A World of Sorcery
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Sword And Sorcery free porn video
Swords & Sorcery
Darumar the warrior paused as he saw the yellow glow of a lamp through
the branches. A cold autumn wind rustled the trees and made him pull
his cloak tighter around his body. Chainmail armour made of steel rings
was not the warmest thing to wear on a night like this and the prospect
of the warmth the cottage ahead promised was welcome indeed.
Yet still he hesitated. Magic worried him. He was a plain man, simple
and strong. Not stupid, he had plenty of quick wit, but he distrusted
those who spoke with complicated words he struggled to understand and
even more so the ones that talked in numbers and could prove up was
down by pointing to meaningless masses of figures. More than these
though were magicians. A man's mind was no longer his own when a magic
user wanted things done.
Darumar shivered, only partly from the cold, as he stood and looked at
the warm glow from the window ahead. Tall, broad shouldered and well
muscled from plying his trade as a hero and adventurer he wore his
black hair long, the strands of it writhing around his head and
shoulders as the wind played with it, and he unconsciously lifted a
weather beaten hand to flick it from his eyes.
"It must be two years since I first heard of this place," he mused to
himself, recalling a non descript tavern in a town that was the same as
every other town he'd been in, and another adventurer similar to
himself. They'd exchange tales of excitement and daring and knocked
back enough ale to bathe in and as the evening drew to a close and the
tales became lest embellished and more intimate Darumar's new companion
had told him the secret to magical resistance.
He told of hearing the very same tale he was telling right now of a
witch who lived in the centre of the Mountain Wood who could perform a
strange ritual that was both wonderful and terrible, who would imbibe
the essence of a warrior and become that warrior, merging her
magician's soul with his warrior's heart, returning that essence to him
and thus giving him a resistance to magic forever more.
Darumar took a breath and resumed his journey to the cottage as the
wind chilled his bones. He feared what was to come but longed to banish
the knot of fear that always appeared whenever he encountered magic. If
he could overcome his terror just this once perhaps it would be gone
for good.
He stopped at the cottage door and reached for the knocker just as the
door opened.
The woman within was tall but much shorter than he, slender with a
boyish figure, slim hips and small breasts, and with a triangular face,
small chin, good cheek bones and wide, unblinking eyes of a deep,
sensuous brown. Her hair was as black as Darumar's, but longer and much
glossier, floating around her head as the wind caressed it.
"You are here for the ceremony." She said, stating it as a fact not a
question. Darumar nodded and she stood aside extending an arm to beckon
him inside. He stepped forward and glanced down the front of her
tightly belted robe catching a glimpse of one small breast and a pert
nipple.
The room was small, lined with shelves that contained numerous bottles
and boxes and a large fire burned in the grate opposite a large, white
bearskin rug and a comfortable looking armchair. "Sit," she said. "I
have the ingredients ready for you and you are cold." Darumar nodded
not knowing what to say as she seemed to have predicted everything he
was going to mention. Apart from one thing. He opened his mouth. "Wait
a moment," she interrupted, padding toward the kitchen on bare feet, "I
am preparing a hot drink for you and it will be ready in a moment, then
we can begin." Darumar shut his mouth. Something to drink had been his
next request but even that was being attended to before he'd arrived.
He began to sweat. Some of it was that helpless feeling he always got
around magic but quite a bit of it was more mundane. The room was very
warm and he was well dressed for the cold.
"You are safe here," she called from the kitchen, "remove your cloak
and armour."
Darumar sighed. It was too late to back out now and he was helpless in
the face of such clairvoyance. If he could just keep the fear at bay it
would be over soon. He stood up and removed his cloak and by the time
she returned with two mugs of hot tea he had unbuckled his armour and
laid it carefully on the floor.
"You must drink all of this," she said placing the mug in front of him.
"And while it's hot. It will relax you and you will find the ritual
easier to accept. Many find it very pleasurable." She smiled, her full,
wide lips parting to show even white teeth and the smile lit up her
face changing it from a little pretty to quite beautiful.
