The Witch's Captive

Evric Thorne had journeyed all day, the straps of his pack cutting into his broad, lean shoulders. His tousled dark hair was slick with sweat, dripping down the brow of his handsome face to rest on his sharp, square jaw.

The sun was almost setting. It swept the shadows of the trees along the forest floor like spears. His own shadow, tall and muscular - froze suddenly as he realised his destination was just up ahead. His pace quickened as he strode forward triumphantly, the leather of his boots crunching slightly as twigs snapped underfoot.

Evric reached the threshold of a large clearing. The long, lush grass swayed in the breeze, glittering with the golden rays of sunlight. His eyes swept the clearing before spying something odd. A distant corner of the clearing looked cloudy, hazy. He stared at the haze for a moment thoughtfully and concentrated. It appeared as the haze melted away - a small cottage on the far side, with a lush garden and wooden fence.

A concealment spell. Basic, but powerful. Be brave, Witch-Slayer, he warned himself, his hand absent-mindedly gripping at the leather-wrapped hilt of his sword.

Remember your training.

Technically, he was not a Witch-Slayer yet - but Evric would never let his inexperience get in the way of his own success. He pushed the thought from his mind, and mentally ran through the list of details he had been reciting to himself as he had trekked for hours through the forest.

The witch's cottage lies in the north of the forest. None of the great Warriors and Witch-Slayers who have ever set out to find it have ever found it - some have never even returned - but her cottage is in there somewhere. She is hideous, malevolent, and cruel. She will try to ensnare your mind and deceive you, but it is always a trick. Mirella the Malevolent will kill you soon as look at you. Be sure to stab her in the heart, Slayer. It's the only way you'll make it out alive.

The Oakgrove innkeeper's tale had sounded... rehearsed, larger than life, but his eyes had been earnest and sincere.

Evric knelt at the edge of the clearing and began the rituals and preparations that he had been taught. Unrolling a small kit from his pack, he chalked his hands with a protection spell and oiled his sword in the blessed Witch-Slaying solution he had prepared earlier.

The prayer surfaced to his lips, bubbling up from long-practised study sessions at the academy.

"Gods, bless the steel of this blade with your strength. Grant me the same strength to survive the fury of the coming tempest. Make me your weapon of choice against the Hexen-Blood. Make me your right hand."

Evric felt a well of holy strength within him. Or, at least, he was pretty sure that this was what holy strength felt like. He hoped.

"Gods, let me prevail," he muttered to himself.

Rising back to his feet, he straightened up the sheath on his belt and strode as confidently as he could into the clearing.

No magical traps, he thought. That's good.

The clearing felt as though it took a lifetime to cross. His heart began to pound in his chest, his throat growing dry as he marched. As he pressed further and further on, the cottage loomed bigger with every step.

His heart skipped a beat as he saw that a young woman was watering plants in the front garden of the cottage. The steel of his blade hissed softly as he drew it from its sheath, glinting in the setting sun. Crouching low, he crept forward, slinking through the long grass.

Evric's stomach turned as he grew closer and got a better look. The woman was... young, and devastatingly beautiful. Her hair was long and wavy, a dark brown that glowed bronze in the sun. She finished watering a half-barrel of herbs, taking a moment to close her eyes and smell their aroma. She knelt barefoot in the dirt as she hummed to herself amongst a patch of sunflowers that were buzzing with bees. His eyes were drawn from her flowing hair to the subtle curves of her body, hinted beneath the dress she wore.

Evric's jaw clenched as a flicker of anger rose in his chest.

The evil witch has taken a slave.

His knuckles tightened on his sword.

She has put her to work in the garden.

Evric considered the situation carefully in his mind, weighing up what course of action to take. Finally, he came to a decision.

"Pssst," he hissed at her.

The girl flinched, looking around for the source of the noise. She caught his gaze and stood up to face him slowly.

