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Kinktober 2018

Supernatural

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The Witch's Spell

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by FlintHorse

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Flint stifled a yawn as he walked down the well-trodden path in the forest, the boughs hanging low overhead under the weight of their own needles. The evergreen pine trees would not shed their needles in winter but continue on, the dead needles only dropping at the end of their lifespan to retain a soft bed for wandering hooves and paws. The cycle would continue through season after season of the trees but it was not something that should concern him, his head thoughtfully bowed against the weight on his shoulders.

It was not something that really should have been on his mind, the usual worries and stresses from his day job grinding him down while he really would have preferred to be in something a little more set aside from the office side of life. Sure, he'd done retail work in earlier years but that wasn't all that enticing either and, well, he'd always thought about being a park ranger or doing something to do with conservation.

A horse could dream, right? And Flint was certainly something of a dreamer with his iron-grey colouring, a black mane and tail striking against the main body of his coat. He turned heads but was quieter by nature, his head in the clouds as he went about his day with too many thoughts in his head and hardly a hoof at all in the hold of reality. Work held him back from that and it was one of the things on his mind, holding him back from what he thought was...well...just something more. He couldn't tell what until he got there.

Little did he know that he was about to get that spark of ingenuity that she so desperately needed.

"Oh!"

The forest was just as it'd always been until it was not, the autumn leaves bursting in a flurry before him. The worn, old needles seemed to have taken on a life of their own for a split second but it was not to be anything so frightening, the form of a vixen rising from the forest floor from where she had been seated, her crimson and orange dress flowing around her legs as if it had been designed to float and drift on ebb and tide of life itself. A smile had already painted itself across her lips, although she did not wear a single flicker of makeup, not needing it in the slightest to accentuate her slender, naturally feminine beauty.

"Oh, my," she said softly, eyes dancing with a violet tint. "I did not wish to startle you. Are you quite alright?"

"What are you doing out here?" He blurted out, eyes wide and staring. "Nobody's usually out here!"

She laughed and shook her head, two large golden hoops in her ears bobbing with the sway and motion of her head.

"No, but that doesn't mean that no one can ever be here," she murmured. "But you... You may just be what I need to help me with my spell!"

Flint blinked and stepped back, holding his paws up.

"Spell? I'm... Well, I don't like this new age..."

But she didn't let him get all of the words out before grabbing his paw, forcing him to sit beside her in a tangle of leg and hoof before he could utter a single word further. The horse yanked his paw away as if it had been burned, although her touch had been nothing but pleasantly warm, the coating of fur on her body thicker than his naturally thin equine coat.

"It'll be easy," she rushed, speaking over him as she smiled soothingly, tail flicking back and forth with that little white tip. "All you have to do is sit here and hold my paw. Just one little smile."

She smiled disarmingly, ears flicking.

"You can do that, right? Just hold my paw?"

Flint scratched the back of his neck even as she took his free paw, warmth spreading through him from that mere touch alone. It was a strange sort of warmth, similar to holding a hot water bottle against one's stomach on a cold, winters night, the glow spreading through him as his own lips broke into a smile and he looked over the fox as if he'd known her for years.

"Of course."

He was quiet but one should not mistake his quietness for enthusiasm as she looked down, lips sweetly parted as she spoke what could only be an incantation. One word followed the other in a language that the stallion simply could not understand, although it was a relaxing sort of babble to him, washing over him as the wind picked up, rustling its way through the pine trees and deciduous-leaved trees alike. Yet he could not feel so cold with her sitting so very close to him, their knees just barely touching. It was relaxing in a way he could not have honestly said he'd experienced before, each bit of tension leaving the horse's body as she spoke softly, a swirl of violet magic to match the glitter in her eyes swirling around them, their bodies one in the magic of the moment.

"Come here..."

And then her lips were on his, drawing him into a kiss so deep and wantonly passionate that it seemed as if all of his dreams had come true at once. He knew, in the back of his mind, that he should have resisted her charms but he did not yet know the feel of a spell wrapped around his mind, drawing him in to loosen his inhibitions just enough to throw caution well and truly to the wind.

He leaned into the kiss, her paws coming up to tangle in his mane as she pulled him in, hungry for something more that his stallion mind could not come to understand - at least not yet. Flint's heart pounded, stolen breaths raking against his eardrums as they snatched what they could, tongues tangling passionately together. Before his mind could catch up with what was happening though, her paws were taking his T-shirt up and over his head, fumbling with his belt and tugging at his jeans.

