The Devil and the Witch: Rowan, 1746

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Second short story in main series. Part one of sub series.
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The Devil and the Witch

Rowan and Cassandra, 1746

Part 1

Randolph wore his thickest furs, bundled around him tight. Winter was blowing in as cold as he anticipated; he was well prepared for the onslaught, the terrible winds, and the blistering cold. December was harsh in the mountains where he and the rest of the villagers made their lives. They lived remotely and off the land that surrounded them, trying to keep away from more modern society. They preferred the old ways, the old gods. And the solitude.

He continued his march through the trees, pausing momentarily at the frozen lake. He looked out at the water remembering summer, the rays of light bouncing off the surface, the young woman he found bathing there. She did not do much to cover herself upon his arrival. She sat upon a rock below the surface, water up to her breasts, the pink, plump mounds above the crest. Her nipples were hard in the cool water. Her black hair braided down her back, fire in her green eyes. He knew that she was naked, and she positioned herself there on purpose to draw immediate attention. Looking at her he felt himself go hard. She looked at him from underneath her lashes, her right hand below the water's surface between her legs, and her left caressing her own breast. She gave him a smile and beckoned him to join her in the water. He knew that she was a gift from his Master.

Looking back on that memory, remembering how she looked, with him now standing there at the frozen lake he could feel his member engorge itself once more despite the weather. He would relieve himself with his new toy after the meeting with the Witch.

Randolph continued his walk in the woods until he came across the campsite of the Witch.

"I have come as requested, Rowan," he stated to what appeared to be an empty field. But just as soon as he spoke the Witch's name she appeared with a blazing fire burning beside her.

She wore a cloak made of white deer, soft and supple leather, fine hairs. Underneath, Randolph knew her to wear nothing, not even the hair she grew into when she was matured. She could not feel the temperature in any season. She existed in perfect harmony with nature, at balance with the world around her. She looked young, no one knew her age at all. When she discussed her birth it was never in relation to an exact year but more so a bundle of years. On one occasion Randolph heard her say millennia, but that had been so long ago when he had just become a man, he might not be remembering the conversation right.

"Randolph," the blonde haired witch, with blue eyes spoke tenderly. "Who was that you sent me weeks ago? You promised me a virgin and he clearly was not." She looked disappointed, her pale hair cast over her shoulders.

Randolph thought to lie to the witch but knew better. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, "Rowan, I am sorry, we have no virgins of age. Not yet, not until next year. He was not supposed to deceive you with our intentions. We thought to send someone rather than no one."

She sighed, "He was a nice toy to play with, but my time is short Randolph. I must carry the seed before next winter." Rowan looked at Randolph, her eyes glowed blue with intensity, there was a strain in her voice. "The planets are in alignment, this does not easily occur. My lord must come before they fall out of place," she hissed the words.

Randolph stuttered and stammered, and in the end spoke nothing, abashed.

"I have blessed you and your village with plenty," Rowan walked around her fire. "Food, shelter, children, and safety. The solitude. Gifts. The toys in which you keep to yourselves," she grinned ear to ear, biting her bottom lip. "All I ask for in return, the simple pleasures: your acknowledgment, remembrance on festival, worship, and your virgins every time the planets align. That is all, and in exchange, I will give you everything you need to live your lives. If you cannot uphold your end of the bargain, it will be a rough winter next year as my powers will be drained." Rowan's eyes flashed with flames.

"Yes, Master, I do understand. And we are sorry." Randolph was now worried, he did not know her powers would dissipate.

Rowan sighed, brushed her fingers through her golden locks, looked at Randolph. "I see you found your new toy pleasing." Rowan smiled, her blue eyes alight again but in jest.

"Yes, Master, I do." Randolph adjusted the way he stood as Rowan laughed.

"Very good." She walked to him then, brushed her fingers, hot as the fire, across his cheek, spoke in whisper words he could not understand or pronounce. He immediately filled with warmth from within. He could no longer feel the cold. "And how does your wife feel about your new toy?"

"She is bitter but understands a man's needs," Randolph said sternly.

