, but it was unexpected, and not the only development in the pool.  The sudden changes prompted the vessels to scream and cry out, but their commotion wasn’t heard for long.  Above the cries of the living arose a keening wail, swelling to a cacophony of forlorn cries and sepulchral caterwauling no living soul could hope to vocalize.  Shadows, indistinct and ephemeral, began to arise from the pool.  The dark clouds were soon joined by vaguely humanoid figments of icy blue and bone white.  The pale specters circled the room a few times, before they began passing unhindered through the walls.  Only oleaginous smears of ectoplasm marked their passing. 

Though most of the pale ghosts departed, the frosty phantoms finished their circuit of the room, only to drift menacingly towards the sisters.  The closest one extended a wispy claw towards Bethany, but with a swift chant, a golden aura radiated from Raevin, and the figure screeched and fled, shattering the window.  The sisters followed Raevin’s example, and all were soon surrounded by a radiant light, though Sabrina’s was more illusion than protection.

As the ghosts filtered out through the walls, and the specters left through doors and windows, the darker figures that first appeared began to sink into the shadows.  In moments, the room’s dark corners were roiling with malevolent despair.  Ashlyn cursed, then chanted an abjuration Sabrina had taught her for this occasion.  The darkness quickly settled, though Sabrina kept an eye on the shadows.  They were much deeper than before, and she couldn’t afford for them to harm her coven.

With the last of the annoyances out of the way, the special guests finally arrived.  From within the pool echoed the sounds of roaring flame, clacking chitin, horrid screaming, and malicious laughter.  An evil red aura seeped up from beneath the golden seal, and spread out to completely fill the pool.  Before the sanguine aura stabilized, the terrified cries of the vessels merged with tortured shrieking.  The dense demonic aura was constrained to seven inches above the lip of the pool, and it began to recede as it rapidly concentrated around the tiny vessels.  Then the golden pattern on the pool bottom shone, piercing through the invasive red aura.  The deluge of rising spirits slowed to a trickle, then ceased.  The red aura faded, and the vessels grew quiet.

"Is it over?" Bellatrix asked, her magic-enhancing wand pointing at the closest remaining spirits still circling the dining room.

"Not quite," Sabrina said, her eager gaze upon the human sacrifices.

There was a crackling sound, then the screaming in the pool resumed.  Many vessels began transforming, assuming twisted, demonic forms.  Some turned red, their bodies growing the goat horns and lashing rat’s tails of pride demons, while others were encased in the terrible black carapace of sloth.  Some shrank to a half-inch tall, their greedy, impish bodies now skeletally thin with leathery wings.

The sorority’s advisor swelled into a towering, gluttonous, six-inch monstrosity, and immediately grabbed the nearest vessels.  One hand shoved a woman up her blubbery, drooling cunt, and another fed a cute, freckled nerd to her greasy ass.  A third hand grabbed a smaller demon and pressed it to her swelling, bulbous breast, where the nipple oozing black sludge opened wide and swallowed its prey.  The fourth arm palmed cheerleader by the back of her head, lifting her high, and shoving her headfirst down that yawning, insatiable throat.

Similar monsters of sin and terror wreaked havoc among the humans. Sabrina watched amused as one of the 'terrified' vessels fled into the arms of a big, strong man, only to pull him into a deep, soul-sucking kiss.  The playacting demon slurped down his soul before screaming at his collapsing corpse, and running away in search of a new protector and victim.

The witches stood encircling the table, watching as the chaos unfolded.  They had to be imagining what would have happened had the demons not been constrained in this convenient microcosm.  She watched their faces harden as they resolved themselves to do what must be done.  The sisters had no reliable method to tell which of these tiny beings were playacting demons and which were victims, and so, as Sabrina pre-ordained, all of the tinies must be destroyed.  The fact that Sabrina could detect demonic possession was a secret she kept entirely to herself.

Bethany was the first to act.  Horrified by the carnage unfolding before her, she slammed her fist into the pool.

"Enough!" she shouted, as her fist splattered a goat-legged demon of pride.  Everyone froze, human, demon, and witch alike.  It would seem the demons had only just noticed their predicament as toy-sized prisoners of the coven.  From the grisly remains beneath Bethany’s fist, a cloud of red mist seeped from the crushed demon, and hovered menacingly for a moment.  Then the pensive moment passed, and the cloud shot forth, engulfing a nearby man.  He screamed in anguish as the cloud sank into his body.  Suddenly his muscles gained definition and his skin reddened.  A pair of goat horns sprouted from his forehead, and his legs grew shaggy, fuzzy hair, his feet melting into cloven hooves.  In moments, another pride demon stood in the man’s place.

"Thank you, Bethany," Sabrina said.  She loomed over the pool, drawing all eyes.  "Welcome, hell spawn, into my coven's trap.  Your demonic essence has been gathered to this place through the workings of my coven over the past few weeks, and we have trapped you into these suppressed vessels.  Your power is now limited to the physical abilities of your puny scale.  We have effectively ended your invasion of Earth before it ever began."  Sabrina cast her senses over the crowd, turning her attention to a couple devoid of demonic energies.  "To the humans caught as collateral in our trap, you have my apologies.  We knew not the number nor composition of the demons that arrived tonight, and my sisters cannot determine between whom among you are possessed, and who are simply unfortunate souls.  I'm sorry, but your lives must be snuffed out along with all of the demons.  It's the only way to be sure."