Her eyes were a gorgeous brown, flecks of gold making them burn like fire. They were framed by streaks of deep purple dyed into her brown hair. Her lips had a fullness to them, and her cute button nose was pierced with a small stud of silver. A smile flickered across her face as she dusted her palms off on her thighs.

"Psst! You there! Girl!" he said, a little more urgently this time. Her smile faded a little, and she looked back at the cottage.

"Are you speaking to me?" she asked him.

Even her voice was attractive, he thought. Easy and tomboyish, but feminine too - like a catchy tune played in a cosy tavern.

"Who else, girl? There isn't much time, you really must pay attention to me."

Evric did his best to sound urgent but calm, emulating Master Fandell - one of his instructors from The Order of the Sun. Despite his best efforts to do so however, she almost seemed to laugh as he spoke, covering a grin with her hand.

"Oh, I see. Are you lost, Woodsman? Or did you just come to stare?"

She tossed her hair, smiling innocently at him. Something uncomfortable in him stirred and a wave of heat flushed his face.

"Er... No. Not staring, um, I'm not sure... where you got that from. Anyway, sorry, it's just - I'm here to rescue you."

She giggled.

"From this conversation?"

Feeling very stupid and unsure of what to say, he lifted his sword plainly into her view - hoping it would impress the seriousness of what was happening.

"Listen, girl. You need to pay attention. You're in serious, serious danger. Where is the Witch?"

Evric moved closer, resting his sword against one shoulder as he reached the fence of the cottage. He expected - or even hoped - that she would show even a flicker of fear at the sight of his weapon; however, she simply rolled her eyes.

"Wow," she drawled. "Serious, serious danger. That sounds... serious. And dangerous. As for the witch, she's probably just a little exhausted and in need of some tea and dinner."

She walked backward towards the cottage, her eyes on his sword as his own eyes widened in realisation.

"Witch," he cried in horror. He assumed his stance as he'd been trained, taking up a guard position with his sword trained toward her.

"Mirella the Malevolent, Hexen-blood of The Forest, I demand that you be held to justice--"

"Mirella the Malevolent?" she chortled. "Whoa, that's so lame. The villagers a hundred years ago came up with nicknames that were like, way cooler than that. That's very average. Also," her eyes flicked down to his weapon.

"That sword isn't very big," she said meaningfully.

"It's--you--" he spluttered. Never in all his days at the academy did they prepare him for this.

Mirella arched an eyebrow, tilting her hips in a way that made him feel even more powerless.

"This sword was issued to me by the Holy Order of The Sun - and it's normal size, Witch!" he roared.

With one slick motion, he swiped his sword across the ignition plate set into his belt. The blessed oil on his blade ignited. He smirked confidently as the familiar roar of the flaming blade popped and crackled as he twirled it in the air.

"With steel, with the fire of the sun!" he shouted, feeling more powerful than ever.

"For the glory of the Order and the Gods--"

Thwack.

With a lazy flick of her hand, a slick of mud sprang from the earth and doused the flames of his blade. His heart dropped into his shoes as she laughed mischievously.

"You know, that actually sounded kinda cool. Top-notch delivery, it's been about a century since a Slayer managed to see through my concealment spell, but he did do a way better job before I killed him."

Evric's stomach lurched as she giggled again - but there was something else, something deep inside him...

"Listen, this was fun. I'm going to boil the kettle - did you want some tea?"

Mirella beckoned him in, leaving the door open. She moved gracefully and sensually; she knew she was being watched. He stood frozen at the fence, desperately trying to consider what to do next. She stuck her head back out.

"You coming? Look, this is obviously your first time. Usually the whole "magic-on-sword duel" thing doesn't happen till after later. Tradition calls for a tea ritual first."

Evric's heart was racing. This wasn't going at all like he expected; it was all so strange. Scowling at her, he bent to wipe his sword against the grass.

"That's a good boy. You're not really like the other Witch-Hunter's I've met," she mused as he inched cautiously through the door.

"Slayers," he corrected - as though it mattered.

"Hmmm?"