"Of course, all men desire the same things: dominance over a woman, and of course children." Rowan removed the cloak she wore, exposing her naked body underneath, she cast it aside. Rowan smiled, held out her hand for him.

Randolph's loin was already throbbing from his thoughts earlier, and now with his Master standing there offering her body to him, he could not bear it anymore. His furs were beginning to suffocate him.

"Randolph, come and worship me, beg for forgiveness," she whispered in his mind, her lips never moved. "Virgins only exist for purpose, not pleasure."

He tore at his clothing, quickly removing everything that adorned his body. The spell Rowan cast on him took care of the weather, he felt a comfortable warmth even in the nude.

Randolph was still in his prime at 51 years old. His body was well maintained from the harsh life in the woods, the heavy work the village required of the men. They built the dwellings, did the hunting and the farming, all the manual labor outside of the home. In return his body was muscular and lean, still tanned from the summer. His hair was dark, with thin streaks of white throughout. While he looked to be aging, it was gracefully, and it was slow.

When he turned 21 years old his father had brought him to the Witch. He had been chosen as the next messenger of Rowan. He would be the one to lead the village and to assure Rowan that her desires were accomplished. Pleasing the Witch would bring good fortune to the village, as she was generous in her giving as long as the messenger was obedient. Because of his service, he was granted a longer life, slower aging, and benefits that no other villager would get: he would bed the Witch as often as he pleased, how he pleased.

Randolph's dick was large and had turned red from the blood throbbing in their veins, he was ready to worship her.

"Rowan, on your knees," he commanded her.

And then the small blonde, with her golden waves and pale skin plopped down on her knees in the snow in front of Randolph, licking her lips, her eyes alight. She grasped his large rod in her small hands and pulled it into her eager mouth. Rowan's tongue was warm, soft, her teeth just barely scraped down the sides of his swollen member. She could hear him moan already. She rubbed her tongue underneath his dick a few times and then began to pump her head up and down. Randolph began to moan louder. He placed his hands on her head, intertwined her fingers into her golden mane, held on tightly as she bobbed up and down, slurping away on his dick. He could feel her spit and his pre-cum drip down her chin as she mouth fucked him.

His dick would occasionally spasm inside her mouth, she would just move it further down her throat. Rowan increased the pressure from her lips, her tongue; teeth pressed gently down parts of his swollen rod to stimulate him even more. He grunted, clenching his jaw.

Randolph removed himself from her mouth, she spat on him and stroked her hands down his dick gently but with enough pressure to have his balls clench in pleasure. Rowan looked up at him expectantly, she knew how he liked to begin their worshiping, the mingling of their bodies. The muscles beneath her hands began to convulse, his first load spewing hot on to her chest. Her tongue peeked out from her pink lips, slid across the head of his shaft. Her lips suctioning off all of his leftover seed.

She stood then, his cum dripping between her small but full breasts, caressing her hands over her hard, protruding, sensitive nipples. She stroked her thumbs over the areola and then grasped the tips and pulled as a soft moan escaped her lips. Her eyes were electric with desire as she looked at Randolph's, biting her bottom lip in anticipation.

"Will you take me now? Will you make me cum on you, Randolph?" she spoke in a husky voice, strained from the growing warmth between her legs. "My pussy is juicy for you. Ready for your dick. Ready for your seed," she moaned that last part. She had already turned around, spread her legs apart, her small fingers rubbing her moist clit. "Ahhhh," she was already starting to climax when Randolph came behind her and took over at her slit.

He stood there behind her, slightly bent as his 6'2" frame towered over her. She was only 5'3", very young looking next to Randolph himself. Her breasts were small but full, more than a mouthful, and just enough for Randolph's hands. They were warm as he touched her, his left hand over her breast, his fingers toying with her teat; his right hand wet with her juices stroking away at her clit. He rubbed her in circles, dipping down and into her hole for more of her wetness to smear across her labia. His fingers, large and wide stretched at her walls in preparation for the schlong that would fill her soon. Rowan moaned loudly. Her body shuddered, she could feel Randolph's dick behind her. It was engorged and dripping already, pressed against her, but he was not eager to please her just yet.

