Intober 2020 - Day 01

{This is my first time participating in Kinktober, and I'm pretty excited! I hope I can keep up! My plan is to make all of the stories around a central character-Quinn-who is a witch. The world is one of fantasy, so magic and the creatures associated with it all exist. The prompts on the list I'm using aren't all very interesting, but I plan to spice them up with the nature of the world I'm writing and make everything a little bit scarier, and a lot more exciting. (No Kink Day, how is that a kinktober prompt? Whatevs)}

*****

I had been banished only a few days before. Unceremoniously dragged out of my apartment in the early hours of dawn, thrown into a carriage, and driven to the edge of the Endless Wood. No longer was I to be the king's magician. I'd been ousted by a wizard, and now I was to be the Wicked Witch; a title which had been unclaimed for several decades.

I knew better than to lash out in my anger; banishment was easily the nicest retirement I could hope for. So I kept the curses behind my lips and instead grabbed what little my maid had been able to pack for me before I'd been 'escorted' off the premises, and trudged into the wood.

The Endless Wood had taken many lives, and it was forbidden to enter it. Not to say people didn't. And things could always come out of the forest, even if nothing ever went in.

It was still early evening, but that hardly mattered, dark as it was beneath the thick branches overhead. I expected the Witch's Cottage to be further into the darkness of the wood, but I'd only walked a few miles before it revealed itself to me in a clearing, beneath a sky not yet turned dusky.

The thatch had fallen in at one corner of the roof, and it was coated in a fine layer of grime, but all four walls still stood, and there was absolutely no overgrowth obscuring the building.

I couldn't help but sigh and send out a quick suggestion that the inside of the building should be in better condition. Maybe it'd work, since the cottage was a magical entity, too. The door opened rather smoothly, making a pile of the fallen thatch behind it as I pushed.

Inside wasn't too bad, though I couldn't tell if it was my suggestion that did it, or if the previous Witch had known her time was coming and prepared for it. There was a fireplace with a big open hearth to the left. To the right was a large square table, draped in a cloth. There was a bulky form in the center of the space draped in a tarp, I could see table legs, the suggestion of a coat rack, a crate all peaking out from beneath the cover. Above the space to the right was a loft, with a steep narrow staircase framing a narrow door at the back of the house. Out the back door was a large porch sheltered by the overhanging roof, with a big cast iron tub for bathing and washing clothes.

Back inside I unpacked, set up house, and by midnight I had things in order. I counted myself lucky to have been banished in the summer, when I didn't need to worry about lighting a fire in the hearth to avoid freezing in the night. I took the opportunity of the full moon that night to set up a ward to prevent any creature wishing me harm from approaching my new home. Walking the perimeter was good, it gave me a chance to assess the damage I'd need to fix in the morning.

Nothing much was amiss besides the thatch, and that was easy enough to do if I took my time with it.

When I came back to the porch I surveyed the brightly lit wood beyond. Everything awash in the silver light of the full moon made me feel powerful, a thrumming in my fingertips and a flutter in my chest that pulled me to the wilderness. I wanted to perform a powerful work under the light of the moon, clad only in my skin, unafraid of what could harm me. There was nothing that could hurt me on a night like this.

However, this night was not one for exercising my strengths. If I were still in the castle, surely the king would ask me to bring him more successes with the power the moon brought. The thought made me sick and bitter, souring the mood. I knew anything I worked on this night would be tainted with my anger and produce nothing worth the energy.

I kicked off my shoes and stripped out of my dress, my chemise, my stockings. The air cooled my skin in places I hadn't realized I'd been sweating. I stretched, arching my back toward the goddess' pale round face above me, lifting the hair off my neck and enjoying the cool air that rushed in against my nape. I bowed low to the lady moon, folding myself in half, wrapping my arms around my thighs and chanting on the rush of air as it came in and out of my lungs.

When the ritual was done, bringing me peace in my mind and my heart I hadn't felt that morning when the guards had brandished their iron at my face and tore me from my chambers, I straightened and went inside. I brought all the bedding from inside and filled the cast iron tub. I crawled in, curling up and tugging the blanket over my nakedness. I would sleep here, in lieu of a mattress, and bathe in the moon's power as long as I could. I knew that I'd need her strength in the coming months.