The screaming in the pool resumed, alongside a slate of inhuman roars and demonic cursing.  Sabrina nodded to her sisters, and picked up a demonic slime-girl who still retained enough of her host’s appearance to identify her as Sabrina’s lab partner.  Sabrina slurped her up without hesitation, savoring the taste of the mostly un-aspected demonic energy along with the gelatinous texture.  Sabrina could have done without the sulfurous aftertaste, but she was in no position to complain.  Given that killing the host simply allowed the demon to move on and possess a new vessel, consuming these demons was the only way to ensure they actually died.  When Sabrina maneuvered the gelatinous mass to the back of her throat and swallowed, her sisters took that as their cue to join the feast of purification.

The expressions of the coven were mixed.  Some of the sisters were delighted by the prospect of literally eating the demons to death, while others were horrified that they were slurping down their friends and classmates while they were still alive.  Then there was Evelynn, who creamed her panties while tonguing the spicy succubus pussy of the demoness that had possessed cheer-captain Kelly.  The tiny cheerleader was now even more buxom and curvaceous, with tiny horns and bat-like wings, and a prehensile, spade-tipped tail.  Evelynn grabbed one of the few surviving cheerleaders, and shoved the tiny woman into her mouth beside the voluptuous succubus.  The witch then sucked on them like a hard candy as the demon fucked the life from the cheerleader in tiny fountains of cum.

Tearing her eyes from the incredibly sexy sight, Sabrina saw a potential problem.  "Remember to consume the whole body, and not to break them," Sabrina said, looking pointedly at Belletrix.  The demoness that the witch had just choked down had the lower body of a spider.  In the process of forcing the demon down her throat, a chitinous leg had been caught in her teeth, and like a spinach leaf it was on full and distracting display.

Sabrina paced herself, reluctant to eat most of the demons herself.  She focused on humans, or the lustful incubi and succubi.  One of the higher order demons, a lamia variant called a marilith, embodied both envy and lust.  Sabrina watched as the demon molested a human woman, letting its demonic lust come to prominence.  Sabrina grabbed the demon by its six-inch tail, and lifted it high overhead.  Sabrina took the time to admire the demoness’ voluptuous feminine torso, and the six strong, toned arms wrapped sensually and possessively around the demon’s unwilling passenger.   The demoness startled when Sabrina’s sexy mouth opened below it, and she dropped the woman on Sabrina's tongue.

Sabrina appreciated the woman’s taste, her tongue’s caresses detecting both fear and involuntary arousal.  She played with the tiny until she felt the woman shudder in pleasure, then swallowed her whole.  The demoness' feminine torso soon followed her human victim, and Sabrina took the time to truly savor this one.  Biding her time, Sabrina let her sisters consume more of the demons and, unwittingly, the humans as well.  Only when Ashlyn looked questioningly at her did Sabrina swallow, slurping the tail like spaghetti.

Sabrina next grabbed a women's hockey player devoid of demonic energy.  On a whim, Sabrina surreptitiously dropped her to the floor, where the tiny landed hard, and struggled to breathe.  The outline of Sabrina’s leg blurred, and her bare, blood-red foot descended upon the tiny's back.  The buttery-smooth skin of those crimson toes curled over the winded woman's shoulders, and the razor-sharp tips of Sabrina’s wicked black toenails rent furrows in the floor.  A contemptuous sneer parted Sabrina's lips, and her weight shifted.  The tiny flattened with a satisfying crunch, her entire existence now condensed into a bloody, yet imperceptible stain on Sabrina's sole.

These scenes continued for a time, with witches consuming demons and humans alike. Sabrina focused on eating the lust-filled demons, or took advantage of her illusion hiding the existence of her spade-tipped tail to slip humans out of the pool while no one was looking.  The pure humans taken in this way were given a one-way trip up Sabrina’s own drooling pussy.  Sabrina even made it a point to steal Bethany's belt pouch while the crying girl choked down her still-human roommate.

Their grim task continued for a time, some of the sisters still finding it in themselves to relish their grim task, while the others fought their gorge to do their duty.  All the while Sabrina kept hold of her growing power.  Her form was somewhat malleable, particularly in terms of height, and she could feel her limits expanding from an amazonian nine feet tall up towards a towering twelve feet of height, but she allowed none of it to show.  It was too early, and she was far too close to her endgame to give herself away now.  Fortunately, she didn’t have long to wait.  After only thirty minutes the pool was practically empty.

