Seductive Witch and a Young Knight

(Author's Note: While I intended this is to be a stand alone story, I like the characters and DO intend to produce a sequel.)

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"Enter, sir knight." Came the soothing and sultry female voice from the other side of the solid oak door. The young knight paused for a moment, shook his head slightly, his eyes closed in resignation for the task with which he'd sworn to complete. This was an act of desperation, there was no chance the Witch of the Wood would consider helping him, and in effect, help his King. The knight was sure the witch would simply toy with him, tease and obfuscate his attempts to plead for her help, and ultimately try and bait him into losing his temper, giving her a plausible reason to add him to her often-rumored tally of soldiers she'd killed. The people of the realm knew her to be an evil man-hater, an untrustworthy temptress from the mysterious south, and a beguiling deceiver. But, the knight was bound by his word and his oath of service; he had to try.

His gloved hand turned the simple latch, which opened smoothly and without the slightest protest ("Good workmanship." He appreciated, having learned to value competent iron forgers and gifted carpenters after his two years of campaigning). But as the door swung open into the dimly lit interior of the huge, ancient oak tree in which she lived ("Of course she lives in an old and scary-looking oak tree in the dark heart of the forest..." He noted sarcastically in his head, barely stifling the urge to roll his eyes), the knight dared not enter beyond the first step without formally announcing himself and asking permission to enter further to make his plea. He inhaled and was about to speak when the same voice, now appearing to come from a shadowy form sitting at the far end of the, er, tree, from the knight, interrupted him.

"Please, sir Johan... dear, handsome young Johan, come in, sit by me and let us discuss your need on this haunted day of All Hollow's Eve." He swallowed somewhat nervously, his heart rate elevated and his palms, his throat and his temples were slightly sweaty, similar to how he reacted before a battle. He expected conflict. He strode into the witch's lair, and knocked over a sack with what sounded like a large glass jar or two inside.

"Shit!" he cursed softly.

"Careful!" The witch warned, and seemed to be smiling as she said it. Johan bent down and carefully righted the sack, moving it slightly closer to the wall and out of his path, before continuing toward her.

As he drew nearer to her, he noticed that there was a very enticing smell in the room, almost like a stew, a very hearty stew of venison or perhaps goat, with very aromatic spices and perhaps some pork belly, boiling (he imagined) in a large cauldron, over a raging fire in a stone fireplace. His stomach grumbled, and he heard the witch giggle. "Perhaps if you're as polite as you are handsome, I can satisfy your hunger..." She purred.

"She really is shameless..." Thought Johan, stopping himself from shaking his head.

He stepped to within five feet of her and bent down on his knee, kneeling before her and bowing his head.

"My Lady-" He began, but the witch interrupted him again.

"Tutt-tutt, sir Johan; I am no Lady of the Court, these are my woods and I am beyond the shackling titles of the aristocracy. Hmm, I know, call me, 'Mistress.'"

Johan kept his composure, reminding himself that he was working directly for his Queen, on behalf of his stricken King. His own sense of self-worth was meaningless.

"Mistress," he continued without a hint of rancor. "I humbly ask for your help with a very grave turn of events. My lord, King Graham, has today succumbed to some form of malicious glamour; some evil ghost or fell creature has ensorcelled him, and he is unwilling to eat or drink, or to wear his clothes, and he has lost control of his words and thoughts. I come to your woods, and to your home, on behalf of the Queen of the Realm, and beg of you to help in whatever manner you see fit to free my King from this curse." Johan kept his eyes averted, and on the floor, both as to avoid angering the witch, as well as to try and escape her visage, rumored to cause men to die from sheer fright.

"Hmm, that is terrible news, indeed, but we don't really know it's a curse, do we?" She said, her words seemed to enter his mind with the sweetness of honey dripping on his lips; in spite of his certainty of the witch's malevolence, he found himself drawn to her voice, and imagining her to be as beautiful to look upon as was her voice to hear.

"Look upon me, sir knight. It is rude to treat with one whose eyes you refuse to meet." She said, startling him (though he did not cry out or flinch), as she was now directly behind him, her words seeming to whisper in his ear directly from her lips.

