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Season of the Shit

Summary:

An extra spooky Halloween story about a young man named Tiven finds himself captured by a witch named Ezma. The sorceress has quite the appetite, and a very unusual way of disposing of her prey.

This story was done as a submission for the Ink and Quill group's Ink And Quill Writing Challenge #5 - "Halloween Spooks"

This story is incredibly weird and gross. If you find the content objectionable and still read it you have nobody but yourself to blame.

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"Wake up," came a woman's voice, harsh and impatient.

Tiven's mind was still hazy, but he was lucid enough to know that this wasn't his bedroom.

"Where am I?" he finally managed to stammer out of a dry, wheezing mouth.

"That should be the least of your concerns," she continued. As Tiven's vision returned, he was greeted with the sharpening outline of a tall, pale woman whose mere presence was powerful and unsettling. Her name was Ezma. She was a witch, and she was hungry.

In terms of witchiness all she was missing was the hat. She was a gorgeous woman instead of a hideous old crone, but that certainly wasn't unheard of when it came to female practitioners of the dark arts. Her features were sharp and well-defined, with a distinctive dark beauty mark on her otherwise pale cheek. Her hair was white, neat, and fell to just below her shoulders. In any other circumstance, she was the sort of woman that Tiven would find himself instantly infatuated with.

She had almost the textbook example of an hourglass figure, which her clingy black dress did a good job of hugging and highlighting. That wasn't all that the skintight witch's grown outlined though. There was a distinct bulge protruding from her waist, as though she were wearing an extremely bulky undergarment. Further examination would reveal that this was exactly the case, and furthermore that it was unmistakably a diaper which lurked beneath her sultry dress. If the distinct bulge it created in the fabric wasn't enough evidence, the distinctive crinkle she produced as she swayed her hips deliberately with each step was more than enough to confirm those suspicions.

There still remained the question of why the witch would wear a piece of clothing so...well, to call it unusual would be a drastic understatement. Tiven had some suspicions about how her diaper was to be used, ones that he dared not dwell on for the terrifying implications they had on their potential fate. He didn't know much about witches, but he knew enough to know that his captor was certainly one, and the sorts of things they tended to do with their victims. With any luck, Tiven would be able to escape before he'd have to discover the padding's purpose.

That would be easier said than done however. Tiven was restrained in place, not by conventional ropes or chains which could conceivably be picked, cut, or broken. No, these bindings were magical in nature, and far beyond his ability to escape. Then again, regular rope would've probably been more than the scrawny blond could handle as well. Still, he struggled and writhed against his bindings all the same, a chilling preview of what he would find himself doing in an even more terrifying, restricting space in a matter of mere minutes.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to go wandering into the woods at night?" she said. Her tone was cruel and teasing, of course, but there was some indication that she might've been genuinely exasperated by his foolishness.

Tiven remained silent. Truthfully, if he hadn't needed to empty his bladder after a long night at the tavern, he would've never made the mistake of stumbling into the forest like that. His desperation and drunkenness had caused him to make a stupid decision, one that was seeming more and more like it could cost him his life.