Season Of The Witch
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Son Of A Witch! free porn video
You're at the cottage: it looks like a shitty little house, made of old plankwood nailed clumsily together. The roof is supposed to be straw... but it's mostly mold holding it together, if you're being honest. A bent rusty pipe peeks through the thatchy roof to billow tainted green-black smoke, or some other foul fog from your mother's cauldron.
Although your home looks awful on the outside- it's just a ruse. The interior is neat, spacious and reinforced. It's only got one open room in which you and your mother do all your living. There's a brick fireplace, barred by a thorny black iron cage. There's a few skeletons in it... a warm welcome your mother, the feared Mayhem Witch Morkala, had for any would-be witch hunters.
Normally, you'd be studying some of her musty old grimoires or be helping her brew the cauldron, but your mother's out of town! She went off flying on her broomstick to steal something. You weren't paying attention to exactly what she said... all you cared about was having the day off.
You get up out of bed- naked, of course- and approach your mother's tall scrying mirror. Not to scry of course! You just take a moment to admire yourself in the mirror.
You're Meier Murkmarrow. You turned eighteen a few months ago, and as an adult young man, you're actually looking kind of hot. You've got a lean build, pale white skin, and long limbs toned by just enough muscle. Your mom's always making you carry her shit, and while it annoys you, it has given you some nice sturdy shoulders. You're 5'11", but maybe you'll pop another inch to break six feet... well, you hope so, anyway.
You've got a six pack of abs, their contours subtly casting lines on your skin from the fireplace's bright glow. You're not real bulky- not yet anyway, or so you tell yourself- but you've just got a well-shaped, lean and tight build. It makes you grin.
Your face though-? Not so handsome. Kind of evil actually. Your cheeks are a little gaunt, you've got a sharp nose and your eyes are a little slanted in a way that looks sinister, almost serpentine. Your eye color is technically hazel- but they're mostly gold in your irises, with just a little forest green around the edges. You think you look like a nice guy though, but any sane person would disagree with you.
Your mother tells you your dad was downright fugly, but he 'did the job right', so you probably have him to thank for your big dick. And I mean it's damn big. Even flaccid, it hangs about 5", a little darker skinned than the rest of you. When you get hard, that wide meat below your abdominal muscles seriously breaks 10", but barely. It turns a furious dark pink and swells with pulsing veins when you get turned on, but also just about every time you get up in the morning. You like to make it bounce by flexing whatever muscles make it flop: you're not sure where they are or what they're called, but your almost wrist-thick penis is probably your favorite toy.
You actually try not to masturbate a lot though. There's three reasons: one, you enjoy putting nuts or pebbles on the tip of your hard dick and then seeing how far you can throw them just by flexing it. Two, if you wait a day or two and then jack off that night, you have a way better orgasm. And three- your crazy fucking mom is always keeping an eye on you, so you don't want her to catch you jacking off... so in other words, you're a master of stealth fapping. Or, well, you think so...
Below your impressive cock- wide and veiny enough to make orc girls swoon over you, but monstrous enough it terrifies most sane women- you've got a big ballsack. You kind of don't like it, but it makes your man-juices, so you're content with the heavy bag. You've got plump testicles probably the size of smallish apples. They're so big your sack does not wrinkle at all: it is stretched taut around your testicles, but that means your balls can't just bounce around if they're hit, so you have to be really careful not to hit your groin on things. Your mother bends you over and spanks them if she's pissed off- or drunk enough- which really sucks, so you usually follow her rules.
Your hair is awesome. It'd normally be waist length, but you've bound its light-brown strands into cornrows that show your scalp between them, descending into a spiral of braids bound into a ponytail behind your back. You think it gives you that warlock look you need. Unfortunately, what it really makes you look like is a lanky wannabe viking, but nobody's told you that yet. You only live with one person in the middle of a terrible swamp anyway.
Tattoos of black and green ink slither across your abdomen- no, I mean they actually move in real time across your skin, because they contain your spirit familiars- and rise along your neck, ending at your jaw. You can summon a few giant serpents, but good luck trying to make them do anything besides eat rats or sleep in the sun. Still, you've intimidated a few bounty hunters with your scaly familiars...
You've got a little body hair. A brown happy trail above your crotch, leading to your navel... Some fuzz under your pits... and of course, your prized stubble. It's not much, failing to hide your jawline, but if you're going to harass wizards and priests then you feel you need to grow a serious beard, because those guys have some incredible facial hair. You'll need to compare if you want them to take you seriously as a warlock...
You slip on your tattered, creepy-looking black robe. It's open down the middle so you're still completely indecent, but you're vain and alone anyway... You can tie it shut by the many leather cords and buttons on it, but it's hot in the swamp so obviously you're not going to use them. You just put it on because it makes you feel more mage-y.
Now it's time for breakfast. "Hmn-" You mutter, lazily opening some jars of pottery and glass atop your mother's table. You find some pickled bat wings! -gosh, they're disgusting. That'd be like chewing sour paper. You'd rather make some soup out of your boots! But then, you'd be out one pair of cool leather boots to wear...
Suddenly, you're saved! You open a pot that lets out a fresh aroma of oil, bread and meat: deep-fried frogs! Whole, of course. It was about the only tasty thing your mother could cook. Then again, you don't really want to know what she eats. Sometimes it puts up quite a fight in her cauldron!
You begin chewing crunchy, crispy frog. It's seasoned wonderfully. Flavors of onion, chiles and thyme blast your tastebuds, followed by just enough saltiness. "Shit yeah. Mph!" You grunt with an impolite mouthful, before stuffing the rest of the frog in your not-so-pretty mouth. You never chew your food much. You tend to just swallow it whole... probably why snake familiars got along with you. That, and because you're as lazy as they are.
You plop down on your bed- really just a bundle of old blankets and some beat-up wads that used to be pillows- and start to relax before you eye your mother's bed. You're jealous of it. It's simple wood, but she's reinforced it for when she really needs to fuck the stuffing out of someone, and it's got torn purple blankets that're much nicer than yours... but still bad, by anyone else's standards. She also has the only intact pillow in the entire swamp.
You cross your legs and bounce your raised foot up-and-down. "Hmn..." You mutter, as you think about napping on your mom's bed. Somehow she always knew when you did it though. While you're a pervert, you don't get off to your mom spanking your nutsack either, so unfortunately you're not sure it's worth a try...
Other plans come to mind. You could leave on your own adventure! Maybe steal a peasant girl but- ... Oh, who were you kidding. Those corpulent milkmaids were so fat you're sure they're eating raw butter twenty-four hours a day. They make your boner sad. You want to be a proper villain, stealing maidens and all, but honestly there's a reason those farm girls are still maidens. That village sucked!
You could try a far-away village, but because of your big balls, you can't ride a broomstick, which actually sucks when that's your only method of fast travel. You've tried riding your giant snake familiars, but that's only if you want them to lead you to some mice- which, needless to say, quickly disappear into one hole or another. It'd take you too long to go anywhere on foot.
Damn. Maybe you should just sleep. You do have some energy though, you just don't have any good ideas for fun stuff.
Myra
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