Tara was amazed nobody else had seen this coming. 

Sure, she was the coven’s resident psychic, but you didn’t need precognition to know that having two supernatural predators under one roof was a recipe for disaster. And yet her fellow witches—normally brilliant women—had all completely failed to realize this. 

To be fair, it hadn’t been a problem at first. When Elise had first met her vampiress girlfriend Catherine, the pair of them had spent most of their time away from home. And when Maggie and Rhea had first summoned and tamed Nyx, a feral succubus, they’d kept her tucked away in the cellar. But as the other witches had grown more comfortable with their respective huntresses, they’d given them both free reign throughout the coven’s little brownstone. 

The problems began not long after. Once the two were around one another consistently, the normally well-behaved vampiress and succubus became embroiled in a power struggle. Both started acting territorial, staking claims over particular rooms of the house and becoming more possessive of their respective partners. Tension was constantly in the air, and the smallest of things could cause the two of them to be at each other’s throats until one of the witches intervened. Tara, being the only one who saw their situation couldn’t end well, had voiced her concerns to the rest of the coven.

“We’ll sort it out,” the others assured her. “This isn’t your responsibility. If anything comes up between our girls, we’ll handle it.”

Tara had grumbled but acquiesced, deciding to remain a completely neutral party in whatever was to come. Everyone else could sort it out; they were right when they said this wasn’t her responsibility. The most dangerous lover she’d ever brought home was a human tax accountant who sometimes had an extra cup of coffee in the afternoon. 

So she stayed far away from any and all supernatural squabbles for a few more weeks, right up until the evening she realized the problem wasn’t going away. 

It started out pleasantly enough: Tara was sitting quietly in the corner of their cramped living room, the taller, olive-skinned brunette doing a jigsaw puzzle and sipping herbal tea. Beside her, Nyx’s lithe, gray body was sprawled across the sofa. The demon dozed softly, her little underdeveloped wings occasionally twitching in time with her breath. Everything was peaceful.

And then it wasn’t.

“Hey, have you seen my shirt?” Catherine strode into the room, the pale and pouty blonde vampiress crossing her arms and leaning against one of the packed bookshelves. She wore only a black bra, skinny jeans, and chunky boots. “Bright yellow. Hard to miss.”

Tara shook her head. Nyx opened a single eye to glare at the new arrival. 

“No, dead flesh. Go away.”

Catherine sneered, but didn’t make an aggressive move besides rolling her eyes. “Whatever. Let me know if you see it.” She turned to walk out, and Tara let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. 

Before exiting, though, something caught Catherine’s eye. The vampiress did a double take and narrowed her eyes on Nyx. “You’re fuckin on top of it, demon.”

Tara spared a brief glance and sure enough, there was a bit of yellow cloth poking out from under Nyx. 

“Move your flat ass,” Catherine stated as she marched toward the couch. Nyx went from reclined to a low crouch near-instantly, looking for all the world like she was about to pounce.

Tara sighed, sipped her tea (lemongrass; pretty good) and kept on searching for the last corner piece. 

“Dead people do not need clothes.” Nyx’s hand rested on the shirt in question, her claws threatening to shred it. 

“Yeah, well, neither do sex demons. Though you could probably fit those sad little wings in it.” Catherine took another step forward, maintaining her constant aura of cool even as she leaned forward in anticipation of a fight. 

A low growl came out of Nyx, and her tail started thumping against the couch cushions as it thrashed back and forth. Both of the huntresses had found out incredibly quickly how to really piss each other off: for Catherine it was talking about the fact that she was dead, while for Nyx it was mentioning her stumpy little wings or poorly-endowed body. Tara would be impressed with their ability to figure each other out if they weren’t using it for such stupid ends. She thought they were about to go at it, but, to her credit, Nyx merely scoffed and threw Catherine’s shirt on the floor. 

“Take it. I do not want it.” The succubus held her head high. 

And after maintaining her glare for another moment, Catherine bent over and picked up the shirt. The situation seemed resolved; Nyx was looking away, and Catherine slipped on her (apparently Devo) tee. Crisis averted. 

Except for the battle to see who got the last word, obviously.

“Ugh. Smells like demon,” Catherine grumbled, sniffing her shirt.

“Better than smelling like corpse.” 

Catherine’s eye twitched and her fists clenched. “I am not a corpse.” 

“I sense passion, feed on it. You give off none. Like a dead body.” 

Tara looked away for a moment to finish the border of the puzzle, and when she looked back up both huntresses were once again poised to fight. 

