The Good Witch

Sam needed to clear his head. For weeks there was a looming and antagonising buildup of mental pressure. Persistent and unshaking. The woods. He needed to get away from it all.

Early that fine Friday morning Sam did just that. Alone, he just walked off. He’d taken an extra day off to make a long weekend. There were plenty of trails around his town. The only things with him were contained in a small back pack; snacks and water. He had finally set off.

Alone with his thoughts, naturally he daydreamed as he walked. About life, and well, everything. He drifted in thought to his next holiday and the things around the house he needed to fix. He lamented on previous relationships gone by. And that fuelled a few thoughts about sex and his more adventurous experiences with women. Taking in the sunshine, he stood and looked around the outcrop he’d come to. He felt as if he was king of the world – a small valley laid out below him. The trails, though never usually very busy, were exceptionally quiet this weekday. Horny from his kinky recollections, Sam took off his backpack, pulled his pants around his ankles and begun to masturbate. He’d done this a few times in nature as a teenager – there was just something so wrong, yet so right about being naked amongst the wilderness. Satisfying a primal taboo desire, Sam edged himself there on the rocky ledge overlooking the valley. A blissful minute later he shot his ejaculate, with surprising force, off the little cliff and into the shrubs below. Sated, and now weary of the boldness of his actions, he couldn’t shake the feeling he was watched.

Onwards (and now fully dressed) Sam trudged, muesli bar in hand. He continued to walk for a few more hours, the terrain grew steeper as he went. His left foot slipped first, he steadied momentarily before falling on his ass as he slid down the steep slope. Reaching out desperately for anything he could, he plummeted over a small embankment.

Sam awoke in near darkness. Frantic, he scrambled to his feet and kicked the blanket? off himself. A voice from his right, cooed with reason that he’d been unconscious for a couple hours. He spun around the instant she spoke and was met with a warm, and friendly face part illuminated by a small fire. There, in the tiny cabin crouched a pale woman cooking with a cast iron pot. She wore entirely black. A long sleeved dress that seemed to shimmer in the firelight. Most interestingly, the woman had a pastel blue shade of lipstick on. Sam found himself absolutely enchanted by those lips and looked at nothing else as she introduced herself as Genevieve, the good witch.

“The good, w-WITCH?” Sam stuttered, unsure how hard he’d hit his head. Instinctively he traced his right temple.
“You’re not experiencing a hallucination” Genevieve assured him. “Although you did take a rather nasty fall a couple hours after your cum ruined my new hat!” She gestured to the white stains that painted a peaked black hat, slung on the back of a timber chair.

Sam blushed and again stammered, some form of a meek apology pursued.
“Oh that’s quite alright, nothing a bit of vinegar won’t fix.” “There is nothing quite like the feeling of relief in the outdoors is there?” She chuckled. “Although it was rather unfortunate I happened to be collecting sage in that valley below you. Here I was, crouched down amongst the herbs when I felt what I thought was rain at first. I glanced up to see your cock 20 metres above me.” She laughed whole heartedly. “I thought for a second I had hit my head. From there I just couldn’t believe what I had seen and well, to be frank, I followed you out of curiosity. And Good thing I did! Or the coyotes would’ve started to pick at you by now.”

Sam uttered a thank you, and introduced himself awkwardly; all seemingly as one word. Unsure of how to recover from the continuing embarrassment he looked around the quaint little cabin. Stacked river stone made up the walls and a thatched roof gave cover. The single bed he was sitting on hinted at a singular existence for his newfound acquaintance. “You live out here on your own?”
“I’ve lived here on my own for a couple years, yes. My parents were hippies. Mother taught me all about remedial herbs, poultices, eastern medicines. She taught me the way of many shamans, how to read palms and tell futures, the general order of the natural and spiritual world. “- Oh, The soup is ready, would you like some?” she interrupted herself.

Instantly now aware of his appetite, Sam finished a bowl of an unusual flavoured soup before the witch handed him some pouch tobacco and a flagon of port wine. They each shared the warm drink and smoked outside under the moonlight, talking like old friends. The wine certainly abided conversation but there was something so natural about their companionship that it was very late in the evening before they each retired to their bedding. Genevieve, upon bidding goodnight, had directed Sam to a bed roll she had laid out in the front corner of the room.

Late morning sun streamed in the room. Genevieve was already awake fixing eggs on the fire. Sam took his time to admire her figure. She was crouched side on to him, glowing in the morning sunlight. She was slender but not necessarily petite, in the same dress as last night he could see it was actually sheer! Her perk breasts filled the black robe as it cascaded down her front before sweeping in a gather to her side. The open side of the gown draped lightly on the floor and Sam’s eyes traced from her small toes all the way up the side of her thigh to her bare waistline. She was gorgeous. He was instantly aware of his pulsing erection.

