*As the name suggests, this is my second submission to Literotica. My first one had some definite weaknesses. This one should be a bit of an improvement, I hope. Please apply all the usual, appropriate disclaimers. Not my world. Not my intellectual property. Not my circus or my monkeys. Everyone is over 18. You have the right to an attorney, etc. This is a fan expressing love and admiration.*
Crow's Perch had a new Baron.
His courage and strength had made him a favourite of the nobility and the peasantry alike.
He was young and handsome in a rugged, even slightly weathered, kind of way.
He was tall and strong. Standing, he was as big as any knight of Toussaint, powerfully built while carefully gentle with the people around him, quickly putting even the most timid at their ease in his presence.
He was a man of honour. Soldiers on both sides of the recent conflict with Nilfgaard would attest to his courage, his fairness, his sense of justice and his willingness to keep his word, regardless of the personal cost.
He was true of heart. He shared a love, deep and true, with the fair maiden, Charlotte, who would be his bride on the first day of Summer and he would love her for the rest of their lives together.
And yet...
Baron Talus Hammir was slow to wake and was still abed mid-morning. With all those virtues, it would be reasonable to assume that a propensity to sleep in was, perhaps, his one vice.
Anyone making that assumption would be wrong.
Talus was sleeping deeply throughout the morning because he had not slept at all during the night. The virtuous, honest husband-to-be was awake until the sun came up and barely managed to stumble into his chambers and collapse into a deep slumber.
He had been rutting like a wild beast with and insanely attractive young woman who was not his lady love; but was instead, a completely insatiable nymphomaniac. The most distressing thing about all that is that only roughly half of the details were true.
She was a completely insatiable nymphomaniac.
She was insanely attractive.
And he had rutted with her wildly, for hours.
...However...
She was not his lady love.
Penni knew he was to be married and knew he loved his intended bride more than life itself and was positively giddy when she drugged, seduced and then literally enchanted him.
She was not young.
She definitely looked young, but she was more or less immortal, and had lived for hundreds, perhaps even thousands of years. One of the perks of the raw magical power she had harnessed long ago.
She was not a woman.
In a purely physical sense, she was most definitely a woman, but she was also a supernatural being, somewhere close to the power of a demigod (Though currently she was convalescing and rebuilding her power).
'Penni' was actually Penelope, the Weavess.
The Weavess was one-third of the triumvirate coven of diabolical crones, widely known as 'The Ladies of the Wood' and she was the last. At least for now.
Her sisters had been killed just a few weeks ago in a battle against the Butcher of Blaviken. Slain by Princess Cirilla of Cintra and her guardian Geralt of Rivia, and a faithful cohort of warriors, sorceresses and, for some reason, a bard who was making a killing with the songs he had hurriedly composed about their epic adventure.
As he awoke, parts of his mind insisted that the night of raw sex was just a night of fitful dreams caused by drinking too much or eating something he should not have. Since the thing that should not have eaten was Penni's tight, bald pussy (which he feasted on until she screamed and came, bucking as she writhed and rode his face while he gulped her juices desperately), it was technically true.
Once that thought rolled through his mind, he could almost taste her all over again and, despite himself, he felt a stirring in his loins.
Talus sat up on the edge of his bed and was relieved when he saw that she was not laid out beside him. Guilt and self-loathing rushed into him. Shame and even a degree of horror rounding out his impression of the night he now knew was no dream.
She had tricked him into imbibing a powerful venom that worked on him as an aphrodisiac, breaking down his inhibitions and exciting his body.
She had stolen his blood and some of his beloved Charlotte's hair, a love token he had received from her less than an hour earlier.
While he worked gallantly, despite the effect she had created within him, Penni used what she had stolen to weave magics that gave her power over Charlotte's perceptions. Magics that linked Penni to Talus.
And then she fucked him like he had never experienced before.
Something about him. Something in him was the key to bringing her sisters back and helping them survive and thrive in a world where their old, unspeakable ways would have them hunted down and killed by Cirilla and her friends.
She was abandoning her hideous crone form and insinuating herself into his life (and pants, he mused), using his body for her needs.
Talus considered all of this as the morning slipped away and by noon he was dressed, shaved and washed. He could feel where her feminine talons had scored her pleasure into his back. Where her mouth had punished and worshipped him for hours.
None of it showed. Not a scratch, not a bitemark.
He would go to the chapel to pray and ready himself for what came next.
Confessing to Charlotte.
She would forgive him. It would break her heart and wound her soul, but she would. Knowing that made him hate himself even more. Even the drugs and magic she had used on him did little to mitigate the way he felt.
He was a betrayer.
He had no idea what he would do if he came across Penni again.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Weavess slipped away to her new lair before the sunrise and while she did not bother with sleep, she stretched out on the floor of the hidden cave as waves of euphoria washed over her.
In the earliest days of their existence, she and her sisters had indulged in the pleasures of the flesh with a single-minded intensity. They had experimented sexually in every way known to mortal being for centuries.
Over time, their magic grew darker and they pushed past sins of the flesh into true evil. They became embodiments of evil, true, monstrous evil.
To the people of Velen, they became goddesses, worshipped out of fear. Crooked-back Bog became a slimy altar upon which the people offered up their beloved children.
Every one of them suffered a nightmarish end once delivered up to the Crones.
For thousands of years, their Crone personas were handed dominion over the land and everything that dwelled there.
And then the three of them had faced a stripling girl, in their most special place of power.
And she decimated them. Cirilla, the lion-cub of Cintra shattered her family and crushed the Wild Hunt. To the crones, the Wild Hunt were the Unseelie Court, an ancient name known to but a few. Besides, the sisters never rode with them, instead engaging with them on nights of power when they could all indulge their twisted urges. They were never with them for the hunt, but were always present when the ruthless elves held court.
The Weavess, now known as Penelope (by those who didn't matter, and by Penni by the only one who did), knew in the depths of her twisted soul, that her survival was a stroke of luck that she did not deserve.
The Weavess watched the literal forces of evil, HER forces, defeated and cast down from their seemingly unassailable heights of power.
The darkest and most raw evil had been crushed in one night. That same night, Penni had tasted the slightest taste of power. Power on a completely different level.
It was a revelation.
It was also humbling for a being that had outlived empires. It was in this humbled state that the Weavess had an epiphany.
The Weavess realized that the truly dark and twisted nature she and her sisters had adopted was completely unsustainable. Worse, it made them stand out.
No one stood unchallenged forever.
She realized that it was time to abandon the horrendous excesses and the hideous form necessary to contain the abyssal magics and return to her human form. Penni was still a being of great power, and, like the great and ancient vampires, she could live for centuries more. She could pass unnoticed. At worst, people might think she was a sorceress.
She would draw power from the more socially acceptable evils.
From lust and sin and corruption and ruination of the innocent and the pure.
She was incredibly sexy, virtually irresistible, despite the darkness within.
Now, she had found a mortal man, someone truly special. His body, his soul and his seed were potent beyond anything she had ever come across.