Evelynn looked at her bloated, disgusted sisters, and took it upon herself to choke down the ravenous, six-inch monstrosity they had all 'overlooked' until the end.  She lifted the blubbery demon of gluttony, opened her jaws wide, and stuffed the demon’s head, and shoulders into her mouth, working hard to fit its monstrous breasts inside her mouth.  Hecate belched, and moved closer, using a spell she’d developed for fun times with her boyfriend to take away Evelynn’s gag reflex, and increase the elasticity of her lower jaw and throat.  It took some forceful stuffing to move the demon’s spherical belly between Evelynn’s jaws, as it was still full of half-digested prey, but after much effort and many desperate swallows, Evelynn managed to fully consume the last of the demons.  Hecate nodded at her approvingly, simultaneously impressed and disgusted by the feat.

"That is the last of them,” Belletrix said with finality.  “With that one’s ending, our task is complete.  May their souls find rest in the world beyond."

"Actually, sisters, I’m sorry to announce that we are not quite finished with our task," Sabrina said, and her tone drew six wary, weary looks.  "Bethany seems to have forgotten to dispose of one of the vessels she took."  Sabrina opened the belt pouch, and Bethany paled as her boyfriend was lifted from the pouch.  The other sisters gasped at the betrayal of trust.

"Bethany," Hecate said coldly, her tone of voice dark and damning.  "Your naivety has endangered not just the sisterhood, but the entire world.  We cannot risk a demon roaming free."

"I agree," said Sabrina, with a coy smirk.  "This vessel must still be disposed of.  Sisters, shall we have Bethany prove her conviction to the coven with an act of contrition?"  There were approving nods and murmurs all around.  "We are in agreement.  Sister Bethany, open wide.  You have one last service to perform for your coven."

Sabrina suppressed a grin when only Raevin noticed the finality of her turn of phrase.  She didn't have to suppress it long, however, as Sabrina’s centuries of scheming interfered with her moment of fun.

Upstairs in the coven’s ritual room, the final grains of sand fell within the hourglass. The brilliant yellow sigils upon the table glowed yellow no longer.  The warm light had been almost entirely corrupted with a sanguine hue, and when the final grain came to rest upon the pile of sand, the sigils of the septigram flared with power.  When the brilliance faded to a dull emanation, the jagged symbols were an ominous and unbroken blood red.

Downstairs in the dining room, as the sigils flared upstairs, so too did the sisters scream as one.  The soft yellow glow of their abjurations shattered, and a bloody mist condensed around them.  Every one of the sisters had long since established passive wards to protect them from mundane threats, and to give them time to react to hostile magics, but in this place, their defenses failed them.  As any good witch knows, they must calibrate their wards to ignore their own workings, else the magical workings for beauty and health would fail to take effect.  Thus, through vanity, the coven’s doom was ensured.  

The very same workings they had used to prepare their friends as vessels for the demonic horde were now turned upon them by the blackest of magics.  When it mattered most, the sister’s protections failed to save them from the demon that had been lurking among them since the very beginning.

The women dwindled away, and Sabrina wasted no time collecting them in the pool.  Though their workings were designed to transform all humans, witches included, into two-inch tall, booby-trapped demonic vessels, the spell was tailored for humans and earthly magics.  The size-reducing portion of the magics failed to properly account for humans who had consumed large amounts of demonic energy.  Furthermore, it failed to account for the fact that through consumption, the demonic energy was de-aspected and refined, making it six point six six times more powerful.   All of these factors combined meant that when the sisters of the Ravenwatch coven ceased their shrinking, Bethany was the smallest among them, at a comparatively larger three inches tall.  Most of the sisters hovered between five and seven inches, but Raevin towered above her shrunken sisters at a massive thirteen inches tall.

"Sabrina!  What happened?  What are you doing?" asked Hecate, but Sabrina ignored her for the time being.  

Instead, Sabrina took a deep, victorious breath, and let it out with a malevolent chuckle.  Now, with none nearby who could hope to oppose her, Sabrina released the ever vigilant stranglehold she kept on her aura of lust.  She could count on one hand the number of times she had fully unleashed it these past three and a half centuries.  Her demonic power was strong enough that her aura blanketed the entire sorority house, and she could immediately see signs of its effects upon the witches.  Most of them blushed, and all of them fidgeted, fighting to keep their gazes upon Sabrina’s face, rather than her hefty bosom, or each others tantalizing and conveniently naked forms.  Evelynn’s self control failed yet again when she reached out at head height and caressed one of Raevin’s mouthwatering thighs.  The sight brought a toothy smile to Sabrina’s face, but her eyes returned to the sister she had been about to torment before her own plans got in her way.

"Oh my, Bethany dear, did the demonic forms repulse you, or did you have a taste for your fellow humans?" Sabrina taunted the girl.  "I regret I wasn't fast enough to feed you your human lover, but I have a new plan in mind for him.  Still, I have to ask, do you have a sadistic taste for innocents, or were you too weak to stomach an obvious demon.  Either way, thinking about kind, caring Bethany feasting on her helpless, innocent victims is really getting me going.  I’m literally dripping with excitement.”  Sabrina emphasized her meaning by rubbing the tiny man she still held in her hand against her alluring crotch.  Every one of the sister’s eyes followed the movement, and Evelynn bit her lip to stop herself from moaning at the sight.  

