Chapter 14: The Witches’ Initiation and the Southern Flame

Reinhard lounged upon a makeshift throne of furs in the shadowed heart of Ixchel’Kin’s upper ritual chamber, the arterial red glow of the torches on the wall pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Two Aryanized Shemari sluts, former noble daughters of Zahav’Adom whose olive skin had been bleached to porcelain perfection, their dark curls turned platinum blonde, and once-proud brown eyes now ice-blue with fanatic devotion, knelt between his spread thighs. Their massive, milk-heavy breasts swayed as they took turns worshipping his fourteen-inch, rune-veined cock, lips stretched obscenely around the barbed shaft that still bore faint crimson streaks from Miriam’s unwilling womb.

The taller one, once called Shoshana bat-Yosef but now simply Sturmfrau Shoshana, bobbed deep, throat convulsing as she forced herself down until her nose ground against the swastika-branded root. Black cum from his last release still glazed her chin; she moaned around the meat, eyes rolling back in gratitude. When she finally pulled off with a wet pop, strings of saliva and seed stretching from her swollen lips, the shorter one—formerly Talia bat-Yosef, now Sturmfrau Talia—immediately took her place, smaller mouth struggling to accommodate the girth yet swallowing with desperate hunger. They traded places every few breaths, licking the underside in tandem whenever the shaft slipped free, tongues swirling over the living runes that spelled SIEG REICH in crawling black letters.

Across the chamber, Mei’lin’zhu paced before the first cadre of der Schwarze-Runen Hexenzirkel, a cadre of twelve hand-picked Todesengel who had distinguished themselves in the slaughter of Zahav’Adom with particular creativity. Their midnight-black uniforms gleamed wetly under torchlight, corsets cinched to impossibly thin waists, half-cupped breasts presented like trophies, nipple rings linked by fine chains to clitoral hood piercings that tugged with every predatory step. Each cradled a newly-crafted Runenpeitsche: a whip made of six feet of braided sinew flayed from still-living Shemari males, the strands still faintly warm and glistening with residual blood.

Mei’lin’zhu’s voice was velvet over razors as she instructed her pupils. “These whips are infants now. Feed them pain, feed them death, and they will grow to ten feet, twenty, thirty, until they scream in the voices of every soul they have tasted. They will become extensions of your cunts, your hatred, and your lust.”

She snapped her fingers. The witches paired off instantly, boots ringing on stone as they formed a loose circle. Mei’lin selected two to demonstrate: Hildegard von Rabenschrei, a towering, raven-haired beauty with breasts so massive the chains from her nipple rings strained, and a younger initiate, Greta, blonde and vicious, whose gray eyes burned with fresh fanaticism.

“Begin,” Mei’lin commanded.

Hildegard struck first. The newborn Runenpeitsche hissed through the air and cracked across Greta’s presented breasts with a sound like splitting leather. The impact snapped the chain between nipple rings; blood welled instantly in a perfect crimson Hakenkreuz across the pale flesh. Greta’s back arched, a strangled scream tearing from her throat, yet her thighs parted wider, cunt visibly clenching.

“Feel it,” Mei’lin purred, circling them. “Do not fight the pain. Drink it. Let it flood your womb like black seed.”

Next it was Greta’s turn. She spun the whip with surprising grace for a new weapon and lashed upward between Hildegard’s legs. The braided sinew caught the taller witch squarely on her exposed cunt, tips curling cruelly around swollen labia. Hildegard’s knees buckled; a guttural moan escaped as blood spattered the marble. Yet her hips rolled forward, chasing the sting, clit throbbing visibly.

Reinhard groaned low in his chest. Sturmfrau Shoshana had his cock buried to the root again, throat fluttering as she swallowed around the barbs. Sturmfrau Talia lapped greedily at his heavy balls, tongue tracing the swollen veins, sucking each orange-sized orb into her mouth in turn. He tangled fingers in their platinum hair and forced Shoshana down harder, feeling her gag beautifully.

In the circle, the pace quickened. Whips sang continuously now—crack, hiss, crack—targeting tits, cunts, inner thighs, the tender undersides of breasts. Blood painted the floor in elegant spirals. Each witch’s face contorted between agony and rapture; screams melted into moans, hips grinding air as pain transmuted into raw sexual need.

Mei’lin guided Greta through another vicious stroke. “Harder. Make her cunt weep for the Reich.” Greta obliged, whip snapping directly across Hildegard’s pierced clit. The taller witch howled, legs trembling, yet her free hand flew between her own thighs, fingers plunging into her bleeding cunt with frantic need. Blood and arousal slicked her wrist to the elbow.

