Witch Switch
Chapter 12

Copyright© 2019 by Armera Llsehi

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 12 - "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  

Her face feels wet, like something lapping against it. As Penelope begins to come around, she hears the sound of waves hitting the shore. That’s it! She doesn’t know what happened after Vebri and Lysis and the sea god Crocdius, but she knows she must still be in the temple, or where the place is.

Slowly, she opens her eyes, squinting when the sunlight hits them. “Hazel?” she mumbles.

What in the nine hells happened to us?

Relief comes over the witch. At the very least, whatever spell was over them is now gone. The only question now is where Vebri and Lysis are. “Some sort of trance or something Crocdius had on us, I think.”

Are we off the island?

“I don’t know,” Penelope grunts, pushing herself up off the sand. “I can’t tell one beach from another.”

Well if we are, then let us just forget about anything I may have said or was willing to participate in.

“I don’t know if I want to forget that,” the witch counters quickly, a smile edging at the corner of her lips. “I’ve never experienced anything like that before.”

And they say sex with a demon is something spectacular.

“Oh, that was too,” the young witch agrees. “But this ... this was waaayyy different.”

Whatever it was, I hope we’re away from it. I can’t believe I wanted to stay.

“If not for that we may have,” she admits.

I’m surprised you didn’t decide to.

“Well, I thought of you,” Penelope says, biting her lip. By now she is sitting on her knees, looking around for any sign telling her that they are no longer on the island. “I knew you didn’t want to stay there any longer than you had to despite what you were saying.”

Liar.

“I’m telling the truth,” the witch argues.

I know you better than that.

“You must not if you doubt me.”

When have you listened to me before?

“Several times.”

I’m not buying it. What’s the real reason you denied them?

Penelope bites on her lip a little harder. Then she comes up with a lie that she knows the cat will believe. “I couldn’t see myself in that place hearing you nag me for eternity.”

Well, it wouldn’t have been for eternity, but it would have been long enough.

“Still the same thing,” the witch argues.

Yes, it would have felt that way. Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?

“What?”

Telling the truth.

“There are worse things, I suppose.”

Do you smell that?

“The cool ocean air covered in a swath of fish?”

No. Dog.

“Dog?”

Oh right. I forgot you no longer have my senses. Probably a good thing because some of those vile creatures you’ve decided to fuck were hell on... never mind that. I smell dog.

“So all those times, it wasn’t as good as I thought it was?” Penelope asks, now curious about how their first go around actually was.

You always start asking about the oddest things at the equally oddest times.

“It’s a very important question,” the witch says with all seriousness.

If it makes you feel any better. When you had my senses, all it did was enhance yours. You felt more than you normally would have.

“So it wasn’t bad?”

Hazel sighs, knowing she will have to side with the girl just to end this conversation so that she’ll focus on the more important things, like the dog. None of it was bad. It was better because of my heightened senses. There. Happy?

“Yes, actually,” she says. “I was worried that I was having terrible...”

The dog?

“What about it?”

How about you start looking for it?

“You mean that one coming right for us?”

That would be it. Wait a minute...

“That’s strange,” Penelope says, climbing to her feet. “Have you ever seen a two headed dog before? I wonder if it’s dangerous.”

I don’t think we should stay and find out.

“Aww, look...” she says pointing at the beast with two heads barreling toward them. “Their tongues are hanging out. I think their happy.”

That’s not all that’s hanging out.

The closer they get the more of a look Penelope gets. “He’s got a big doesn’t he?”

Yeah and he’s happy to see you. Now let’s go before that happiness turns into something else.

But before the witch even takes a step in any direction, the dog seems to pick us speed and quickly closes the gap. It leaps through the air, covering what distance is left and knocks the girl to the ground. Both head turn to her and they begin licking her face, hips thrusting forward trying to find purchase.

Oh, what a nightmare! Fucked by a dog!

“Orthros!” a scraggly voice calls out. “Get down!”

Immediately the two headed dog obeys, climbing off the witch, though his excitement is still clearly visible. It is only now that the witch truly sees the scope of this beast. He is large, bigger than any dog she has ever seen, and certainly bigger than any wolf she has ever heard of.

Narrowly avoided... I don’t know if I could live myself if I was fucked by a dog. Imagine a cat having to live with that shame.

“I’m sorry, miss,” the master of the voice says, stepping out from behind the massive creature. “Orthros can get a little happy when he sees a female.”

“I can see...” Penelope squints. “Is that you Faart? You’ve changed color.”

