Gaius Versus the Witch

"What transpired there, Gaius?" He asked me this, as if it were a mere question of circumstance. In truth my answer would bring about more punishment upon me than if I were to lie outright to this simple watchman... Except that I knew this particular guard, and he was, in point of fact, a dear childhood friend of mine named Oswin.

"Would you believe the tale?" I had no doubt that he would as he always did. For my tales were true enough, if not a tad embellished and certainly biased towards my own recollection of the matters. For Oswin, my accounts more than farce stories woven by traveling merchants or lute brandishing minstrels. Oswin knew what I was a hunter. Not a hunter of game, although I did kill elk in the near by forests to sell in between jobs, but more directly, I was a hunter of the unnatural.

"It was a satyr, old friend," I spoke, leaning forward to put my elbows on the rough wood of the table in front of me. I could see in an instant a wonder brewing behind Oswin's watery eyes, "stubby little fuck he was, but strong as an ox. Had a farmer's daughter under each arm when I came upon him in the clearing north of town." I scratched at the growth of hair on my chin, the chains around my wrists clanked together reminding me of my bondage now.

"Fucking hell." Was all Oswin could afford, his mind grasped for understanding.

"Fucking hell is right," I laughed, "I stayed behind. Hidden among the pines, I watched him. He stopped in the center of the clearing, had a look around and dropped one of the poor lasses. She took a hoof to the head, knocked her clean out. I admit, it was hard not to rush in then, but, well I needed to be sure he wouldn't notice me." Which was true, my eye was trained on him, an arrow ready to be let loose, but satyrs have remarkable hearing, and I feared that should he hear the whistling of my arrow as it approached, he would flee. Or perhaps worse yet, he would use the other girl to absorb the shot.

"There was little for me to do, so I stalked towards him. Keeping the trees at my back, I rounded the clearing. I heard the girl shriek when he tore the dress from her. The beast had freed her of her garments in moments, and she was laid bare in the light. Flaxen hair and ample bosom, but I get ahead of myself," Oswin was invested now, and he leaned in to hear my story, "Once she was clear, I released my shot. It caught the monster in the shank and he turned to me, his pecker and a dagger both unsheathed."

Oswin let out a hearty laugh at this, "Imagine that must have been quite the shock!" He wiped away a tear, and I let his humor abate before I continued.

"Aye, it was. If I'm being true, it would have done more harm to the girl than the blade, but either way I charged towards him and he towards me. I had discarded my bow in favor of my sword, and with it readied I met this creature in combat. He made the first move, with a potent hop, he was able to bring both of his vile hooves up to my chest and compel me backwards. I stumbled and as I regained my footing he was upon me again, this time with his curved horns. He rammed me, expelling the breath from my lungs." I paused, deliberately, to pull aside my tunic. To Oswin's horror their was the imprint of hoof and horn on my left chest.

"Fuck me, that looks like it hurts. Be glad it wasn't his tackle, eh?" Oswin produced a flask from his belt and took a sip, handing it to me. I in turn took a gulp of his fiery whiskey and let its heat coat my pipes on its way down.

"It hurt, and I thought he had me then. Windless and doubled over he made for me again, now with his dagger. So, when he was near I swung up, blindly. I intended to clash steel, but alas, the wrong dagger met my sword. It bit into his flesh and separated his cock from his balls. In turn he dropped his blade, fell to his knees and I swiftly finished the job."

"Then why wasn't the poor bastard beside you when you were... found?" Oswin inquired through a wince of sympathetic pain for the unmanned beast. His round face was not showing the slightest ounce of doubt in my words and I knew that his question was to help me be free of this situation.

"Because when the search party arrived, they saw a man, armed with sword and bow, in a field with two naked maidens." I smirked.

"Hold on, you said one was naked, not both." Oswin said incredulously.

"I said the satyr tore the clothes off one of them, yes. The other took her dress off afterward. Satyr's have magics that they use and this one's had taken hold during the fight. I had two supple, able mouthed girls, freshly of age and unsullied by other men tending to their rescuer." The thought made my loins ache in remembrance.