Catherine trembled with hurt anger and hissed, showing off her fangs. “That’s because you’re a shitty little runt of a succubus. Can’t even hunt for yourself; have to be hand fed.”

Nyx shot up onto her feet, where she stood over a foot taller than the vampiress. The muscles of her nude form flexed and rippled. “You know nothing of hunting, parasite.” 

Ideally, this would be the moment one of the witches would separate the two to avoid an actual fight. But nobody came; Elise was out back tending to the garden, Rhea was probably engrossed in some old text, and Maggie tended to fall asleep early. Which left Tara. She briefly considered intervening, but decided against it—the others had promised to deal with this problem, and part of holding them to that promise was setting firm boundaries. And so as the two huntresses switched from words to just growls and hisses, Tara focused on finding all the sky blue pieces of her puzzle. 

In the end, it hardly mattered which one of them lunged first. As soon as she did, the pair of them disappeared into a supernatural flurry of fang and claw, one that rolled around the floor growling and screeching and bumping into things. Nyx got the upper hand early on, getting on top of Catherine and pinning a majority of her limbs to the floor. But the vampiress managed to crane her neck enough to bite the demon’s wrist, and from there the fight devolved back into chaos. 

“Are you fucking KIDDING me?” 

Rhea stormed into the room, the lanky blonde witch surveying the room through her spectacles. She looked even more tired and annoyed than usual. “ENOUGH.”

With a wave of her hand and a few muttered words, Rhea conjured a magic barrier between the two scuffling girls. They hardly registered it for a moment—both were wide-eyed and feral enough that they slammed into the barrier a few more times to try and get at one another—but once they did, they retreated to sulk, glare, and occasionally hiss at one another. Rhea looked over at Tara with a raised eyebrow. Tara shrugged. 

The rest of the coven came in shortly after to split the two huntresses apart and tend to their wounds—both the physical and emotional ones. Tara felt no schadenfreude, no smug sense of ‘I told you so’; she just felt bad seeing everybody so upset. Once the commotion had died down and things grew calm, Tara was invited into the kitchen for a coven meeting. She sat down at the round, wobbly kitchen table where Elise and Maggie were ignoring cups of decaf. Rhea stood over by the counter, arms akimbo. 

“We can’t continue on like this, obviously,” Rhea stated bluntly. “This isn’t a tenable living situation.” 

Maggie and Elise both nodded glumly. 

“Does anyone have any ideas?” 

Silence. Tara didn’t need her psychic abilities to pick up on the room’s general sense of frustrated despair. 

“Can…is there a way to put Nyx on a tighter leash? So to speak,” Elise piped up after a while. “I know you wanted to keep her…well, her, but I think this is a good example of why keeping a demon in the house is a problem.”

Maggie considered for a moment, the curvy witch being the coven’s resident expert on supernatural creatures. “Maybe? I doubt she’d agree to any kind of contract or binding—out of pride if nothing else. That’s why I never tried when we first caught her.”

“Frankly, I think the onus needs to be on Catherine.” Rhea flicked her tight blonde ponytail back behind her shoulder. “Nyx isn’t used to this world; what’s Catherine’s excuse? She needs to step up and stop getting goaded so easily.” 

Elise frowned. “It’s not her getting angry, it’s the…the thing inside her. The feral part. I’m worried that with Nyx, the feral part is all of her.”

Maggie and Rhea both loudly voiced objections at the same time. 

“You don’t know her like—”

“—completely false—”

“—proven to be trainable, unlike Catherine, who—”

“—my sweet, docile girl!” 

Elise crossed her arms as if shielding herself from the barrage of words. “Can we be realistic here, please? Nyx is a demon. I know you care about her, but demons fight and cause chaos; it’s just what they do.”

“So do the undead,” Maggie mumbled. 

As soon as the words came out, Tara felt a seismic shift in her coven’s respective moods. It was as if somebody had gone to a switch labeled ‘capable of productive discussion’ and flicked it off; Tara could practically hear the slam as her fellow witches all closed themselves off simultaneously. Elise looked surprised and offended, while Maggie and Rhea seemed determined to double down on their position. Tara looked hopelessly back and forth between the three of them. 

“Oh, okay. I see. So Nyx is your sweet girl, but Catherine—the woman I am in love with—is just a lifeless corpse to you. Is that it?” 

Rhea ran her fingers through her hair in agitation. “Don’t be dramatic. You know what she meant.”

“And there it is; you’re both ganging up on me. Could have seen that coming.” 