She acknowledged his lustful stare by meeting her icy blue eyes with his. She stood and made her way over to him gracefully. Her open gown let her breasts sway softly as she moved. Their lips met deeply as Sam ran his hands from her neck down to her chest. He took what he guessed were C cup breasts in each hand and fondled them gently. He removed her wrap dress as she slid her hands down to unbutton his jeans. Genevieve gripped him in her hand and used her thumb to encircle his tip. She spread his precum under his frenulum are around his head. He felt like he was going to cum then and there. Sam pushed away to undress and their bodies then collided as if powerful magnets lay beneath their skin. Her chest pressed hard up against his. Kissing her soft lips cast him into a trance where time undeniably stood still. It was only when she stopped to wrap those blue lips around his cock did he again draw breath. Her pink tongue darting out between her coloured lips to circle his tip the same way her thumb had just before. He was convinced Genevieve was right when they initially met – she was, in fact, a witch. Some kind of succubus.

She told him (now with a full mouth) how she had wanted so badly to suck his dick yesterday. She stopped sucking momentarily, stroking his cock to say that what he did on that ledge, was an incredible waste of cum. He would never again need to masturbate, she would take care of his every sexual need. And with that anecdote she took him completely into her throat and pushed down several times in quick succession to make sure she got every last millimetre of him. Sam came. HARD. The poor girl tried her very best to swallow it all, but it was too much. Thick ropes of white cascaded down his cock out the sides of her mouth. She coughed but continued to suck slowly. Eventually, cleaning up his mess.

He was in post orgasm ecstasy as she pressed his face gently into her chest and ran her fingers through his hair. She promised to satisfy his every waking sexual need. But there was a catch. In return for his complete gratification, her needs were the first to be met. She was to be treated as the goddess she is and only then would she decide to reward him. SHE was to be the top.
Whether Sam was concussed, under a spell or fogged by the best blowjob of his entire life, he agreed to a trial run over the weekend. With that, Genevieve placed his arms by his side, and climbed on top his face.

Her knees and feet locked his arms by his side as she used him at the speed and rhythm which she chose. She started slow, playing with her perfect breasts. Softly pinching her nipples and running her hands over her body. Her hips gyrating against his tongue. Eventually she started to rotate her hips faster, gripping fistfuls of his hair tightly. Sam could barely breathe, his face forcibly pressed deep between her thighs. His face was soaking wet! From his chin to his nose. He knew she was going to cum and he pressed hard on her clit with the flat of his tongue before plunging the tip of it as deep as he could inside her. Genevieve began to squirt – a lot. She pinched his nose, reached beneath her and held his mouth open with the other hand. The witch commanded he swallow, and he gulped it down gratefully. His mount then slumped to the side, quivering in a heap. They each caught their breath.

Genevieve did not dress, before moving to throw out, the now burnt eggs. She told Sam he’d done a fantastic job, and for that she’d make him her favourite type of mushroom omelette. They were each silent as they ate. Still recovering their strengths from the morning’s foray.

After breakfast Sam’s bladder was bursting, he hadn’t gone since before he went to bed. He asked politely where the toilet was. A wry grin crept over Genevieve’s face. “Rule #3” she spoke, I own your right to the bathroom. Sam’s face puzzled, she hadn’t introduced the first rules yet. She chuckled aloud “One. My sexual needs come before your own. I use you how I see fit. Two. Your orgasms belong to me. You’re not to cum unless explicitly told. And three. Yes that’s right, you cannot go pee without asking permission first.”
Sam felt he was in way over his head. Was he crazy for letting this near-stranger control him? Usually in his sex life, the gender/power roles favoured him. It was odd though, he trusted her. She inexplicably made him feel calm and safe. He decided to run with it, how long could she deny him for, really?

Genevieve asked Sam to put on only his shoes, she did the same. The witch led him naked and casually to a small stream. While only a short walk, Sam was acutely aware of his bladder. Now, beside the quiet sounds of the flowing water, he was practically jumping from foot to foot. She asked him to piss in the fast flowing stream. She guided his dick. Playing with it as he peed for a good minute. She aimed him at the sky. The afternoon sun refracting off the pale liquid as it spouted in a massive arc, landing noisily into the water below them. She then pointed it at her feet and giggled as it splashed her petite toes and the surrounding stones. Once he was almost done, she bent at the waist and took him and the last few drops into her mouth. She sucked him dry.

Without word, the witch then crossed the 6 foot wide creek, and perched herself on the opposing bank. She faced him, crouched and also relived herself into the water. Her little triangle tuft of pubic hair decorated her pussy like a pom pom. The remainder, cleanly shaven below, allowed Sam an unobstructed view of her presentation. He’d never really considered watersports to be a turn on, but then again this weekend was one of many firsts.

They swam together upstream, in a cool deep pool. They bathed and afterwards, as he lay in her arms, she sung a sweet song in a language he did not recognise. It was surely the most relaxed he’d ever felt. Genevieve guided him back to the cabin where she offered him tea. He couldn’t quite pick it, but the tea tasted like some of the unusual herbs she’d used in last nights soup. He was quietly pensive as he sipped, reflecting on his time there before dozing off into a dreamless sleep.

