[Erotica] The Wanton Witch

She sighed as she emptied the contents of her cauldron. Her spellcasting lacked lustre these days and she knew precisely why. Her diary was a who’s who of the local warlocks, date after date leaving her disappointed and sexually frustrated. She did, of course, have ways to help relieve some of that frustration when she was alone, but she was longing for the passion and excitement that came from sexual indulgence with another. 

Luck was not on her side these days though and there wasn’t a spell in the world that could create the kind of magic she was yearning for. Despite all the fairytales about love potions, in reality, there was no spell to summon love to your door. Even witches just had to hope that one day love would come knocking. Or as it were in her case, lust, love she could live without but lust, that was someone she desperately craved. 

It was unlikely to find her if she remained behind closed doors though and she decided that it was time to leave the comfort of her home and travel for a while. It had been a long time since she saw the world and she had heard that much of it had changed, surely she would find at least one handsome warlock to pass the time with out in the wider world. With that thought in her mind, she stepped into the cool autumn night, not to begin her travels, but to merely plan with the crunch of fallen leaves under her feet and the blessing of the moon shining upon her. 

As the leaves rustled in the breeze and creatures of all kinds scurried about their business in the darkness she heard something that was entirely out of place. It was unmistakably the voice of a man and not a happy one. She could hear him cursing as he caused some kind of ridiculous commotion in the middle of the woods. To be more accurate, in the middle of her woods, these grounds belonged to her house and this man was in fact trespassing. 

She was instantly irate and began to travel in the direction of his voice to demand he left her property right away and she knew should he refuse she would turn him into a frog. She chuckled at that because she would not turn him into a frog, she would call the police, but a little witch humour always lightened her mood. Even in potentially unfortunate situations like the one she was facing. 

When she entered the clearing the man was standing in, she was met with a quite a sight. There he was trying to pitch a tent, in complete darkness, with no torch and he was quite obviously failing miserably. She had forgotten all about being angry at his trespassing and instead burst out laughing, which only increased in intensity when he screamed and began telling her to stay away whilst brandishing a tent peg in her direction. 

She was normally exceptionally cautious of strangers, which went some way to explaining why her dating life was such a disaster. This one, however, seemed so ridiculous in nature that she rather took to him straight away. Her interest in him increasing as she stepped towards him and realised as she sniffed the air around him that he had no scent of magic at all, he was unbelievably, just a man. It seemed to her that perhaps her adventure was beginning a little earlier than she had planned. 

He was hesitant when she invited him to abandon his tent and rest the night at her home, though she felt on the face of it he was safer than she, given the fact she was inviting a stranger into her home and she did not have the muscular bulk and physical strength she suspected he did. Despite his layers, there was something about the way he carried himself that made her curious to discover what lay beneath his clothes. The tingle she felt was undeniable, something about this man ignited the desire inside her. Perhaps it was not a warlock she needed after all. 

He found a seat cautiously when they entered her house, despite the conversation being surprisingly easy as they wandered together through the woods. His eyes were darting around her home, fixing on some things for longer than others and when she presented him with tea he stared into the cup and asked with some trepidation …

‘Your house is … er … interesting. You’re not some kind of witch are you?’

Her eyes took in the familiar surroundings, it was a very normal house for a witch, but she had never once invited or in fact known someone without magical abilities into her home and she was beginning to realise their houses were clearly quite different and probably she thought to herself a lot duller. 

‘Some kind of witch? Well, how many kinds of witch do you know about?’

‘Um … honestly? No kinds really, well no, that’s not true, there’s The Wicked Witch of the West, Sabrina, ooh Willow from Buffy … aaaand … oh yeah, all the ones from Harry Potter obviously.’ 

These were all names she knew, some were rooted in her own history, some were completely farcical and were a travesty that they were what the non-magical folk had as reference points for her kind. Still, she hadn’t answered his question and knowing how best to do that was tricky. 

‘Would you believe me if I said I was indeed a witch? Of the most real kind.’

‘Of course not! Witches don’t actually exist, right?’

‘We’ve spent an awfully long time talking about something that doesn’t exist, but as magic is not the reason you are here, I think it is probably something we needn’t worry ourselves with. Which reminds me, why are you here? In my woods I mean.’