Tara cleared her throat to interject, hoping to shut the meeting down before anyone said something they couldn’t take back. “Maybe we should sleep on it. We’re all pretty emotionally raw still, I’d imagine. And besides, it’s late.”

The rest of the coven sighed and agreed one by one. Before they retired to their respective rooms, Tara started a round of hugs and kind words that quickly turned into apologies between the witches for any hurt feelings. 

“I’ll clean up in here,” the psychic added with a soft smile. Once the others were gone, she pondered her options over the dishes and came to two conclusions: First, the other witches were too emotionally invested to handle this problem in a fair and balanced manner. Second, the fact that these spats were causing rifts to form within the coven meant Tara could no longer stand by and do nothing. 

It was time for her to act.

***

The first step of Tara’s plan was also the simplest: She had to make sure Catherine and Nyx could fight uninterrupted. And so she came to the other witches as a concerned friend, offering to stay home and play peacemaker one night while they went out and had some time to themselves. Frazzled as they were by the past few weeks, her housemates not only agreed but were very appreciative. Step one: check.

Step two almost felt unnecessary with how quick the huntresses were to anger, but Tara wanted to make sure sparks would actually fly. A few quiet trips through the house was all it took to give them an excellent reason to fight: Some of Catherine’s hair was retrieved from the shower drain and strewn over the pile of cushions where Nyx slept. Tara almost giggled to herself when she was pulling off the prank, feeling like a modern-day sapphic Iago.

Shortly before the rest of the coven left, Tara began step three: ritual preparations. It was too fancy a term, really; psychic abilities were far less about precise steps and far more about the psychic’s mental and emotional state. Still, for everything to go as planned Tara had to be in a certain mood, so she retreated to her bedroom and began to masturbate. Over the course of half an hour, she brought herself to the brink several times, alternating between directly rubbing her clit and grinding against her favorite pillow until she was more than warmed up. With her dark brown hair tousled and her chest visibly rising and falling beneath the little black dress she’d picked out, Tara forced herself to stop. She got up on shaky legs, pricked her finger on a thumbtack, and allowed a drop of blood to fall into a tiny little jar she’d swiped from Elise. 

And then she went to the living room to sip some herbal tea and do her jigsaw puzzle.

Even in the brief moments she saw Catherine or Nyx passing by, Tara knew her plan was taking effect. They both felt the impact of Tara’s lust—as a succubus, Nyx sensed it in the air around her, while Catherine’s enhanced senses had no doubt caught the scent of the hormones and happy chemicals in the drop of her blood. The signs were subtle: both huntresses had slightly dilated eyes, distracted expressions, a slinking sort of determination in their strides…but Tara had taken care to ensure she did nothing more than get them vaguely turned on. She didn’t want to interrupt the main event, after all. 

Said main event didn’t take long to occur, with the huntress’ newfound arousal nowhere near strong enough to get in the way of their mutual contempt. Catherine was lounging in an armchair listening to music (Bauhaus; Christ, what a stereotype she was) when Nyx stormed into the living room, tail stiff with anger and a clump of blonde hair in her hand. 

“I do not want your sheddings, corpse!” 

Catherine groaned dramatically and pulled off her headphones. “What are you whining about now?”

“This!” Nyx balled up the still-damp hair and whipped it at Catherine. “You marked my territory! My space! Mine!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Catherine stood up, brushing the hair projectile off of her black tank top. “So back the fuck off.”

Nyx’s horns nearly scraped against the ceiling as she tried to make herself look as large and intimidating as possible—a very successful effort, at least by Tara’s standards. “Leave,” the demon snarled. “Get out. Back to your grave, or filth pile. Not here.”

“What, you think you actually belong here? That you’re anything more than a temporary novelty? Don’t make me laugh, demon. You’re pathetic.” 

Almost in sync, Nyx and Catherine both looked to Tara, expecting her to break up the fight. 

Tara shrugged and pretended to go back to her jigsaw puzzle.

The two huntresses once again slammed into each other, howling and shrieking. Nyx’s claws tore through Catherine’s clothing, allowing smooth pale flesh to peek through, while the vampiress clamped her jaws down on the demon’s forearm and held on with all her might. 

In the meantime, Tara closed her eyes and reached out to the pair of them psychically. She’d have to be subtle at first—even though they were both distracted, their minds were inhuman enough that Tara’s presence was easily recognizable as foreign. So she started off with a mental suggestion she was certain they were both already considering:

Feed. Sate your hunger.

