Purloined Penis

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 glamour 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.

Under a Dark Moon

In the darkness of the new moon, Charity made her way through the woods to the meeting place. The coven sentries greeted her warmly, as she sat upon the soft cool grass to remove her shoes and stockings. She suspected young Isaac volunteered for the duty because he enjoyed watching the women undress.

Charity hoped he wasn’t disappointed that she didn’t bother with clothing, only a cloak, shoes, and the small pouch around her neck. Some of the witches came to the sabbat fully dressed, but she could easily cast a glamour to hide her face if she ran into anyone on the road from Salem Town. Not all the coven had skills in glamourie. She shrugged slowly out of her cloak, letting Isaac watch her white flesh revealed to the fire. She gave him a grin, and wiggled her ass at him. Before stepping next to him, “Blessed sabbat,” she said to him, standing close enough to feel the heat of his skin.

His eyes took in her naked flesh, hungry and unashamed. “Blessed sabbat,” he echoed, and she was certain she saw his hand twitch wanting to touch her.

“Will you join us in the revels later?” She asked, feeling the rough texture of his shirt against her breast. And she hid her smile as his hand brushed against her naked thigh. “You should come join us in the dancing at least” she whispered in his ear, and kissed his cheek.  Without waiting for a reply, she stepped away and went further into the grove.

Once deeper inside she could see the flames leaping toward the sky, and the dancers, skin slick with flying ointment, dancing around the fire. She scanned the circle, wondering who was in charge of the flying ointment. The salve was made of grease and herbs, the type of herbs and their effect varied. Tonight the ritual was one of lust and libation, so she expected the ointment would be something special.

She saw the Magister standing before the ointment. His lined face glowed in the fire, and his grey hair hung long and loose. She stepped before the old man, and bowed her head in respect. “Well meet, Magister” she said.

“Well met, Hecate’s servant.” He answered his voice strong despite his evident age. “Do you wish the ointment?”

“Yes, please” she answered, knowing what would come next and feeling herself grow aroused at the thought.

He dipped his hands into the cauldron at his feet, and Charity could see the flames reflected in the grease covering his hands.  She stepped closer to him and heard his words of blessing as his gnarled hands rubbed the grease into her skin. His palms cupped her breasts, his thumbs rubbing over her nipples, making her squirm. He rubbed harder, his dark eyes meeting hers. He pinched her nipples before moving his hands lower.

His hands slid down her belly and down her thighs. His hands stopped just below her pussy.  His fingers run down the inside of her thighs, and over the globes of her ass. She felt the grease coating her skin, wanting more already. She shifted her weight and opened her legs wider.

He gestured at the cauldron, “Would you like to complete the application yourself?”

Charity shook her head, “No, magister, you may complete it.” The old man’s lined face split into a grin, and she opened her legs wider.

He returned his fingers to the cauldron, his fingers glistening with the grease. He slipped his greased fingers between her legs, the ointment allowed his fingers to press easily and immediately inside her. Charity let out a soft moan, as he turned his fingers, rubbing along her walls. His thumb glided over her clit, slowly drawing it out. This time she did moan, and swayed on her feet.

The old Magister, drew her closer to him, so that she almost straddled his lap. He removed his fingers from her pussy, and sent his greased fingers probing her ass.  Charity felt his fingers stretching her ass, once again the grease making it an easy entry. She felt his breath against her tits, and wasn’t surprised or disappointed to feel his lips capture one nipple.  He sucked the nub of flesh, as he added a second finger to her ass. Charity rested her hands on his shoulders, loving the sensations the well lubricated fingers were causing.

“Perhaps, I need a larger application” Charity moaned.

The Magister released her nipple from his mouth, “You are a wanton child,” he grinned at her.  He glanced around the clearing, yet no one waited for the ointment. He turned her around, so she faced the fire and the dancing witches.

She glanced over her shoulder, watching him stroke his already stiff cock with the grease. She fumbled with the pouch around her neck, gently removing her favorite familiar. The penis she’d take from the Reverend felt heavy and flaccid in her hand.  She pressed the base gently against her mons, speaking a quick word of magic.  It attached to her flesh as it had always been a part of her.

“Where’d you get that toy?” the Magister asked, watching her, still stroking his cock.

“I took it from the Reverend Burroughs last full moon.” She paused to stroke her own cock, loving the novel feelings that coursed through her body.  “I thought I’d remind him that I have it.”

The magister laughed, “Cheeky witch, you are” he said, and tugged at her hips.  He drew her down until the tip of his cock pressed against her ass.

She lowered herself on to his cock, feeling it stretch her ass.  She knew that the Reverend would also feel everything she felt tonight.  She briefly wondered where the man might be.  Home sleeping to be haunted by dreams of a cock in his ass? Perhaps he was at one of the endless meetings of the men of Salem Town. Would he be able to maintain his composure? As she sank onto the magister’s cock, she forgot all about the Reverend too caught up in the heavenly feeling of a cock in her ass.  She bounced on his cock, setting the speed and rhythm she wanted.  Her purloined penis bobbed in front of her, spending little spasms of desire through her.