He told her all about his life while she made them some supper. How his job had ended and a relationship break-up had caused a rift with his friends. In a moment of loneliness and frustration, he decided to grab his tent, his hiking gear and his dog and just set off around the country for a bit until his savings ran low enough to send him back to the city. 

‘Er … I hate to ask, but what happened to the dog?’

‘Oh he’s about, he is a bit of a wild one, he’s probably gone to find better food than I can provide. He’ll find me soon enough.’ 

They talked long into the night, he was an interesting and lovely man. But the longer they talked the more that initial tingle she felt ebbed away. She sighed, long and heavy as they departed for bed. He was quite a refreshing distraction in many ways, but sexually was not one of them.

Then in the early hours of the morning, that tingle was no longer a tingle, it was a tsunami of arousal. She woke from her dreams, her breathing ragged, her skin slick with sweat and an unmistakable ache between her thighs. She tried to compose herself to remember what she was dreaming about, as her dreams drifted away from her though something else drew her attention, scratching, lots and lots of scratching and it sounded like it was coming from her front door. 

Without really considering what she might find when she opened her door, she found herself ready and waiting to discover the source of the scratching, her leg having carried her there before her mind had really caught up to the situation. Upon opening the door, two things happened, a wave of relief hit her as she realised her visitor’s dog had indeed found his master and the throbbing between her thighs increased so dramatically it caused her to moan out loud before greeting the big black dog with a croaky hello. 

The dog it seemed had no name, apparently, any name he was addressed by caused him to snarl, so names were given up on, as was trying to domesticate him in any familiar fashion. He had simply turned up one day, started sleeping in her visitor’s house and content with the companionship he had let him stay. When the dog began following him when he went out he’d let it and so began their intriguing friendship. 

The whole time she was hearing about the appearance and behaviour of this dog, it had sat directly in front of her and quite disconcertingly had not blinked once whilst staring at her. If it wasn’t for deep, rhythmic movement of its breathes she would have been convinced it was a statue. 

When her visitor declared he was off to retrieve his tent, she imagined from all he had said that the dog would go with him, but no, the dog sat and made its intention to stay alarmingly clear. Even witches can lose their nerve sometimes and as fond as she was of animals, this beast of a dog was giving her chills down her spine and she could not deny that ever since it entered her house she’d been ridiculously aroused and that in itself made her feel quite uneasy. 

Once alone with the dog, she made a hasty retreat to the kitchen. Baking, that would help distract her, and not magical baking either, she’d do it the hard way, with measuring and hand whisking, anything to keep her away from the dog and distracted from thinking about her increasingly wet cunt. 

As she clattered about in kitchen she almost fainted when she heard a deep, gravelly voice behind her that was most certainly not that of her visitor. 

‘My name as it happens is Caleb, and I rather like it, hence not wanting to respond to Fido or Rover!’ 

She turned with alarming speed, knocking an array of things to the floor and her eyes were met with the most devastatingly gorgeous creature she had ever seen. He was tall, rugged, with dark eyes and swathes of long black hair and he leant against her doorway with such casual ease that she thought she might have forgotten he had always been there. 

‘Holy shit, are you? Fuck, no way, you’re … you’re the dog.’

He laughed and pulled up a chair at her kitchen table, which made him not only a lot closer to her in general, but it brought his head level with her now dripping cunt. The more she looked at him the hotter she became, the more he looked at her … well, let’s just say she was surprised her clothes hadn’t leapt from her body of their own accord. 

‘I’m sorry to have startled you with my transformation, you are a witch are you not?’

‘Well, yes, of course, I’m a witch but what on earth has that got to do with anything?’

‘Couldn’t you sense my magic? I thought you would easily put the pieces together when he started telling you all about my nature.’

‘I … no. You just seemed like … like … ooohh.’

Suddenly it dawned on her why she hadn’t sensed his magic, which he was right she ordinarily would have done. Especially when his scent would have been so distinctive, there were not many of his kind in her village, in fact, she had not met many like him at all.

‘Yes? You seem to have had some sort of revelation, care to share it?’