“And you, Raevin.” Sabrina continued, switching focus for the moment to make a point.  “I can tell you enjoyed the grotesqueries of the demon-possessed.  You consumed more demonic energy than all of your sisters combined.  You have done me a great service.  I am truly so proud of you."  Sabrina used a finger to give Raevin headpats, then ran a wicked black nail gently down the larger sister’s front and between her naked breasts, leaving a hair-thin partition of skin and a faint, bloody trail in its wake.  All eyes had been on the finger when it had transformed from the manicured nail of a sorority sister to the razer-sharp demonic claw, and now the trapped witches followed the crimson digit back along the arm and up to Sabrina's towering true form.

Sabrina’s supple, blood-red skin was on full display, as were her voluptuous curves and glowing red eyes with heart-shaped pupils.  Wicked horns curved over voluminous black hair, and a spaded tail swished suggestively behind her.  From her shoulders sprouted a pair of supple black wings, and something about the soft flesh of the membranes made one want to feel and caress them.  Sabrina loomed over her betrayed coven in all her glory.  She loomed menacingly, like a demonic goddess ascended from hell to damn them for eternity.  She could see the fear in their eyes, and she relished in it, but fear was not where the bulk of her power lay.

Six pairs of eyes watched as her elegant fingers trailed her wicked nails over massive, perky breasts, leaving the crimson flesh unharmed.  They stared hungrily when Sabrina submerged Bethany's boyfriend in the yawning hellhole that would have been called cleavage on a mortal woman.  Sabrina made a point of tweaking her hot-pink nipples, sending alluring waves of motion through the jiggling fun bags.  When the tiny women on the table began to drool, she pushed their attention further South.  Those gorgeous hands caressed her washboard stomach, and her index finger circled the dark navel where a belly button would have been on a human.  On the demoness there was only a small depression, like a dimple on the abs, but it was the perfect size and shape for licking.  Then Sabrina’s hands converged on a hairless pubis, the red flesh tattooed with an intricate weave of hot pink and abyssal black.  The design was otherworldly, but evocative of twining limbs and twisting, thorny vines.  Finally, Sabrina set her hands on the low table and bent at the waist, hovering her bodacious breasts over the edge of the pool, as a pair of tiny feet protruded from the bottom of the forbidden valley.

"Oh?” Sabrina said in mock surprise.  “It would seem everyone is staring at little old me.  Is there something on my face?" Sabrina joked.  She gave herself a long, mocking once-over.  "Ah, yes, I forgot to mention.  Do you recall that demon invasion I mentioned, that occurred back in the late seventeenth century?  It would seem that one demon incursion was far more successful than any mortals realized.  In fact, it’s entirely possible that demon survived the witch hunts, and eventually consumed enough souls to manifest a physical body of her own in this mortal world.  Perhaps she even proceeded to invite the next demonic invasion, advising that hell send as many demons as could be prepared for the invasion, only to realize that feeding demonic energy to humans would concentrate and de-aspect that power, priming it for absorption and re-aspecting into denser concentrations of my personal brand of lust energy."

"W-what are you saying?" Hecate asked.

Sabrina ignored Hecate yet again, and refocused back on Bethany.  She grabbed the tiny witch and licked her lovely, naked body.  Sabrina paid special attention to her erogenous zones, using every skill, trick and technique her experienced forked tongue could ply upon the tiny woman to enhance her desire and arousal.  With tender caresses, focused pressure, and full-body envelopment with her supple tongue, Sabrina brought little Bethany to the brink of orgasm, but before she pushed the little woman to her unholy release, she retrieved Bethany's boyfriend from her cleavage. Se set him on her hand beside his abruptly clam-jammed lover.  She could see the way little Bethany looked at her man.  She retained a degree of guilt and pity for what she had done to the man, but her desire was billowing over, and she looked ready to pounce and mount her man so she could ride him to her desperate completion.  The boyfriend, on the other hand, looked a bit ragged.  His erection was hard as steel, but unlike his lover, he wasn’t ready to pound her into the eternity.  Rather, he had the look of a man who just wanted to take his love into his arms, and hold her until the worst was passed.

Bah.  Sabrina hated love.  It was the only thing that could try to oppose her.  It wa a shame, really.

“Terrence, do you love Bethany?”

He gulped, and nodded vigorously.  “I do.  More than anything.  More than life itself.”

Sabrina leaned closer, her heart-shaped pupils flashing as she concentrated a full third of her lust aura upon the man.

“You love her, do you?” Sabrina asked with a vulnerable pout.  “But Terrence, what do you think of me?”

“I worship you,” he said with fiery passion, and without hesitation.  “I'd give anything to be with you, Mistress.  I would cast aside everything I have for you!”

Sabrina raised an elegant eyebrow.  “Does that include your horny little lover?” she asked.

“Gladly, Mistress!  You have but to ask it of me, and I would burn the world for you!”

Sabrina nodded.  “Thank you, Terrence.  That is exactly what I wanted to hear.  Now, what I want you to do for me is simple, and will even feel good for your lovely little girlfriend.”  Sabrina held the edge of her hand against her chin, and licked her pouty lips.  “I want you to bend your little slut over my lip, then I want you to fuck her good and hard like a bitch in heat.  Then, when you’ve made her cum for me good and hard, I want you to feed her to me.”