The drugs of the satyr are potent aphrodisiacs made by nymphs. I understand that this sounds like fairytale tripe, but it is not. Regardless, I had both of them alone and hotter than a stew kettle for me. So once I checked on them, after slaying the beast, the already nude one proceeded to untie my pants, and withdraw my cock from them. Her sister, being slightly older, perhaps in her twentieth year, and of slighter frame, removed her garb and joined her sister.

I must say, I took great delight in seeing them both on their knees. The younger of the two, concentrated her efforts on my balls, her tongue sweeping back and forth across them. Time and again, placing one full ball in her mouth, and washing it clean, then popping it out again, trading it for the other. Her sister, started on my erect phallus, kissing my head. Every second placing more of it in her mouth. Magic powders or not, she had done this before, and her craft was superb. In no less than a minute the pair had my entire loins gleaming with saliva.

They ministered themselves and each other as well. Their hands, those that were not aiding in their efforts on my pleasure, were busy fingering their mounds. Almost in unison they withdrew their fingers and went to explore each others openings. Their moans stifled by my organ filling their mouths. To my great relief, I had finished before discovery.

When I could handle no more, I grunted, and they both began to kiss over the tip of my erupting spear. I came across their cheeks and into their open mouths as they kissed one another. Their hands massaging my shrinking balls and stroking the seed from my throbbing cock. It was as the last bits of my essence were leaving me, that we were stumbled upon, and I wrongly accused of kidnap.

"I applaud your ability to conquer both foe and wench in the same go, friend. However, the girls aren't saying tale of satyrs and love magics. They say only that you happened upon them in the field and that they were compelled to sample your wares, so to speak." Oswin seemed genuinely crest fallen that he could do no more to help me. Though the solution seemed simple enough to me.

"Take me to the clearing and I will show you." I replied in earnest, and he consented to do so though in reality he had one hell of a go at it until I was allowed to be taken from my cramped cell. Nearly a day and a half it took, before Oswin and three others from the watch were ordered to escort me to the scene of the battle to look for the satyr's carcass.

A rain had swept through that night, and the field was thick with mud. I struggled enough against the chains, bound at my wrists and ankles, both chains attached in the middle by another. The mud took the remaining grace from my step and I plodded to where the battle had taken place.

"I see no beast, Gaius." Growled one of the guards, a thin shit by the name of Byron. He obviously assumed me to be lying and found it distasteful that I had dragged everyone here to this mud pit. We searched for near on two hours until I was blessed with my answer. One of the other two guards, who's name I was unfamiliar with pulled something from the mud.

"Oy," he exclaimed, "look it, I got somethin'." Indeed he did. It was about a foot long and covered in muck. I recognized it immediately and roared with laughter, Oswin began to laugh aw well. Byron took it from the other guards and examined it, placing it right up to his face to get a good look at the thing. Of course this made Oswin and me laugh more, because what he was holding was the satyr's severed pecker.

Once Oswin calmed down, he explained to Byron what he was staring at so intently, and with a look of pure disgust he dropped the severed meat staff and the charges against me as well. That night, at the tavern, I was approached by the village priest for a special job.

"Gaius," he said, his withered frame coming into view beside me, "I have a task for you, son." I was busy watching the buxom barmaid pour out flagons of ale from the barrel. Her tits were pressed between her arms, nearly popping them from her shoulder-less blouse. Her thick frame and wide hips begging to be ravished. Or maybe I had those sisters on my mind still. regardless, I peeled my eyes from the wench's glorious cleavage to speak to father Eurich.

"Aye, Father, what can I do for you?" I took a sip from my mug, the foam congealed on my mustache and I wiped it away quickly.

"There's tale of a witch south of here." It was all he really needed to say, but I let him continue, "shepherds are reporting sheep missing in the glen. There's a cave they've been telling about too, foul smells and the like. One even reported seeing a cloaked figure at night." It wasn't much to go on, but he and I knew how to read between the lines. It was simple logic for us, missing livestock and caves. Foul smells and shadows at night...it was a witch.

"Which cave?" I asked between drinks.

"Yes, I believe so." He responded, wrinkling his liver spotted eyebrows at me.

"No, you daft old man," I laughed, "which, where is the cave." I clarified and recognition of his folly appeared upon his face in the form of a toothless smile.

