The Greatest Witch Hunter

She grabbed the front of my trousers in a rather sensitive spot, fortunately grasping only fabric, lifting my hips with surprising ease. Extracting my wallet and opening it, she gasped, "Phineas? Is it you? It can't be. It can't be!"

She moved to the head of the table and looked closely at my face. "It is you! How is this possible? You died eighty-five years ago!" She spotted the gold chain around my neck and pulled on it, freeing the amulet. "I know this amulet. I gave it to you. Phineas, you've come back to me!"

She must think I am my great-grandfather. Laying here paralyzed on the table of the witch who killed him, those were not words I wanted to hear. What have I gotten myself into? No one knows I am a prisoner here. There will be no rescue or escape.

Grabbing my jaw, she turned my face towards her and yelled, "Who resurrected you? How did they do it?"

I was uncertain of the resemblance, but Morgana seemed not to notice. Facing certain death, I needed to buy time, and her curiosity about my supposed resurrection might be the currency I needed. Fresh in my mind, I replayed journal highlights of the 1938 encounter. Looking closely at her left arm, I saw a scar beneath her lace sleeve, connecting it back to my great-grandfather's story. "Indeed, Queen of Darkness, I have returned to track you down. I see you still haven't concealed the nick from my blade." She hissed. I kept talking, "This time, you won't be able to conjure up a hurricane to save yourself."

She snarled back, "Are you eager to challenge me again? Every witch hunter who has dared face me is dead." Nearly in hysterics, she yelled at me, "You were dead, I know you were dead. Tell me what happened?"

Fearing her anger, but knowing my hope lay in her curiosity, "If you want to know, you should not have abandoned me on the street."

Her eyes burned with flame. "I will make you talk!"

"Should I capture you and hold a witch trial here in Salem?" I calmly replied.

She laughed and said, "Capture me? It is I who captured you at Belvedere Castle."

My goal was to remain alive until tomorrow, when the paralyzing powder wore off. I decided to continue my ruse as the elder Phineas, with more tough talk. "When I grow tired of your little games, I'll get up, walk out of here, and take your spell book with me."

She sneered back, "You will tell me the secret of your resurrection and anything else I ask." She went over to a cabinet and opened it. The door blocked my view, but I heard a tinkling sound. She emerged with a small clear glass containing a brown liquid. "This potion has loosened men's tongues for over two hundred years." She forced my mouth open and poured in the liquid, then pinched both my mouth and nose shut. The hideous concoction tasted of smoke and iodine and seaweed. "It will only take a few minutes to work."

She saw me resisting, moved her face closer to mine, and looked me in the eyes. "Enough of this foolish game, Phineas. Kiss me like you did when we first met!" She pressed her lips against mine, forcing her tongue between them and deep into my mouth. Our tongues battled, warm and soft, pressing against each other. I could not prevent her from spreading the fiery liquid around.

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Chapter 8 - Is It You?

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What just happened? I have no idea how my great-grandfather kissed her, but I thought it best to respond with all the passion I could muster, so I kissed her back with equal intensity. It was insanely difficult, knowing I was kissing the monstrous witch who killed my great-grandfather. Yet I succumbed to the warmth and softness of her lips, her impassioned efforts, the smell of her perfume, and her silky-smooth hair against my cheek. I hated myself for enjoying this moment.

She unlocked her lips from mine. "I missed you so much, Phineas."

I replied, "What was the foul swill you gave me?"

"It's your punishment, Phineas. It's Scottish whiskey, something named Laphroaig."

"It tastes like burnt seaweed." I remembered my great-grandfather being trapped in the hotel by the hurricane and wrote about their well-stocked bar. "By chance, would you happen to have some decent Irish Whiskey?"

"Absolutely. I keep the good stuff upstairs. We can enjoy some later."

I feared she would continue pressing me about my supposed resurrection, so I tried to change the subject. Speaking of potions, I tried this, "'double, double, toil and trouble; Fire burn and cauldron bubble'."

She smiled. A genuine one, not a mocking one. I wondered, then kept going, "'for a charm of powerful trouble, like a hell-broth boil and bubble.'"

She replied, "Are you trying to seduce me again with Shakespeare, Phineas?"