“Your desire is my life’s purpose, Mistress,” he said.

Terrence wasted no time.  He lifted a horny and confused Bethany by the waist, spun her around, and bent her over Sabrina's lower lip.  The coven watched their sister’s tiny boyfriend fuck her raw in the mouth of the horny demoness.  Terrence pounded her little pussy like a man possessed, and her cries of pleasure were music to Sabrina’s ears.  She wanted the little witch to get lost in her lust, to drown in her desire, to completely aspect all of that demonic energy trapped in her tiny body into the perfect meal for a hungry succubus like Sabrina.  When Bethany came, the coven watched their smallest sister’s squirming outline descend behind those perfect breasts.  After a kiss and a thank you, Terrence’s smaller outline followed blissfully moments later.

A burst of lust-attuned demonic energy flooded Sabrina, and she physically grew to nine feet tall as she fought to maintain her reduced size.  The potent lust energy she’d absorbed from the smallest witch increased her maximum height from twelve to forty feet tall.  She reigned in her expanded lust-aura, lest it provoke a campus-wide orgy unseen since her progenitor burned Rome.

Sabrina, horns brushing the dining room ceiling, let out a tremendous burp and giggled.  Now that her power was so thoroughly reinforced, Sabrina decided she could take the time to finally answer Hecate’s earlier questions.

"I can see the questions in your eyes.  ‘What is she going to do to us?  Is there anything we can do to save ourselves?’  Let me make your position quite clear.  The six - sorry, the five of you are now my playthings, and will remain as such until I digest you one-by-one.  I want you to know that you can delay your fate, and enjoy pleasures beyond your wildest dreams, if only you serve me faithfully.  But that does not mean your lives will be spared.  All of you will pass on your demonic energy to me, and the order in which that happens will be decided by how well you serve me.  The one who pleases me least will feed me next.  Now, as for how I’m going to keep you, know that you are no longer human.  From the moment you consumed demonic energy, you became little more than a demonic energy bar, cooked up for the express purpose of fueling my conquest of Earth.”

Sabrina smiled at the horrified expressions on those flushed cheeks, and reached for the largest of her new two-in-one snacks and playthings.  “Now, take a deep breath Raevin," she said, grabbing the girl while spreading her glistening labia to accept her vagina’s new resident.  “I want you writhe, squirm and enjoy the plushest seats in the world from which to watch this demon’s rise.”

"It’s time.  Begin the chant.  May spirits protect us this foul Hallow's Eve."

Seven voices wove the chorus, and seven sigils glowed upon the table.  Seven sisters at the seven points of the septigram raised their hands, and the background noise of the Phi-Kappa-Delta sorority house transformed.

Laughter and conversation became confused tumult, then terrified cacophony.  Moments later the screams faded, and Sabrina ceased her sister's chanting.

"We should corral them, before the demons arrive," she said, adjusting her pilgrim’s cowl.  Five sisters nodded.  The sixth, Bethany, hesitated.

"Must we do this?" she asked, her magical girl twin-tails drooping.  "So many innocents.  Our classmates!  Our friends?!"

"Demons come," said dark-haired Bellatrix, waving her movie-accurate wand.  "It’s their first incursion since the 1600's, in unprecedented numbers.  Even one surviving means millions will die.  Countries could fall, even civilization itself!"

"But sacrificing innocents?  There has to-"

"We knew the stakes," Sabrina said, her tranquil voice ending the argument.  "Only demons possessing a body can be harmed, and our spells imprison them in a vessel until it is destroyed.  Our working directs all Earth-bound demons among the returning spirits to this sorority house, and forces them into the prepared vessels-"

"Not vessels!  They're people!  We invited them, and they came.  We are hosts!  The rules of hospitality..." Bethany's protest faltered, and Sabrina understood she wasn't arguing, but rather working through her guilt.  Still, Sabrina admitted, her comment on hospitality had merit.  After tonight, the sisters were surely damned.

"Enough," said robe-wearing Hecate.  "We mourn later.  For now, danger remains.  Let us collect the vessels.  Settle your stomachs before the demons arrive."

The Ravenwatch Coven descended from the attic, and coaxed tiny, two-inch-tall sorority sisters and their guests from hiding.  Half-truths helped - "I was upstairs, whatever did this didn't reach me" - while force accomplished the rest.

An hour later, bunnygirl Ashlyn and aarakocra cosplayer Raevin stood around tiny-filled bowls and a plastic kiddiepool atop a dining room table cluttered with Halloween decorations.

Vessels were taken from the collection bowls, marked on the guest list, then stripped and added to the kiddiepool.  When the bowls were empty, only two names were unmarked.

"Are we missing any?" Bethany asked.

“Chad Smith, aaaand... Ah, Kelly Richards," Raevin answered.  "Figures the quarterback and cheer-captain are missing.  Has anyone double-checked the bedrooms?"

"Evelynn," Ashlyn said, "though I doubt they’re together. Chad cheated on Kelly's BFF, so she turned him down.  Repeatedly."