"Witch-Slayers. Common mistake, people get Dragon-Hunters confused with Witch-Slayers. Call them Witch-Hunters, or Dragon-Slayers. It's actually kind of -"

Evric caught himself - and wondered if she hadn't already somehow cast a spell on him.

"I won't fall for your charms, hag. You will stop this magic immediately."

"So you find me charming, Slayer?" she teased.

She swiped a gentle hand across the teapot, a small fire crackling to life beneath it.

He felt his face grow hot and flustered again.

"No- Er, y-you... you obviously..."

Laughing, she leaned forward a little in the chair she had sat in. She wore a low-cut dress, and the action brought her cleavage into his plain view. He stared helplessly.

"You cannot tempt me, Witch. Stop these tricks."

"Tricks?" she gasped in mock offense. "They're called boobs, hero."

He blushed furiously.

"In terms of my magic, I'm doing nothing to you... for now," she winked mischievously, making him blush even more.

The kettle began to emit a low whistle, growing shrill with each second. He watched her get up, but risked a peek around at the cottage.

His jaw dropped.

The cottage was enormous inside - filled with ticking, whirring, smoking and puffing machinery. Books, bottles, tinctures and tins littered the numerous shelves that lined the walls. A small black cat with enormous green eyes looked at him warily - and then phased across the room to a leather couch in a puff of pink smoke.

Doors, trapdoors and ladders all lead off in different directions.

"Here," she said, making him jump with a start.

Evric wheeled around, his sword still in his hand. She clicked her fingers, and it disappeared back into its hilt.

"Careful where you swing that thing, Slayer - you don't wanna scare a girl," she teased.

Scowling, he looked at the teacup she was offering him.

"Take it," she pressed gently.

Evric took the cup, narrowing his eyes as she sauntered to the table and took a seat.

"Poison," he spat accusingly.

"Poured from the same teapot I poured mine from," she replied.

"If you think I'm going to fall for -"

Mirella gulped down a mouthful and smacked her lips noisily, letting out a contented sigh. She watched him for a moment, sphinx like, then threw her hands up in theatrical exasperation.

"Aw, come on. How's a girl meant to have an evening duel with a Witch-Slayer these days if they're not going to follow the tea ceremony ritual?"

"I've never heard of any tea ceremony, Witch."

Her voice was theatrical, melodramatic.

"Yeah, but your dusty old instructors taught you the old fire and steel - "Behold my flaming sword, Witch, be very afraid" - thing, and I bet they taught you that old protection spell?"

Evric's eyes darted down to his chalked-up hands, and she pulled a face, snorting with laughter. He didn't like how stupid he felt, but if anything was becoming clear, it was that he was out of his depth. He had expected to arrive, announce himself, fight the bad guys and leave the winner. His best bet, he thought, was to escape... but how?

"Your tea is getting cold, Hero. Don't want to be rude to a girl before you slay her dead, right?"

Cautiously, he lifted the cup to his lips and took in the pleasant aroma. It was a strong, alluring kind of sweet-smelling liquid. He could feel the heat on his face and took a quick taste. Nothing.

"See? Nothing up my sleeves, Witch-Slayer," she crooned.

Evric sat at the table, a little defeated. She scooted her chair in, leaning on her elbows.

"Naw, don't be too embarrassed, Hero. What they teach at the academy is usually all outdated horseshit anyway," she said.

He stared at the floor, feeling a little funny.

"Now, tell me," she continued, watching him as he took another sip.

"Do you think purple suits me? Or should I go with gold?"

Evric watched half-shocked and half-amazed as she closed her eyes in concentration and the streaks of purple in her hair shimmered and glowed into a brilliant gold.

He couldn't stop himself, it just kind of slipped out:

"Purple, definitely purple," he said in agreement. His eyes widened in disbelief as she laughed with glee.

"Okay, cool, so - good news is, tea wasn't really poisoned, but it definitely had a truth potion in it. Don't worry, it'll be okay," she said in a reassuring tone as his eyes widened in panic.