Johan stiffened and slowly stood up, looking to his right, where he'd heard the witch's voice, but not seeing her. His eyes looked left and right, still not seeing her, before he turned his head to the left, in order to face her chair once again. As he did so, he inadvertently rubbed his lips directly against hers, as she had positioned herself stationary in front of him, and deliberately close to him.

"Why, sir Johan! Such cheekiness!!" She exclaimed in mock outrage, her smile beautiful and wide on her perfect mouth. Her teeth were straight and white, her lips were full and either black or very dark red, and seemed very wet, and shiny, the light from her fire shimmering and dancing upon their shiny surface.

"What?! My La-er, Mistress, I meant no offense, I didn't know you were there!" He said, embarrassed and caught totally flat-footed by the witch's prank. But he was also thunderstruck by her beauty; she was the epitome of exotic and captivating to Johan. She was tall, seemingly as tall as Johan (who was six feet, two inches), and she had long, black, unruly and curly hair that hung to her waist and was pushed behind her ears. Her skin was a dark olive color, her neck was long and delicate-looking, and through her form-fitting black robe, Johan noticed her slim waist, wide hips, large and round breasts. While she'd tied a wide, yellow sash tightly around her waist, her very noticeable cleavage pushed against and threatened constantly to spill out of the deep cut in the top of her robe, which opened from her collarbone and extended down to her navel. His eyes lingered for a moment on the round, gold stud that pierced her navel. Her ears were also pierced, at least three times along the outer edge of each ear, and through which she wore small gold rings, and once more through each of her narrow lobes, which bore large, gold hoops. Her eye brows were black, as were her inch-long fingernails, and her neatly trimmed toe nails, visible on her bare feet. Her midnight-colored hair seemed to shimmer iridescently in the fire light. She was remarkably beautiful and incredibly sexy, but it was her eyes, her large eyes with bright yellow irises, framed by long, curly black lashes, that captivated Johan and stole his breath, jumbling his mind for several moments.

"Sir Johan, are you ill? You seem to be having some trouble..." She said, her voice melodic and soothing to his mind as he listened to her.

"I, uh, I beg for your aid..." He stammered again, unable to look away from her, but also neither quaking nor reacting with terror.

"This one has steel in him..." She mused, liking that he did not panic and seemed more attracted to her than afraid of her.

She reached out to gently touch his cheek, trailing her long, black fingernails softly against his skin, noticing the stubble and enjoying the raspy hiss of her nails against it. "Relax, Johan. I'm not going to hurt you; Yet..." She taunted him, then turned from him and sat back down in her chair, in front of him.

Johan composed himself and was about to restate his reason for coming to her woods and her tree, when she yet again, cut him off.

"How deep is your commitment to your King and Queen, Johan?"

"Mistress?" He asked, not really understanding her question.

"What would you do to secure the help your King needs? Is there anything you would not do in order to fulfill your oath to your Queen, to bring assistance?" She asked him, smiling again in her manner that was both arousing but also hinted at a threat.

He surprised her again, showing only resolve and answering her without any hesitation or waver. "I would give my life to fulfill my oath and help my King. I have given my word to my Queen, and am worthless without honoring that commitment."

The witch studied him, he was young, perhaps 18 or 19, she knew him to have not only survived, but to have fought with distinction in the most recent campaigns, far from their shores. In fact, he had been a hero and had both saved captive peasant families from slavery, and had killed three bitter enemies of his King, men whose heads the King had offered generous rewards for. And yet, as the witch knew events to have transpired, Johan had accepted no rewards and had begged out of any public recognition for his valor; he insisted that the glory belonged to the whole army, and that vanity and self-congratulatory behavior were unworthy of a knight. He was the most humble and perhaps, honest man she'd known of in this realm. He was also very handsome, with wonderfully broad shoulders, high and sharp cheekbones, bright blue eyes and short, clipped hair.

"Prove it." She said, softly but with a scratchy growl. "Could you bring yourself to disrobe, and stand before me naked and vulnerable to my whims?"

He squinted his eyes in slight confusion and seemed to almost smile. "As you wish." He said, and began taking off his gloves, but the witch seemed impatient, and gestured grandly with her hands through several motions before pointing her long, thin index fingers and and shiny black nails at him, and instantly his clothing removed itself from him. His boots, socks, trousers and belt unlaced and pooled at his ankles; his tunic, undershirt and gloves flew from his torso and arms and lay in a heap behind him. He stood before her naked. The air upon his skin was hot and dry, as though flowing directly from the fire and warming him.