“But Evelynn was crushing on Kelly, despite being treated like shit," Raevin argued.  "Watch the vessels, I'll check on Evelynn."

In the farthest bedroom, atop a rumpled, pink fuck-blanket, lay Evelynn.  Tits out and demoness costume stripped below the waist, her hands massaged her chest while two-inch-tall Chad humped her puffy, glistening vulva.  Though tiny, Raevin admired Chad's stamina as he pounded Evelynn's massive pussy.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Raevin asked, amused.  "Is he even doing anything for you?"

"It's payback," Evelynn said.  Chad redoubled his thrusting.  "But yeah, he is, thanks to my gorgeous new fucktoy."

Framed in the supple embrace of Evelynn's clenching vulva, Raevin spotted a tiny, toned ass.  Cheer-captain Kelly was bent in half and shoved into Evelynn’s hungry, jealous cunt.

Raevin watched with morbid curiosity as Chad pounded the tiny red ass.  It almost disappeared into Evelynn with every thrust, but never completely.  After every thrust Evelynn clenched her Kegels to reset the cheerleader for Chad's next hammer blow.

"Look," Raevin began, stepping away.  "I get you're busy with, uh, this, but finish up.  Demons will be here in thirty, and I'd feel better if all vessels were in the weakening spell by then."

Evelynn saluted, slipped her fingers under Chad, and firmly pushed Kelly deep inside herself.  “Get inside me you beautiful, hateful bitch,” she moaned, then groaned louder when Chad was forced to follow.

Loud, staccato cries of pleasure followed Raevin as she left, and Evelynn's orgasmic wails echoed to the common room.

Fifteen minutes later the sisters were dressed and assembled around a pool of naked college students.  Every tiny cried, complained, or was too overwhelmed to move.  Two pungent vessels seemed worse off than the others.

"How much time remains?" Bellatrix asked.

"It's two ‘til eleven, so fifteen minutes," Bethany said in a hollow, but even voice, despite the tears upon her face.  Her fingers were in the pool, caressing her boyfriend's naked back.  Despite a passionate yet vague warning to stay home, he had shown up to surprise her.  Sabrina smiled at the sight.

"I'll make one last check of the seals," Sabrina announced, and adjuster her pilgrim’s dress.  "This is too important.  We've sacrificed enough; I want no mistakes.  None shall escape this trap."

Her sisters nodded, eyes roaming the vessels.  Not all would be irreversibly possessed by demons, but demons were masters of deception.  Extraneous vessels would be indistinguishable from cunning demons.  All must be consumed to foil the demonic invasion.

In the ritual room, Sabrina lifted an hourglass.  It had lain with sand deliberately split between the chambers.  Sabrina raised it and her eyes shone deep red, the glow mirrored within the hourglass.  She set it upright and top-heavy, centered on the septigram.  The glowing sand fell, and thin, oppressive red rings surrounded each of the seven yellow sigils glowing upon the table.  With every grain, the red bands spread imperceptibly closer to the sigils’ centers.

"Plenty of time," Sabrina purred.  She left, but paused to lock the attic door.  She reset the combination with a dark chuckle, then turned each dial four clicks, now reading 0-0-0.

Downstairs, all the sisters had their hands among the vessels.  Ashlyn, like Bethany, comforted a weeping tiny; Sabrina recognized her chemistry TA.  Belletrix and Hecate demonstrated their magic for doomed friends, shooting sparks or levitating tinies.  It conjured excitement and mystery to ease their final hour.

Raevin and Evelynn, however, tormented jocks and cheerleaders, pairing off men and women who hated each other and forcing them to fuck in front of everyone.

Raevin had two thick-thighed bases laying with legs spread atop a petite pair of kneeling fliers, their arms shaking.  A linebacker and a tight end each claimed an exposed cheerleader, and by Raevin's direction railed them with abandon.  Raevin even alternated finger taps on the jocks' asses to speed them up and add some oomph to their efforts.

Evelynn encircled jocks around kneeling cheerleaders, and perky tits and slobbering tongues workedg the jocks to the edge of orgasm.  Ready to blow, they finished in Kelly’s cum-covered mouth as she rode Chad like a racehorse.  Eager cocks speared her lips, and tortured groans released their loads.  Choking the cheerleader did not interrupt her wild riding, and Sabrina detected a motive spell at play.

Sabrina was pleased with events thus far.  She found perverse delight in this debaucherous prelude to carnage.

Chad bellowed his release as the sorority house lights flickered and dimmed.  The Coven jerked their hands from the pool, though Sabrina noticed Bethany's hand was not empty.  Its contents went directly into her costume's belt pouch.

As the lights dimmed further, a bright, yellow pattern illuminated the floor of the pool, prompting vessels to scream and cry.  Above the commotion of the living arose a keening wail, swelling to a cacophony of forlorn cries and sepulchral caterwauling no living soul could vocalize.  Shadows, indistinct and ephemeral, arose from the pool.  They were joined by figments of icy blue and bone white.  The pale specters circled the room before passing through the walls.  Oleaginous smears of ectoplasm marked their passing. 

