The Witch and the Demon
Ysabel the Witch Part One
The witch had known me for many years and had encouraged a certain waywardness in my demeanour for which the Friar and my mother had oftentimes admonished me. People called the witch Auntie Agnes, typically just Auntie. I was always impressed by how everyone treated her with respect, even nobles came to her for help, and I had seen the Prior visit her a number of times. How she helped them I did not know, certainly not at first.
My father had named me Ysabel, although my mother disapproved. He had apprenticed as a blacksmith, but then served with King Henry as a sergeant in France, where I suspect he had been with a girl called Ysabel. My mother called me Izzie, which she considered a nice simple name. The witch Agnes called me Belle. She said in French it meant “beautiful,” and in turn she told me to call her Agnes, which was a rare honour.
Agnes filled my head with many things that my mother found irksome, and for which I would be regularly birched. My father was always supportive of anything I wanted to do, but was also very supportive of my mother birching me, which I think he found amusing. He told me it was my mother’s way of showing that she loved me.
“She is your mam and she loves you,” he would say. “So whenever she finds out you’ve been at anything she takes a disliking to, you must submit to her love taps without whining and whinging. Understood?”
“Yes, da,” I would say, for he was right, and so I would take my whacks without complaint, even when she was especially peeved and she lifted my kirtle and beat my bare arse.
Agnes taught me to read and write, she even had me copying books in Latin, of which I developed some understanding. My mother stopped punishing me for this when Agnes sold a book I had copied and I brought home a small bag of silver “for my dowry.” The things my mother never forgave me for were running, fighting with boys, and dancing in the strange ways that Agnes had taught me. My father was partly at fault for the fighting, as he had taught me to punch and where to kick a boy to convince him to leave you alone. However, he knew he was in the wrong and as usual enjoyed seeing the stripes on my bare arse. Bareness was also a problem, as Agnes encouraged me to be very comfortable with my body, and I would often run, swim, and even dance naked when I visited her secluded cottage.
Of the other strange things that Agnes had me do, perhaps the strangest was holding a carrot in my mouth with the tip in my throat. At first I gagged and retched but she was insistent that it was a useful skill, and eventually I could practically swallow quite large carrots, holding them in my throat for as long as was wished providing I could breathe. I never knew for what purpose this was a useful skill for until much later.
So it was that when I came of age all the boys were too afraid of me to come courting. The Friar actually approved of that as my father often took me to help when he worked in the Abbey, and it seemed beneficial that the young novices would run in horror at my approach as they feared me like they feared the devil. People said I was pretty, with dark curling hair and green eyes, and also quite petite, so physically not too intimidating in appearance. But certain urges were not being met, except possibly by my mother’s regular discipline.
So one day after I had come of age, when the desire to feel pleasure was strong, Agnes introduced me to the source of her power. Below her home was a large chamber, with a stone floor and one huge slab of stone making most of one wall.
“You might not have noticed that big stone in the wall of my cottage, with all the ivy on the outside and the books and herbs on the inside, but the wall was built around that stone. It’s a menhir, part of an ancient sacred place, it may have been a small circle once, see the other big upright stones in the wall?”
As she said, there were indeed other large stones in each of the walls, with smaller stones building the wall between. The floor also had one large slab, with smaller cobbles around it. A small trickle of water ran along a channel in the floor. At the centre of the room was a large iron brazier, where she set up a fire. Agnes took a piece of chalk and scribed a device on the large stone in the wall. It was a five pointed star, with numerous other devices inscribed about it.
The witch set about a ritual, chanting in many languages, but in my language calling on the water, the fire, the wind, and the earth to summon something or other, I knew not what. This went on for some time, with me standing as a passive and very bored observer. It was almost as dreary as going to the Abbey chapel.
But then I could sense a strange feel to the air, similar to the intensity of a thunderstorm. The star on the stone started to glow as Agnes continued to chant, becoming brighter and brighter as she uttered the spell. I heard a voice, near yet also distant. A man’s voice speaking in a strange language. He was very angry and shouted in pain. The entire star glowed now including the areas between the lines, and then I could see the shape of a man form in the light. It was as though he was bound within the pentagram, with four limbs and his head extended in each of the five points of the star. The light faded, but the man remained, naked and bound to the stone.
The man’s skin was dark as though he had spent long in the sun, black was the hair on his head and in his short beard. His eyes were grey and filled with anger, glaring with fury at Agnes.
“You crone!” he shouted when he saw Agnes. She smiled.
“Belle, come and meet Lord Zababa. He looks human, but he is really a demon.”
“I was worshipped as a god, you whore!” he shouted. But I was fascinated by Zababa, the first naked man I had ever seen, and I was drawn to him. He was strongly built, like a powerful warrior, with well-muscled limbs. My hand went out involuntarily to touch the smooth hot skin on his broad muscled chest.
“Who is this strumpet?” he said of me, his voice filled with vitriol. The passion and power of his glance moved me in ways I had not been moved before.
“Now, now, Zababa. Be nice. I think Belle is very pretty, just your type. And if you are lucky, she may be as much of a strumpet as you hope. Go on dear, take off your kirtle gown and dance for Lord Zababa.”
I tended to do whatever Agnes told me, but especially wished to please this commanding creature which she had summoned. I looked nervously into his eyes, and then saw how his taught powerful muscles flexed against the invisible bonds that tied him to the stone. He was so compelling, I dread to think what he would do to me if he was unbound, but the idea also aroused me deeply. I pulled my dress over my head and stood before him naked.