Evric tried to stand but she clicked her fingers again and thick, spriggy vines ensnared his wrists, ankles and waist to the chair.

"What in the Gods--"

"Don't leave just yet, Slayer. There's a good boy," she said, rising to her feet to stroke his face gently.

Mirella's hand was soft and smooth against his stubble. She gazed into his eyes, her expression serious.

"Listen, here's what I'm wondering. How did you see through my concealment spell? No man has been able to locate my cottage for a century, unless..."

Something dawned on her face, and she brought a hand to her mouth with a shocked giggle.

"Are you a virgin?"

"Yes, I am."

Evric's mouth spoke before he could stop it. He felt himself blush violently, trying to will his body and mind to break free.

"Oh, Gods. What a glorious day it is today. You're a cute one, too," she laughed, walking to one of the shelves.

Mirella read over some of the labels - then picked one. Crossing the room swiftly, she pinched his nose shut. She was surprisingly strong - and despite his best efforts to struggle against the vines, she squeezed a few drops of the potion to his lips.

"Shhhhhh, there's a good boy. Be a good boy for me," she whispered softly as he struggled to resist.

Evric felt a strange warmth spread from his lips to his face. It swept down through his body, and he felt a serene calm taking hold of him. She was studying him carefully, her eyes amused but intent.

As he relaxed into the chair, she snapped her fingers. The vines released him and he was no longer bound in place. She pulled up a chair, sitting on it backwards. She was sitting so close to him that he could smell her hair, her breath. It was intoxicating and he found himself wanting... more.

"Okay, Slayer. Let me see if I understand. You stumble through the forest, blind faith in the academy's ability to train you to kill a Witch. You find my cottage, and plod your way in, thinking... what? You'll kill me, and then...?"

"Well, I've always felt like no-one at the academy takes me seriously. Like the harder I try to prove myself, the more people just laugh. I've slain a few monsters, sure," he said, pointing to a few scars on his face and arms.

Evric's mind raced to catch up with what he even saying - and realised in horror that it was all the truth.

"But - a Witch," he breathed. "A Witch is a monster that would earn me the glory and respect I feel I deserve."

Mirella nodded slowly as she listened, saying nothing.

"And what makes you think you deserve glory, or respect, handsome? What are you, other than a pretty face with arms and a sword?"

A conflicted, pregnant pause.

"I don't know," he said - and he really didn't.

Mirella rolled her eyes, pulling away and putting her hands on her hips.

"Well, Witch-Slayer. I'm afraid to say this is the end of your story. It's going to be pretty humiliating, too. We'll see how much "glory" and "respect" you can take," she said, raising her fingers in air-quotes.

"See, Hexen-blood as I'm sure you still call us - our magic in in our blood. But there's another source of power that we can draw from, and that is sexual energy. The potion I gave you? It's called an Elixir of Wilful Submission. Watch and learn, handsome... Stand."

Evric stood, his legs obeying her before he'd even understood.

"Sit."

Evric dropped back into the chair.

"Take the knife from the table and plunge it into your eye."

Evric's stomach lurched, desperately trying to squeeze his eyes shut in utter panic. If he couldn't see the knife, then... but it was no use.

She laughed, a gentle, playful sound.

"You'll obey my every command - but only if your heart truly desires to do so. Crazy, huh? You might be wondering - what use is that?"

Evric tried to reach for his sword, but nothing happened. It was as though his body just refused to reply.

"See, the humiliating part is everything you do from here on out - no matter how passionately you deny it, no matter what your training says, no matter what you say - you and I will both know that you wanted to," she purred.

Dread tickled up his spine - but so did something else. He tried to turn away from it, but with his body unresponsive there was nowhere to hide. Some part of him - some deep, buried skerrick of his psyche - wanted this to continue.

"Let's see, let's start with something simple..." she pondered.

Her eyes drifted down his body curiously.

"Lose the shoes and belt," she said.