Darumar picked up the mug and took a sip. The brew within was sweet,
spicy, and above all, warm and he drank it quickly. The woman sipped
hers slowly, her eyes on him constantly, roaming his body and face as
if searching for something. Once Darumar had finished she told him to
undress and he gulped nervously. In response she placed her mug down on
the table and crossed over to him, pulling him upright with one gentle
hand on his elbow. She turned him to face her then began to unfasten
the front of his tunic while he stared down the front of her robe at
the smooth skin and gentle swell of her small breasts. He was a lot
more relaxed now and beginning to feel aroused. The thought of the
ritual had scared him but now it was turning him on and the feel of her
long fingers moving down his chest reminded him of other girls he'd had
in the past. She pushed his tunic aside and he shrugged it off allowing
her to pull his undershirt free of his britches and push it up to his
neck, her cool hands sliding up his tightly muscled torso and brushing
his nipples gently. As a warrior sex for him was usually a hurried,
desperate thing, a grateful maiden rescued from death or kidnap and the
two of them having a quick fuck up against a dungeon wall or in the
undergrowth off a forest trail before returning to civilisation. This
was much different. Darumar's mouth was dry as he raised his arms and
shrugged his shirt off. Slow and sensual with this strange witch woman
he knew he was in for an evening of pleasure the likes of which he'd
not yet known.
Her fingers undid his belt then moved on to untie the front of his
britches and he was very aware of how hard he was, she couldn't fail to
notice the rigid bulge as she loosened the bindings around it. Whatever
this ritual involved he really hoped he'd get to bed this woman
afterwards. Once the britches were loose she knelt down and lifted his
foot. Darumar lifted it and allowed her to pull the boot free,
steadying himself on the table as she slid off the thick woollen sock
beneath then shifting his weight so that she could repeat the process
on his other foot. He swallowed dryly as she reached up and slid his
britches down into a crumpled heap around his feet. His erection was
obvious now, bulging at the front of his woollen long johns, making
them tent as his cock pointed rigidly at the roof. Silently the witch
slid her fingers inside the waistband at his hips and pulled them down,
her fingers sliding smoothly over the muscles of his thighs. The
underwear caught on his cock and pulled it down too until it pointed
slightly downwards and popped free, wobbling back and forth like a tree
branch in the wind.
Darumar would normally be cringing with embarrassment by this point but
he felt calm and relaxed as well as very, very horny and the witch
showed no signs of discomfort as she stood up and kicked his clothes
into a corner. She took his hand and led him closer to the fire, close
enough to feel the warmth but not so close that it was hot. Taking a
step back she surveyed his body from top to toe and, was it his
imagination, did she linger a while longer on his rampant cock? As she
studied him he did likewise to her. Bare feet leading up to a long
sweep of smooth leg, nicely curved, supple and bare as far as he could
see; mid thigh where it disappeared beneath her robe which was belted
loosely around her waist. It bagged and billowed at her chest and as
she moved he could catch glimpses of breast, again pale and smooth but
not as large as most of the women he'd known. Her neck swept up to that
pointed chin and he gazed at the full red lips aching to kiss them, and
beyond, the deep lustre of her eyes and the wild mass of black hair.
She was nothing like the hag like witches he'd heard of but a witch she
was without a doubt. Never had he felt so calm yet so aroused. The
full, moist lips parted and she spoke.
"This is a ritual of exchange," she said softly. "For you to gain my
powers I must take from you your own." Darumar nodded, concentrating on
nothing so much as how soft and sweet those lips must be. "Once I have
become you, then I can give you some of me." She gazed at him and he
glanced down at her body hoping she would take off her robe. "It is a
three part process. I take from you, I become you, I give to you. For
this to work all three parts must be complete." Darumar nodded,
understanding but not really interested. "The third part you may find
difficult but some find it very pleasant." Her gaze had dropped to his
still erect cock during her speech but now she turned her direct stare
back to his eyes. "Shall we begin?"
Darumar blinked and focused on her. "Er, yes." She smiled and stepped
forward, her face inches from him then she leaned forward and her warm
lips pressed against his sending a wave of warmth and desire sweeping
through him. Her tongue parted his lips and explored his mouth;
writhing and twisting inside like a hot snake, causing his cock to
stiffen even more than it already had. Her hands swept across his skin,
one gliding silkily across his smooth back, the other caressing his
hair and pulling him into the kiss.
Abruptly she broke the kiss and began licking and kissing his throat,
working her way down slowly, her tongue exploring him as though it were
an adventurer in a foreign land, sliding confidently through the valley
of his chest and up onto their plateaus, lips caressing his hardened
nipples, slowly, taking her time as though she were feasting on the
taste of him. Down she moved, her mouth working on his flesh
continuously as he stood in front of the fire his back warmed by its
heat and the touch of her hands as they gently caressed his back and
cupped his buttocks.
She was low now, crouching before him and he groaned as she explored
his abdomen, her robe occasionally brushing against his swollen tool.