Tara opened her eyes and saw her psychic nudge take effect, with Nyx’s eyes glowing orange from emotional energy and Catherine slurping away at the new bite wound she’d made. Within seconds, their struggle became less about actually hurting one another and more about indulging their desires; they still wrestled for dominance, but mostly so they could securely feed on their prey. Control went back and forth, with both huntresses hissing and grappling and biting and slashing, but after a few minutes it became clear that Catherine was simply outmatched. Nyx had too much of a size advantage, and used it to press the vampiress down against the floor until her fighting became little more than wriggling. 

Impressed and a bit more turned on by the sight of the two feral beauties wrestling, Tara closed her eyes again and reached out to both of their minds. Creating or destroying feelings was a dangerous and difficult task for a psychic, but amplifying something already there was far easier—and Tara’s preparations meant both huntresses still had a bit of background lust. She also found they were both a little hot for each other, funnily enough. Probably shouldn’t be surprised. Gently at first, and then more insistently over time, Tara grew and nurtured their arousal and mutual attraction until it equaled their anger. The suggestion she’d given them to feed helped as well, with both huntresses forming a sort of positive feedback loop as they tasted each other’s lust. 

Tara opened her eyes to see the fight transform into something very different yet somehow nearly the same. There was still biting, clawing, and grappling, yes, but to an entirely different end. Catherine nipped and licked Nyx’s neck between kisses, while the demon continued pinning her to the floor so she could grind her sex against the vampiress’ hip. 

Their anger and competitive spirit was still definitely there as well. When Nyx paused and gasped from a particular burst of pleasure, Catherine took the opportunity to get out from under her and tackle the demon to the floor, where the two of them growled at one another and furiously made out while clawing at each other’s backs and gripping each other’s hair. The positive feedback loop also meant that the harder they struggled, the hornier they both became, meaning there was less and less fighting and more and more fucking the longer things went on.

Tara watched with absolute glee as she saw sides of the two huntresses she’d only heard gossip about from the rest of the coven. The hornier Catherine got, the more her oral fixation kicked in—unsurprising for a vampiress, Tara supposed—and she started whining any time her mouth wasn’t filled with or on Nyx in some way. After a while, she pulled away from their kisses and wrapped her lips around one of the demon’s dark nipples, content to suck away. For her part, Nyx became the same cuddly little pet she always did when she was fed, rubbing her face against Catherine’s hair and her pussy against Catherine’s thigh as she squeezed the blonde tight against her body.

When Nyx was about to reach orgasm from her grinding, she put a hand on the back of Catherine’s hand and pressed down, encouraging the vampiress to bite. She complied, piercing the demon’s breast with her fangs and then licking and sucking at the tiny little holes she made. With both of them experiencing the height of pleasure, the feedback loop of feeding off one another kicked into overdrive; the huntresses writhed and squealed in delight as they mutually climaxed, a messy, lovely moment that stretched on into even more intimate kissing and nuzzling. 

While Tara was tempted to touch herself again watching the wonderful scene unfold, she stayed her hand. She still had a job to do. After making sure the two huntresses were well beyond satisfied and firmly cradled in each other’s arms, Tara made her move, using a significantly larger amount of psychic force to quickly seize control of their exhausted minds. They both twitched at the sensation, but offered no resistance. Good. Tara really only needed to implant one minor trigger anyways: 

Remember these feelings. Whenever the two of you fight, you will experience them again.

It was all Tara needed to resolve the problem. No more fraught group meetings, no discussions of forcing them apart or chaining them up—with a simple and elegant solution, Tara had stepped in and solved everything. She beamed with pride as she looked down at her handiwork, the two huntresses somehow curling even tighter around one another. Tara was satisfied.

Or rather, she would be satisfied as soon as she went into her bedroom and came her brains out.

***

Tara was amazed she hadn’t seen this coming. 

Sure, it could be hard predicting the behavior of supernaturals, but you didn’t need precognition to know that if you allowed a predator to fight and fuck at the same time, that’s all they would ever do. And yet Tara—normally a quite capable witch—had completely failed to realize this.

To be fair, it hadn’t been a problem at first. The rest of the coven had been relieved and excited (if somewhat surprised) by Catherine and Nyx’s reconciliation, and any lingering tension between the witches dissipated not long after. For their part, the huntresses seemed surprised and a little embarrassed the first few times their scuffles turned into passionate, primal sex. 

Once they got used to the idea, though, the vampiress and succubus became embroiled in a constant struggle for dominance. Both started acting territorial, marking one another with bites and claw marks or becoming possessive over whoever was ‘submissive’ at the time in their ever-changing hierarchy. Sexual tension was constantly in the air, and literally nothing at all could cause the two of them to be at each other’s loins, yowling and hissing and bumping into furniture. Tara, being the only one somewhat annoyed by the home’s lack of tranquility, had voiced her concerns to the rest of the coven.

