Charity smoothed the black thigh high socks on to her legs. She savored the moment in her nakedness. Her pale thighs almost glowed next to the black stockings. She ran her hands over her hips and cupped her breasts, rubbing her nipples. While she hated putting on her clothes, she did want to get to the gathering.

She pulled the heavy black cloak over her shoulders, feeling the coarse wool tease her skin. She fastened it closed, before she pulled the hood over her head, hiding the pale gleam of her hair. Outside she called the mists to her, to hide her passage through Salem Town.

She walked fearlessly thought the empty streets, feeling the pull off the dark woods in her blood. She let the fog dissipate when she reached the edge of town and entered the woods.

She walked along the road, and stopped suddenly seeing Reverend George Burroughs on the road. He also stopped seeing her.

“Good evening, Reverend” Charity said, inclining her head to him.

“Who’s there?” The Reverend asked, and she realized that he lacked the night vision on a witch. A sly grin crossed her lips. With a muttered word and a few flicks of her fingers, Charity transformed herself. No longer the village woman he expected, she became the type of woman he dreamed impious and utterly impure dreams about.

Charity wasn’t surprised to see the glamor had significantly increased her bust and broadened her hips. “You know me Reverend,” she purred at him.

The Reverend squinted in the darkness, and then he gaped at her. “You, you aren’t real,” he whispered.

Charity smiled, this is going to be too easy. “I’m real, and I’ve come for you, my love.” She was guessing about the “my love” part. Of course mortal men were easily swayed by love. She reached for his hand, clasping it to her now ample breast. “Come to the woods with me,” she said leading him from the path.

A pious man would never venture into the woods, but Charity now knew that Reverend Burroughs was not a pious man. He followed her; his steps slow, hesitant at first. His pace quickened as they stepped into the dark woods.

She released his hand, staying a few steps out of his reach. She called back to him crooning over her shoulder at him, leading him deeper into the woods. She unfastened her cloak, letting it flare open, her nude skin prickling in the cold air. She ran ahead a few steps, knowing that she wasn’t far from the meeting place.

She stood under a break in the trees, letting the moonlight shine over her now dusky skin. She turned to face the Reverend.

He stumbled upon seeing her nakedness, and he seemed torn between moving toward her or remaining on his knees.

“Come to me,” she called, letting the magic of the Moon flow through her words. And he crawled to her tearing his coat and shirt away. He knelt before her, shaking.

Charity squatted beside him, stroking his hair. “Good boy,” she purred and unfastened his trousers. His cock sprang free, hard and pale in the moonlight. She rubbed the head, letting the silky drops of precum coat her fingers and his cock. “Lie back,” she ordered.

He lay in the grass and leaves, “Are you the devil?”

She shook her head and laughed. “No devil, I.” She straddled him, feeling his cock press against her. “I’m your dream; your love come for you.”

He groaned as she sank onto his cock. “You like this,” she whispered down at him. “You enjoy rutting in the woods, like an animal.” She moaned, riding him faster and harder. His hands reached out for her, grasping her hips urging her on.

She reached between them, her fingers finding her pleasure nub. She rubbed and teased herself to orgasm, watching him stare in awe at her. Her own pleasure overtook her, and she shuddered above him, crying out to her gods. She didn’t notice the moment of his orgasm, and would chastise herself later. A man’s orgasm was worth capturing.

When she came back to herself, she whispered a few words and rose off his cock. She wrapped her fingers around his softening flesh. Whispering more words, she removed his cock transmuting it into a wet pale mouse. She held it to her face, “Well hello my little friend” she whispered.

Reverend Burroughs stared, his look of awe, became one of horror. His hands ran over his groin, finding damp smooth skin and his heavy balls. “What have you done?”

“I’ve made you my creature,” she looked down at him. “Don’t worry I’ll take good care of your little mouse.” The mouse rested on her shoulder; it’s fur drying. “Now, my love, turn over.”

He hesitated, still staring at the mouse.

“Don’t worry, Georgie, you’ll like this.” She smiled at him. “I’ll even give you your mouse back.”

He turned over, presenting his naked ass to her. With a word, the mouse raced down her shoulder, tangling its paws in the curls between her thighs. She muttered again, her hand on the mouse. It transmuted back into a hard pink cock. She swiveled her hips, growing used to its weight attached to her body. She spit on her palm, rubbing her new cock, before pressing it against his asshole.

He groaned, finally understanding her words. But Charity noticed that he did not move away.

“Tell me, Georgie,” she paused, the cock halfway into him. “Do you like being fucked by your own cock?”

He moaned again. “A Witch,” he panted, “you’ve Bewitched be.”

She pressed forward, driving the cock deeper into him. “But do you like it?” The cock she wore grew harder. “I’ll stop if you don’t.”

“No,” he hissed. “Yes, more.”

Charity laughed and thrust her hips faster. She enjoyed the feeling she received from the stolen cock, and savored each thrust. His moans and cries echoed in the dark woods. She grabbed his hips, pulling him to her as she gave her own cry of satisfaction. She felt the cock drain into his bowels, before she slowly pulled it free.

She stroked his bare back as she walked back around to face him. She squatted next him, still wearing his cock. He raised his eyes to stare at her groin. “Come my love,” she said, “It’s time for you to leave the woods.”

Charity could hear the drums of the witches over the rise. Soon they would light the bonfire, and she didn’t want to drag him along, at least not yet. She helped him dress, and with gentle hands led him back to the path that led to the road.

She stood naked beside him, “Now Georgie, I want you to go home and think about tonight.” She watched his face and saw him look troubled. “It wasn’t a bad night, Georgie. You finally experienced all that you dreamt of.”

He nodded slowly. “But you’re a devil” his voice started to rise.

Charity shook her head, “No devil, I.” She stroked his cheek. “I’m going to keep your little mouse,” seeing his horrified look she continued quickly, “just for a month.” She glanced up at the moon, “When the moon is full, return to me here.”

He nodded slowly. “Was this all a dream?”

She gave him a sad smile and pointed him toward the road. As he made his way back to the moonlight road, she wondered if he would return to the woods next month.

She went back to the woods, her stolen cock flopping between her legs. It’d get good use tonight in the circle, and then she’d make the little mouse a lovely cage and feed it delightful cakes and berries. That is until she wanted to use it again.

Masturbation Monday: where getting off is half the fun