Though most ghosts departed, the frosty phantoms drifted towards the sisters.  One extended a wispy claw, but golden aura radiated from Raevin, and the figure screeched and fled, shattering the window.

The dark figures sank into the shadows, the room’s dark corners roiling with malevolent despair.  Ashlyn cursed, then chanted an abjuration.  The darkness quickly settled, though the shadows were deeper than before.

Then came sounds of roaring flame, clacking chitin, and malicious laughter.  An evil red aura filled the pool, and terrified cries of the vessels merged with tortured shrieks.  The aura was constrained to seven inches above the pool, and it rapidly concentrated around the tiny guests.  Then the golden pattern on the pool bottom shone, piercing the red aura.  The deluge of rising spirits slowed to a trickle, then ceased.  The red aura faded, and the vessels grew quiet.

"Is it over?" Bellatrix asked, wand pointing at the closest remaining spirits.

"Not quite," Sabrina said, her eager gaze upon the human sacrifices.

There was a crackling sound, then the screaming in the pool resumed.  Many vessels began transforming, assuming twisted, demonic forms.  Some turned red growing horns and a tail, others were encased in black carapace.  Some shrank to a half-inch tall, now skeletally thin with leathery wings.

The sorority’s advisor swelled into a towering six-inch monstrosity, and immediately grabbed the nearest vessels.  One hand shoved a woman up her blubbery, drooling cunt, and another fed a cute nerd to her ass.  A third grabbed a smaller demon and pressed it to her bulbous breast, where the oozing nipple swallowed its prey.  The fourth arm shoved a cheerleader down her throat.

Similar monsters wreaked havoc among the humans, though Sabrina saw one 'terrified' vessel pull another into a kiss, slurping his soul before running away.  The witches had no reliable method to tell which were demons and which were victims, and so, as Sabrina pre-ordained, all tinies must be destroyed.  The fact she could detect demonic possession was a secret tightly kept.

Bethany, horrified by the carnage, slammed her fist into the pool.

"Enough!" she shouted, her hand splattering a goat-legged demon.  Everyone froze, the demons just noticing their predicament as toy-sized prisoners of the coven.  A cloud of red mist seeped from the crushed demon and engulfed a nearby man.  He screamed in anguish as his muscles gained definition, his skin reddened, horns sprouted, and his fuzzy legs grew cloven hooves.

"Thank you, Bethany," Sabrina said.  She loomed over the pool.  "Welcome, hellspawn, into my coven's trap.  Our magic  gathered your demonic essence into these suppressed vessels, limiting your power to the physical abilities of your puny scale, and ending your invasion of Earth before it began."  Sabrina cast her senses over the crowd, turning her attention to a couple devoid of demonic energies.  "To the humans caught in our trap, you have my apologies.  We knew not which demons arrived tonight, and my sisters cannot confirm who’s possessed, and who’s collateral.  I'm sorry, but you will perish with the demons.  It's the only way to be sure."

Screaming resumed, alongside inhuman roars and demonic cursing.  Sabrina nodded to her sisters, and picked up a demonic slime-girl that was once her lab partner.  Sabrina slurped her up without hesitation, savoring the gelatinous texture, if not the sulfurous aftertaste.  When she swallowed, her sisters joined the feast.

Their expressions were mixed, some delighted, some horrified, and Evelynn creamed herself tonguing the pussy of the succubus that possessed cheer-captain Kelly.

"Remember to consume the whole body, and not to break them," Sabrina said, looking pointedly at Belletrix.  The demoness she just choked down had the lower body of a spider, and a chitinous leg was still caught in her teeth.

Sabrina paced herself, reluctant to eat most demons herself.  She focused on humans, or lustful incubi and succubi.  A lamia embodying envy and lust molested a human woman, and Sabrina grabbed the demon by its six-inch tail.  She lifted the demon with its voluptuous feminine torso and unwilling passenger wrapped in her six, toned arms.   The demon startled when Sabrina’s sexy mouth opened below it, and dropped the woman on Sabrina's tongue.

Sabrina appreciated the woman’s taste, her tongue’s caresses detecting fear and involuntary arousal.  She swallowed, and the demon's feminine torso followed.  Sabrina savored this one.  She let her sisters consume more of the demons and, unwittingly, the humans.  Only when Ashlyn looked questioningly at her did Sabrina swallow, slurping the tail like spaghetti.

Sabrina next grabbed a women's hockey player devoid of demonic energy.  Sabrina surreptitiously dropped her to the floor, where the tiny struggled to breathe.  Sabrina’s leg blurred, and her blood-red foot descended upon the tiny's back.  Crimson toes curled over the winded woman's shoulders, wicked nails rending furrows in the floor.  A contemptuous sneer parted Sabrina's lips, and her weight shifted.  The tiny flattened with a satisfying crunch, now an imperceptible stain on Sabrina's sole.

These scenes continued, witches consuming demons and humans alike. Sabrina focused on lust-filled demons, or slipped humans inside her with her hidden tail.  She even stole Bethany's belt pouch while the crying girl choked down her still-human roommate.

