The Bitch and the Hound

A witch's spell

It smelled like sage. The only sound was the rhythmic dripping and bubbling of hot, oddly colored liquids in tall glass bottles. The walls were sweating with humidity and lined with shelves. The vines of dark green plants spilled out over them and hid large jars of small animals floating in an unsettling state of suspension. Neither dead nor necessarily alive.
His shoulder blades were rubbed raw in the struggle against the rough wood. His wrists were gently bruised by leather bindings.
Sweat ran down his tan skin with the rise and fall of his panting chest. One unruly lock of black hair curls into his eye.
His jaw clenched and unclenched. There was little else he could do.
I imagine he was trying to estimate how much time had passed. It had been hours but he didn't know that.
I ground the blood red berries into a thick paste. I dipped a finger and touched it to my lips. It was bitter.
"Perfect..."
I tied my long brown hair back with a ribbon. Smoothed the wrinkles from my skirt and hiked up my corset, breasts jiggling in the act.
I gave the heavy door a shove and stepped softly into the room. His eyes were a little wild. He snarled as I stepped closer. I let him look at me. I wanted him to see me. I think he felt indignant. To know his captor was the small framed girl with the sweet face. That I was clothed and he was stark naked.
I tugged at the cord of my corset and let it fall with my skirt to the floor. My nipples hardened in the cool air. The smooth curves of my body felt flat and boyish under his gaze.
I owed him nothing. these trivial, childish insecurities were pointless. Yet I wanted him to want me.
The warm glow of dancing candle flames kissed my bare skin. I climbed onto the table. Straddling his stomach.
With slow and methodical fingertips I painted his chest with the red of the berries. Tracing symbols from books passed down thousands of years. Books with brittle pages and warn leather covers.
I felt the pool of hot slick forming between my legs. Dripping down his sides.
I removed the cloth from his mouth and heard him snarl.
"What's your name?" My voice was shy and whispery. I would have preferred not to sound so pathetic in a moment like this but my words fell out breathless and airy.
"Get off" his voice was low and grumbly.
"This'll go faster if you participate..." I huffed.
He shook his head slowly then dropped it hard against the table in frustration.
"Bitch"
"Fine!" I snapped.
I pressed my palms against his chest. Rolling my hips. His cock growing hard pressed between his stomach and my wet cunt.
   I shivered and gasped as he hardened, digging my nails into his skin. My chest bounced. I pressed myself against him, red paint smeared on my breasts. I grabbed his hair and lifted his head.
"Now stop being difficult and suck" he took my nipple between his full lips and licked gently.
"Oh.... fuck," I breathed.
He sucked and licked until my thighs quivered. Then with care bit the sensitive skin.
I sat up. His eyes were almost black now with the effects of the spell. His urge to fight me had turned into a need to please me. It had worked.
"Emilio." His reply was husky and drawn out.
I smiled. Giving his cock a few slow strokes just to tease him, I sunk down. Taking all of him, I winced. It pressed so deep inside me I shook. It was fulfilling my need to feel full but fuck it was more than I'd been ready for.
When I was ready I start to move up and down. Ass jiggling when it slapped down against the tops of his thighs. He groaned and strained.
"Mmmmmmm!" Tits bouncing, covered in red paint and taking this stranger's cock I had nothing left to be ashamed of. I threw my head back and cried.
My pussy squirted everywhere and my cheeks flushed red. He looked so pleased.
I kept rolling my hips. Panting heavily.
He groaned louder and louder. His eyes closed and he trembled with the pleasure of my tight cunt squeezing around him.
When he came my tummy swelled up round and full. I collapsed onto his chest and regained my composure. The hormones were taking me on a roller coaster of emotions.
I picked my head up and kissed him, deeply.
My pink clit and soft folds were smeared with his cum.
"You're going to clean up this mess you've made."
I lifted myself up and straddled his face. He licked me softly and sucked my clit. Taking his time to unravel me. Pushing his tongue deep inside and eventually I screamed. My thighs shook and I tensed. Cum spilling out over his chin.
When the exhaustion overtook him I slowly untied his wrists and ankles. I would leave him in the meadow outside of town and let him wander back naked and confused. Let him always wonder where that witch had taken him and how he could possibly find his way back to me.
   I could already feel myself growing stronger from the power that I stole from him. I smiled to myself.
"Next time he'll be lucky if he lives..."