Randolph pulled his fingers from her cunt and moved them back up to her clit. He circled it twice, his palmed placed over the naked pubic mound above. Then he pulled his hand up to her wanting mouth, she tasted herself on his fingers, lapping away until all her juices had gone. He was grinding his dick against her body, holding her tightly. She was already racked with sensations. She wanted his cock inside her but she tried to be patient. When the Messenger worshiped the Witch it was always under his rules.

He held her with one arm around her waist, his other hand caressed her face, pulled her by the cheek to face him as much as the angle would allow. He whispered into her ear, "I will taste you now my little witch." He licked her ear, her cheek.

Rowan moved from his grasp, and with some magic, when she laid down on the ground they were transported into her private dwellings, to her bed. In her room, a fire blazed hot in the grate illuminating the stone walls. Randolph was already between her legs, his mouth gently nipping at her hairless mound. His lips sucked for a moment at the outer folds. He could smell her wetness, an intoxicating perfume that drew him into a frenzy, made him clench his jaw in desire. He made himself focus, he was not ready to bust his next load just yet.

Her legs were spread apart on the large bed, the alter she used for worshiping. As a witch, she did not need sleep. She did not tire. This bed only existed when she had her lovers over to worship her, men and women. It was more for the comfort of the humans who were used to inner dwellings than for herself. She enjoyed the outdoor life, being one with nature, the world where she drew her power. The comfort the room gave her servants came back to her threefold in carnal pleasure.

Her legs were spread wide, Randolph's mouth had moved to her clit; he licked and sucked. The circles he formed with his tongue, the occasional pressure from the suction of his mouth had Rowan bucking her hips towards his face. A smile crept across his face, not every lover she took gave her this much pleasure. He knew that by how often she offered herself to him when he would visit. Prior to finding his wife if he was hard and needed some release he would wander into the woods and call out her name. When she would lead him to her land and appear before him, she would be willing to take him in immediately, and always in a rush.

In the beginning, it was always in her room, that he knew she never used for any other purpose except to make him comfortable. And then later when they were both anxious and too ready to go it would just be out in the woods with the bugs and the animals to witness. Most of the time he would take her on the ground directly, him behind her pounding away, his balls slapping against her ass, his nails digging into the skin on her hips, blood surfacing in the scrapes. Other times, she would ride him with his back against the leaves, or in the snow. It always amazed him that she could just turn the temperature off and they would fuck in the middle of winter, outside, often with snow falling around him. It was these moments that he knew magic was real, and her powers were strong.

Randolph lapped at her pussy with his mouth, his tongue tasting her juices, swallowing her. Rowan moaned, gripped at the furs on the bed and pulled as the first orgasm erupted inside of her. Her body convulsed, her pussy leaked. Her face skewed, a look of both pain and pleasure, her jaw went slack. Her heart was beating in her chest, Randolph could hear it thud against her rib cage, he could feel the blood pumping through her veins.

*

She was human once, long before she was offered to the Devil as payment for a wish. The deal as old as time itself: one soul for one desire. Normally most people offer their own soul in exchange for the boon, however, Rowan's mother was selfish. She offered her young daughter instead. And the Devil agreed.

Being the Devil he lived by his own rules. And Lorna was stupid to trust him like most humans are when selfishness is involved. The Devil did not like that she offered the soul of her daughter instead of her own, so he took them both. At the end of Lorna's life, two things would occur: she would be imprisoned in Hell for eternity and Rowan would live for eternity, worshiped as a god on Earth.

And true to his word, in the same year when Rowan turned 18, her mother died from a bear attack. When they found her body and saw the damage, they brought her home to the village. The town knew she had been cursed, and they waited with her corpse in the pit. At twilight, in the in-between where magic is more easily seen to human eyes, the Devil came to claim her soul.

He walked into town, his clothing fit to his body. Beneath his tunic you could see fragments of ancient symbols, his former idols and fellow gods that covered his torso. His boots crunched the dead leaves from the end of Autumn as he approached. He was golden, dark-haired and with eyes as black as the night. He did not scare the villagers as he did not mean them harm. They just stood there watching him, waiting.