How long he could stand this for without exploding all over her he
didn't know but it wasn't very long he knew that. As her tongue licked
its way down his flat, muscular belly her throat started to brush the
end of his cock, then he felt her chin brushing the pubic hairs. She
moved off to one side kissing the top of his left leg, his cock
brushing her cheek and he wondered what she'd do if he came now,
spurting all over her face, sticky strings of semen in her luxuriant
hair. As he was thinking this she turned her head and began kissing the
side of his cock. He almost let go then and there but he held on and
revelled in the feeling of her warm mouth kissing and nibbling his
shaft, her tongue flicking out like a snake's to lap at him, slowly
working her way from its base to its head. Meanwhile her fingers had
started to explore him more urgently. One hand was massaging his ass,
the fingers probing into the crack and touching the sensitive opening
of his anus, while her other hand was cupping his balls, rolling them
around gently.
He let out a low moan as she reached the end of his cock and he felt it
sink into the warm wetness of her mouth, deeper and deeper until he
felt it touch the back of her throat. She swallowed a few times and the
muscles pressed against his sensitive cock head making his legs go
weak, all the while her hands were probing and exploring. Her head
pulled back, her lips tight on his shaft as though she wanted it to
come off and for a terrifying moment he wondered if that was how the
ritual worked but others had done it and told him how good it had been.
Now he knew why.
As he was thinking she changed her technique and kept her mouth open as
she pulled away, only keeping her lips tight as she sank back down on
him. The combination of open mouth and indrawn breath as she lifted
back had the effect of sending a rush of cool air along his wet shaft
that tingled him all over and heightened the pleasure of her tight,
warm descent. Without thinking he began to move his hips in time with
her as though he were fucking her mouth and she moaned softly as she
sucked. The pace quickened and the sexy cool/hot technique was dragging
him closer to release and no matter how hard he fought it was a battle
he would lose and lose soon.
His eyes widened as the finger that had been touching his ass pushed
into it and the strange, wriggly feeling of the finger inside him was
just too much to bear. With a loud groan his balls shivered and he felt
himself burst a huge torrent of his seed into her warm and willing
mouth, the witch barely seemed to notice and carried on her sucking
merely closing her lips tight to keep the juices in her. Her finger
withdrew at the same time as her mouth and Darumar was left to stand
there, legs weak, as she stood up and gazed into his eyes. Once she had
his attention she opened her mouth and Darumar could see the cloudy goo
pooled in her mouth, his come filling the space behind her teeth, her
tongue dipping in and out, swirling it around, like some potion in a
cauldron. Darumar was mesmerised as she raised her arms, her chin
lifting with them until her hands reached for the roof and her head
tilted far back and he saw her throat flex as she swallowed his essence
in one gulp. Her arms dropped slowly and she sucked in a deep breath as
she lowered her face to look at him once more, her eyes sparkling,
hands undoing her robe.
"And now," she breathed huskily, "I am become you."
Her robe fell to the floor and Darumar gazed in shocked astonishment as
he took in the sweep of her small breasts, flat stomach and erect cock.
He felt panic building inside him. It was true; this woman had
literally sucked out his essence and had taken on his own form. Panic
welled up inside him as he tore his gaze from hers and looked down at
his crotch, relief flooding over him as he saw his own, now flaccid
cock, hanging where it always had.
"Be brave my strong warrior," she said stepping forward and kissing him
again. Darumar had fought dragons and legions of goblins and he knew
that the true enemy was fear itself, so he took a deep breath through
his nose and consciously willed the panic and doubt to go. Her lips
were warm and soft and as feminine as before, her tongue writhing as
sensuously, both now tinted with a slight flavour of his semen. That
coupled with the feeling of another cock bumping gently against his own
began to arouse him once more and soon they were exploring each others
mouths passionately as their cocks rubbed against each other.
She broke the kiss and stepped away allowing Darumar another chance to
see her in all her glory. Long black hair dropping straight down either
side of that beautiful face to pool over her creamy shoulders. A
graceful sweep of throat curving down into two small, flat breasts and
a taught, flat stomach that curved in to a small thatch of pubic hair
framing a cock and scrotum almost as big as his own. Her legs were
still as long and smooth as ever. Only the cock that was different.
"Are you ready for the final part?" she asked and Darumar took a deep
breath and nodded. She smiled kindly as she picked up a small bottle
from the fireside where it had been warming. "Fear not, this is where
you lose your fears." She opened the bottle and poured out some of the
viscous liquid into her palm. "Many find this just as pleasurable as
the first part." She returned to him kissing him briefly on the mouth.
"You must lie down, on the bearskin rug, on your stomach."
He did as he was bid and lay stretched out in front of the fire as she
crouched down beside him and he felt her hand touch the crack of his
ass, slick now with the liquid she was smearing on him and her fingers
probed down and deep until they were pushing again at his hole.