Hildegard retaliated instantly, lashing Greta’s tits so savagely the younger woman was driven to her knees. The whip wrapped fully around one massive breast, sinew biting deep; when Hildegard yanked, flesh bulged between the strands in angry red weals. Greta’s scream pitched into a sob of pure ecstasy; her cunt squirted clear fluid onto the stone as the pain crested into orgasm.

The other pairs followed in turn, whips rising and falling in brutal rhythm. One witch forced her partner’s legs apart and flogged the spread cunt until labia swelled purple and blood ran in rivulets down trembling thighs. Another targeted nipples exclusively, alternating breasts until both were shredded, the victim cumming so hard she collapsed only to be dragged upright for more.

Reinhard’s breath grew ragged. Sturmfrau Talia now had the head in her mouth, sucking greedily while Shoshana licked the shaft from balls to crown in long, worshipful strokes. Their tongues met repeatedly around his girth, kissing sloppily over the meat, sharing the taste of his pre-cum and the faint copper of old blood.

Mei’lin raised her voice over the symphony of cracks and moans. “Now together, bring your sister to the edge. Feel her agony become your pleasure.”

Hildegard and Greta, who had come back around in the rotation, dropped their whips simultaneously and lunged at each other. Blood-slick bodies collided; mouths met in a savage kiss, teeth drawing more crimson as hands clawed between legs. Fingers speared bleeding cunts in brutal rhythm, thumbs grinding pierced clits. They fucked each other standing, legs shaking, foreheads pressed together as they sobbed and snarled and came.

Black-red runes flared to life in the air around them, their strokes swirling like smoke, feeding on the mingled pain and ecstasy. The other pairs mirrored them, whips discarded, bodies grinding, mouths on bleeding tits, fingers buried knuckle-deep in whipped cunts. The chamber filled with the wet sounds of frantic masturbation and the rising crescendo of orgasms.

Reinhard’s balls drew tight. He gripped the two Shemari sluts by the hair and forced both mouths onto each side of his cock at once, stretching their lips grotesquely around the barbed head. They moaned in unison, tongues wrestling beneath the shaft as he thrust shallowly between their joined mouths.

The witches peaked together, twelve voices crying out in fascist rapture as blood-magic detonated in a silent crimson flash. Runenpeitschen on the floor writhed like living serpents, drinking the spilled essence, lengthening visibly by inches.

Reinhard roared. Black seed erupted in thick ropes, flooding the Shemari sluts’ joined mouths until it overflowed, running in glossy streams down their chins onto their heaving tits. They swallowed frantically, eyes glazed with devotion, never breaking the seal of their lips around his pulsing cock.

Mei’lin’zhu turned to the throne, blood-spattered and smiling, and bowed low.

“The first lesson is complete, mein Führer.”

Reinhard lifted one lazy hand, fingers glistening with the mixed saliva of the two Aryanized Shemari sluts still kneeling between his thighs. He flicked his wrist in a curt gesture toward Mei’lin’zhu.

Mei’lin inclined her head, obsidian eyes gleaming. “The second lesson begins.”

At her sharp clap, four Tlalli guards in scaled obsidian harnesses dragged in seven bound Shemari priestesses. The women stumbled on bare feet, wrists lashed behind their backs with barbed vita-sap cords that already drew thin lines of blood down olive skin. Over their heads they still wore the traditional silver marriage veils, gossamer thin and embroidered with delicate Stars of El-Yahud, symbols of lifelong purity sworn to their invisible god. The veils clung to tear-streaked faces and heaving breasts, doing nothing to hide the terror in their dark eyes or the way their bodies trembled.

Reinhard’s cock twitched at the sight, barbs flaring briefly beneath the wet mouths of Sturmfrau Shoshana and Sturmfrau Talia. He gave a low, satisfied growl.

Mei’lin dismissed the Shemari sluts with a flick of her fingers. “Enough. You have warmed the Führer well. Withdraw.” The two Aryanized whores crawled backward on all fours, chins dripping black seed, eyes glazed with worship, until Tlalli guards hauled them away by their platinum hair. Reinhard raised an eyebrow at the witch-doctor’s presumption, but assumed she had something interesting in mind. And Mei’lin wasn’t the jealous type; she loved his cock as much as any of his bitches did, but she got off just as much on her twisted, depraved plans for his Reich, including this training session.