He walked to the pit where Lorna lay, the villagers stood patiently. His hand outstretched, quietly reciting an incantation no one could understand or remember. Her body burst into flames, a shadow slithered from the fire and into the ground. A light illuminated in Rowan's eyes.

As he turned and walked toward his new servant, he looked at the old lady holding Rowan at her side smiled at her serenely. With a calmness and gentleness the Devil only reserved for those who deserved more than He, he spoke to Rowan, "Your life is yours to live for all eternity, you will be taken care of in this world and the next. You will not suffer once. And those who worship you will never suffer either. On the last day of your new life, should you perish, you will reign with me and mine." He closed his eyes, bowed his head, and in an instant he was gone.

*

Rowan's pussy was dripping with her own juices. Randolph licked his lips as he positioned himself over her. Her body was still rocking from the spasms he just caused her. He bent to her ear, "Did you enjoy that? Do you like it when I eat your little cunt?"

In response Rowan just moaned, she couldn't even move her legs.

Randolph had already been hard but when Rowan was partially incapacitated from his fucking it only made him lust for her more, made his dick hurt not being inside of her little slit. Grasping his swollen member in his hand he rubbed it against her already tender lips. She moaned, a pained-pleasure expression stretching across her face.

He enjoyed sex more with the witch than with his wife, Gloria. Gloria was not as open and was also unable to take in the length and girth of his rod. She was dutiful and did well enough, but she never opened to his desires as Rowan did. Randolph wondered if it was because of their connection, him being the messenger. He didn't know for sure but in the end, it did not matter. He loved his wife for different reasons. Gloria took care of him and his home, supported him when he needed it, kicked his ass when he needed it more. She would allow him to take her as often as he pleased, and he did, but he reserved those times for gentle lovemaking. For making her feel special in return for all that she gave him.

When he needed true sexual release he would go to Rowan or to his new toy if it was more urgent.

Randolph rubbed the head of his cock against Rowan's pussy lips, they were still soaked in her own cum. He positioned his member and he pushed in with a grunt. The force of stretching the walls of her pussy sent more spasms through her body, and she moaned again.

"Ahhh...ahhh...fuck," she came immediately.

Randolph whispered into Rowan's ear, "do you like it when I fuck you? When I put my dick into the Devil's pussy?" He reached up, intertwined his left hand into her hair, pulled a little more than gently. "Do you like being used?"

The rough talk always made Rowan hotter, more eager. She loved the abuse, she loved the pained-pleasure, the serving she did to her Messenger to please him. She came again with Randolph's hot breath on her ear; her jaw slack and a quiet moan escaped. She felt the power in his thrusts, the force pushing against her pussy. While it drained her, it made her feel alive.

Randolph started a rhythm with his hips, forcing the entirety of his dick into her tiny hole. He was nine inches long, nearly three inches wide, and the small lips of her swollen pussy swallowed him easily. She could feel the walls of her cunt envelope his rod, feel his girth inside of her, stretching her out.

As he pumped away, her juices leaking out of her, the orgasm started to build. Rowan's arms came up from the furs to rest around his body, her nails digging into his flesh. Randolph bent to her, his teeth skimming against her jaw, biting at her ear, a growl in his throat. He fucked her pussy relentlessly, thrashing inside without hesitation. He couldn't actually hurt her, as she healed herself easily enough. She left herself open to him, letting Randolph take her the way that he pleased.

With his hard cock inside of her pumping without resistance, she begged for more, moaning his name like she was chanting to the gods. Rowan dug her nails into him, the scent of blood that only she could smell pierced the air. She could taste the metal and it drove her closer to the edge. Blood worship was always her favorite addition to their sex. She dug her nails in deeper; he drove his dick in harder. As drops of blood began to drip down his body she came violently, urging him to keep going.

"Fuck me, harder Randolph, harder. Don't stop. Ahhhh...ahhhh...ah!"

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she screamed out; Randolph continued to pump her pussy until he could not handle it anymore. He came inside her, his seed filling her completely.

Randolph was drained, exhausted from fucking his Master. He removed his dick from her, balanced over top of her for a moment long enough to kiss her deeply. Pulling his mouth away from hers he asks if he is forgiven for disobeying her, as he collapses on his back beside her.

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