Chapter 1: The Dancing Instructor

Tuesday, September 17th, 2013 – Whitney Spietz – Paris, Texas

I stretched my back, working the kinks out as I carried the mop bucket back to the supply closet. It was the last bit of cleaning I had to do for my dance studio before I could go home for the night. My muscles were sore, and I was looking forward to a nice soak in my tub, with some scented candles and a glass of red wine.

I grabbed my purse, slinging it over my shoulder, and walked carefully around the edge, not wanting to tread on the damp floor and ruin all my hard work—the studio was my pride and joy. It had taken years, and a lot of my parent's money, but Beauty in Motion was finally making a profit.

As I was locking the front door, Darleen Cummins, one of my dance students, walked out of the alley, an odd, hungry look in her eyes. And were they silver? What was—

"Oh, Lord, what happened!" I gasped.

Her leotard had been ripped and her breasts were exposed. I clapped my hands over my mouth; something white ran down her leg. The poor thing had been raped behind my studio while I was inside cleaning. Oh, Lord, what was happening in this town.

I threw my arms around her. "I'm so sorry. But we'll get the bastard."

"Such a familiar manner," purred Darleen. "Do you know my host?"

Lord, she's had some sort of mental breakdown. "I'm your dance teacher, Whitney," I told her. "Come inside and we'll get you some help."

"You have a pretty mouth," Darleen said. There was something wrong with her words. Her accent was gone, and she sounded almost continental, a refined quality Darleen, despite being the Mayor's daughter, had never possessed.

"Come on, sugar. You're in shock. Let's get inside and I'll get you some help."

"Yes. Your mouth is quite perfect," Darleen continued.

People were walking past, staring at my student's disheveled state. "C'mon, sugar. People are watchin' you."

"Have you ever pleasured a Goddess?"

"What are you talkin' 'bout?"

"Fall to your knees and pleasure me."

Her eyes were silver and so deep, like pools of starlight. So bright and deep and ancient, full of beautiful majesty and terrifying power. Something lurked in Darleen's eyes, something so far beyond me as I was from the ant I stepped on. Those eyes commanded me, reaching into my soul and wrenching me to her desire.

I trembled and fell to my knees. Beneath her tutu I could see the torn crotch of her leotard and her sex, surrounded by platinum-blonde pubes, was matted with cum. I couldn't seem to help myself, not after looking into those silver pools. I leaned in; a spicy musk filled my nose. My tongue licked out, salty cum and and spicy pussy coated my tongue.

"Yes," Darleen purred. "Pleasure me."

The passing pedestrians gasped with disgust and surprise as I pleasured my dance student on the sidewalk. I was going to be arrested for committing such a lewd act on a sidewalk—not counting the fact she was underage—but I couldn't stop. I stuck my tongue deeper into her, gathering a mouthful of the mix of fluids.

"Dykes!" a woman snorted.

"Ain't that the mayor's daughter?" a scandalized gal asked. "She must be on that ecstasy."

"Ooh, this is gonna be a talked 'bout for years."

"Revel in my beauty," Darleen cooed. "You are in a Goddess's presence. On your knees in worship!"

I didn't know if they obeyed her, my face was buried into her wonderful pussy. The more I licked, the more I came to love the taste and the feel of her. She was warm and wet and soft, silk on my lips. I drank her nectar, savoring it. Darleen stared down at me, her eyes almost glowing in the darkness, her platinum-blonde hair almost seemed like a halo around her head.

"Such pleasure you are gifting me," purred the transformed girl. "That's it." She shuddered and smiled "Worship me. Show me how much you love your Goddess."

Her hips moved, and a low groan issued like a song from her lips. I worked my tongue deeper into her pussy, sensing her impending climax, and eager to deliver it to her. Her fingers wrapped through my hair, and she ground her pussy harder and harder into my face. Her moans grew louder, sweeter. I found her clit, nursing at her nub, eager to give her all the pleasure I could.

She came, juices flooding my mouth, and then she moaned in a strange, rhythmic chant:

"Your life shall number thirteen,
To the north will your blood be spilled
Full of anger, full of grief
Wormwood will slay your love
Lilith's daughter will slay your life."

Darleen looked down at me, face full of pleasure, staring into my eyes. "Enjoy your time with him," she whispered, stroking my face.

With whom?

"Such a pretty mouth," she purred. "This body has needs, and you seem perfect to accept them."

Her hand tightened on my hair, pressing me into her pussy. What needs was—

Chapter 2 »