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It was endearing, the way he’d first stumbled upon your tiny house in the woods and froze at the very edge of the property, eyes wide. You’d seen him and his family around, of course; he and his dads lived in the village just on the other side of the trees. Time and time again, random villagers would stomp through the forest in search of the “evil witch” that inhabited it, looking to vanquish you in the name of something-or-other. If you’re being honest, you’ve never cared that much for their silly worries. Besides, they had no idea the magic they were up against; the spell that you used to induce a brain fog and turn them around was the least of what you could do.
But this man, who’d stood and examined your house with a careful eye, was different. Something about him reminded you of a little bunny, nose twitching in the dying afternoon light.
You wanted to devour him.
You’d stepped out and invited him in, instead.
That was a mere month ago. He’d been surprised to find that there was no evil lurking in the trees, only a “lovely” woman — his words, uttered shyly beside your fireplace that first evening, his fingers shaking nervously around the ceramic mug you’d placed in his hands — who simply wanted to be left alone. The peace that magic granted you was one you wanted to guard fiercely, and the skittish humans who lived nearby honestly made it easy in their weakness.
You were unsure what he’d told his family about what he’d found and where he spent his time every few days, but it must have been believable, because he showed up at your door often. You always welcomed him inside, and the two of you sat in companionable silence when he wasn’t regaling you with stories of his boisterous family and his seemingly horrible luck. He’d laughed, almost embarrassed, when he told you that last part.
“Meeting you has been the luckiest thing to ever happen to me,” he confessed, grinning widely.
“Is that so, sweet Bunny?” you’d asked, and relished in the delightful blush that bloomed on his face.
Bennett, you knew his name was, though he’d told you “Benny” was also fine for you to use, too. But you’d spun the nickname into one of your own almost immediately, unable to get the comparison out of your head.
And while you cherish your privacy, you truly do love those visits from him.
He’s a little clumsy, you’ll admit. After he broke the first mug the very first night, horror dawning on his face as quick apologies tumbled from his mouth — something you quickly realized he was used to doing, the words ready at any moment lest he ruin somebody’s day — you learned to keep your magic at the ready. He watches dropped items float in mid-air, a mixture of appreciation and awe in his expression. You do so love to see that wonder aimed at you.
You love listening to his stories, watching his face light up in animation and excitement. It’s clear he adores his family, and they adore him in turn, shooing away his apologies and misgivings as though they don’t even register. It’s not that you’re lonely, exactly; it’s just that it’s a little strange for you to meet someone so full of the love they’ve given that it radiates on their very skin.
The want stirs again, visit after visit, a low rumbling in the back of your mind: I want to devour him.
“You’re so kind to me, Miss Witch,” he tells you one evening, after you’ve finished a plate of snacks together. “I don’t understand why the villagers think you’re evil. You’re— you’re a ray of sunshine!”
You cannot help the laugh that bubbles out of you, tinkling and sweet. “That’s very nice of you to say, Bunny. But I do have my unsavory sides, you know.”
“I can’t imagine that,” he admits. “I can’t imagine anything but you sitting in this lonely cottage, day after day, reading or working on spells or whatever it is you do to fill your hours.”
“Well, I have been working on some spells recently,” you say. “I completed one yesterday that I think is perfect, but I haven’t had the chance to test it out quite yet.”
“Oh!” Bennett practically jumps as he sits up straighter. “I would love to assist you in any way I can. May I help you test it?”
Inwardly, a heat simmers, low. “Your enthusiasm is very much appreciated. But I must warn you, Bunny, that this spell will be unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Of course, I will be with you through every second of it, but do you think you can withstand that sort of intensity?”
To his credit, his resolve only falters for one moment. Then he leans forward and nods, giving you his best smile. The strong urge to lick his face comes over you. “Yes, of course I can!” he says with the enthusiasm that you’re sure comes from years of wanting to prove to his family that he’s a worthy adventurer, that he can protect the warmth they’ve built together.
“Alright.” You wander to the tiny kitchen and fix him a small mug of tea, smiling once over your shoulder at him as he watches you pull tins down from your cabinets and mix in contents that you’re sure he’s dying to analyze. His thirst to know more about you is intoxicating, and the little voice in the back of your mind hums in impatience. You place the mug in his hands with the gentlest smile you can muster. “Drink this. At least half for the spell to really work.”
There’s only the smallest hint of uncertainty as he peers down into the liquid. You see the moment his blind trust of you wins out, and he raises the tea to his lips. The mug is empty when he places it on the small table beside you both; your lips twitch in anticipation.
“That was lovely,” he tells you, and the sweetness in his words only make you want him more.
“Was it? I’m happy to hear you enjoyed it.”
