“Mum, I’m horny.”

“Gwenneth, not now. I’ve got to concentrate on this potion.”

“I need to find a man. Do you think Jason might be back from warlock school?”

“Gwen, sweet, why don’t you just rub some hemp oil on your broomstick and use that? It’s All Hallows Eve! Every warlock in the county will be working overtime on important spells and such. Just stick your broom between your legs, daughter.”

“I’m tired of that. I want a real dick, cock, tool, John Henry… you know? Something that’s warm and wiggly and squirts and has hands that’ll make me feel good. I’m going out.”

“Be careful, dear. Don’t get in trouble. Don’t forget to be back in time for the sabbat.”

Gwen dressed in what she supposed to be ordinary farm girl clothes and walked toward the distant town, silhouetted by the setting sun. On the road she found a young man who was headed toward her. “Do I know you?” she asked.

“John, the miller’s son. Who might you be?”

“Never mind my name. Do you fancy a little tumble in the hay?”

“Well, aren’t you a forward lass! Need a little tickle, do you?”

“I’m needy.”

“How much d’ya need?”

Gwen thought a few seconds. “Sixpence?”

“All the way? Your sex for sixpence?” She nodded. “You’re on! Over there?” he said, gesturing toward some hay stacks.

Settled in on a bed of hay, nicely concealed from the road, John said, “I want to see your boobies, for starters.” She unlaced her bodice and exposed her breasts, little girlish breasts, but nicely shaped. He fondled each one, lapping at the little nipples. “You like that, don’t you?”

“Umm. But maybe a little lower?” She lifted her skirt and spread her legs. “Use your tongue.”

John got down between her parted thighs. “My God, are you but a girl? You’ve no curly hairs at all down there!”

“We wit… It’s a custom in my family to remove the hair down there. Don’t you think it looks nice?”

“Yes.” He explored with his fingers and determined she was wet enough for fucking.

“Wouldn’t you like to lick it for me?”

“No, I can’t wait.” He struggled to loosen his trousers.

“Here, let me help you.” Suddenly, his trousers were down around his ankles. He reached for his rod. “No, lick me, first. Here, I’ll help you.” She guided his head, showing him how to suck her clit. “Oh, oh, that’s delicious. Oh, oh, Ahhh!”

“Now can I stick it in you?”

“Don’t you want me to lick you?”

“What? I don’t understand.”

“Lie on your back.” She knelt and took his penis into her mouth, swirling her tongue and bobbing up and down, so her lips caressed the length of his shaft.

“Oh, oh, that’s wonderful,” said John, “but I don’t want to waste my seed. Let me fuck you, now.” Wordlessly, she hopped astride him, placing his hands over her boobies while she lowered herself onto his erect member. She thought of all the times she had sat on phallus-shaped objects at home. This was better. She moved her hips and squeezed with her internal muscles, bouncing a bit on his thighs, so the hard rod went in and out of her clinging cunt. John dropped her breasts and grabbed her hips, forcing her to ride him harder and faster. “Oh, yes. Oh, that’s wonderful. I’m, I’m coming!” With a few hard thrusts of his pelvis, he shot his load deep inside her. Her vaginal muscles clenched and squeezed him out.

John pushed her off him and went to pull up his trousers. “Don’t you want to do that again?” she said.

“Yes. Maybe tomorrow. I’ve gone soft, now.” She made a surreptitious wave of her wand, whispering a few words, and his penis stood at attention. “Zounds! Like magic! I wouldn’t have thought…” She lay back, skirt up, legs spread, and John fell upon her, poking her so forcefully there were farting noises as his meaty piston pumped air in and out of her quivering quim. He worked up quite a sweat before he got off her, his joystick bent and shriveled. She sat up and kissed the end of it. It visibly stiffened and grew. Her fingers made it hard. “Oh, my lord, again!” He again fell on her and, regardless of her comfort, he energetically pumped in and out. She writhed, raising her pelvis to meet his thrusts. With expert muscle control, she milked his manhood until it was again soft.

“Woah. I’m worn out. You are some lay, girlie.”

“Well, I’m pleased that you are satisfied,” she said. “I am, for the moment.” She restored her dress, lacing the bodice, while he struggled with his trousers. As he turned to go, she said, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”


“Three times, a sixpence each; that’s one and six.”

He laughed. “I don’t have that kind of money. My father pays me tuppence a day.”

“But you agreed. Sixpence, anyway.” He shrugged, tucking his shirt into his waistband. “Well, will you bring it to me, in three days?”

“No, I won’t pay you. Any sensible whore would have got the money first. You fucked me for the fun of it. You enjoyed it, you depraved she-devil. You are lucky I don’t smash your fucking face, for the fun of it, slut.”

“You agreed to sex for a sixpence.”

“So, I lied. A man will say anything to dip his wick. You’re stupid to trust a stranger.”

“John, you are no gentleman. You mustn’t be so disrespectful. We had a contract, and I delivered what you wanted. I want payment and an apology, please.”

“No, you crazy cunt. I don’t have to apologize to a slut.” He swung at her head, but she ducked.

“I think you need a lesson,” Gwen said evenly, calmly. She waived her wand and said something about a broomstick.

“Gawd!,” he said, stepping back. His penis had grown, stiff and tall, until it went well past his waist band. “Mother of God, how am I going to get this down?”

“I don’t suppose you know any sluts who would take in a foot of it for free. I guess it won’t go down until you are willing to pay.”

“What will my mother say? My sister? How can I ever go to church? You’ve got to make it go soft again.”

“Who? Me? Half a crown,” she said, “in advance. I’ll make it soft. Until then, your prick is your problem.”

His right hand rubbed the rampant rod, rubbed it raw, to no avail. She sat in the hay, smiling. The light was failing. He looked frightened. “Alright. Alright I’ll get the money, somehow. Where will you be so I can give it to you?”

“Put a scrap of red cloth on yonder tree, and I’ll be here for you after sundown. Don’t forget the money.” John staggered away, pumping fruitlessly with his “five fingered Mary.” Gwen chuckled to herself. She’d get half a crown to make it soft, but — she chuckled again — he’d have to work a year to earn enough to make it hard again. She put her wand away. “Men!” she said, as she walked home, enjoying the feel of fluids dribbling from her and wetting her thighs.

– The End –