The Witch's Garden

Morgan walked between the boughs of the trees of her garden, Although, maybe garden was too strong a word for the section of forest she personally tended to. It was a garden in the sense that she decided what grew and nurtured in it. To the untrained eye, it would look just like any other part of the forest. The full moon hung high in the sky as she made her way through the garden and she did not fear any predators for her garden was protected.

She walked wearing nothing but a leather harness, the dark brown straps digging into her pale flesh and her nipples hard from the cool evening air. She was carrying a wicker basket and her wand hung in a holster off of her hip. She may be safe in her neck of the woods, but that did not mean she was stupid. Any belligerent enough peasant could barge their way into her home if they really wanted to.

She came to the place she was searching for: a patch of mushrooms that she’d been growing for the past few weeks, planted during the new moon they were now ready for harvest. She crouched down onto her heels, rounding out her ass nicely for anyone who might’ve been around to look, and took out her wand and began carefully severing the stalks and removing the mushrooms by hand, taking only the ones whose caps had fully bloomed, and placing them neatly into her basket.

She licked her lips. These were special mushrooms, and they’d been hard to find. When dried out and made into a powder, they were a powerful aphrodisiac. When collected under the light of the full moon like tonight, their effects were empowered by magic, making them potent ingredients for poultices and potions. There was no such thing as a love potion, but what she was making was a close second.

Morgan had no partners in mind, but that didn’t matter because she’d never planned on marrying. All she wanted was a daughter to pass down her knowledge to. Also, Morgan was a free woman, the idea of being tied down to a single man for her entire life was just as appalling to her as the idea of being an easy woman was to the common folk. That was fine, so long as they were content to live and let live, Morgan couldn’t care less what others thought of her. But she knew they wouldn’t. How many of her sisters had they burned at the stake?

Morgan banished the depressing thought from her mind as she raised herself back up and holstered her wand. She had ingredients to prepare.

As she sauntered back to her cottage, Morgan heard a soft mewling from one of the tree branches. Morgan looked up at the source of the noise, and a tiny patch of void stared back at her. She smiled at her familiar, “Well, hello there, Midnite. How does this night fare you?”

“It fares me well, Mistress,” Midnite replied, the words drifting to Morgan’s mind rather than her ears, “But it should be of some interest to you that an intruder was spotted entering your garden.”

“Oh? Someone I know?”

“I have not seen this person before, Mistress,” Midnite projected an image of a dashing and rugged young man. As she watched the memory, she saw that he kept casting his gaze to the forest floor, as if searching for something.

“A huntsman,” Morgan mused, banishing the image from her mind. They typically weren’t picky about what pussy they got while on the hunt. Morgan had had her fill of such gentlemen, but she knew every huntsman in the area now. The new face made her nervous. Should she take the risk?

“You seem excited,” Midnite remarked after sniffing the air. Morgan felt between her legs. Oh yeah, she was wet. Had it really been that long?

Morgan sighed, what could it hurt? If the young man wished her harm, she could always erase his memories and then send him back on his way. But she couldn’t go out and meet him like this, and she had to drop her mushrooms off first, at least.

Morgan felt Midnite’s smugness as she entered her cottage. The sneaky little cat, he was doing this on purpose! She wasn’t actually mad, though. She really did need to get laid, and she might not need to go to the village if this all worked out, anyways. She set down her basket on the table and slipped on the cloak she had on hand for situations such as this. She then cast an invisibility spell on herself and took off into the night.

She found him minutes later, tracking the prints of a deer that had passed through her garden half a day hence. Morgan had considered hunting it herself, but then decided against it, as she already had venison stocked up in her cottage from a previous hunt. Tonight, however, she hunted a different kind of meat.

She pulled out her wand and cast a minor illusion spell that would lead the man into a different part of her garden, where she grew flowers that produced scents that dulled the mind and inflamed passions. She then ran ahead of him to cast spells on said flowers to silently and invisibly spread their spores, further enhanced by her magic and the natural magic of the full moon. She then lowered her hood and waited for the man to arrive, ending the invisibility spell.

She checked the mana stored in her wand’s crystal. If this went south, she would have enough left over for a mind wipe spell before it needed recharging. But the full moon was out…, making a daring move, Morgan quickly put up her hair and held it in place with her wand. With it out and absorbing the moon’s natural energy, she might be able to gain enough mana for another spell before this was over. With any luck, the huntsman would just think it a simple hair ornament.

Before long, the huntsman came creeping along, swiftly following the tracks of his prey. Morgan called out to him, “What brings you to my garden, huntsman?”