Some sisters relished their grim task, while others fought their gorge to do their duty, but in thirty minutes the pool was empty.

As Evelynn choked down the six-inch monstrosity they’d 'overlooked' until the end, Hecate belched and nodded approvingly.

"Our task is complete.  May their souls find rest in the world beyond."

"Not quite," Sabrina said, and her tone drew six wary, weary looks.  "Bethany seems to have forgotten one."  Sabrina opened the belt pouch, and Bethany paled as her boyfriend was lifted from the pouch.

"Bethany," Hecate said coldly, tone damning.  "Your naivety has endangered not just the sisterhood, but the entire world.  We cannot risk a demon roaming free."

"I agree," said Sabrina, with a coy smirk.  "This vessel must be disposed of.  Sisters, should Bethany prove her conviction with an act of contrition?"  There were approving nods and murmurs all around.  "We agree.  Sister, open wide.  You have one last service to perform for your coven."

Sabrina suppressed a grin when only Raevin noticed the finality of that phrasing.  She didn't have to suppress it long, as her own scheming interfered with her fun.

Up in the ritual room, the final grains of sand fell, and the sigils turned completely red.

Down in the dining room, the sisters screamed as their magical defenses failed to react to their own castings, corrupted though they were by the demon already among them.  The women dwindled away, and Sabrina wasted no time collecting them in the pool.  Their sizes now ranged from a three-inch-tall Bethany to a thirteen-inch-tall Raevin.

"Sabrina!  What happened?  What are you doing?" asked Hecate, but she was ignored.

"Oh, Bethany dear, did the demonic forms repulse you, or did you have a taste for your fellow humans?" Sabrina taunted.  "I regret I wasn't fast enough to feed you your human lover,  but you ate so many innocents I’m dripping with excitement.  And you, Raevin.  I can tell you enjoyed the grotesqueries of the demon-possessed.  You consumed more demonic energy than your sisters combined.  I'm so proud of you."  Sabrina used a finger to give Raevin headpats, then ran a wicked black nail gently down her front and between her naked breasts, leaving a hair-thin trail of blood in its wake.  All eyes were on the finger when it transformed from the manicured nail of a sorority sister, and now the trapped witches followed the crimson digit along the arm and up to Sabrina's true form.

Blood-red skin was on full display, as were voluptuous curves and glowing red eyes with heart-shaped pupils.  Wicked horns curved over voluminous black hair, and a spaded tail swished behind her.  Sabrina loomed over her betrayed coven like a demonic goddess.  Elegant fingers trailed wicked nails over massive, perky breasts, submerging Bethany's boyfriend in the cleavage before tweaking hot-pink nipples.  Those gorgeous hands caressed a washboard stomach, then converged on a bare, tattooed pubis.  Sabrina bent at the waist, hovering her bodacious breasts over the edge of the pool, as a pair of tiny feet protruded from the forbidden valley.

"Oh?  Everyone's staring.  Is there something on my face?" Sabrina joked.  She gave herself a long, mocking once-over.  "Ah, yes, I forgot to mention.  That demon invasion in the late seventeenth century?  It might have been more successful than anyone realized.  Perhaps that demon survived the witch hunt, and eventually consumed enough souls to manifest without a vessel.  Perhaps she proceeded to invite the next demonic invasion, only to realize that feeding demonic energy to humans would concentrate and de-aspect that power, priming it for absorption."

"W-what are you saying?" Hecate asked.

Sabrina ignored Hecate and grabbed tiny Bethany.  She licked the naked witch, paying attention to her erogenous zones, and arousing her with a skilled and experienced forked tongue.  She brought little Bethany to the brink, but before she reached orgasm, she retrieved Bethany's boyfriend from her cleavage, setting him beside his clam-jammed lover.  

“Terrence, do you love Bethany?”

He gulped, and nodded vigorously.  “I do.”

Sabrina leaned closer, eyes glowing.

“And me?”

“I worship you,” he said without hesitation.  “I'd give everything for you!”

Sabrina raised an eyebrow.  “Including your lover?”

“Gladly, Mistress!”

Sabrina nodded.  “Then fuck her good and feed her to me.”

Sabrina held her hand against her chin, and Terrence bent Bethany over Sabrina's lip.  The coven watched their sister’s tiny boyfriend fuck her raw in the mouth of a horny demoness.  When Bethany came, they watched her squirming outline descend behind those perfect breasts.  Terrence’s smaller outline followed blissfully moments later.

A burst of lust-attuned demonic energy flooded Sabrina, and she grew to nine feet tall as she fought to maintain a reduced size.  The  energy from the smallest witch increased her maximum height from twelve to forty feet tall.  She reigned in her expanded lust-aura, lest it provoke a campus-wide orgy unseen since her progenitor burned Rome.

The towering Sabrina burped, giggled, and finally answered Hecate.

"You are now my playthings, until I digest you one-by-one.  Know that whomever pleases me least will feed me next.  You’re no longer human, you're demonic energy bars fueling my conquest of Earth.  Now, deep breath, Raevin," she said, grabbing the girl while spreading her glistening labia.  "Enjoy the plushest seats to watch this demon’s rise."