My breast heaved with excitement as he looked over me, as though the heat of his glance was the firm touch of his hand on my skin. Then my body started to move as though by itself. Agnes had taught me the motions, but now I was irresistibly compelled to writhe sensuously before him, moving through the air like an adder moving through the grass. I clapped a beat as my hips and torso bent and wriggled. Moving closer to him.
Being a country girl, I know how creatures mate, and I had witnessed it amongst the cattle and horses often times before. So as I writhed I was excited to see his cock rise, the blood pulsing through it making it sway as it stiffened. I stopped and stared at it, mesmerised by its equine majesty.
“Go and give it a feel,” said Agnes. “I can see you want to. Kneel down in front of him and get a good look.” The demon’s expression had changed along with the disposition of his nethers, and he seemed please when I knelt in front of him. I cupped his bollocks in my small soft hands. They were so hot and smooth and heavy. It was rather enjoyable to gently play with them.
“Look up into his eyes, my dear. He will like that.” I did as she ordered, and indeed his eyes seemed less angry. His words were still harsh, however.
“You little slut! If I ever get my hands on you I will make you pay!”
“What would you do to me, My Lord Zababa, Sire?” It seemed appropriate to give him as noble a title as I could think of, which I think pleased him. I continued to fondle his scrotum with one hand, and wrapped my hand around his hot stiff cock with the other. I tried to look into his eyes as instructed, but glanced down to watch the vein-stretched member pulse into increasing stiffness. The throb of it in my hand as I stroked up and down the silky soft flesh was increasingly arousing, and I delighted in the throbbing ridges and bulging veins.
“You will wear the collar of a slave for a thousand years, slut! Every day I would bind you like this and flog you, strumpet! I will have armies of ogres and trolls fill your cunte and your arse every day, whore!”
“Oh, My Lord Zababa, Sire. I am sure you could do anything you want with me.”
“Yes! You are my slave! Obey your Master and free me! Or I will torture you for hours! Days! I will make you suffer until you submit to me completely, you little slut!”
“I’m not really a slut, My Lord. I have never been with a man. But I can’t help myself with you. Even when you are restrained like this I feel overpowered by your masterful authority. I just want to please you in any way I can. I am your slut only, My Lord and Master.”
“Then release me, little slut!”
“I don’t know how, My Lord. I would if I could, so that you could do whatever you want with me. Oh Sire, your cock is so big and hard now!” I was fascinated by the majestic throbbing weapon. Both of my small soft hands were on it now, pulling back the skin from the gleaming shiny pink head. It looked so nice, I wanted to kiss it, and hold it in my mouth.
“Suck my cock, slave! Obey your Master”
“Yes, My Lord and Master.” Eagerly I bent forward and opened my mouth around it, my tongue reaching along the shaft. It was so soft and hot, I loved the feel of it on my lips and tongue. I continued to gently stroke it with one hand while fondling his balls with the other, and looked up into his eyes to make sure I was doing it right. It seemed that I was doing it very well indeed.
“You have not done this before, my little slut?”
“No, My Lord.”
“Show him what you can do, my dear,” Agnes said behind me, as I felt her hand firmly push my head forward onto his cock. The huge throbbing member sank deep into my throat, right up to the soft pendulous testicles. The demon growled deeply, the resonance vibrating all the way down my throat and into my body, but this was not a growl of anger. I looked up and his face was contorted in ecstasy as my throat worked around his cock. I pushed away to inhale, and then Agnes thrust me onto his cock again. She gripped my hair, and started a rhythm of thrusting and pulling as I sucked his hot delicious phallus.
The demon groaned as the witch pushed and pulled my head so that the demon’s shaft slid in and out of my throat, and I could taste his precum in my mouth as his body writhed and pulled at his restraints. The majesty of his power built up as Agnes thrust my head onto his cock with increasing rapidity until with a colossal below a fountain of cum exploded from the shaft. The first shot went down my throat, but Agnes quickly pulled me away and held a cup under the gushing phallus to collect the cum as it pulsed out. With one hand she milked the member of every last drop of cum as the demon swore at her, although with a lot less energy than when he arrived.
Agnes was quite satisfied, making sure that she even scraped off the drops of cum on my chin and titties. I licked my lips, wishing I could have more of it inside me, and looked up at him hungrily, my hands reaching up the taught muscles of his thighs. But then Agnes grabbed my hand, and pulled me to my feet and away from him. He smiled at me.
“Sorry, Belle. Maybe next time.”
With one word and a wave of her hand the smiling demon sank back into the stone and disappeared.
“Shite!” I said, filled with disappointment.
“Sorry, they only have one good shot in them for my purposes and it takes a lot of power to keep them here against their will.”
“But perhaps he wanted to stay!”
“Oh no! I’m afraid I have used Zababa too often to trust him! You might be safe with him if you please him, which I reckon you would, but I don’t want to repay the past inconveniences I have inflicted on him!” I stood there and pouted, feeling very frustrated.
“Now Belle!” Agnes admonished. “Tomorrow I will teach you to summon something to cheer you up. Maybe something small. A nice pooka or something. You have swallowed a demon’s seed and you are a witch now. It is time for you to start using your power to get you what you want.”
I thought for a while, and then I realised something, realisation dawning on my face.
“The carrots! Now I know what that was for!”
“Smart girl. Tomorrow we will see if the pooka enjoys it, they are very well endowed for their size.” And with that I grabbed my dress, and we went upstairs for cake and mulled wine.
