The Witch's Store

A young man took an energetic step outside, breathing in the fresh summer air. The streets were filled with the hustle and bustle of shopping and leisure, all swinging to the tune of the uptown groove.

In this town filled with life, so too was he. The feeling of being freed from work for the day always sent him into a warm joy, and today, he would be going to that special little place, a mysterious building, dim and covered in shades of violet. It was the witch's store.

He stumbled across it during one of his early days as a barista, seemingly out of chance. Walking out of the little cafe squished between all the bigger places on main street, he was filled with adventurous curiosity and decided to explore town. Down, down the street and around the corner, he figured he had reached the end of the all the action, but just out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the place, Maple's Witchcraft & Books. He wasn't one to believe in magic or anything of the sort, but through the window, he saw something peculiar:

A woman with a pretty face with a dangerously bored expression.

On his first visit in, he learned that she was indeed named Maple, and she was a witch, or at least, referred to herself in that way.

Not to mention, that pretty face of hers was even better up close. It may have been because of his nature as a man, or perhaps it was all a part of her spell, but regardless, he felt the urge to see her again today.

Though he was filled with vigor, he opened the door slowly, as the atmosphere seemed to demand it. Once again, the witch was sitting at her counter, looking for something to do. But when she saw the man come in again, her bored expression changed into an acutely interested one.

"Come back for more, have you?" she said, giving him a smile that was guilty of melting more than a few hearts.

As a woman, she was certainly well-endowed, and if her dress told anything, it's that she was well aware. Her hair was, fitting to her name, an autumnal orange, silky smooth and flowing in such a way that heightened her whole appearance.

It was her eyes, though, that seemed to captivate the man. They were a dark scarlet, and filled with the passion of life, yet they also seemed to be a dark void that one could lose themselves in if they weren't careful.

"You might say that" the man replied.

He flipped casually through one of the books on the counter, a decently sized tome that the witch had likely been reading before. It talked of humans and souls and magic, though he couldn't exactly comprehend what any of it was about, nor did he care.

"What's all this about 'magic' and souls, hm?" he said, running his hand through his hair, trying to warm her up to conversation.

"How would a guy like me use magic?"

She gave a sly grin, like a cat entertaining a clever little mouse.

"You don't, silly. All that energy your soul makes is used up for your consciousness. You'd need... to take more souls for real magic. But I won't go into all that. Why don't you just keep reading these books you seem to love so much while I go stock these ones?"

The man agreed, resuming his peruse through a world he knew nothing about. But it was hardly half a minute before his eyes turned from the tome to the witch, lifting books off her cart and into the shelves. She moved graciously, with her shapely ass tightening against her dress every time she put another one back.

Perhaps she knew he was looking, but if she did, she didn't say a thing.

"You know, these rituals and potions look real terrifying," the man said from the counter, noticing that she was about done, "do you really do it all? Have you ever taken a soul, hm?"

"Since you're a returning customer, I suppose I could tell you..."

She walked back over to him, standing close, "Of course I have. And I'd be glad to take yours, too."

They held each other in an affectionate gaze, paused in time. The man was astounded, aroused, and obsessed all at once, wondering if he could hold back his desires, or if they would overcome him.

"Well, aren't you something?" the witch said, breaking the silence.

The young man was confused at first, but then he noticed that whatever page in the book he had flipped to last contained a rather graphic image of a magical ritual involving a pair of lovers engaged in passionate sex.

"A-ah, this-- I didn't even notice! Well, I mean--"

She laughed purely, and he chuckled shyly in response. Though he had tried to look confident from the moment he walked in, she found his embarrassed face to be cuter.

"You know, I've got just the thing for naughty boys like you... Why don't you give it a taste?"

She reached for a vial of pinkish liquid off the counter, lined up with all the other potions in her stock. No doubt, it was some kind of witch's aphrodisiac. When she popped the cork off the top, the sweet and intoxicating scent of berries overcame the man.

"You do believe in magic, don't you?" She said.

Now, he wasn't the type to ingest such dubious liquids, nor did he believe in the power of such a thing as an aphrodisiacal potion. And yet, he believed in her and her words that had sent him into another level of excitement, a feeling he could not pass up on.

He nodded in agreement, and she lifted the potion to his lips. When he finished, he didn't feel much different, but after a moment of gazing into her eyes for the first time this close, he felt his desires become needs.

Slowly, bashfully, he wrapped his hand around her back, and moved it down. As he settled into a firm grip on her ass, she stared into him, looking thoroughly pleased, as their heads moved ever closer to each other, until their lips were locked tightly against each other's.

Their bodies pressed against each other's, fighting in a battle of passion. Her body smelled of spice, and saccharine candles glowing in the dark. He moved his mouth down her neck, kissing her more, tasting her sweetness. She instructed him to unzip her dress, and it fell to the ground, revealing her black lace bra and thong. Without hesitation, she started to take off his clothes too, lowering herself to undo his belt and free him from his pants, at which point her intention came forth, right before her lips.

