Chapter 13

Orthros tears through the forest without a destination in mind. Trees and vines and plants of all shapes and sizes whip by at a blinding rate. Miraculously none of it touches the witch. Hazel is frightened having only seen power like this once before, and that was by someone with control over it. Penelope has no control. This latent power inside her is burning hot and free and the cat has no explanation why.

Then there is this running, this escape, or so it seems. Hazel has no idea where her master is headed or why. Surely she is controlling the dog, unless his mind has been taken over and he too is suddenly out of control. She calls out trying to reach the girl, trying to talk some sense into her, but it is of no use. It’s like Penelope cannot hear her, or just plain doesn’t want to. And then without notice, Orthros comes to a stop, his feet digging into the earth. The witch is nearly flung from the dog’s back. Somehow, she manages to stay on. Her breathing is ragged and uneven. Her body is hot like she is in the middle of a wild fire and somehow managing to not be burned as it rages on around her. Hazel feels the panic as the witch looks around. Then just as abruptly as Orthros stopped his charge, the world goes black. Penelope’s head lolls and she slips from the creature’s back, hitting the ground hard.

The next thing either of them know is the witch is lying on her back with her dress shoved up to her waist. Between her legs are two heads, each belonging to Orthros. Both heads are pressed close to her body, and both have their tongues out, licking enthusiastically at her cunt. Caught by surprise, Penelope pushes at the heads, closing her legs. But he doesn’t seem to get the point. The dog, with his two heads, comes up and licks her face, rather affectionately and not at all slobbery.

Oh that’s just disgusting.

“What’s going on?” the witch asks.

I don’t know, you tell me.

“Where’s Clyx?”

You really don’t remember anything?

“I remember fire...”

I think you tapped into that dark power your father warned us about. You seriously need some help. We have to find your mother.

“I feel something...” the girl says, her eyes drifting toward the two headed dog. “I can’t explain it, but ... the dog...”

Yeah, you somehow took control of him... wait... what are you...

Hazel sees what the girl sees, and what she sees, she doesn’t like—not one single bit.

From Orthros’ sheath a pink tip is protruding. He ducks his head as if noticing them looking and suddenly feeling embarrassed. But when he gives it a lick, it seems to make it come out a bit more, and the sheath seems to be a bit fatter. He is an imposing dog with two very large heads, unless of course the third is taken into consideration.

This is out of the question. I mean, if you’re feeling the need for something, I won’t complain about the next guy you find. I won’t even complain about the next one after that...

The two headed dog starts to come back over toward them.

Alright, the next several...

Using one head, he bites the hem of the dress that has slunk back down and slips in his other. The first quickly joins the second and both inch toward the witch’s twat. Penelope doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word. Instead, she just watches motionless with fascination. Orthros’ pink, fleshy member lengthens right before her eyes. Her mouth drops open...

I will not be subjected to this! I protest!

Penelope feels a tingling in her pussy. The thought of this animal fucking her and finally scratching that itch makes her snatch melt into slippery wetness.

See! You don’t listen to me!

Orthros inches toward her, both noses picking up the strong scent of her arousal. Both tongues lap consecutively from her ass to her clit, opening her pussy with the two single strokes. It makes the girl gasp with pleasure. By reflex, she opens her thighs even more, pulling her legs up to offer the most space and access for the dog’s two heads.

This is wrong on so many levels. You can’t do this. I won’t be a part of it.

But again, the witch no longer hears her words of protest. Even if she did, the dog is already licking her slippery snatch again, both tongues doing a job that no other could touch. And then it happens again. Penelope is mesmerized, not only by the intense indescribable feeling of the dual tongues, but by the incredibly still growing prick. As Orthros moves his rear legs closer and start to hunch his back, a few clear drops appear at the end of his pointed prick. Those drops shake off with his movements, right onto her leg. And they are warm, almost as hot as the suddenly stoked fire within her is.

Orthros lifts both heads up from her crotch and steps forward, nudging her back. Penelope knows what he wants as much as she knows she wants it too. He licks her face and then she falls back, flat on her back. All the witch can think about is getting that shiny, pink prick into her aching pussy. She is absolutely burning on the inside her arousal out of control. The white hot drops of precum shower her belly, stoking those raging fires even more. Her mind doesn’t see reason, it is only filled with a need. She looks around, seeking out something that would give her the advantage of making this as easy as possible, and then she finds it