~~

I wasn't sure what had woken me. I was definitely no longer asleep; I could feel the pillow against my face, and the breeze on my toes where they peeked out from the blanket. I lay still, fighting the urge in my body to breath deeply and stretch. The ward I'd cast was buzzing in the back of my mind, letting me know that I wasn't alone on the porch anymore.

The breeze died down a bit and the rustling of the leaves faded away and then I heard it; a snuffling sniffing sort of sound. It was a deep sound, that of something large and nearby. I felt a short burst of exhale on my ear and cracked my eyes open. I could see nothing but the pillows, the edge of the tub, and the forest beyond the porch. But the sniffing feeling was moving to my cheek, followed by a long wet tongue.

I couldn't help but yelp at the shock of the wetness, quickly turning around to face whoever-whatever-was tasting me. It was-of course-a werewolf. His form was not that of a full wolf, but instead he stood upright on hind legs, crouched though he was after I'd startled him.

I'd heard once that only alpha werewolves took this form. He must either be a lone wolf, or I'd stumbled into his territory and he was investigating if I was a threat to his pack. Currently I was leaning towards lone wolf, if his defensive posture was any indication. His fur was dark and his eyes a bright blue, and as we regarded each other he came closer, keeping himself small and low to the ground.

"This is my porch now, so kindly state your business," I finally said, feeling the moon coursing through my blood.

His head tilted, eyes looking very amused. I refused to give an inch as he came closer, claws closing around the edge of the tub, and leaned into my space. I know I must have looked like prey to him; I was afraid to look away from him, despite my own strength, sure that he was stalking me. He had much more practice being predator than I had at being prey, I was positive of that.

His nose brushed my ear again, trailed down my jaw to my neck. The touch was light, and the huffing of his breath made my skin prickle with sensitivity. He spent a lot of time sniffing around the crook of my neck before I felt the tongue again. I gasped and my hands released the sheet I'd been clutching and came up to press against his shoulders. I wasn't sure what I intended to do-push him away, pull him closer-but it didn't matter, I was immediately distracted.

His hair was soft, a delightful revelation never mentioned in any book I'd read, but he took the motion as an invitation and a rough palm came up to cup my elbow. As the palm slid up my arm the tongue began to explore, when his claws brushed the swell of my breast his teeth nipped at my jaw and I felt myself grow hot. I must have let out a sound he recognized as a whine, for he surged up over me, I tumbled back into the pillows, and he pulled the sheet away from me entirely.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment as his eyes roamed over me, his body hovering close, gaze directed down between us. The blue of them burned hotter than a fire and I grew wet all over under his gaze; sweat breaking out over me in a sheen as my pussy convulsed. I felt like I was melting as he caged me into the tub, clawed hands on opposite edges, furry chest pressing down on me. My hands did nothing to push him away, instead curling into the fur, tugging lightly as his teeth found my shoulder.

He was careful, so precise, each touch of teeth just enough to ignite my nerves, but not enough to leave a lasting mark. I writhed and gasped for breath, my heart racing, the moon's magic thrumming in the flesh between my legs. His weight shifted above me, and then suddenly he was impossibly closer.

As his knees came to rest in the tub, he pulled one hand from the edge and reached his palm behind my knee. I inhaled sharply as he lifted my entire lower half with that one hand, and made room for himself in the tub. When he lowered me I was overwhelmed with all the sensations; first was the soft fur of his thighs on the backs of mine, followed quickly by the press of a slick length of skin laying across my folds. I can't be held responsible for the high pitch of the sound I made at the feeling of it all.

I couldn't control the way my body arched up into his at the press of it, I felt him twitch and the answering clench of my pussy drove a moan up out of my chest. He shifted again, his arm moving up to hold himself from the back edge of the tub so he could have the other hand free. This he slipped up my thigh, around the curve of my ass, up my back to encourage me closer, his nose came down to my nipple and he laved it with long strokes of his tongue before moving to the other. My hips rocked against him as the sensations in my nipples raced down to my throbbing center.