"Relax," she said and he found that he could, very easily. Her fingers
slid into him and rubbed the oil into his bottom then withdrew. He
glanced up at her and watched as she wiped what was left around the
head of her cock making the purple head shine and glisten in the
firelight.
Her lips touched his cheek as she slid across him and moved around to
kiss the back of his neck, her hands massaging the muscles of his
shoulders as he felt her hard tool search out the valley of his
buttocks. Her mouth found one of his ears and she began to nibble on it
gently, reminding him of the way a horse would eat a handful of oats
and as he thought this he felt her cock push between his cheeks and
touch the opening of his ass. He made himself relax though he could do
nothing about his own cock, which was as hard and rampant as hers. As
her lips explored his ear her tongue joined in, probing around and
turning him on immensely as he felt the pressure behind him increase
slowly, then he gasped as he felt his tight hole surrender and she slid
smoothly into him.
It was a strange feeling, hot, much hotter than he would have thought
as though she had pushed a coal from the fire into him instead of that
rigid piece of meat between her legs. As she began to move it in and
out he shuddered at the sensations, every vein and ridge on her cock
sent glorious signals to his brain and he wondered if this was how
women felt with a cock inside them. Her rhythm was slow and luxurious
and Darumar found he was enjoying this as much...no, more than when he
was in her mouth. His hips began to move of their own accord, pushing
back onto her as she thrust into him and very soon they had sped the
tempo up so that she was fucking his ass as hard as he was pushing back
onto that meat spike that was penetrating him. Her hands had moved
under his arms and she now gripped him tightly on the tops of the
shoulders so she could pull herself that little bit deeper on each
thrust, the pair of them bucking like animals as he grunted and took
her meat and she fucked him as though he were a dockside whore. Darumar
groaned in absolute abandoned pleasure as he was given a good fucking
and on top of him the witch bit his shoulder and gave one final,
throaty groan as she thrust as deep as she could and Darumar felt an
explosion of warmth erupt within him as she let go and came up his ass,
filling him up with her own load of semen. He moaned in pleasure as her
waning cock slid free of him and she released his flesh from her bite,
rolling off him and picking up her cloak.
He rolled over, his ass feeling warm and squelchy as it contracted and
her jism sloshed around up in him; it was a marvellous feeling. She had
put her robe back on and now lay down, her head on his stomach in
blissful release. "Look how hard you are," she said as one hand reached
out and touched his rigid tool. It was too much and the energy and
sexual desire he'd felt whilst taking her cock exploded and he jetted a
small stream of come right in her face. He stood up quickly, dragging
her to her feet also.
"I'm sorry," he stammered looking at that pretty face with gobbets of
his sperm sprayed over it in sticky streaks. "I didn't think I
could..."
She touched her finger to his lips to quiet him as she opened her mouth
and licked up what she could reach. "I returned your essence and now
you are a stronger warrior." She smiled and scooped up another dribble
with her finger, extending her tongue and licking it off.
Darumar nodded, understanding. She was right; he was now more powerful
and more potent than ever before. He thought for a moment, and the idea
of magic no longer scared him. He looked at her, her eyes holding his
even as her fingers cleaned her face of his juices and fed them into
her hungry mouth. "Thank you."
She smiled. "You must get dressed and leave," she said. "Do not return
here, for what I have given you can only happen once. To repeat
this..." her smile broadened "...pleasurable spell could undo it all."
Darumar nodded, secretly listing close friends and acquaintances who
might like to give him a good seeing to occasionally. "You must tell
all those who would benefit from this where to come, but NEVER those
who know of magic, only warriors such as yourself." She yawned. "Now,
get dressed and fare well."
Shanarni the witch sat with a goblet of wine in front of the fire. He
was exhausted after all that sex but very, very content. It was a
fantastic idea he'd had turning the curse into a joy. Ever since he'd
grown up and found that merely looking like a woman was as far as he
could go in that direction, he'd thought of himself as doomed to walk
the world being seen as a woman but hiding a surprise that would render
her useless to any man.
Until she'd thought of the "spell". A few drinks in the taverns and a
strange, supernatural story weaved to big, brutish warriors had netted
her several virile men who didn't object to bedding another man if they
thought it was part of a "magical" process. It was even better than
she'd thought, the tale had taken on a life of its own and spread far
and wide without any effort on his part. Now great burly men, just the
sort he liked, would show up unannounced, be impressed by a few simple
ruses at clairvoyance, a spot of headology, then allow him to suck them
off and then fuck them.
He took a sip of wine. Oh yes, life was fantastic for a "witch."
Cayleigh
- 07.11.2022
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