The Ritual

“Now where do you think you’re going? Just because you’ve stolen my dick and ruined my spell doesn’t mean you aren’t still useful to me.”

Your feet begin to hover off the ground, spinning you around to face the witch. She walks over to you, eyeing you like a cat who has caught a mouse.

“As you’re aware, I can’t steal my beautiful dick back from you but when you took not only your length but the lengths of those before you, you were also taking all of the magic that had been cast to get it. So all of that shrinking and growing magic is still inside you.”

She takes her hand and preciously cups your sack. Her fingernails glow with purple and green and your balls respond by also glowing the marbleized hues. You let out a moan as you feel your balls roll. The sensation feels good and your dick twitches in anticipation, but is to still too tired to stiffen.

“Oh no no no, but this won’t do! How can I harvest from you when you’re not even in full bloom? Don’t worry, I have my ways of making it easier to extract from you.”

She turns with a smirk and her full figure is on display as she saunters around the room looking at bottles, jars, and relics, occasionally picking up one. She returns, pulling over a table and places the objects on it.