The witch studied his naked body, enjoying the sight of his large, firm pecs, his swollen biceps and wide deltoid muscles. His cock was long and wide, and hung languidly over his fat scrotum, dangling between two bulging testicles. On either side of his cock and balls were thick, angular quadriceps, below which were his knees and flared and powerful calf muscles. The witch stood up slowly and approached him, swaying her hips in an exaggerated and intentionally provocative manner. She paused a foot away from him, looked from his eyes down to his chest, his washboard abdominal muscles and stopped to stare at his fat cock.

"I see that circumcision has not caught on here yet," she said, reaching out and taking his rapidly hardening cock in her hands, squeezing it and twisting her hands gently in opposite directions around his shaft. "Pity..." She said, but then squealed with delight. "Oh! There he is!" She continued, as his erection pushed the head of his penis out of the foreskin. "So much better when you're unsheathed..." She purred, looking into his eyes as she gently ran the tips of her fingernails very softly along the underside of his glans, to the tip of his penis and then back to the foreskin, twirling her thumb and index fingers around the ring where his foreskin curled back just past the angular helmet of his cock's head.

Johan shivered with pleasure at her touch and fought to keep his eyes open and his composure maintained.

"I am at your mercy, Mistress. What would you have me do next?" He asked, forcing his voice to steady and his attention on her eyes and not on the unbelievable pleasure her fingers brought him.

"Next?" She mused, letting go of his cock and holding her chin in her right hand, her left hand gripping her right elbow, feigning deep thought. She turned left and right, swaying rhythmically as she pretended to seriously consider his question. Then she looked into his eyes and snapped her right fingers and pointed at him, her mouth a wide smile. "Next, I want to feel your kiss on my lips..." She said "Would you kiss the Witch of the Wood's lips to fulfill your oath?" She asked him challengingly, her hands on her hips, her head pushed slightly forward and cocked slightly to her left.

"Yes, Mistress." Johan said, and moved forward slowly, closed his eyes and leaned his head toward her and kissed her soft, full lips.

"Mmm," she said pleasantly, enjoying his kiss for several heartbeats before taking hold of each side of his square jaw with her hands and changing his soft, sweet kiss into a lewd, deep kiss, driving her tongue into his mouth and breathing deeply. She knew she'd surprised him, but was delighted when he reciprocated, putting his arms around her back and shoulders and kissing her with just as much passion in return. Johan put his tongue into her mouth just as she had done, and kissed her with just as much intensity and lust. She moved her right hand to the back of his head, and slowly slid her fingers down his strong neck to grip his hard trapezius muscles, and then to massage and caress his muscular, broad shoulders.

"Mmmf!" She moaned as she squeezed and caressed his right shoulder and bicep, while her left hand had trailed down his throat, pectoral muscles and abs and continued down to once again take hold of his penis. She squeezed his shaft hard, and lifted it up and began to rub the head of his cock against her crotch, though the fabric of her robe stood between them. She could feel his hard dick throb aggressively as she squeezed it, and felt the swollen, pulsing hardness of his large cock head, pushing against her increasingly wet pussy.

She stepped back and broke off their kiss, smiling mischievously at him but maintaining her left hand's grip on his cock. "Johan, you treacherous knave!" She scolded him mockingly, gently trailing her right index finger and shiny, black nail along the line of his masculine jaw and chin. "I told you I wanted to feel your kiss on my lips, and you deceived me!"

Her voice was so sexy, it was hard for Johan to focus at first. But then as he finally processed what she'd told him, teasingly, he became confused. "Mistress, I did kiss your lips."

"Yes, but I didn't mean these lips," she said, using her right hand to point to her shiny, full, jet-black lips. She saw he was still confused and smiled again, wider, moving her right hand down to her crotch, taking hold of the fabric of her robe, despite the pre-cum she'd smeared on it from the head of his cock, and lifted her robe, revealing her long and very shapely, olive colored legs. She stopped as she angled her pelvis toward him and displayed to him her pussy, covered in short, curly, shiny and wet hair. "I want to feel your kiss on these lips..." She said thickly, and began pumping his hard cock slowly, rubbing the pad of her thumb and the tip of her thumbnail gently against the soft, sensitive glans of his penis.