"Of course, it's the one near the Maxton farm. Big, old oak growing on the ridge above it." he said patting my back, "I will leave it to you, son." He shuffled away after that, and I went back to staring down those delicious udders before me. I was quickly caught, and subsequently rewarded that night, after the tavern had closed up for the night.

The lovely barmaid had ushered me into the back room, where she told me to remove my clothes. I obliged, stripping away ,my cloak and belt, pants and tunic. I was naked as a jay bird, then she had me sit on the edge of a near by table. I rested my haunches on it, my cock eagerly awaiting whatever it was she had planned. She came back with a small ceramic jug.

"You seem to have a fondness for my breasts," She grinned, "so how's about they show you their appreciation for it?" She pulled down her blouse, and gravity took hold, her massive tits sprang forth and hung there heavily. she knelt before me looking up at me knowingly as she pulled the lid off of the jug. She tipped it over and oil poured out onto her chest. When she was satisfied with the amount she set the jug aside and used her hands to spread the oil over the surface of her glittering globes. Her milky white flesh became as polished marble as she rubbed. My cock grew rigid and achy for her to put it to work.

She took hold of it, and stroked. The oil coated my rod, allowing her hand to glide up and down with great sensation. Then she moved her tits into position, and pressed them together over me. The warmth of her slippery breasts covered my dick completely and she manipulated them in her hands, working them in different directions. They felt so soft over my girth, inviting yet with a heaviness that helped to maintain a good amount of pressure to the shaft of my rod.

When she was done teasing, she moved them in unison, pumping away against my cock with the slick noise of the oil echoing in the room. My knees were starting to tire from the strains of her pleasuring. We both grunted and moaned, aroused by what she was doing to me in this dingy back room. I became transfixed by the sight of my reddened head as it slipped in and out of view from between her tits. It drove me with unexpected speed to climax.

"Fuck!" Was all I managed to shout before I came. A thick string of semen hit her in the chin, and clung to her smiling face. The second hit her neck, and oozed back towards her bosom as it mingled with the oil. Shot after shot fired from me, each of them pooling into the union of her breasts, until she released her grip and my cock sprang out from between them. A rope of cum connected us briefly, but it separated and dangled from the underside of my cock. The sight before me was beautiful; she was smearing my seed across her bare chest, rubbing it into her skin. She then took a finger and retrieved what had hit her chin, and with relish, sucked it from her finger tip. Finally she turned her attention to what dangled from my half hard cock. She twirled the cream around her finger, winding it up the base of my member. She traced the underside of it with the back of her finger tip, and gathered all she could before depositing it into her mouth as well.

I slept rather soundly that night, and in the morning I made for the southern pastures. It had rained again that night, though not as hard and there was a chill to accompany the morning fog as I set out. I had all that I needed, gathered from my shop before I left. Sword, bow, arrows, and healing herbs were necessities, carried on every excursion. Since I would be dealing in witchcraft, I brought a warding charm to protect my body, a ring of wellness to protect my mind and soul, and blessed dagger and holy water because, well, its a witch.

I am unfamiliar with how some regions perceive witches, but I am well versed in the stories told around our village. Haggish, old women with sunken frames and pointed noses. Greenish decay on their flesh, warts and sores, usually toothless and smelling of manure. I can also say that from experience that this is incorrect.

Their skin is green, but after that the similarities end. Magic has many side effects, chief among them is mutation to the human form. An exact description of each known magic and it's effects is recorded in a very thick and dusty book back in town, but for the sake of argument and interest, witches are green.

It was nearly half past mid day when I arrived in the sprawling farmland of the south, but the heat seemed to have left the region. A fog was still lingering and I knew that this was one of the marks of witchery. I made for the cave straight away, having traveled the area on occasion, I knew where to go. I should at this point mention that of all the varying types of witches, few used animal sacrifice, and none among those were friendly, so I readied my bow. I said a prayer as the cave came into view. I prayed that this wasn't a blood witch, because if it were, I well and truly fucked.