She giggled as the Magister reached around and wrapped his fingers around her cock. When he tugged on the appendage, her giggle became a groan, and she knew that she was going to orgasm quickly.

She pressed herself into his lap, taking his cock further inside her as her cock spilled its seed. She cried out her ecstasy. The magister remained hard and buried in her ass, urging her to keep moving.  On shuddering legs, she kept moving drawing out her own pleasure. His hands wrapped around her hips, setting her to a slower, deeper pace.  Charity complied, her mind drifting wonder again what the Reverend was doing.

When the magister came, he groaned out an invocation to Pan.  He panted a moment, then gave her a light smack on the ass and told her to join the circle. The ointment had done its work, and coupled with the heavy, languor she felt from the orgasm, she felt the soft blurring of the ointment. The world was a little brighter and she felt free.

In Salem Town, the Reverend Burroughs, abruptly left the meeting and hurried home.  He could feel the ghostly fingers slipping inside his ass, something he had never felt before.  He reached his door, slamming it behind himself.  He lay squirming on the bed, and wondered once again why he’d agreed to the witch’s request.    

Religious Instruction

Charity stroked the mouse’s head, before speaking the words of the spell.  The mouse in her hand melted and reformed into the Reverend’s purloined penis. Hitching up her skirts, she attached the organ to her mons, feeling it already starting to stir and harden.

Charity stroked her new cock, wrapping her fist around it. She wasn’t surprised to discover that the Reverend was a lusty man; she understood the hypocrisy of the Salem clergy all too well. She quickly let her skirts drop as her new kitchen girl came traipsing in from the yard, once again letting the door slam behind her.

“Mercy,” Charity growled at her, “I’ve told you to stop letting the door slam.”

Mercy blushed beautifully and lowered her head, her red curls hiding her face. “Sorry, ma’am. It slipped.” She laid a basket of freshly collected eggs on the table, and frowned at Charity.

“What is it?” Charity snapped at the girl, more annoyed at herself for toying with the cock where she could be interrupted.

“Um your dress ma’am,” Mercy said blushing. “I know you aren’t a Puritan, but is this the new style?”

Charity glanced down and realized that her cock was tenting her dress. “Devil take it,” she muttered, stifling a laugh at the scandalized expression on Mercy’s face.

Thankfully, they were interrupted by Tituba’s arrival. She took one look at Charity’s dress, and licked her plump lips. “Good Morrow, to you both.” She said, “I’m not early for my lessons am I?”

Once again, Mercy stared at the Caribbean born servant woman. Charity hadn’t decided if the girl was enamored of Tituba or terrified of her. Mercy had certainly seen very few non-Europeans. She wondered how the girl would fair in Spring when her Naumkeag friends once again returned to visit her. Mercy would certainly have been raised on tales of white women stolen away to be the sexual playthings of the Indians.

“No, not at all” She took Tituba’s arm. The two women claimed to be studying the bible at their weekly meetings, but they rarely discussed the finer points of the Lord. Yet both certainly cried out his name often enough during the lessons.

“Mercy, we will be in the parlor and should not be disturbed.” She looked back at the young woman, “Please prepare enough luncheon for the three of us.”

Mercy nodded, still looking slightly scandalized, and Charity was beginning to question her decision to take the young woman into her household.  She had thought she was doing the girl a favor, but wondered if the girl’s puritan roots were dug too deeply. If so, her presence may put the entire coven at risk.

Her fears were forgotten, as Tituba closed the parlor door and enfolded Charity in her arms. Tituba kissed her passionately, her hands hitching up Charity’s skirts. Charity felt the warmth of the fire on her bare skin, and Tituba’s hand wrapped around the cock stroking it slowly.

“The Reverend does have a generous cock,” Tituba said, breaking the kiss. “Is it true you used my form to take it from him?”

Charity nodded, watching Tituba’s dark hand rubbing the cock. “Aye,” she shivered at the touch, “He has so many naughty dreams about you, my dark beauty.”

Tituba laughed a deep throaty sound. “And he will feel what you do?”

Charity nodded, her hands busy unfastening Tituba’s dress. “Yes, no matter where he is and what he is doing he will feel whatever the witch wearing his cock feels. I wish I could have seen his face as I was buggered in the last circle. I heard he rushed from the meeting hall, looking tormented.” She smiled at the now naked Tituba, and her hands began stroking her flesh and kneading her large breasts. “His maid later told me that he locked himself in his room, but the good girl watched through the keyhole.” She giggled and kissed Tituba’s shoulders.