Seduction? It was not my goal, but she was quite beautiful, and the thought was not wholly unpleasant. But I needed to escape. What if I treated her like a woman instead of a dark witch? It worked for my great-grandfather, at least for a while. Could the Bard open her cold dead heart? I had worked at a Renaissance Faire while in college and read quite a bit for inspiration, but as the words spun around within my brain, they were covered in rust. I tried one of my favorite pickup lines from college, twisting it slightly, "'I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say I love you, Morgana'."

She responded to my efforts, "Henry V, Act 5, Scene 2. 'If music be the food of love, play on'."

It was working! I knew the line, so I replied, "Twelfth Night, Act 1, Scene 1."

"'Love will not be spurred to what it loathes'" she said.

I had to turn my gambit away from loathing, "I loath thee not, Morgana, and pray thee feel the same. Trying to kill thee was a grievous mistake. 'the course of true love never did run smooth'."

She was warming to my efforts, "'Who ever loved that loved not at first sight'? I still cherish our first night together, Phineas. You were such a wonderful lover. I willingly gave thee my body, but afterward, when we held each other, talking, and quoted Shakespeare to each other, you forever won my heart."

It was getting interesting, but I was on very uncertain ground since my great-grandfather provided few details about their romantic liaison. "I sought thee out to be with thee again, Morgana."

"If thou wished to be with me, then why didst thou sneaketh into my basement?" she questioned.

"'A heart to love, and in that heart, Courage, to make one's love known'. I confess my lack of courage. How best to make my intentions known, after these many years. My own life might be forfeit if thee opened thine door and saw me as a spectral image rather than a man."

Her entire body relaxed and as she smiled, her face somehow became even lovelier. "'I would not wish any companion in the world but you', Phineas," but first, I must do one thing.

She unbuttoned my shirt and opened it, exposing my chest. She touched her left arm and gave me a mischievous look. "Right here, I still bear the scar you gave me and have worn it these many years. Even with my healing powers, the mark of your accursed blade remains. Before I can forgive thee, I am owed its equal. This will not hurt thee nearly as much as when thy dagger bit my flesh." She scratched my chest with a long fingernail, pushing it deep, drawing blood. "Now we are even."

"My intentions are sincere. I bear no weapons, Morgana."

"Your old dagger rests in my dining room, on my mantle, a keepsake of when last we met."

So, she did kill my great-grandfather and took his dagger! She refused to let me off the resurrection hook, "Who resurrected you?"

I had to be careful here, "I am not a witch, how would I know how to perform resurrections? One day I was not there, and the next I was."

Looking annoyed, she announced, "I will put away our conversation for now, but we shall revisit it later."

She continued, "You lied to me when you said you came with no weapon." She undid the zip on my trousers, reached in, and pulled out my cock. I felt the coolness of her fingers as they wrapped around my member. "Just as I remember. You brought this weapon, Phineas, easily the most dangerous of all to women. Pity you shall have no command of it until tomorrow."

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Chapter 9 - Another Use?

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"If questions cannot loosen your tongue, perhaps I can find another use for it," said Morgana. Bending over, she ducked out of sight for a moment. She bobbed back up, pulling her black dress up over her head and tossing it aside. Her black bra and panties followed, leaving her naked. She looked incredible, more than amazing, as she climbed onto the table and straddled my chest. Immediately in front of me was her hairless crotch. The smokey odor of her dark witch pheromones washed over me like a tsunami.

Under the influence of the tea, the smell drew me to her. I had to get nearer, to press my nose against her. To breathe her in. I thrashed my head and neck wildly about. She remained just inches away. I stuck out my tongue and lapped at the air. "Come closer," I yelled. "I beg of you, Morgana, come hither!"

"Those are the words every woman loves to hear, Phineas."

She rocked her hips side-to-side, her knees ever so slowly advancing until they passed by either side of my head. Her torso remained fully vertical, her pussy floating directly above my face, just out of reach. She ran her hands sensuously over her inner thighs. Extending the motion, she brought them together over her pussy, before slowly moving them up her torso. They continued higher, circling her wonderfully perfect breasts before returning to her thighs and repeating the motion. Slow, sensual, sexy, fabulous.

"Are you getting ready, Phineas?"