There was a rumble in his chest when my hands came up to clutch the back of his neck and he thrust against me, pressing that slick length against me. The force of it revealed to him the wetness I'd been flooded with when he first looked at me with intent. He definitely noticed because his hips stuttered as he pulled them back for another go and his teeth closed around one nipple when he moved forward again. The sound I made would have penetrated even the stone walls of my previous living space. Here, though, it echoed off the trees and drove my partner wild, he drew back from me and gave me a long hard stare, waiting for something.

I lay there panting in the pillows, hands clenching uselessly in my own hair, toes curling already and he hadn't even put his cock in me. It was a nice cock, too, not grotesquely huge, but hefty, and I could see a bulge near the base that may or may not inflate like a dog's.

I hadn't really had a chance to look at him until now, and part of me knew that I'd be expected to cringe away in horror at the looming mass of muscle and fur, the canine face and clawed fingers, and certainly the thick cock as it bobbed toward me. I noticed there was a string of fluid dripping off the bottom and realized it was from pressing against my cunt. The thought made me flush and I met his eyes.

The look I gave him must have said something, because he took his free hand and lined himself up with my clenching hole. Again he froze and waited, watching my face closely. I felt as though I were glowing, I was so hot and I wanted nothing more than to feel the peak of pleasure I knew the full moon would add to our coupling.

I let out a whine and wrapped my legs around his hips, I could feel just the tip of his cock press shallowly into me as I lifted myself up towards him. Again, he rumbled deep in his chest and I stilled and closed my eyes, but let out a moan, torn by how turned on I was and how much I didn't want to make a werewolf angry. His rough palm traced the curve of my thigh, over the swell of my hip where it stopped, claws resting very lightly against my skin.

And then he was squeezing into me, the thickness carving space against my swollen walls, making room for himself inside me. My hands slid down through his fur, searching for purchase, something to cling to so I didn't get washed away in the sensations. There was so much of him and I wanted it all.

When he was fully seated, he released my hip and placed both of his hands on the edge of the tub above my head. He hovered over me, watching me with those glowing blue eyes, hardly more than a shadow. I grabbed fistfuls of pillows and relaxed my thighs enough to give him range of movement. That was all the consent he needed to begin.

His hips rolled smoothly as he worked himself in and out of me. I could no longer control the sounds I made, instead trying to smother them with my palm. The heat building up inside me was phenomenal; the unrelenting friction stretching and rubbing me in ways I hadn't been in several years. Too busy with work to find someone who actually knew what they were doing. I'd been fucking guards and footmen for too long.

I hadn't even realized I'd been missing the raw, rough, savage kind of sex. Tonight I was reborn. I was the Wicked Witch, I had bathed in the power of the moon, and I would be anointed in the seed of a werewolf. I would become one of the creatures of the Endless Wood.

As he landed a particularly well placed thrust my hand could do nothing to keep me quiet, I abandoned the attempted and gripped his biceps with both hands as I rode the crest of my orgasm. My body bowed up into him as he rode me through it, rumbling in his throat as my external muscles tensed while my internal muscles spasmed and clenched around the hot thrusting shaft inside me.

When the wave of my orgasm had crashed over me and left me slack beneath him, he paused in his motions. My pussy was still twitching, and I was disappointed when he sat up, the breeze on my heated skin twisted my nipples into hard little peaks. I cracked my eyes open and looked at him as he shifted his knees as far apart as he could in the tub. He pulled at some of the pillows to make more room for himself, and finally wrapped both massive palms around my hips. Any fears I'd had that he was going to leave unfinished evaporated as he used his grip on me to pull me onto his length.

I gave up on keeping any of my sounds in. Every thrust was accompanied by a whimper, whine, yelp, or moan. The wet sounds of my cunt made up for the lack of flesh slapping sounds that usually accompanied such activities. The softness of the fur, the firmness of the hips and thighs I was draped over contrasted so beautifully with the roughness of the pads on his palms, and eventually the sharp pinch of his claws as his pace picked up.