“Yes, of course. It was smooth and a little sweet, just the right amount.” He sits back in his chair, content the way he always seems to be after a warm glass of tea, and peers into the crackling fire in the fireplace. “So, um, what kind of spell was—”
You don’t say anything to urge him on, just watch him carefully, delighting in seeing the effects take hold. It’s true that you hadn’t tested it out on anybody, though you knew what to expect. But to watch it unfold was another thing entirely.
“Oh.” Bennett’s whole body relaxes for a moment, then seems to tense just as quickly. His breathing has quickened, his face flushing of color as his eyes find you, helplessly looking on. “I-I’m… it’s so hot in here suddenly?”
You watch him paw at his clothes, knowing he wants to take them off and also that he doesn’t want to appear crass. He lifts his shirt just enough to give him a moment’s relief, and to give you an eyeful of his smooth belly, the expanse of skin you want to drag your tongue across.
“I… M-miss Witch, I-I don’t feel very… I feel so strange.”
“Oh?” You finally respond. “Strange in what way? Please describe how you feel for me, Bunny.”
“I feel so… hot. It’s like I’m b-burning from the inside, and…” His gaze travels downward, to where you’re delighted to see he’s quickly getting hard. His cheeks bloom red, and he whines a little under his breath. “I’m so sorry, I-I don’t mean to… I don’t want to come across as some sort of p-pervert—”
He’s so earnest, and it only makes you want to sink your teeth into him. Instead, you stand in front of him, looking down at him in his plush chair, lit by firelight and panting desperately, aching for relief. “Sweet Bunny,” you coo, lowering yourself until you’re at his level. “That’s quite normal. It’s just the course of the spell. I did warn you that it would be intense, did I not?”
He nods helplessly, a little confused; you both know he didn’t expect something like this, but he doesn’t want to bring it up, and you love him a little in that moment for the way he wants to protect your feelings.
“I also said I would be with you through the entire thing, yes? I have not lied to you; I wouldn’t.”
“W-What should I do?” he asks, and you know he really means to ask why you made such a spell, why you asked him in particular to test it out for him.
You answer with a kiss to his stomach, earning you the sweet sound of his hitched breath. You let your tongue linger on his skin, trailing downwards to the pants that stand in the way of the treasure you want most. “What you should do…” you start, watching his eyes widen as you gently pull the fabric down around his ankles, letting his cock spring free in all its hardened glory, thick with need, “…is enjoy it.”
He gives a strangled cry as you kiss the head, once, your tongue darting out to lick the bead of precum at the tip. “M-miss...” he breathes, the rest of his sentence trailing off as you close your mouth around him. He hisses at the wet heat of your mouth, impatiently whining when you slowly bob your head, taking your time to savor every inch of his length against your tongue.
“Oh,” he sighs. “Good… so good.”
“Yeah? Is this making it better, Bunny?” you ask. When you pull away from him to speak, he gives you an honest-to-gods pout, the look so precious on his face that you want to swallow him whole. He whines again and raises his hips, trying to nudge your mouth back on him. “So needy. What happened to the kind, patient man I met a month ago?” you scold lightly.
“I need it. Please. Don’t stop, don’t— ah!”
You take him in your mouth once again, never having intended to tease him for very long. It’s just that seeing his emerald eyes in a half-lidded expression, strands of heavenly white hair clinging to his sweaty face, hips lifting desperately in an attempt to find relief — it’s too good. You can’t help but savor such a sight.
Watching him slowly fall apart is a delight you never want to end. His whimpers only spur you on as they take on a more desperate note. With a flick of your wrist, the fizzle of magic is in the air between you two, stilling his hips. He murmurs a protest for just a second, before you pick up the pace and let your dominant hand close around his length as you bob your head up and down. Loosening your jaw, you let saliva pool around your hand, making each stroke glimmer seductively. Your work becomes a calculated type of sloppy, frantic as he starts to whimper, over and over like a prayer, “Like that, like that, p-please, Miss, I’m going to—”
You pull away from him with an audible pop!, letting your hand twist and stroke its way to his completion, white hot seed spurting across his chest, glistening in the firelight. You try not to let yourself be disappointed in your decision. You wanted to taste him in earnest, after all, but you just couldn’t help seeing him deliciously messy first; a taste before the full meal.
Because, just as you knew would happen, the fire in his eyes does not lessen when the shaking of his orgasm has concluded. The stiffness of his cock does not diminish, either. The effects of the tea are still in full swing, with no end in sight quite yet. He looks at you with only a hint of sheepishness, too full of heat to give much care about the state of his appearance.
“Miss Witch… I-I’m still…”
“Yes,” you agree with a smile. You rise from your knees to straddle him, his cock twitching against the thin fabric of your panties. You shiver; this is going to be divine. “The spell may take some hours to fully wear off. But don’t you worry, my sweet Bunny.”
You make no move to undo the spell that holds him immobile. His cries of pleasure are more intense when he finds himself completely at your mercy, you’ve found. You lift your skirt to give him a good view of what you’re about to do.
“After all, we’ve got all night.”