Evric's thumbs, sure and confident, flicked open the belt and slid it smoothly out of the loops of his pants. It was as though his body was driven by something within him - not his mind, but something beneath it. Something smooth, certain and natural. He kicked his boots off, sending them thudding on the wooden floor.

She gave a slow nod of satisfaction.

"Now ditch the armour and the shirt, Slayer."

Unfastening the partial armour plate from his chest, his eyes never left hers as it clanged to the ground. He grabbed at his shirt with both hands, hoisting it over his head and flicking it to the side.

Mirella's eyes widened slightly, and her nostrils flared as her gaze flicked down to his lean, muscular body. Her lips parted softly as she took his physique in, weighing him up. She cocked her head, smiling mischievously.

"Real nice, Witch-Slayer. The academy is obviously upping the training these days," she said, fanning herself in mock overwhelm.

He couldn't help but notice however the touch-starved way her gold-brown eyes traced over the rounded curves of his shoulders, the ripple of his abs, and the large, strong planes of his chest. She cast an appreciative eye over his arms.

"Real nice," she repeated. She cleared her throat.

"Okay, lose the pants now. Let's see what we're working with," she smirked.

Evric struggled. He fought with every ounce of willpower he had within him, drawing on his deepest reserves - praying to the Gods. He failed. Mirella grinned as he dropped his pants, revealing his toned legs and manhood.

"Look at you go, so obedient. What a good boy."

With a soft swish she dropped her dress to the floor, revealing a stiff corset overflowing with cleavage. Horrified and confused, he felt his cock begin to twitch and harden. She noticed this, too.

"No magic there," she giggled. "You're a grower, I see."

Mirella knelt in front of him, looking up at his eyes. There was a hunger in her eyes now as she gently stroked his thigh, giggling again as she looked back down - and her eyes bulged.

"Whoa," she croaked.

Evric was almost fully erect, now - his stiff shaft's rapid engorgement making his body tingle with arousal. She leaned closer, captivated.

"That's... impressive. No, that's... huge!" she exclaimed, poking it playfully. His cock bounced up and down comically. Her playful touch alone made his body scream in desire.

"Where's this been the last hundred years?" she said, a sultry smile crossing her face.

Evric's mind was racing with thoughts of the heat and smell of her body, the softness of her hair. He had never been with a woman before - spending years meditating and training at the academy. This was not how he'd ever pictured his first time - but deep within him, he knew what was about to happen.

Mirella wrapped her hand around the base of him, the soft heat of her skin causing electricity to surge across his skin.

Measuring his length and girth in hand-spans, she placed her palm on her navel as though to measure how he'd fit - and let out a soft whistle. If Evric had even a single ounce of control over his faculties and body left, he'd have fainted.

Mirella gently stroked at him, her face questioning and curious as she looked up at his eyes.

"What are we thinking, Slayer? You've been such a good boy."

"I want you to put it in your mouth."

The words came tumbling out him before he could stop them. She raised her eyebrows, chuckling softly.

"That thing? I'd be surprised if I could even open my mouth that wide. Besides, Slayer, ladies first. Aren't knights meant to be gallant?"

"I'd be excited to put my mouth anywhere on you," he blurted.

With every embarrassing, traitorous utterance - the more his face blushed.

"Nawww, how sweet," she giggled.

Mirella clicked her fingers, her clothing disappearing in a soft swirl of smoke. She stood bare in front of him, running her hands down her body seductively. She gave him a little turn, bouncing up and down with a giggle.

"What do you think, Slayer?"

"I think... your curves aren't bad."

"Huh?" she stopped, a little taken aback.

She had been expecting something a little more heated, something to stroke her ego.

"I mean, your hips could be a bit wider. More rounded. The dimples above your hips could be a bit deeper. They're cute, but almost too subtle. You have potential to be far more striking."

The words tumbled out of him, the truth serum loosening his tongue to a fault.

Her eyes appraised him with curiosity, and then she threw her head back and laughed.