“My name is Clyx,” he corrects. “Faart is my cousin.”

“Clits?” she asks with a giggle.

It certainly matches with the dog.

“No, foolish human,” he says. “It’s Clyx.”

“Why do you look like Faart?”

“Because we’re cousins,” he says. “You humans think you’ve seen one you’ve seen us all.”

“I don’t think that, but I did think you changed color,” she says defensively.

Yes, let’s offended the goblin with the big dog.

“Of course you did,” he continues. “Humans care not learn the difference between goblins and hobgoblins either.”

“I care,” she fires back.

No you don’t. I don’t think you’ve ever made it to bestiary class.

“I may have missed my classes a few times, but that was only because I was held up from them.”

A few times? Held up? We both know exactly what you were doing.

“Classes, huh?” he says, looking her over. “Well that explains the dress.”

“Yes, I’m a third year...” she starts to say proudly before the little hobgoblin interrupts.

“A witch!” he shouts. “Oh wait ‘til the boys hear about this one. I found me a witch on the beach!”

Perky little fellow. I think you have your first fan.

“What beach am I on exactly?” she asks.

“You’re on the North Continent,” he says, stopping his bouncing. “Did you hit your head or something?”

“It’s a long story,” the witch says.

And it’s best we skip all the details.

“But it doesn’t matter because we’re here, I’m here.”

“We?” Clyx goes still, raising an eyebrow. After a brief glare at her, he begins looking in both directions as if suddenly paranoid. “You’re not alone?”

Quick, tell him a lie!

“What?”

Tell him a lie!

“Who are your compatriots?” he asks, pulling out a gleaming knife from the back of his pants. The dog begins growling at her, taking a defensive stance.

We don’t need a paranoid goblin trying to kill us. Lie to him!

“I had a friend on the ship we we’re sailing on,” the young witch scrambles for an explanation. “I guess she didn’t make it ashore.”

This seems to satisfy the little creature. The dog even stops growling when it sees the knife lower. “Hmm, a good friend?”

“I suppose you could say that,” Penelope answers.

“Close?”

She nods her head. “Pretty close.”

“How close?”

She shrugs. “As close as two can get. Perhaps closer than one would imagine.”

“Lovers?”

The witch’s mouth drops open. “I, ah...”

“Ho-ho! I knew it!” the little guy says bouncing up and down again. “Orthros, we got us a lesbian witch! Oh the guys are going to be so jealous!”

I don’t think I like the way he’s advertising us like that.

Penelope shakes her head. She doesn’t either. “Um, excuse me, Clyx?” she says. “Why do you keep saying that about your friends?”

He stops and looks at her curiously. “Why because you’re my pet now.”

“Pet?” the word hangs hollow.

I wonder how fast you can run. No, that’s not going to work, the dog would catch us easily. Do you think it can swim?

“I don’t think that will be possible,” Penelope says, trying to sound sure of her words.

“Why not?” he asks.

“Because I’m a witch,” she answers. “Witches cannot be owned nor controlled. It is against the law of the land. Even kings have to obey it.”

“AH, you are well versed, miss,” Clyx concedes.

Yes, even I’m impressed. You must not have missed many of those classes.

“But this is the Northern Continent, and the laws don’t apply here,” the hobgoblin offsets.

The one thing you knew about just got shot down. Have anything else up your sleeve?

She does. Standing to her full height, trying to look as imposing as possible, Penelope scrunches her face into a mask of anger. “Laws or not, you do not want to anger a witch!”

“Ha!” he fires back. You said you were a third year...”

“I was bluffing,” she quickly interrupts. “Would you care to find out?” With that she holds up both palms face up. Two small fireballs appear in them and the little hobgoblin’s eyes go big.

“Maybe I made a mistake,” he says. “I don’t have to tell the guys about you.”

Impressive ... you make a great actor. Why haven’t you used that talent before?

The fireballs disappear and her face returns to normal. “I don’t think you have to do that,” she says. “Maybe I can offer you a trade, something that you can brag to your friends about.”

What? You’ve got the little runt about to run scared. Don’t make any deals. Make demands!

“Well, since you are friends with my cousin Faart...” he says. “You didn’t kill Faart, did you?”

Penelope laughs. “No, I only fucked Faart. He’s still in the dungeon of King Gunter’s for all I know.”

“You fucked Faart?”

“Well yeah,” she says. “It was pretty fun too.”

No, it wasn’t. And don’t try to change the subject.

“Lucky bastard,” Clyx mutters. He looks at his dog. “He always gets all the fun.”

 
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