Seconds later, her pussy descended towards my face. As it lowered, my face rose upward to meet her. I did not want my head trapped against the hard stone. My nose grazed against her labia and I inhaled the essence of a burning building. If smoke were the only thing, I would simply have choked and turned away. There was more here, much more. It lured me on like a bee to honey. An intense mixture of fragrances and odors like the redolence of a forest after a rain. I extended my tongue, searching for the opening between her folds. I began lapping at her pussy like a frenzied dog. The attraction of her dark witch's pheromones blocked all thoughts of soft or gentle. I wanted to smell and taste and take in everything within reach.

Her labia responded quickly, darkening in color as her outer lips puffed up and her inner lips slipped down in between. I opened my mouth and took them in, running my tongue over, under, and all around, tracing the scalloped edges. Her clit began peeking out from under its hood. Morgana shifted slightly, her bum muscles alternately tensing and relaxing. She leaned slightly forward, offering me with a magnificent view of her dangling breasts. I watched her left hand move up and across, cupping her right breast, starting a gentle circular motion around her areola. My tea-addled brain was receiving signals from my nose and commanding, 'More! More! I must have more!'

I could feel my cock growing and feared her discovery of it. I moved straight to her clit, attempting to bring her to a quick orgasm. Forming my tongue into a point, I began a series of tight small licks, outlining her clitoral hood, hoping to draw my prize out. When it fully emerged, I lapped up and down against it, covering both clit and hood. Her stomach muscles tightened, and she began rocking her hips, pressing against my tongue.

Morgana lowered herself, my neck muscles unable to match, easily driving the back of my head against the hard stone table. She began grinding her pussy against my face, moving back and forth over it. She was in full control, her pussy sliding between my nose, tongue, and chin, pressing me downward to meet her desires. I was amazed at how her inner lips formed to my features as she moved. She smeared my beard with her juices, allowing her to glide easily across it. She slid even further down my face, sometimes slipping off entirely. Then she pushed forward, slowed her hip movements, and began pressing her pussy against the point of my chin and started humping against it!

"Uhhh! Nice!"

Soon sated from this motion, she rose and re-settled the opening of her vagina over my mouth. I pushed my tongue up to greet it. Both her hands moved downward and teasingly rubbed her clit against my nose. She rocked backward, driving my tongue deeper into her, then forward. She kept the rocking motion going, and I could feel contractions building against my face.

"Ohhh! Uhhh! Phineas! Ahhh!" A surge of viscous fluid dropped into my mouth, leaving no doubt of her orgasm.

"Your oral skills have greatly improved, Phineas," she announced, looking down at me through heavy breaths. "But there is something more. Your desire to please me. You must have really missed me. It felt so erotic to be licked by someone back from the dead."

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Chapter 10 - Cocos Nucifera

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Morgana swung her leg over me and worked herself toward the table edge. Hopping off, she turned to face me again, only this time, she stood near my partially erect penis. "My, my, Phineas. It does look like you enjoyed this, too."

I could not deny her words. "I thought you said I had no control over my penis."

"You don't. Your partial erection is only because of blood flow. You can't move the muscles in your pelvic area, including the ones used for orgasm and ejaculation."

The naked Morgana walked to her worktable and picked up a modest-sized stone crock. Returning, she set it down near my hips. "Let's see if we can improve this pitiful erection. I'm going to try some Cocos Nucifera." Her hand dipped below my line of sight, and her fingers emerged a moment later, covered in a thick white cream. The cooling combination of cream and her slender fingers hit my cock. She began slowly rubbing.

The name sounded ominous! And worse, the white cream was disappearing! I panicked. "What is this foul stuff you are putting on me? Why is it disappearing? Is it going inside my cock? What manner of dark magic are you inflicting me with?"

"Relax, Phineas. Cocos Nucifera is coconut oil. I keep some down here for making coconut oil soap. Don't you agree it does wonders for my complexion?"

I breathed a sigh of relief, then realized my penis was growing as her hands moved up and down the slick shaft. Morgana continued rubbing, mixing in a gentle tickle on my balls and the underside of my cock. I watched as her breasts swung gently from side to side. Her perfect face smiled as she looked at me. Before long, my cock stood straight up, as large as I had ever seen it.

"This is the cock I remember from our night together at the Hawthorne."

Morgana climbed back onto the table, assuming a squatting position over my hips. I knew what was coming, and from what she said, I wouldn't be the one doing the coming. Grasping my cock, she rubbed the head against her soft labia, already moist from our earlier efforts. It felt so amazing.