"Oh, Gods, that was funny. Room for improvement, huh? Maybe beauty standards have changed since I was last among mortals."

Mirella crossed the room slowly, looking him up and down like a piece of meat. Finally, she reached him, sighing. Her chest rose and fell with a delectable wobble.

"Okay, then. Here you go."

A look of concentration crossed her face and she closed her eyes to focus. The air around her seemed to shimmer like a heatwave - and then she began to change.

Evric's heart skipped a beat as her breasts jiggled and filled out, spilling out from her until they reached the size of cannonballs. She moaned softly as they grew, biting her lip to contain herself. Her boobs reached their new size with a soft wobble, and she took a moment before opening her eyes.

"Mmmm. I forgot how good that feels," she purred, running her hands over her bountiful breasts and giving them a firm squeeze.

"Okay, what else did you say? My hips?"

Mirella turned, giving him a view of her hips and shaking them in front of his cock playfully.

"Okay, well, we can't leave anything lacking..."

The shimmer returned, and just as before, she moaned as her hips began to expand. Slowly at first, the curve of her waist grew steeper as her hips thickened, a small crease appearing above her toned thighs.

The expansion slowed, her butt stretching to accommodate for the extra width - and then that began to grow as well. The cheeks of her ass jiggled slightly as they slowly blew up to the size of melons, their fullness making his dick twitch with desire. Her whole body seemed to creak and stretch like rubber.

The dimples above her ass deepened and amplified, showing off the curvature of her back - and she gave her booty a little shake as she giggled. She looked back at him.

"What do you think?"

"I'm... enjoying this more than you seem to know. I'm excited to please you, even if I can't control myself. I want to have you."

This was the second time his answer appeared to throw her for a loop, and she stood dazed for a moment. Her eyes travelled back down to his cock, which jutted out from him like the spire of a castle tower.

Mirella's voice was a husky whisper.

"Why don't you lie down, hero? Be a good boy for me."

Mirella snapped her fingers. A fireplace roared to life nearby as a soft, thick rug of furs popped into existence beneath him. He laid down. It was comfortable and soft, and the delightful crackle of the fire roaring set his body at ease despite the hurricane of conflict within him.

"There's my good boy. Try to relax."

She straddled his stomach, facing away from him.

"Look at this ass," she commanded.

He craned his neck up. It looked enormous from here as she gave a little wiggle. As he felt her against the skin of his taut stomach, he realised her pussy was dripping with anticipation.

"I am going to drop all of this on your face, and you are going to worship my new curves, Slayer," she said playfully, inching up onto his chest.

The aroma of her body was like a bathing perfume - rich, thick and opulent.

"Any last words?" she asked, stopping her ass just inches from his face.

"No. I just want you to sit," he replied.

Evric couldn't have seen the flash of arousal cross her face - but for a split second, she questioned who might be enjoying themselves more.

It didn't matter. She sat slowly, the ample flesh of her posterior covering his face as her pussy squashed down against his lips.

"Use your tongue, Witch-Slayer. Lick my pussy and kiss all this ass, and I might even think about taking care of that delicious-looking cock of yours," she moaned.

"Mmmmmfff," his muffled moan came in reply from beneath her.

The vibration of his voice against her took Mirella past the point of control, and she reached down to finger her clitoris. It had been such a long time.

His tongue lashed against her perfectly smooth pussy, savouring her taste. He teased across her clit before plunging into her softness. She moaned in ecstasy and began to grind her hips, reaching back to pull him up further into her ass.

The moaning became a primal growl as she came closer to satisfaction.

"Spank my ass, Slayer. Try to fight back a little bit."

Evric began to squirm helplessly beneath her, which brought her immense pleasure. He caressed her lightly, tracing his fingertips across her before spanking her booty sharply. It caused her butt to ripple on his face. He pressed his face deeper up into her - pushing her forward. She gasped, holding on for dear life, clutching at his waist.