The golden-skinned eastern beauty turned to the twelve acolytes of Der Schwarze-Runen Hexenzirkel. “You will now practice the arts of Blutlustzauber—blood-lust magic—directly upon the Führer’s sacred shaft. Two at a time. Five minutes each pair. Your task is threefold: keep him iron-hard, swell his balls to bursting, and channel every spark of pain from his barbs into greater potency. The best among you will be rewarded. The worst will taste my Runenpeitsche,” she said, lazily coiling the thirty-foot-long whip for emphasis.

The witches’ eyes burned with hunger and fear. They dropped their new Runenpeitschen in a neat row and stepped forward in pairs, jackboots ringing like gunshots. The first pair, Hildegard and the blonde initiate Greta, knelt immediately. Hildegard’s massive breasts swayed as she took the head between blood-red lips, sucking with slow, deliberate pulls while Greta lapped the underside from balls to crown, tongue tracing the living runes. Black veins pulsed brighter under their attention.

As they worked, they began to chant in low, guttural Reichdeutsch, voices blending in perfect unison:

“Schwarzes Blut, stählernes Fleisch ... Barben reisen, Lust entfesselt ... Sieg durch Samen, Reich durch Schmerz!” Black blood, steel flesh. Barbs tear, lust unleashed. Victory through seed, Reich through pain!

Reinhard felt the magic take hold at once. A hot throb surged through his cock; the barbs extended slightly, pricking Hildegard’s inner cheeks. She moaned around the shaft, eyes rolling white, and sucked harder, using the sting to fuel her spell. Greta’s tongue swirled faster, drawing runes in saliva that glowed crimson before sinking into the skin.

Mei’lin circled them, voice approving. “Excellent, Hildegard. Feel how the pain sharpens your focus? Every barb that draws your blood is power returned tenfold to the Führer. Greta, deeper! Take his balls fully into your mouth and hum the Herrschaftsrunen. Yes, like that. Watch how his ballsack swells already.”

The next pair, two raven-haired sisters, Ingrid and Isolde, knelt as Hildegarde and Greta withdrew reluctantly, lips swollen and bleeding lightly. Ingrid took the cock straight down her throat in one brutal motion, gagging deliberately to rake the barbs along her esophagus. Isolde pressed her face beneath, licking the stretched skin of the root while tracing fertility sigils on the heavy balls with a blood-slick fingertip.

Their chant rose, fierce and rhythmic:

“Ewig hart, ewig rein ... Schwarzer Samen fliest wie Wein ... Führer fickt die Welt entzwei!” Eternally hard, eternally pure. Black seed flows like wine. The Führer fucks the world in two!

Reinhard groaned, hips rolling forward. The sisters’ spellwork was exquisite; his shaft felt encased in molten iron, every vein standing proud and glowing. The barbs flared wider, drawing thin lines of crimson from Ingrid’s throat each time she pulled back. She swallowed the blood and used it, eyes blazing, to intensify the arousal hex.

Mei’lin nodded. “Strong. Ingrid, you ride the pain beautifully. See how the Führer’s cock answers? Isolde, match your sister’s depth. Good. This is the standard. All of you, watch and learn.”

A third pair, brunette Karla and red-haired Freya, took their place next. Karla began with long, worshipful licks from base to tip, while Freya sucked greedily on the swollen head, cheeks hollowing. Their magic was competent but lacked the savage edge of the first two pairs. The glow around Reinhard’s cock dimmed slightly; the barbs retracted a fraction.

Mei’lin’s voice cracked like a whip. “Pathetic. Karla, you treat the Führer’s shaft like a lover’s toy. This is a weapon of conquest, bitch. Bite the barbs, draw your own blood, and feed the spell. Freya, stop fluttering your tongue like a timid maid. Ram your throat down until you choke, then use the choke to tighten the stamina hex. You disappoint me. Again, harder, or I will have Hildegard flog your cunts until you remember what pain is for.”

The two witches redoubled their efforts, faces flushing with shame and arousal. Karla sank her teeth lightly into the underside, letting barbs pierce her lower lip; blood welled and she moaned, channeling it into a fresh surge of heat that made Reinhard’s cock leap. Freya forced herself down until her nose ground against his pelvis, throat spasming in agony around the girth. The glow returned, brighter than before.

Mei’lin gave a curt nod. “Better. Barely.”

Pair after pair rotated through the five-minute intervals. The chamber filled with wet sucking sounds, gagging moans, and the rising cadence of Reichdeutsch chants:

“Blut für den Führer, Lust für den Führer ... Todesrunen in der Tiefe glühen ... Samen schiest, die Welt ertränkt!” Blood for the Führer, lust for the Führer. Death-runes glow in the depths. Seed shoots, the world drowns.