Shove her to the ground.

If I gave the witch a moment, she would surely break free of whatever minor enchantment or narcotic lurked in my seed.

I lunged towards her, grabbing her cloak as she tried to escape me. She grasped her head, struggling against the effect of my cum, and I pulled her off-balance with a yank of the cloak. She stumbled towards me and I used my grip and her momentum to toss her to the ground. She landed heavily, grunting in pain, but her eyes still burned. She wasn't beaten yet.

I let my claws go to talons and tore the cloak from her, revealing a tattered black dress with a plunging neckline. There wasn't much to display, but it left little to the imagination anyway. I reached down and grabbed her pussy, probing with my fingers through the fabric. She quivered on my clawed hand and for a moment I worried about the talons making a mess of her sex. As I thought it, however, the talons receded and left me with obsidian nails.

With my other hand I pinned her arms above her head, stopping her from striking at me in defiance. A tremendous hunger was welling in me, doubling and redoubling as I grew harder and my lust burned hotter. I stared into her defiant eyes, a clear crystalline blue, and flashed her a dangerous smile.

"A silent struggle, then?" I asked conversationally, forcing my fingers deeper. Even through the fabric of her dress she was beginning to feel it, as the growing flush of her cheeks attested. Her pupils were struggling to stay completely focused, and regularly stared to dilate. "Or are you too scared to speak?"

"I don't. . ." She muttered, shaking her head slightly as her hips began to buck in time to the ministration of my fingers. "What is this? You're not. . ."

I pulled her dress up, stopping my hand long enough to rip away her panties. Her beautiful face screwed up in concentration as I resumed, this time with my fingers sinking deep into her bare flesh. I used my thumb to work her clit as I thrust two rough fingers into her cunt.

"Fool." I said, feeling a well of joy bubble up as her eyes lost their focus. "Did you think you were stronger than me? Better than me? You should have given me respect, and not underestimated the power of a mere man."

Her eyes regained their focus, and I faintly heard the sound of something breaking. Her face and body changed as I continued to violate her. Her skin lost it's luminous whiteness and her face hardened into something far less exquisite. She went tan, and then her skin settled into an odd green. Her jaw had changed shape to accommodate jutting tusks from her lower mouth, and her nose had become shorter and more upturned. Her eyes, however, stayed that remarkable blue.

Her slender form, while still short and having small breasts, became more solid and muscular. More like a swimmer or a dancer than a normal waif. And, with the extra strength gained, she ripped her arms from my grasp and punched me in the nose. I recoiled, my hand come free from her pussy with a 'schlict'.

"And. . ." She struggled to her feet, her face flushed and her eyes flickering between strong and dazed. "You should respect my power. The power of. . .of. . ."

I rubbed the blood from my nose as she tried to compose herself. I felt an even greater surge of lust at the show of defiance. The hunter in my blood relished the challenge, and it awoke something else in 'me' personally; in the part that was deepest. This witch, who was about as human as I was, was interesting.

Hard as I'd ever been, with claws growing to talons on each hand, I walked towards the weakened witch.