She looked at him, startled, she couldn’t possibly tell him what issue had been. That his presence had aroused her as she slept and her desire to fuck was unbearable when he was a dog, but now he was a fully formed man, well her desires were now fully formed in his direction. As eager as she had been lately to find passion with another, she could not confess all to a complete stranger, that seemed completely improper. Even for a witch, who were perhaps not known for their proper behaviour. They were usually unruly, disruptive and made polite society tremble with unease, but behind closed doors, they could be just as awkward as the next person. 

He stood up and moved even closer to her, so close in fact that his scent overwhelmed her senses, but still, it was not magic she could smell it was sex, he smelt like everything she had ever wanted in a man and she longed to nuzzle her nose against his neck and breathe him in deeply, intoxicating herself and leaving her unable to anything but yield to his body. 

‘Could the problem be that you are distracted by other things, not magic but shall we say chemistry? Which I personally think is magic of a rather wonderful kind.’

‘I … um … it’s just that …’

He didn’t wait for a more coherent response his lips simply met hers and she melted beneath him. His lips, his tongue, his deep rumbling growl, all of it was consuming her and she knew that this was the passion she had been seeking all along. 

He carried her through the house to her bed with a strength known only to those who walk as both man and beast, she had heard tales about his kind when she was younger, but never did she imagine she would find herself experiencing it for herself. Even as his lips explored her body, she tried to remember what else the tales told of them, but she could not think of anything but his mouth, his hands, his body against hers. 

He made fast work of her clothes and his nose travelled the length of her body and he made no effort to hide the dog-like behaviours that lingered when he was in human form, she had never been sniffed from head to toe, but something about it made her insides melt and even though she was desperate to feel him inside her, she was revelling in the attention he was paying her. 

She wondered when he sniffed at her cunt and growled in a most appreciative manner if his tongue would find its way into her wetness, or perhaps his fingers would move into her, she wanted both desperately, feeling like she could come from the faintest of touches. Neither happened though, instead, he stripped himself of his clothes, revealing a body so hairy it resembled his dog form more than his human one, but the broad, muscular frame was all man and the erection he was sporting made her mouth water and cunt ache. 

When he returned to the bed he hovered over her, he positioned himself so that his cock rested against her wet cunt and his lips met her once more and without thinking she moved towards the pleasure she had been aching for, his cock sinking into her with an ease she had never known. For a moment he stayed completely still, his eyes locked with hers, as he had done downstairs when she thought she was being sized up by a very peculiar kind of dog. The only movement was hers as she lost herself in sensations she was creating as she lay beneath him, bucking and writhing against him. 

When he finally moved he took her breath away and when her ability to form sounds had returned the noise she made was entirely unfamiliar to her. She was like a woman possessed, her moans were more like howls and her hands unsatisfied by the sheets crumpled into her fists began to scratch at his back and when his response to this was growl into her ear, it was the only incentive she needed to give in to the climax she had been heading towards. 

They did this for what felt like hours, rolling around on her bed as he moved her into various positions, pumping his dick into her over and over. He did eventually begin taking breaks, but she was allowed no respite, he would trade his dick for fingers and tongue. Pinning her with ease to the bed which seemed to intensify her orgasms and she could nothing except become the puddle of sex he was turning her into. 

Finally, the moment she thought would never come, came to fruition, and it came across her tits. Every time she thought she couldn’t get more turned on by him he did something that proved her wrong, as she watched him jerk off as she straddled her chest, and subsequently watch with fascination as he spurted his load all over her bite mark infested boobs, she realised this is what she had been missing all her life. Animalistic, dirty, raw fucking.

Her whole life it had all been so, sedate, so formal, so fucking boring! But now, well now a whole new world had opened up to her and as they heard the front door opening her new lover transformed into a dog before her eyes, the dog then winked at her before rushing out of the room wagging its tail as it went. It was a strange reminder of what he was, but she had to confess to herself, his nature was part of the appeal. 

She showered before heading downstairs to make dinner for her guests, where she would watch her new lover eat his dinner from a bowl on the floor before he curled up beside her on the sofa and rested his large canine head in her lap, nudging her hand until she began to stroke his head. She raised her eyebrows at the large dog, but he just closed his eyes and sighed with contentment and she couldn’t deny that as she burrowed her fingers into his fur she felt an inner peace washing over her that she had never known before. 

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