Witch Switch
Copyright© 2019 by Armera Llsehi
Chapter 9
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 9 - "Oops, I did it again" would describe Penelope's attitude to how her life always seems to go, at least when it comes to magic. With their journey barely a thing of the past, the witch and her familiar are tossed right back into another. This time the destination is more important than the journey...or is it...?
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Magic Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Paranormal non-anthro Anal Sex Cream Pie Oral Sex
Once again, when Penelope goes to open her eyes, she is wrapped in the comfort of a nice, warm bed. Her first thoughts go to the small shack on the beach, but as she looks around it become apparent that this is far from that place.
This island is just full of surprises.
The witch sits up and looks around, taking more of the room in than the first time. It is decorated with weapons and shields hanging on the wall. There are sconces lit by fires and a warm, cozy fireplace. Other than that, the room is simple with the single bed in the center and a single door, leading to who knows where.
Unless we’re prisoners, this looks like someone’s bedroom.
“Well, only one way to find out,” the witch says, standing up and moving toward the door. But as her hand lands on the knob, it twists and begins to push at her. “Oh...” She steps away to find herself staring face to face with a rotting corpse.
“Pardon me, miss,” the corpse says.
This guy looks familiar.
“Anfroy?” the witch says, thinking the same thing.
“Anfroy?” the corpse repeats, and then with sudden gusto, he says, “That is my brother. I am Remfrey the Benevolent!”
It’s a wonder all these guys are dead.
Penelope suppresses a giggle. “I, um, know you brother.”
Quite well, actually.
“How is the old scuttermonger?” Remfrey asks, puzzling the girl with the name.
“He’s dead,” she blurts out.
“Aren’t we all, my dear,” the knight agrees.
“But that’s not to say that he isn’t the life of the party,” she quickly adds.
Yeah, a party I’d soon forget.
“That Anfroy was quite the ladies’ man,” he says, closing the door. “Believe it or not I was too, before I came to this place.”
“You were trapped by the satyrs and made to mate with them?” the witch asks, her voice full of energy.
Calm yourself. I really don’t want to hear about some raggedy knight and his sexual escapades. It’s like seeing you parents doing it. Wait a minute ... I’ve been there done that. It’s more like seeing your grandparent doing it.
“I get the point,” Penelope says under her breath.
“Excuse me?” Remfrey asks. “I may be a little on the dead side, but I still have my hearing. I do say, are you talking to me or someone else? My eyes aren’t what they used to be.”
“I said: I assume you helped me,” the witch quickly lies.
“I did, I did,” he says with a smile. “You were laying there, un conscious. You’re damn well lucky the satyrs didn’t find you, or the fairies for that matter.”
The mention of both brings a smile on her face. “Why’s that?”
Don’t ask why. You know why. Get him to tell us how to get off this island.
“You’re a pretty little thing,” Remfrey answers, his smile looking a little lopsided because his face is a little saggy. “I don’t know how you came to this place, but it is no place for someone like you.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she says, suddenly feeling flushed with recent memories. “I’ve enjoyed my stay here so far.”
You can come back when we’re separated. Otherwise I will be your living nightmare...
“But even though it hasn’t been too bad, I do need to be getting off,” she quickly continues.
“There aren’t many options for that,” the knight says sourly.
“I was on my way to see Crocdius,” she offers.
“The sea god requires much for passage off this island,” he warns.
I’m sure he does.
“I’m used to bargaining,” Penelope says proudly.
And maybe it’s not too bad, I’ll admit, since you seem to hold all the chips.
“I suppose then that I cannot stop you,” the knight says gallantly. “But I cannot say that I like it. I stood before Crocdius once to seek my return to the world.”
“Why are you still here?” the witch inquires.
“I refused his offer,” he answers, though his voice does falter slightly. “I do not regret my action for I am not like my brother. I do wish that I didn’t have to live the rest of my life and death on this forsaken place.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, placing her hand on his.
At least we have one sensible soul. Though I can’t say living her forever is all that appealing.
Remfrey pulls his hand away and then clutching it like the girl is tainted. “I have not felt a woman in a long time.”
And you’re not touching this one, buddy.
“I need a guide to get me to Crocdius,” Penelope says seductively, stepping closer to the knight.
Oh, you better only be trying to appeal to his hurt and nothing else. I don’t want to be part of another zombie fucking. One corpse per lifetime is more than enough for this cat.
“I dare not go to that place again,” Remfrey announces. “No matter the price.”
“I have a feeling that money, would I have any to give, will do you no good,” the witch purrs. Slowly, she pushes the knight toward the bed.
I can’t bear to be part of this.
Hazel tries to go somewhere, to that happy place, to the back of the girl’s mind, somewhere. She does indeed go somewhere, but it is only briefly. When she comes back, Remfrey is on his back on the bed and Penelope is lying between his legs, her head resting against his upper thigh and her tongue slowly swirling over one of his balls. The cat has no idea how long the witch has been in this position, and she doesn’t care. She just wants to go back to wherever it was she disappeared to in the first place. But that doesn’t seem like it is going to happen again. And from the looks of the corpse’s swollen member, hard and standing on its own at an acute angle, bobbing every now and then, this is far from over.
“My brothers and I were cursed with this life after death, our bodies rotting, but not fully,” the knight is saying. “We performed many sexual rites and rituals that which knights are not supposed to be involved in. And so we were condemned upon death to suffer this way, always horny and in need of a companion’s touch.”
Without stopping her tongue bath, Penelope raises her eyes to meet his, a look of lust covering her face. She moves slightly, raising her head so that she can better continues her oral attentions. Her movements are slow and sensual. She flattens her mouth muscle against the knight’s large sack, letting it glide very slowly over the gray flesh and feeling the contents move and roll under her ministrations.
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