“Honestly, we’re just happy they’re getting along,” the others told her. “We’re not going to try and fix a good thing.” 

Tara had grumbled but acquiesced, deciding to stay far away from any and all supernatural horniness for a few more weeks, right up until the evening she realized the problem wasn’t going away. 

It started out pleasantly enough: Tara was sitting quietly in the corner of their cramped living room, doing a jigsaw puzzle and sipping herbal tea with her noise-canceling headphones on. On the floor in front of her, Catherine and Nyx weren’t far beyond the point of even pretending to fight, electing to just kiss and grope one another instead. Everything was peaceful.

And then it wasn’t. 

Tara allowed her gaze to linger on the huntresses for just a little too long, feeling a little pent up. Annoyed with herself for staring, she tried to ignore her arousal by crossing her legs, only to accidentally scrape her knee against the corner of her card table. A tiny little bead of blood formed from the scratch, and Tara let out a little gasp. Oops. Oh well; it was no big deal.

Until she looked up and saw Catherine and Nyx both staring at her. Tara’s eyes went wide as she suddenly realized her mistake. The huntresses not only recognized the taste of her lust, but also associated it with the trigger she’d implanted. She was part of the hierarchy just as much as they were, only not as another huntress.

As the prey.

Tara got up from her chair and tried bolting from the room, her instincts demanding she flee from the supernatural predators. Barely two steps in, she felt two bodies tackle her and pin her to the floor with barely any effort. With her heart pounding and her breaths quick and shallow, Tara desperately tried to squirm out of the grasp of her huntresses to no avail. She knew she could escape, could call for one of the other witches or use her telepathy to brute force her way out of the situation. Her soaking wet panties, hard nipples, and flushed chest were all good indicators of why she chose not to. 

Catherine knelt down beside her prone form, a manic grin lighting up her dilated eyes. “No point in struggling, little rabbit. You’re caught.” Her teeth pricked Tara’s neck and the witch froze up entirely, accepting her fate. Catherine’s bite was gentle but insistent, and the pain soon dissolved into warmth that engulfed her entire body. Tara whimpered and went limp.

“Such lust…” Nyx rasped. “You have wanted to join us all along.” It wasn’t a question; it didn’t need to be. Everyone knew the answer. The succubus pried Tara’s legs open and began expertly licking at her sex, collecting the copious arousal gathered in her folds. Tara gasped as the demon’s long, dextrous tongue pressed inside her for just a moment before darting out again. 

“You are a good meal, witch.” 

“Mm,” Catherine agreed, still lapping away at Tara’s neck. 

Sensing a brief lull in her huntress’ attention, Tara was able to kick her way free from their grasp. She crawled along the floor as fast as she could, having no time to stand, but only made it a few feet before she felt four supernaturally strong hands grab onto her ankles. Tara squealed as she was pulled back toward them, fear piercing her heart as her nails feebly scratched against the soft carpet. 

“No,” Nyx told Tara firmly, placing one hand on her exposed ass while the other began pumping in and out of her pussy. “Bad. Stay.” The demon’s pace was relentless, causing Tara’s toes to curl and her voice to rise to a screech as she hit several climaxes in a row. All the while, Catherine made a number of small bites along her neck, shoulders, and back, taking only a few drops of blood each time that still eventually added up to make Tara feel a bit lightheaded. Or maybe that was the fucking pussy-pounding she was getting. Probably both. 

The huntresses continued long after Tara had gone from sated to sensitive to sore and aching. What ultimately stopped them wasn’t any signal from her, but rather the realization that only one of them could claim their prey once this was over—and the fuck-fight that followed. Too exhausted to do anything but watch, Tara remained slumped over on the floor as Nyx once again proved her prowess as a huntress, forcing Catherine to back down. The blonde watched with jealousy as Nyx slung Tara over her shoulder and carried her away, bringing her trophy back to her little nest of pillows and blankets. 

Once there, Nyx set Tara down gently and proceeded to give the witch dozens of hickeys all along her neck, jaw, collarbone, and breasts. Tara could only mew quietly from time to time, as anything more would cause Nyx to calmly cup her over-sensitive sex until she yielded and became still once more. Finally, after what felt like at least an hour of licking, sucking, and marking, Nyx observed her work and seemed satisfied. 

“You are mine,” she purred contentedly, spooning her new prize. “All mine.”

Tara found it hard to disagree with that.