You the witch

You’ve come this far. You may be a coward, but you are an opportunist too. While the witch is distracted you uncorck the vial and lean up the table. You’re quick, a sprinkling of the silvery powder into her dark wine, the ingredient at once dissolving into the dark liquid. You pull back quickly and stopper the vial, standing as if you’d never moved as the witch rises and turns to you once more.

“Here,” she says, passing you a leather collar like a dog’s. “Make her wear this. She’ll never realize what it is. But you and I will.”

You grin wolfishly as you take the leather ring. “It good. Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me,” the witch says, taking up her skull goblet. “Just knowing she has a life as a goblin broodmother will be something to keep me warm on those long winter nights.” Laughing, she throws back her head sending her dark hair spilling and gulps deeply of her wine.

Your grin widens as she drinks deep, then wavers as she puts the goblet back down. She glances down at you with annoyance. “You try my patience goblin. You have what you came for. Go.”

With a servile bow to hide your frown you back towards the door. “Thank you Spell One. A thousand thanks.”

“Yes. I know. Now get…”

You pause as her domineering tone fades, a puzzled look coming to her wild face. She stares blankly at the far wall for a moment. “I…What was I…”

You straighten and watch raptly as the witch’s knees shake. She lowers herself to the ground, staring at nothing with a dumbfounded expression. “Wait..I…I was…I feel…”

“Good?”

Her eyes snap up at your voice, fixing on you, then wandering lower and to your loincloth. She stares as if to drill holes in it, her nostrils flaring with your masculine scent. A grin twists your face and you throw aside the garment. She gasps as she sees your cock nestled between your legs, already at half mast. Her breath has quickened and her cheeks have grown flush. You suck in a breath as you see her begin to drool.

“You want me fuck you?” you ask.

“Ye…yes,” she gasps. “I would like that.”

She pauses, taken aback and seems confused for a moment at what she said. She frowns with an intent effort of concentration and grabs the side of the table to try and rise. She doesn’t get far. Her legs give out beneath her and she collapses to the floor, landing on all fours. Her flush spreads from her cheeks across her face, the skin visible between the rags of her dress doing likewise.

Prostrate as she is and tempting though it may be, you test the waters some more. “How you feel?” you ask.

“I feel…I feel really hot. And sexy.” The witch falls back onto her bum, her hands roaming across her body with an almost child-like air of discovery for how things feel. “Oh. Oh! My body…It feels so good!” Her hands slide down and brush aside the rags she calls clothes. Her fingers touch her furrow and she gasps. “Oh! That feels…Mmmn!” Her fingers push inside as she tosses back her head, moaning with delight as she enthusiastically fingers herself.

You take a moment simply to savour the sight of the once proud witch sitting on the floor, frantically frigging herself before you. Her breasts heave with her ragged breathing as she nears her climax. “Hah. Ah! Ahhh!” She arches with orgasm, a keening sound of pleasure breaking from her, the sound like a dog begging for something more. Satisfied she has given in to the poison, you advance across the room with a swagger of confidence. You push aside her hand, the witch giving a groan of protest.

“Quiet,” you say brusquely and take your cock in one hand, aiming for her sopping cunt. “I fill now.”

She gasps in delight. “Oh! Yes! That will feel sooooooh!” She gasps as you plunge inside her. Her cunt is hot with need and tense with desire, fairly sucking you into her sopping fuckhole. You strike up a quick pace, sliding out nearly to the head and then bucking your hips back in.

“Oh! Oh master! Please! More!”

“Master now?” you laugh, your hands grabbing her thighs and squeezing. “Then why you call me pathetic? You say no woman would want cock.”

She sobs in horror. “Master! I’m so sorry!” Tears of pleasure and shame cut streaks down her face. “Please master. I didn’t mean it.”

“Course you not,” you say, suddenly soothing. “You just dumb broodmother. You not smart like me. You get tricked after all.”

“Yes. Yes master! But please. Please fuck me!”

“You sure? I fill you full of goblin pups. You want that?”

“More than anything master! Breed me! Please! Your bitch begs. Breed me!”

You look up her body, through the valley of her heaving breasts to her face. A desperation to please you is visible in her wide eyes, fogged with pleasure and the potion induced stupidity. Every word comes accompanied by a gasp as you plunge into her and a moan as you pull back. She utterly helpless, writhing beneath your smaller form.

“Then you want me breed you?”

She nods vigorously, her chaotic hair swinging. “Oh yes master! Please! Please breed me!” She thrusts desperately against you. “Fill me with your cock! Fuck me master! I need it! Your bitch needs it so bad!”

You laugh, long and cruel, and the witch smiles beatifically, happy that you are laughing without troubling herself as to the cause. But her words had the desired effect. You’re hard as steel and her insides grip you like a vice. You pound her into the floor, the witch hurling back her head with a cry of ecstasy. Your hands leaver her thighs to find her breasts and squeeze them sending shockwaves through her writhing form. You lean over her, her rags whipping at the air as you fuck her, your mouth latching onto her teat. Before you cum she does, her second orgasm thundering through her, her heated box latching onto you. Her arms wrap about you and clutch you to her stomach, and as her insides clench against you, it tips you over the edge, and tearing your mouth from her breast, you howl as you coat her womb with your seed.

You are nothing if not thorough. You **** her until for a second time you fill her, and, spent at last, you pull free. Taking an unsteady step back you look on her gasping, heaving formShe’s nothing but a puddle of spent arousal. Her legs, splayed out shake with aftershocks and her sweat stained skin is flush with pleasure. You can practically smell her fertility from here as she giggles stupidly and strokes her breasts in idle, circular patterns. You shake your head in amused pity at her and approach her head. Like an animal from its burrow seeing the shadow of a predator, she looks up at you dumbly.

Leaning forward you brush your cock against her cheek, smearing her with your combined juices. “Clean,” you order.

Despite her exhaustion she eagerly lifts her head. Her tongue comes out, running along your warty cock, her hot breath sending the wiry hair above it rustling as she tenderly licks your glans like it was the most delicious thing she’s ever had.

You sigh in satisfaction, feeling the weight of the day’s work on your shoulders even as your **** happily tongues you. You glance out the window and wonder at the hour. It’s a long walk back to the keep, and looking to the witch, you doubt she’s in much of a condition to travel. Maybe you should wait until tomorrow so you can travel there with both the potion, and your new ****.