Her eyes rolled back as pleasure echoed through her being, making her hair stand on end. Arching her back, she sat up tall, tossing her hair, cupping her breasts and playing with her clitoris. Waves of pleasure and anticipation shivered up her spine, and walking her hands down his body, she lowered her lips to his cock - and began to kiss.

Evric moaned in pleasure, a muffled tortured sound. He writhed and gave half-hearted squirms beneath her, but they only added to her pleasure. Soon they were both writhing against each other, moaning and gasping. They fell into a rhythm together as she rode his face, kissing and teasing his cock with her mouth. Just as she was slowly rolling the tip of her tongue along the sensitive underside of his shaft - she felt it.

"Oh, fuckkk. Ooooooooh. Right there," she grunted.

"Don't you dare stop Slayer. Keep going until you feel me cum on your face," she commanded, lifting herself up to spread her ass and sit down with her full weight. He sank deeper into her.

His tongue flicked and rolled against her - and suddenly, the dam burst. She convulsed, grabbing at his hair to pull him closer. His moans betrayed an enjoyment paralleled by hers, the warbled friction of his muffled cry against her skin only intensifying her orgasm.

Frenzied, she crawled off him, panting and desperate.

"G-good job, Slayer. Now come here. Crawl to me." she ordered. She got on all fours, lifting her ass in the air in front of him.

His legs and hands crawled forward on their own accord, his eyes staring at the way the soft warmth of the fire light danced across her smooth butt.

"Take me from behind," she growled. "I want to cum on that cock."

Evric wasn't sure anymore whether he was being controlled by the elixir of wilful submission, or if he was driven by something carnal within him. He had never felt more utterly out of control, and he loved it.

He spanked her ass sharply, taking the thick shaft of his cock in his hand - and gazing at her as she looked back, he pressed the head of his cock against her.

Mirella winced.

"Slow, slow, slow," she whispered. She bowed her head as he entered her - the gentle resistance of her pussy shifting around him, yielding to his thickness.

It was tight, but so wet and inviting. Slowly, he inched himself inside as she rubbed at herself, 'ooh'ing and 'aah'ing with each bit of progress.

"All the way in," she coaxed. "Please... I... I feel so full."

Evric pushed. She moaned, gripping at the furs beneath her. He took her waist in both hands, starting to thrust.

"Fuck," she panted. "Oh, fuck... harder!"

Evric followed as she commanded, relishing in the smacking sound of his hips as he thrust against her ass. The bounce of her jiggling ass against him only emboldened his body more, reaching around with one of his strong, rough hands - and began to blast his fingertip across her clit.

Mirella's eyes widened.

"Oh-My-Gods," she cried. "I'm going to cum, slayer, I'm going to - just like that!"

Mirella was screaming with an anguished, aching pleasure that begged for more of him - and he was all too happy to oblige. She felt like she was made for him - and some deep, buried part of her hated that he felt made for her. Filling her completely, touching against her walls with a throbbing intensity that scratched an itch left unsatiated for centuries.

He felt her tighten and braced himself - thrusting harder and faster relentlessly.

"I'm - cumming - aaahhh!"

Mirella froze, her body twitching in pleasure as her pussy gripped and spasmed around his girth. Crackling humming magical energy shimmered around them, her mind enveloping them both in a surge of orgasmic, incomprehensible power.

He pressed himself firmly into her, letting her enjoy the rolling waves of pleasure and electricity as they ran their course. Slowly, he withdrew. She moaned in pleasure as he left her. She fell to her side, shutting her eyes and savouring the satisfaction. Running her hands against her delicate skin, she cooed in relief.

"Gods, Slayer. That was... I mean, you were.."

Mirella seemed to look up at him... differently. She scrunched her nose, shaking it off, and made her decision.

"Stand, slayer. That elixir might wane soon, and I don't want you running away unpaid."

It was true - even as she spoke, he could feel some of the will returning to connect his body and mind, almost as though he may be able to wriggle out of some kind of trance.