It was dusk. Sam awoke slowly at first, but became aggressively aware he was gagged and his wrists and ankles were tied to the bed frame. He felt tight, and claustrophobic. He had restraints across his chest and thighs too! He couldn’t even remember falling asleep, let alone being tied up. ‘That bitch drugged me and tied me up!’ He thought to himself. He made futile struggle at the restraints. Genevieve, emerging from the corner of the cabin, looked sinister. She was wearing high heeled leather boots that caressed the tops of her calves. A needlessly short, black leather skirt contrasted her pale white thighs. Sam glimpsed at her partiality shaved pussy from his low angle of view on the bed. She’d adorned a pentagram harness top. Her hat, not yet clean, was also perched atop her head. The witch approached the bed slowly, her heels click-clacking on the floor. Sam looked around frantically and was confused by his massive erection.
“Oh darling Sam, I slipped you something in your tea;
something to knock you out while I tied you up. And something else to rouse your cock.” She hit it relatively hard with an open palm. It bounced straight off his abdomen and back to attention, undeterred. “You see, I haven’t had my fill.” She coaxed.

The witch crouched on the bed and straddled his waist. He could feel on his stomach she was already very wet. Genevieve confessed to her impatience, she had masturbated while waiting for him to wake. She expertly rocked backward and his full length slid slowly inside her waiting pussy. He nearly forgave her transgressions then and there – she truely did have him under a spell. Genevieve then just sat still with him inside her. Perched above him as if on a pedestal. She spoke, and as she did so, contracted her PC muscles rhythmically. Sam could feel alternating pressure on his base, shaft and head. He’d experienced nothing quite like it. “Sam, I’ve been out in this forest for years to get away from society. But I’ve met no-one else that bonded as instantly and passionately as we have. I want you to give me a daughter to pass down my ways to, just as my mother did to me.” She began to slowly rock her hips on his cock.
“NNNNNUUUUUGGGGGGHHHH” Sam screamed. “You crazy bitch” he spat through the gag. He bucked and writhed but it was no use. The tea worked like magic and he was as hard as he’d ever been. She pumped her hips against his relentlessly. Very slowly building up speed. All the while her pussy never stopped the contractions around his cock. He knew there’d be physically no way he could stop himself from impregnating her. Sam willed with all his might. His face, he could feel was red with anguish. He was screaming through the gag.

The witch was ignoring Sam and his pleas to stop. She was in a trance. He felt so good inside her. She always fantasied of being bred. This was her moment to be absolutely filled with cum. It was so hot to enact an abduction. The power she felt! This truely was the ultimate rush. She grinded her hips unfaltering into his. Her clit was pressing at just the right angle against his pelvis. She moaned loudly and rubbed her tits roughly. Sam’s body tightened, signalling his near climax beneath her. She looked into his helpless eyes and blood choked her captive as they both came.

Sam had no choice. The combination: lack of blood flow to his brain, and her orgasm forcing her pussy to tighten around his shaft. She literally milked his cock inside her as he passed in and out of consciousness. She rode him into oblivion. There was so many endorphins flooding him. He thought he might be dead.

Sam had cum so hard, Genevieve could FEEL it shoot inside her. She revelled in the moment for a couple minutes before she pulled herself off his cock. Still atop him, she sat back and spread her legs for him to see. She used those amazing PC muscles to squeeze the cum out all over his half-erect cock. She wiped the residual cum from her pussy and smeared his and her juices all over Sam’s face. Kissing down his body she lapped up all his remaining cum. The white cream frosted those pastel blue lips like a winter painting. She pulled her panties out his mouth. “That was a whole heap of my kinks crossed off the list. Thank you!” She chirped. “And before you freak out, I’m on contraceptive.” Her eyes rolled.

Sam yelled defiantly. “You drugged me, and tied me up!”
Genevieve smiled disarmingly, “You fell asleep after I gave you a herbal tea. Kind of has the same effects as viagra but it also relaxes you… like chamomile.” “We were up so late last night, I figured you were just beat.”
Sam sighed with some relief.
“I was going to let you sleep, but then I got bored playing with myself, I wanted to play with you!” Genevieve smiled mischievously.
She untied Sam and they lay together in post orgasm bliss. Genevieve fell asleep in his arms as he gently traced her skin. He soon followed suit.

Sunday mid morning rolled around quickly after the two slept in. She was up before him rummaging through a bowl on the table. She grabbed something colourful and made her way to the bed. Legs spread so Sam could see, she then produced a large smooth opal. The witch inserted the opal into her pussy before she shot it out half a foot, hands-free. Sam laughed in amazement. Genevieve practised her kegels daily. It certainly explained some of the devil vagina magic he had experienced.

They chatted over lunch and that afternoon Genevieve walked Sam back to the trail. She made sure to point out landmarks as they went. She kissed him deeply goodbye. Grabbing his cock through his jeans she reminded him of her rules. “Your punishment is to edge yourself daily until we next meet. You came last night without asking…”

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/qbojfj/the_good_witch