If the Broom Fits - Cover

If the Broom Fits

Copyright© 2019 by Armera Llsehi

Chapter 27

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 27 - Penelope is not your typical witch. She has her passions and her love for life. And sure, she messes things up a little her and there but that is neither here nor there. But when one of those mess ups leads them on a journey to fix it, not everything is so simple. But it's not the destination, it's the journey...

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Fairy Tale   Humor   Paranormal   Furry   Anal Sex   Cream Pie   Double Penetration   Oral Sex   Public Sex  

So what was that about last night?

“I don’t know,” Penelope says, gazing up at the trees along the path. “At least we’re out of that dark forest. The birds are even singing.”

Don’t change the subject. And don’t talk about birds. You know I can’t chase after them.

“I really don’t know,” she repeats. “Do you really think he would have eaten us?”

Of course he would have. He was a vampire. All that could have been avoided if the vampire hunter would have done his job.

“I wonder where he went.”

Ran off scared is where he went.

“Fan off scared isn’t a place.”

You know what I mean.

“Oohh, do you think that’s the place we’re supposed to go?” the witch asks, pointing to a large stronghold. “That place looks scary.”

It’s probably meant to. And if it’s meant to be scary then I can only imagine what lives inside.

“Whatever it is it must be powerful because my father obviously couldn’t stop it from stealing the book.”

Now that you bring it up, there is something fishy there.

“I don’t smell anything,” the witch says, sniffing the air.

What?

“I don’t smell any fish,” she says. “I mean I think I picked up your keen sense of smell. But you’re the cat I suppose. You were born one.”

I was, and let’s not get mixed up with that again.

“Then why did you bring up smell?”

I didn’t. You did. I said the situation was fishy.

“I thought you said the stronghold had fish there.”

No. I mean why would something go into a high wizard’s castle, steal just one book and leave?

“Maybe it wanted a copy like us?”

Not likely, because tomes aren’t duplicated. There is only one of each kind... ever.

“I didn’t know that.”

There appears to be a lot you don’t.

“I’m only...”

Yes, a third year student and they haven’t taught you that yet.

“Yeah...”

Let’s just get to the stronghold and wrench this book from whoever has it.

“You make it sound so dirty,” Penelope says, a smile spreading over her face.

By the fucking gods...


“I think someone needs to do a little gardening, maybe spruce the place up a bit,” the witch comments, coming up to the door past two large, looming gargoyle statues. “Plus it’s a little creepy with all these statues.”

We’re’ trying to get a book, we may have to fight some crazy witch and you’re worried about the exterior decoration?

“Well, I would call it decoration, but can you imagine the interior?”

If Hazel could shake her head in silence, she would. While it is true that the place could use some sprucing up, what with all the overgrowth on the statues and of the plants, the heavy vines crawling toward the sky using the castle walls as a ladder, that isn’t important right now.

“I mean look at these statues,” she continues.

I have looked at them. They’re all scary looking, probably meant to ward off thieves in the night.

“But have you seen how atomically correct they are?”

Actually, their dicks look bigger than they should.

“You’re right,” the girl agrees. “But maybe they’re not bigger than they should me. Maybe gargoyles have really big dicks.”

You should a little too excited. All I can say is thankfully there are no such things as real live, breathing gargoyles.

“Why would that be bad?”

Aren’t vampires enough?

“I suppose,” she says, her mind beginning to wonder.

Don’t start imagining again. Let’s just get this over with.

“Should we knock?”

And let anyone and everything know we’re here? Maybe you should see if it’s open already.

“That’s stupid is they just left the door open,” Penelope says, frowning. “Besides, they probably know that we’re already here.”

They could or they couldn’t, you never know until you try.

Penelope raises her hand push at the door. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The voice is loud and deep and behind her. She spins around quickly. “Who’s there?”

Great, ghosts...

“I feel like suddenly saying that I do believe in ghosts over and over,” the witch murmurs.

“I’m no ghost, the voice says.

Puzzled, the girl looks around the courtyard, specifically at the shadows. There is not a single person in sight. The only things with her, besides Hazel, are the statues. “Alright, enough games,” she says, trying to add an edge to her voice. “Come out and face me.”

Come out and face me? You were just worried about what’s in the castle, now you want to fight what’s outside it.

“I’m not worried.”

Yeah? Sounds like it with all that talk about décor.

“And dicks,” the witch adds. “I was talking about their dicks.”

Whatever...

“Do you like mine?” the voice asks.

Don’t even let your mind go in that direction.

But Hazel is completely ignored. “I don’t know,” Penelope calls out. “Where are you?”

“Right in front of you,” the voice says, and this time the statue of the gargoyle twists and turns on its perch toward her.

The witch is startled and she steps back a bit to bump into the door. “Um ... are you going to hurt me?”

It’s times like this I wish you were more than just a third year student. Can’t you do something powerful like whatever you did to that vampire?

“I don’t think it works that way,” she whispers.

“I will only hurt you if your intentions are to hurt my master,” the gargoyle states. “Are your intentions to do that?”

Of course they are.

“Of course they...”

No, don’t tell him that! Lie, damn you!

“Why would they be?”

“It is a question I must ask from all visitors,” the gargoyle says.

“How m-many get to enter?”

Why would you ask that?

“Not many,” the beast answers. “In fact, there have been none.”

“Well, I can tell you right n-now...” the witch says, trying to compose herself and stand up tall like a valiant hero. “ ... I am here on term of peace, seeking only knowledge, no trying anything at all, only...”

Alright, enough already. You’re pushing it...

“That is to be judged.”

“Judged?”

“I, Wasud, am head gargoyle of this garden,” the creature claims. “I have ways to root out your true intentions.” He stands to full height, towering over the girl.

Penelope’s eyes drop briefly to the spot between his legs. She grins, seeing it hang limply there. It is big, but flaccid. Her eyes jump up to his. “I-I can pass your t-test,” she says.

You were saying something about atomically correctness? This guy is a monster.

“So you think,” he says, glaring down at her. “Many before you have come here speaking the same. Every one of them has failed.”

“What’s y-your test?”

“You must give your body to me and I will be able to tell if you speak the truth ... if your intentions are as pure as you claim.”

Alternatives are available I’m sure...

The witch smiles to herself, knowing what I to come, especially when she glances down a second time to see the gargoyle at full attention this time. She looks up at the sky. It is dark, but there is not a cloud in the sky. The cold carries itself in the night time breeze. She shivers, but it isn’t from the cold. Penelope backs up to lean against the door of the stronghold, pulling the gargoyle by the hand toward her.

I said alternatives...

Penelope smiles up at the creature. “Promise to be gentle, Wasud...”

Gentle? Why do you have to fuck everything? Alternatives...

The gargoyle smiles and leans forward, wrapping his arms around the girl and kissing her. He feels her return his kiss. Wasud is warm despite his coming alive from stone. Unfortunately with all the fur covering her body, Penelope cannot quite feel what he feels like as she would if she was herself. But it doesn’t really matter, because soon she will feel him a different way. Her tongue lashes into his mouth and his lips surround her tongue. The girl mewls softly.

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