Amazed, the man wondered if this witch was really just a slut on the inside.

She used her mouth skillfully, methodically, kissing him, moving her tongue around the base, then the tip, pausing to let him relax for only a second, before passing the whole length of him through her lips, moving her head back and forth, slowly, then faster, faster, until he came in her mouth.

Bewildered from both the pleasure and the speed by which she had acted upon him, he could only stare deeper into her eyes as she stood up and led him to the sofa that was at one point meant for reading. He was pushed onto it, obeying her movements as she threw off his shirt, and then, her undergarments, flying somewhere near the cash register. She straddled his chest, giving him a good look at everything: her shining wet pussy, her slim and slightly toned stomach, and her swaying breasts which seemed to be filled with the light of life itself.

Covering his face with her hand, she slid her body forward until her dripping sex became his whole world, positioned above his mouth. He tried desperately to reach it, but she wouldn't let him, not yet.

She knew that the only thing he could think about was tasting her. That little confident act he had going on before was no more, he had given it all up to her, in return for all the pleasures she could give him. And, she liked it. In fact, this feeling of power was second to none for her.

As she finally, gracefully, lowered her lips towards his, he instinctively kissed her, then ran his tongue up and down her sex, savoring her at last, feeling her, gripping onto her hips with his hands. Even though he had just came, he was more aroused than ever before.

Her hands held his head in place as she swayed her hips, slowly at first, then faster, forcing the man beneath her to match her, going back and forth, over and over. He loved her clit, and let her know it, feeling it with his tongue, repeatedly, to the rhythm of their swing.

Crying out in staggered moans, the witch reached her climax, leaning back in pleasure while keeping his head tightly pressed against her.

"More, babe, I want... more..." she said.

He was more than prepared, his cock waving behind her, begging for attention. She lifted herself back to it, inserting just the tip inside her at first, then engulfing the entire thing into her pussy. To him, it felt like entering a new world of pleasure, one that only a witch could bring. The walls of her sex were even wetter than before, sliding up and down him with ease, and her breasts bounced to match each motion. He wanted to reach for them, but instead met with her hands along the way. They gripped his, tightly, unrelentingly.

At that moment, he felt something warm swell within his chest, perhaps, the effect of the aphrodisiac? It was something more than just an emotion, something that wanted to be let out of his body fiercely.

"Fuck, fuck, I want it, I fucking want it--!" she said greedily.

"God, yes... I'll give it to you!" the man said, not knowing anything except that he wanted to satisfy her.

As their crazed passion grew stronger, that feeling in his body started to rip itself away from his core, down towards the rest of him. It felt unnatural, violating in a way, but he didn't care. His hips moved uncontrollably as she moved hers, up and down, up and down, until that warmth made its way to his cock. At that moment, he realized exactly what that feeling was, something he saw in those books he flipped so carelessly through, something she already warned him of. But that thought only lasted a moment, as his whole lower body felt like it had been dipped in a furnace of passion, a feeling he wanted to never end.

"Nghh, say my name, say my fucking name!" she commanded.

"Maple--Maple!" he obeyed, "You're amazing, you're like a fucking sex goddess! Maple!!"

Memories of happiness, joyful times of playing in the autumn leaves, feeling the taste of first love, reaching success in life, all those emotions welled up inside him and begged to be released.

"Yes, yes, I feel it, give it to me! Give everything to me!"

As she screamed those words, her sex came down on him again and again, until he reached the point of no return. The warm feeling at his tip reached the apex as he gave his all inside her, reaching the greatest orgasm, and greatest pleasure, of his life. Simultaneously, the witch hit her climax, screaming in ecstasy as his cum filled her up -- along with his soul.

Covered in a hot sweat, she looked at the now dead and soulless man below her, his life having finally satisfied both her womanly and witch's desires.

"You belong to me now..."

She lifted her sex up off of him, hungrily holding in what he had given her. Without a doubt, this man's eternal soul would serve as another source of energy for even more powerful magic.

With a swish of her hand, and the magic word, "poof!" the witch cast a spell, and the man's body disappeared as if it was never there. Like a cat, she stretched herself over the sofa he had laid in just a moment ago, fully nude, rubbing herself with her delicate fingers, basking in the afterglow of it all. As she lay there, a casual thought came to her mind.

"Huh. I never even got his name."

She just laughed, as pure as ever.

---

Somewhere, in the depths of her existence, a man's soul regained a fraction of what you would call consciousness. He could not remember his life, his aspirations, or the world itself, even.

Instead, all around him, he felt warmth, her warmth, surrounding him in a blanket of pleasure. Every so often, his whole being shuddered from something that resembled an orgasm, and he felt his energy be drained from him, as he once again lost consciousness.

Falling back into the endless cycle of dreams, the only thing he could think of was the one he gave everything to, and that he was hers forever.