I was slick with sweat all over, and I could see the dampness on his fur from where we were connected. I wanted him to go harder, faster, deeper, and I must have started babbling such things to him, because he let loose a snarl, bearing his teeth at me. His claws released me on one side and slid down to my knee, lifting it up onto his shoulder, spreading me wider.

The depth of penetration was mind blowing. If I hadn't just orgasmed, it would've been too much. My lower half was completely in his control; he held my hip in an iron grip, keeping me from sliding away from his thrusting. My other leg was secured over his shoulder, the hand resting on my thigh, kneading it rhythmically while he nipped and licked at the smooth skin of my knee and calf.

The position had forced me over onto my side a bit, one of the many pillows hugged tightly to my chest as I was driven towards my second orgasm. He snarled as my muscles rippled around him and he drove into me, relentless with hips and teeth again my skin. The squelching increased, my pussy convulsing in wave after wave of orgasm, one crashing directly into the next until his hips pressed fully against mine and he stilled.

The wail that escaped me when he stopped thrusting was undignified, but my distress lasted only a moment as I felt the base of his cock begin to grow, stretching me a few delightful centimeters. I gasped sharply as his teeth and claws pierced my skin, but it melted quickly into a moan as I felt a hot rush of liquid inside me.

It seemed to go on for several minutes, though it was probably less than one, and the knot deflated with the slowing of the flow. He pulled out and released me, draping himself over the edges of the tub and effectively blocking out everything but his silhouette and the shine of his half-lidded eyes. We both panted, our breaths mingling in the space between us. I ignored the tickle of cum trailing down my ass crack and blood sliding down my sweaty skin.

"It's still my porch," I finally managed to gasp out as my heart rate began to settle back to normal. The werewolf's eyes grew wide for a moment before he huffed out what I took to be a laugh. He climbed out of the tub and off of the porch. I sat up to watch him as he walked back out among the trees, his dark fur disguising him as nothing more than a shadow in the wood. He didn't spare me a backward glance. I had no trouble falling back to sleep, but made a firm mental note to make some pennyroyal tea in the morning; a pup was the last thing I wanted in my life.

~~

I was sore, but other than the small wounds from teeth and nails I felt better than I had in months, and those healed quickly with a little salve. I spent the next few days getting my mattress stuffed with reeds, and tending to the garden. I'd heard the clucking of hens in the woods and didn't doubt the birds could thrive here, and the cottage seemed to have a small attached henhouse on the south side that just needed a bit of the wire mended. I was kept busy by the many projects I found, and though the memory had left my body, my mind still lingered over the night I'd spent in the tub on the porch.

On the night of the new moon-two weeks since that full moon-I was stacking firewood as the sun was setting. The darkness was creeping across the clearing, but the timing would be perfect to finish my chore and head inside for some food.

The final pieces of wood were stacked before I felt the eyes on the back of my neck. That I'd let my guard down enough to be snuck up on was shameful enough, but the reaction of my body when I looked over my shoulder into bright blue eyes was something I'd never speak of. With just the weight of those eyes on me I was growing damp beneath my skirts and flush across my face.

Though he was in man form, I knew it was the werewolf. He was tall, and broad, barefoot in breeches and a linen shirt. His hair was as dark as his fur had been, growing long and wild, with a dark scruff of beard to match. He stood just inside the tree line watching me.

"Good evening," I finally managed, making no attempt to disguise my appraisal.

"Good evening," he rumbled back and my heart leapt before racing at the way it vibrated up my spine-the same way his growling had.

I licked my lips, though my mouth was terribly dry. His eyes tracked the movement. "Would you like to come in and join me for supper?"

He took a few steps toward me, into the clearing, I could see dark hair across his chest where the shirt hung open. "What are you serving?"

I barked a laugh, surprised and amused by his suggestive tone. "I'm sure I can find something to satisfy you." I threw a smirk at him over my shoulder as I turned toward the porch. His feet made hardly a sound on the forest floor, but I knew he'd follow me inside.