Tituba unfastened Charity’s dress, her hands moving over Charity’s flesh. “Tell me, what did the girl see?” she asked drawing Charity to the floor with her. When Charity was lying on back, Tituba began licking and suckling her nipples.

“Oh,” Charity moaned in delight. “The girl said he bent over the bed and thrust his buttocks out for a phantom lover.” Charity gasped as Tituba’s teeth grazed her nipples. “He cried out for his lover to take him harder, and he stroked his cock,” Tituba’s hands traveled lower, slipped over Charity’s belly and down below her purloin penis. Her fingers slipped between Charity’s warm, wet folds and found her clit. “Oh yes, my love,” Charity moaned, and thrust her hips up to meet Tituba’s hand.

She squealed when Tituba slapped her pussy.

“Finish the story, you wanton slut.”

Charity shivered in desire. Even the slap, unexpected as it was, sent delicious frissons through her body. Her cock bobbed and glistened with its lubricating fluids. It took another wet slap, for her to return to the story. “The.. the girl” she panted as Tituba began rubbing her over-stimulated clit. “The girl claimed he rubbed and rubbed his cock, but it never rose, nor could he seem to find release.” Tituba returned to breasts, sucking on the heavy white flesh, until Charity bit her lip to keep from crying out. She didn’t trust Mercy to not come and investigate.

Tituba raised her head, “So he suffers every time you use this cock.” She wrapped her fingers around it again, stroking it. “Have you used it often?”

After a month of playing with it, Charity still found herself reveling in the unfamiliar sensations of the cock.  “Oh yes. I used it in the meeting, taking and being taken countless times. And this last fortnight, I wore it while I was fucked by a pair of your countrymen, traveling north to the French controlled territories.” She bucked her hips. Reciting all her sins of the flesh left her even more aroused and desperate for her lover. “They were beautifully dark skinned, and taught me a little of their own magicks. One even took my cock in his mouth, sucking it and letting me use his mouth like a cunt.”

Tituba slipped two fingers into Charity, thrusting slowly. “Do you know how he responded?”

Charity grinned. “His girl said his cries woke her from sleep.” Charity ran her fingers over Tituba’s skin, loving the smooth feel. “Once again, he moaned and groaned, thrusting at nothing. Please Tituba,” she moaned, “let me come and I’ll tell you all you want to know.”

Tituba pulled her fingers from Charity’s pussy. “Greedy slut,” she slapped her pussy again, and captured Charity’s hands with her own. Charity felt Tituba’s weight on her, pinning her to the floor. With a deft hand, she looped charity’s apron strings around her wrists, and bound the woman. “Now, finish reciting your sins.” Tituba commanded, pinching Charity’s nipples. This time Charity did cry out, a mix of frustrated pleasure and pain.

“She said he began flagellation.” She moaned, recalling the encounter with the two island men. They’d been good lovers; both intent on sharing her and their pleasures. Before the night ended, they had taken her both from behind and the front. And one had sucked the Reverend’s cock until it came. She’d invited them to stay, telling them they could pose as labors on her farm. The idea of having access to both of them regularly had been so tempting. She thought perhaps the older of the two could be led to enjoy her darker passions, but alas, they left before dawn. “He still couldn’t not reach his satisfaction, nor stop the sensations his cock gave him.”

Tituba moved lower, her lips hovering over the cock. “Is that all?”

Charity could feel her breath on the cock, and shook her head. “No, wore the cock while he gave the service on Sunday.” She groaned as Tituba wrapped her lips around the cock. “I was alone, so I used the cock on myself, treating it like one of the wood phalluses the Magister gave us. She thrust her hips us, wriggling on the floor, trying to free her hands. “I frigged myself three or four times.” Her words trailed off, and she begged Tituba to fuck her, to use her cock.

Sliding her lips from the cock, she asked, “Did he finish the service?”

Charity writhed beneath her and shook her head. “No, my kitchen girl, Mercy, was there.” Charity reflexively looked toward the closed door. “She said he became flushed and panting rushed from the church.”

Tituba rose on to her knees between Charity’s legs. With a few quick words, she snatched the penis from Charity and attached it to her own body. Before Charity said a word, Tituba had thrust the cock into her. She thrust in and pulled almost entirely out, getting a feel for the cock, before setting a slow pace, filled with hard thrusting.

Charity bit her lip, once again trying to keep Mercy from hearing anything. She was already so near to coming that, it wouldn’t be long.

Tituba leaned over and kissed her deeply as she came, muffling Charity’s cries of delight.

They both jumped as the door opened and Mercy came barreling in to announce lunch was ready.

They three of them stared at each other silence, until Mercy spoke.

“Pardon me, ma’am. I didn’t know you ran a French household.” She looked at the two naked women. “I can assure you, I was a maid to a French lady, and I am happy to take part in these household chores.”

Tituba and Charity both broke into giggles, and Tituba waved the girl into the room.