Johan swallowed deeply, both nervous at being asked to do something he'd never tried, and incredibly aroused by the prospect of making contact with and taking in the sight of her sex. His hands felt warm and sweaty where he held her hips and back.

"Sweety, would you do even this shameless act of carnality to fulfill your oath? Can your honor endure even after you've kissed my sopping cunt, sampled my womanly essence, and felt the heat of my unwholesome yearning for you?" She taunted him, moving forward again and slowly grinding the head of his cock against her very wet, incredibly warm and smooth labia even as she teasingly kissed his lips, pulling on his bottom lip gently with her teeth. She could feel the heat rising from his face, throat and chest, and she knew he was becoming overwhelmed with desire. Johan nearly ejaculated against the witch's pussy lips, the sensation he felt as she rubbed his bare cock head against her wet, thick, warm labia was the most stupefyingly pleasing feeling he had ever known. He told himself she was tempting him to disobey her, and to give her an excuse not to help save his King. He forced his mind to focus on his oath, and not on his own selfish and exploding desire for the witch.

"As you wish, Mistress." He said, and let go of her and began to slowly kneel down before her.

"No, not here. Come with me, to my bed." She said, pulling him back to his feet and thinking "No need to be uncomfortable." She led him by his cock, tugging very gently on it to indicate direction, toward her bed, adjacent to her chair and nearer the fire that Johan now saw burning in a corner of the room.

Her bed lay upon a simple, hand-carved wooden frame and was a surprisingly neatly constructed mattress stuffed with feathers and sewn very tightly and professionally, Johan noticed. His appreciation for quality workmanship briefly took his attention from the witch as she let go of his cock and untied her sash, pulled her robe off, over her head and lay back on her bed, her legs spread and her head laying on her two thick pillows. The witch saw where his attention was focused and after waiting a moment for him to notice her, looked at him with annoyance as he began to examine the stitching on the corners of her mattress.

"Hey, sir Johan... Over here!" She scolded him, this time with real annoyance in her voice.

He looked up from the mattress "Damn, that is really well made!" He thought and looked at the witch.

"Saints above!" He cursed softly, noticing how sexy the witch was, now that her shapely body was fully naked before him. He found that her dark skin was uniformly olive colored, so exotic in comparison to the pale skin, blue eyes and light colored hair of his people. Her breasts were even rounder and fuller than he'd noticed through her robe, her nipples and areolae were as black as her lips and nails, and were wide and thick (her areolae seemed to be four inches in diameter while her nipples were as long and thick as the last segment of each of his thumbs). Her stomach was flat and the gold stud that pierced her navel glinted brightly in the dull light of the fire burning in her fire place ("Wasn't the fire burning much brighter, just a few moments ago?" Johan wondered)

"Give us a kiss..." The witch teased, her voice so alluring and full of implication to Johan's ears, her long, dark fingers and black nails rubbed at her swollen, dark labia and pushed slightly into the pink, wet opening of her inviting vagina. Even the curly black hair around her labia seemed sopping wet with her juice, and Johan felt a deep need to feel them against his face.

He moved forward and crawled onto her bed, his hard cock dragging against the soft, firm fabric of the mattress as he slid his hands under her thighs and reached around to hold her legs, pulling them gently back toward her arms. He bent his face down to her snatch, feeling heat waft from its surface and smelling the almost imperceptibly musky scent. He didn't understand why, but the scent made his cock throb and his mouth water, and he leaned in and stuck out his tongue, and licked her thick, soft pussy from the bottom of her slit to the small bean-shaped protuberance poking out from the apex. He licked slowly and deeply, and enjoyed the taste and the texture of her cunt, swallowing the juice that slid along his tongue and into his mouth, finding its wholly unknown taste, sticky texture and warm temperature pleasing to his palate. Even more than that, he loved how the witch squeezed her breasts tightly, arched her back and moaned shamelessly.

"Oh, fuck, Johan! Oh, Goddess and Spirits of Fucking-Nature, your tongue tickles my cunt like nothing I have ever known!" She moaned filthily, not embarrassing or shaming Johan, but rather encouraging him that what he'd done was correct.