She stared at me intently. Her face was so perfect, dark eyebrows arching gracefully outward from her slender nose. Her lips, not large, formed a captivating smile, incredibly sexy, before turning up slightly at the outer edges. Her narrow, angled chin tapered toward her high cheekbones, which enjoyed a natural blush from our sexual activity. Her whole face was framed in dark black hair, parted just to one side, and her curls had just enough bounce to follow her movements.

My cock kept feeding me extremely pleasurable sensations, but it somehow felt detached from my body. I had no control, thrusting, or connection to it, as if it were a remote sensor on a distant planet, sending faraway signals back to my brain. I wondered how many victims had been in the same place as me, used by Morgana and her coven for their erotic pleasure. Unable to orgasm, unable to ejaculate, yet under constant arousal. It must have been maddening. And now it was happening to me!

She rose, using her hand to position my cock at the entrance to her vagina, and slowly lowered herself onto me. I do not doubt she could have taken me all the way down but chose not to. Instead, she was using small down movements before rising again. Then down a little further and back up. It was as if she wanted every centimeter of her vagina and my cock, to experience the same pleasure.

Her breasts moved up and down from heavier breathing. She locked her eyes intently onto mine, like a feral cat onto its prey. She had about half my cock covered, leaned slightly forward, and rotated her hips as if her pussy were searching for something. A gasp! Her G-spot found my cock! Keeping the same angle, her up and down motion resumed, at a more rapid pace. I could feel Morgana's pussy as it gripped my cock, clamping tight. Each up move felt like she was trying to capture my cock as her prize and tug it away from me. Each down move was a wonderful combination of friction and slickness within the walls of her vagina.

I felt my foot twitch. How? As she rode me, I flexed my foot. Then I moved my little finger. I was regaining muscle control. Then I realized the problem. My cock was deep inside Morgana, enjoying the best sex of my life! My eyes locked onto a woman of unnatural beauty. My ears received her cries of pleasure. My brain was processing the entire erotic scene. I felt my cock twitch. I was going to orgasm!

I heard her moans grow louder and felt her vagina contracting. She was very close. But so was I. I tried to fight it. I had to fight it. She moaned. She cooed. I failed. Her eyes closed, her mouth opened, and her head tilted back. "Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" Her orgasm hit as my ball sack tightened, my pelvic muscles tensed, and despite all my efforts, my twitching cock sent a load up into Morgana's pulsating pussy. Did she feel it?

Morgana fell forward onto my chest, and my cock slipped out of her pussy. Her breasts pressed against me, and she lifted her head. "Phineas. Oh, Phineas. I want to keep you here forever. Please, don't do something stupid this time and get yourself killed."

I confirm every sexual platitude my great-grandfather wrote about Morgana. And like him, I wished I had met her under other circumstances. I could not help but wonder what stupid thing my great-grandfather did to make Morgana kill him, especially since doing something stupid was exactly what I had in mind.

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Chapter 11 - Return From Wonderland

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"Well, Phineas, you have left me quite sticky, and I wish to freshen up with a nice hot bath. I'd invite you to join me, but I'm afraid you'll have to remain here. I'll be down after. Don't go away," she laughed.

After Morgana left, I tested both arms, my legs, and my feet. They moved! I was no longer paralyzed. Somehow, Morgana was wrong! The sound of water flowing through the old pipes meant Morgana was starting her bath. Now was my chance, possibly the only one I would get. Lifting my bum, I squirmed to the table edge, swung my legs off, and slid to the floor, landing on my feet. They held.

I figured Morgana would not return for at least thirty minutes, and my still erect cock needed relief. Looking around, I saw her dress lying on the floor. Picking it up, I wiped her juices from my face. My cock remained erect, crying out for release, and as the fabric passed over my nose, the scent of her perfume lingered and was all I needed. I began stroking. The floral scent of perfume! The silky fabric! The alluring dark witch smell. Flashes of Morgana's magnificent body! Then, an uncontrollable ripple and surge as the muscles in my crotch expelled the remainder of what I withheld earlier. Wiping my cock with her dress, I threw the garment on the floor.

Looking around, I saw her open spell book, like the one Lizbet's mother had. What secrets might Morgana's spell book hold? Remembering magical books cannot be opened without a special incantation, I picked up Morgana's panties and wedged them between the open pages so the book would not close. I pushed it out the basement window and climbed out after it. By keeping against the side of the house and using the bushes for cover, I reached the street and headed for the tea shoppe.