As he rose, she snapped her fingers again. The snaring tendrils whipped out of the floor, restraining him in place. He thought he felt he could almost struggle against them - but he didn't want to.

"It's a funny thing, sex," she reflected. "For most witches, it empowers their magic further. Every orgasm, every drop of seed... it takes our power to new heights. I'm going to enjoy absorbing your strength, Slayer. It's almost a waste."

She crossed the floor, her eyes seductively boring into his - and tripped on a bucket.

It clattered loudly across the floor as she caught herself, looking back at the culprit. She turned back to him - and laughed uproariously.

"That'll teach me for making speeches mid-fuck," she chortled.

In the corner of his eye, Evric watched the bucket roll to a stop, nudging one of the shelves.

A haphazardly stacked set of bottles wobbled. One of them gently tipped against another. It rolled to the side, upending itself into another container of powder. The powder mixed with the liquid, immediately fizzing and beginning to smoke.

'This might be the distraction I've been waiting for,' Evric thought, 'But do I want this to stop?'

She dropped to her knees in front of him, opening her mouth. She stuck her tongue out, cupping her huge breasts and squashing them together.

"Cum for me, Slayer. Cum in my mouth."

He felt his hand reach down - but it was weak, half-hearted.

Behind her, the mixture in the container began to really smoke, a blue storm cloud forming above it. It began to circle in a silent wispy tendril to the ground like water draining from a bathtub.

Stroking, he tried to focus.

'If I time this just right, I might be able to escape...' he thought.

He was getting closer.

"That's good, come on," she sang sweetly. "You're such a good boy. Cum for me."

Mirella gave her breasts a tantalising bounce and it carried him over the edge.

He let out a guttural, primal growl - and erupted. Warm cum burst from him, covering her face in dribs and drabs - in her mouth, on her cheeks and lips. She gasped at his volume, licking her lips and tasting him.

"Mmm," she moaned.

She lowered her lips to the tip and sucked.

Behind her, Evric watched as the smoking cloud grew even bigger - and from it's depths, a shadow emerged.

The shadow took a humanoid form as it stepped forth from the swirling smoke - and from deep in its face, glowing eyes like coals lit up.

Evric tilted himself to the tips of his toes as control began to return to his body. Mirella had seemed to lose herself, drunk on his cock and the cum that she drawn out of him.

"I... need... a second..." she said slowly, slurring her words. She sat heavily, looking up at him in wonder. The shadowy figure padded stealthily across the floor now, stalking up to her.

Evric felt his will returning, like pins and needles returning feeling to a phantom limb. He needed to act quickly. His mind racing, he decided.

"Mirella! Get down!"

It was too late. She turned sleepily to look - and it swiped at her. She let out a cry as the powerful demon's strike battered her sideways, skidding across the floor.

She tried to stand shakily, still intoxicated from the power surge of Evric's seed.

Mirella lifted a hand to cast at the demon - and it struck again, overpowering her and grabbing at her throat. It lifted her off the ground in a merciless strangle, its eyes narrowing --

Evric's sword sank deep through the body of the shadow, and it howled in agony. A wet, strangled gurgle burst from its lips as it fell to the ground at her feet. He released the sword from his grip as the shadow collapsed, taking his weapon with it.

"Slayer...?"

Mirella looked up at him from the floor.

"You... saved me. The demon... I couldn't..."

Evric picked up his sword, pointing it at her throat.

"Stay... stay back," he panted, unsteady on his feet.

Mirella narrowed her eyes at him, a scowl crossing her lips.

"Go on, then. Kill your witch, Slayer. Fulfill your destiny."

Evric dug deep, his training waging war with his desire. He pictured the glory, the gold, the bards singing of his strength and the women throwing themselves at his feet - but as he looked down into those gold-brown eyes, the delicate curves of her body...

The sword clattered to the floor as he ran to the door. As he ran outside he stole a look back.

Mirella sat naked on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. Her eyes vacant, a million miles away as she processed the sacrifice he had made.

The sound of his sprinting footsteps fell away into the night.