Mistress Of The Marsh - Sex Stories

Mistress Of The Marsh

... molded perfectly to her body, covering half of her pale, curvy form. She had long pink hair that matched the color of her eyes and supple, purple lips.

Atop her head sat an intimidating dual-horn helmet. Three gems were faceted into it. One at the base of both black horns and the third centered over her forehead. The fixtures were sculpted to look like a trio of extra eyes, giving the headpiece a sinister look that was equal parts twisted and arcane. The leathery black and purple garb that draped from her arms looked almost like a pair of wings.

She stood thirty feet away in a haughty pose of poise and confidence. The woman maintained a thin smile as she studied him curiously. If her demeanor was any indication, a young man with a knife and bow didn't register as any kind of threat.

Declan decided not to mince words. “I saw you in my dream. Are you a witch?”

“A witch?” she replied with a laugh. “Has someone been scaring you with bedtime stories?”

He drew his knife and pointed it at her. “You look enough like a witch to me.”

“I have no use for goat's blood or jars of toads, I assure you.”

“A wizard then.”

“Sorceress” she corrected him. Her smile faded into an annoyed glower.

“Right, so a witch.”

“You can put that away. If I meant you harm, I would've poisoned the food.”

Declan lowered the weapon slowly. “This is your camp?”

“That's right. You look like you're still hungry.” She motioned to the simmering pot beside him. “Please, help ...

... yourself to more.”

He hilted the weapon at his side with a sturdy shove. “I will, thanks. But keep your distance, witch.”

“My name is Daemiel. What's yours, young one?”

“Declan” he answered. “Though, I suspect you already knew that.”

Daemiel uttered an amused chuckle. She watched as the hunter circled back around the fire and picked up his bowl. Declan was careful to keep the woman in sight at all times. He lifted the lid and began serving himself another helping.

“I'm going to eat my fill and then I'll be on my way.”

“Fine, if that's what you want” the sorceress replied. She took a few steps toward the fire. “But I would advise you to spend the night. It's safer here than in your forest. And I would welcome the company.”

“I'm sure you would” he shot back with a knowing smirk.

Daemiel looked indignant. “What's the matter?” Her hands trailed down the sides of her decadent curves. “Don't like what you see?”

Declan stirred the stew as he made his way back to his seat. “You're a gorgeous woman in the middle of a swamp who visited my dreams last night. Only the king of fools would walk into a trap that obvious.”

Her body shook with full-throated laughter before setting her sights on him again. “Smart boy. I guess I'll need to turn on the charm.”

“Turn it on all you want” he said between mouthfuls of stew. “I'll be leaving-”

The sorceress raised her left hand. It flared radiant purple as her chant echoed through the camp.“Renme Libioaal Xavuin ...