The world moved around him as if in a fog and yet he was an active, willing participant, only swayed enough in his mind to take a stranger in the middle of the forest. If he'd had the time to speak to the fox for longer, he would have found that they had a lot in common and shared sweetness to lighten each of their days, but there was no time for that as she needed his passion and energy to complete the spell. For that was what many witches had forsaken in their learning, the use of another's willing energy to lift themselves into a higher plane.

She didn't need to remove her clothes, allowing the lust-stricken horse to hitch up her skirts as he kissed her passionately and repeatedly, layering kiss after kiss down her neck as he bore her back into the forest floor. The autumn leaves crinkled and rustled beneath the weight of their bodies but neither of them noticed, caught up in one another as his cock hardened and, slowly, slipped from the soft fold of his sheath, seeking a different kind of warmth than what the vixen had so far offered.

It was not to be denied, however, as she drew him gently to her, eyes burning and heels lightly digging into his buttocks. The flick of his tail heralded the flat tip of his cock easing into her hot folds, searing through with desire as the magic thickened around them. If he'd been at all with his senses, not only seeing the beautiful vixen before him, he would have seen how the magic wavered, the swirl and ebb of it pulsing more weakly as her grasp on it shuddered, needing the horse as much as he needed her in the pure heat of the moment.

Their lips came together once more and then she was with her spell again, moaning into his mouth as he slammed deep and thrust, claiming her body as she claimed his, neither more in control of the moment than the other. For either could have truly stopped events at any time and did not want to, their passion colouring the magic through with a streak of crimson, the heat of lust and the carnal made incarnate.

"Oh..."

The breathy moan burst more sweetly from her lips than the very first "oh" of surprise that the red vixen had given him, surrendering her body to his thrusts, powering deep and hard, each and every one bottoming out within her sweetly clenching cunny. She could not stop him from curling through the flourishing lust in her, lending power and strength to her spell as she squeezed around him as if to draw him in even deeper. It would be so easy to lose hold of her spell and yet she clung fiercely onto it as the trees whipped back and forth, crows scattering with loud, obnoxious caws from the swaying branches above.

Magic was never easy, nor was it quiet. And she needed every last drop of Flint's passion to make it work!

"More!" She cried, teetering on the brink of losing herself. "Oh... Just give me more!"

The words did not have to be the most eloquent to lend the desire she needed to stir up in him, the stallion's lips glistening with just a hint of her saliva, ears dropping out softly to the sides as he thrust and thrust, body caught up in motion that it knew well. He did not have to think about the mechanics of sex to enjoy, groping and squeezing her breasts through the thin, soft fabric of her dress as his need rose and rose, drawing to a thrumming crescendo as the wilds raged around them, caught up in the eye of the storm.

Flint grunted, tucking his chin down to his chest as if he thought he could hold off - but, of course, that was impossible as the vixen suddenly howled and twisted beneath him, the magic nearly solidifying to cut them off completely from the world as she hit her orgasm. The stallion could only helplessly keep thrusting and thrusting as he drove in, cock throbbing and spurting his own cum as he joined her in climax, sweetly filling her as she had so very much needed to be filled, even if she had not known it at the very moment she had first made the decision to seduce the shy horse.

It had all worked out for the best and the magic wavered around them, drawing down and down and down into a small spot on the forest floor, the wind fading and dying as if it had never been up at all. The vixen murmured quietly as Flint pulled out, keen to keep him close even as the light magical drain took hold, pulling what it needed from the stallion who couldn't have cared less for sharing it with the fox either way. He'd gotten what he needed from her and she had too, although their liaison would not be quite as brief as either of them may have initially expected, their time together woven as intricately into the spell as fate itself.

But Flint could not keep himself awake as he dropped lower and lower to the ground, her arms guiding him down even as she shakily sat up, her own energy leeched from the spell as she sought the end result of it, what had been her goal all along. Little did she know the kind nature of the fur she had pulled along with her, her fingers twisted into his even as he nestled in close and warm.

"Little horse," she murmured, stroking his mane as he laid his exhausted head in her lap, a small smile pulling at his lips. "I'm going to make all of your dreams come true."

And the crystal seated in the ring of scorched pine needles on the forest floor before her told the tale of a spell gone well.

Flint would reap the rewards.