He startled and looked up, his expression wary. When he saw Morgan, his expression softened, “My apologies, ma’am, I was not aware that I was trespassing.”

“No apologies, needed, young man,” Morgan poured on the charm.

“I was tracking this deer to feed my family,” the huntsman explained, “Normally it would be my father who does it, but he has taken ill.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Morgan said genuinely, “The prey you search did pass through my domain earlier today. I’m afraid you missed it by several hours.”

The huntsman became slightly crestfallen at this news, “I had thought I was closing in on it and only need take it while it slept.”

“I have food back at my cottage if your need is dire,” Morgan offered.

“I do not wish to rely on a stranger’s charity,” the huntsman refused.

“Silly boy,” Morgan tittered, allowing a leg, long and glowing in the moonlight to slip out of her cloak. She saw his eyes fixate on it and his breath quicken slightly, “What I am proposing is not charity, but a trade.”

“A trade?” he asked.

“I give you food, and in exchange I want your seed,” Morgan told him.

“My…,” the huntsman shook his head, “Wait. My father warned me…, you’re a witch.”

Morgan sighed. Dammit, this had been going so well. Maybe this encounter could still be salvaged, “That I am, but I assure you that I mean you no harm. As long as you’re in my domain, you have guest rights.”

Morgan saw him visibly relax at that statement. Guest rights weren’t just an agreement, they were a magically binding contract. So long as he was on her property, she could not harm him or allow him to come to harm through inaction. It was an agreement rife with loopholes, but so were most things created by the fae.

“What do you want with my seed?” the huntsman’s suspicion shining through his mental haze.

“Nothing sinister, I assure you,” Morgan told him, “I simply wish to have a daughter, and it’s been so long since I’ve last had company.” As she said this, Morgan pulled at the top of her cloak, exposing her leather-bound chest to him. “No would ever have to know of this.”

“But my family,” the huntsman protested weakly, his bulge growing ever more evident in his pants, “Won’t they be suspicious that I came back with food rather than a buck?”

“If your father knows of me, then he’s most likely had relations with me as well,” Morgan smiled wickedly, “I’m well liked among all the other huntsmen. You wouldn’t be doing anything your father hasn’t.”

“But, my mother…,” the huntsman frowned.

“Either doesn’t know or is okay with it,” Morgan crossed the distance between them. This was dangerous, he could stab her with a knife now and she wouldn’t be able to protect herself but she needed to seal the deal with this young man. She caressed his face, directing his sight to that of her ample cleavage. She let the cloak fall open, exposing her nudity.

His breathing quickened even more and he looked like he was about to burst out of his pants. “All I want is your seed,” Morgan said in a low sultry tone into his ear, lips so close they almost brushed against his lobe, “And you would receive enough food to feed your family for a month. An good trade wouldn’t you say?”

“And if you produce a child?” the huntsman gasped, Morgan could feel that this was the last obstacle that she had to break down before they could seal the deal.

“You wouldn’t be responsible for her,” Morgan told him, “But I won’t stop you from visiting, if that’s what you wish.” She took the huntsman’s length in her hand, feeling his hardness through his pants.

That’s all it took to break the last shred of the huntsman’s resistance as she leaned in for a kiss and he reciprocated. Morgan unfastened her cloak, letting it fall to the ground and exposing her almost fully nude form to him. She gently pushed him down onto the dirt, pulling his shaft free of his garments before mounting him. Her moist cave glided over his length effortlessly and she began grinding into him slowly. She had to be careful, as this young man was no doubt inexperienced and would cum quickly. Not that it mattered much, but the longer she let this go on, the more seed he would produce for her.

She took his hands, guiding them to her sensitive places, encouraging him to touch and caress. He clumsily took one of her breasts into his palm, kneading it like bread dough. It was rough, but not unpleasant. She let him think that he was getting her off by moaning softly at his touch.

The tightness of her pussy started to get to be too much for him and he started bucking his hips, she responded in kind matching his rhythm and speed. Just as she predicted, their joining was disappointingly short and he dumped his seed into her unceremoniously without so much as a warning.

“Mmm, good boy,” she cooed as she took out a small plug that hung from her neck and placed it in her cum painted folds. She cleaned him off with her mouth, savoring the taste of his life essence, empowered by the light of the full moon.

When he left with his payment in tow, Morgan did feel a small tinge of regret. She could have used her wand to reduce his refractory period so that they could’ve gone again. Oh well, maybe next time.