Blood witches used sacrifice to gather blood. The blood they used as an all purpose agent. It could be used in potions, spread on the skin to enhance their prowess, put in jars and saved for curses, ointments and the like. Basically the blood was a conduit to channel their magic into a more potent form. In terms of my being at a loss, blood magic was hard to counter act or detect for that matter. I once saw a man inspect a spot of blood, only to have it explode with such force that it took the skin from his face. It had ended up being a carefully laid trap. A blood rune left behind to kill or injure any that came to close to tracking the witch down.

Either way, I had arrived now. The maw of the cave reeked of stink weed and onion grass. A potent stench, but not unexpected. I pressed onward inside. I saw no movement, heard no sounds but still I tread lightly into the cavern, squinting against the gloom. Then all at once there came a crack and then I felt the world slam into me.

I awoke later, my body felt like it had been crushed. My head swam, all sound came as if from under water. Only a blurred sense of vision was all I could force my eyes to muster. It was a hard fight to become aware of where I was, something soft was under me, a bed perhaps. The light was flickering and the chamber I was in had a warmth to it. I heard movement now and realized that I had been un armed and un armored. I was laying on my back, in nothing but my pants. I wasn't tied down, but I could barely move and my senses wouldn't permit me to if I could.

"Relax," came a voice, it was soft but with a tone of authority to it. "You had some fall."

"Where am I?" I stammered, fighting to make out my surroundings. The light was dim, but I was able to surmise that I was still inside the cave. The room, as it were, was set up like a living space. I was on a bed of hay covered in animal skins. The flickering light and heat came from a large cooking fire not far away. There were shelves of ingredients and potions and I found my clothes and gear piled neatly onto a table.

"You are in my home, in the back of the cave where you had your tumble." The source of the voice was a young woman. Her flesh was a pale green, smooth and firm. The high cheekbones of her face were painted with blue spirals that lead up and around to the corners of her yellow eyes. She smiled, her black lips parting to show a row of gleaming white teeth. Her face was framed with neck length hair, thick and colored like raven feathers. I followed the contours of her long neck with my eyes. Bare shoulders, and toned arms marked with the same blue painted swirls that were on her face.

Her modest, but well sculpted breasts were concealed behind a tight suede wrap. Her firm midsection was bare as were her legs. Only a leather and fur skirt concealed her sex. Barely. Her long legs were feminine but muscled, and she had spirals of blue that extended from the outsides of her thighs to the tops of her bare feet. She smelled sweetly of honey flower and her skin was warm. She brushed the hair from my eyes with the back of her hand, and pressed a cold cloth to my forehead.

"Why would you help me?" I asked fearful that her aid was a ruse to ensnare me.

"Why would I not?" She smiled back at me.

"Are you not a blood witch?" I was blunt in my questioning for I didn't want to extend my stay and become enthralled by her if she had evil in her heart. As it turned out, she was not a blood witch. She explained her situation to me more fully, and I knew her to be telling me the truth. She was an earth witch, good by nature and bound to help protect men and animal and plant alike. The sheep were not being killed by her, but as it turns out, by a rabid wolf in the area. Thus also explained the stink weed by the cave entrance, wolves had powerful noses and would be turned away from the cave. I still had my questions of course, but I was able to relax tremendously after she explained who she was.

"My name is Igred, I was sent by my coven to find the source of a great evil in this country. I set up my home here, and thought that this wolf would be as good a start as any." She had begun to rub the cloth over my chest, I caught her eyes peering at the hoof shaped bruise, and the myriad of older scars.

"True enough, then perhaps when I am well enough, I can be of assistance to you as payment." She paused at my offer, looking up at me with her moon colored eyes.

"We shall see, I may have use of you before that." Her words were cryptic, but her tone was not. Witch covens had no men, she was curious.

"Never seen a man, have you?" I played into it, "Go on, have a look then." I spread my arms from my sides, palms up. She gazed down, then back up, her eyes darting more mischievously over my exposed body. It didn't take long for her timid hand to give an exploratory squeeze between my legs. My moan startled her, and she let go quickly and turned her gaze to the floor. That was the end of it for the night.

The next evening I woke up to her rubbing an ointment on my satyr wounds. It smelled of mint and burned the skin fiercely. I cringed at first but she rested her hand upon my shoulder and whispered soothing words into my ears. When the pain subsided she sat beside me and traced my body with her fingers again.