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“So, a love potion, huh?”
“Yes, I can pay.”
The witch looked at the young woman offering coins. She had come in her work clothes, humble, determined. She must have saved up for months to find the silver for the philtre she wanted.
“Why would you need such a thing? Look at you, young and sprite, and pretty!”
“His family considers me ‘unworthy’.”
“A love potion won’t make you ‘worthy’.”
“It will if I’m pregnant. But he won’t do it. He says it’s not ‘proper’.
The witch considered the young woman before her; miller’s daughter. A good position in the village, but not quite high enough for the local Lord. The girl was ambitious, though.
How ambitious?
“Alright. I’ll get right on that, then.”
“I’ll be on my way, then. When can I—
—you’ll stay right here. I haven’t made one of these in a while, and I’m not sure I have all the ingredients. If I don’t, you’ll have to find them.”
The Witch rummaged around her shop: spice racks, bottles of animal parts — eyes, mostly — floating around in a pale blue liquid. Dried tentacles and seaweeds and mushrooms. Potted plants, flowering out of season. The crone gathered ingredients methodically putting them into small bowls on her workspace, beside the stove. Water boiled in a kettle. She enumerated a list:
“Crushed dried slug, rehydrated. Rose petals, a viper’s heart…” Some ingredients sounded downright evil.
“Ah,” she announced, “one ingredient should be easy enough: go in the orchard, fetch me a Venus Peach. It will be a pale rose. Fetch a few, they’re delicious.”
So Rey, the miller’s daughter, went out of the vine-covered cottage into the orchard. It was immediately obvious this was a witch’s garden, and why it was hidden away in a clearing in the old Dark woods: branches of the various fruit trees were covered in flowers and fruits, regardless of the actual season. A beehive hummed just off the path through the trees: Rey saw they were blue, and tiny. She bet their sting would be just as painful as regular bees and stayed away.
At the very end stood the tree she sought: Venus peaches. Some already big, pink and fragrant. Many bees buzzed around flowers newly bloomed on the same branches. Rey carefully climbed up into the tree to fetch the fruit. Bees buzzed around her, but the girl knew how to be agile, and not disturb them, having learned to climb the windmill to furl or unfurl the sails. She’d learned how to change the gears, how to adjust the stones, to recognize when the main mast needed new frogs thrown under for lubrication.
But all that experience was moot: her father’s mill would go to his eldest son. She could only serve the family mill, never own it. So she had found a way to catch the eye of the Land Lord’s son.
Rey choose the fruit that appeared most ripe, tied them into her apron, and jumped down. When she got back to the cottage, she saw the witch peering into a glass jug, looking annoyed.
“Here are the peaches, good witch. What’s wrong?”
“The kylo seed has run out.” She scraped the bottom of the jug with a knife. A dried-up scrap came out. She put it aside. “That won’t be enough. I’ll need new.”
“Alright. Where do I get that?” offered Rey.
Now the witch gave her an eyeroll: “I doubt you’ll want to fetch that. It’s kind of a — secret — ingredient. Anyway, the kylo doesn’t know you.”
“The Kylo?” it was a strange way to designate something. Was it a pet, then? Rey looked around the cottage again: a crow and an owl sat on their perches, content. A pink mouse scuttled about, eating a blue beetle. She heard a toad croak from somewhere in the back room. A calico cat called and jumped on the workbench. The witch pet it.
“The Kylo, yes. I haven’t visited it in a while. Which reminds me, I should feed it: it’s high noon. Rey dear, get a chicken from the coop.”
So Rey, wondering what the hell a kylo was — not a dog; a badger? — also started wondering what kind of animal would have seed. And by the time she caught the chicken, she started having ideas about what that might imply. She shuddered.
But her ambition drove her on: the Lord’s second son, Benjamin, was easy on the eye.
She brought the poor bird in, ignoring its clucking protests. The cat meowed. The witch answered: “I know dear, but my knees aren’t what they used to. My hips neither.”
The cat meowed again, a short series of meows, and Rey realized the witch was listening to it.
“You think she’ll keep the secret?” For an answer, the cat walked to the end of the bench and jumped to the counter where Rey was standing. Rey pet it. Its eyes were an eerie orange.
“Can you keep a secret?” it asked.
Rey gasped, and barely held on to the chicken that beat its wings uselessly in her grip. She swallowed. Benjamin, and the climb in station, would be worth it, even the secret of a talking cat. She nodded quickly. Then added, for good measure:
“My aunt Katie told me of this place before she died. You remember, five years ago, when she came to buy that phial of milk of the puppy, with a girl who waited outside? That girl was me.”
“Of the poppy. So it was you, I remember you now. A wee thing, with a determined stance. My condolences. You kept this place secret. But this secret will be much more… embarrassing to keep.”
Rey gulped. Seed.
But she really only had one question: “is it dangerous?”
“Only if you resist.”
The cat looked at her, waiting. Waiting for another question.
“What… what is a ‘kylo’?”
The witch nodded in turn, satisfied, “Cat, tell her.”
“What is a kylo…” the cat purred, “well, you could say it’s a kind of toad. A big toad. It eats the rats, mostly, but it likes a chicken or two a week. It lives in a coffer.”
Rey looked around. There were many chests and coffers in the room with them… Which one?
“Oh, not in this room. It prefers a darker, more humid environment, of course. It’s down in the underground under the house.”
Of course.
“What else should I know?”
The witch limped to a trap in the floor. With effort, she opened it. She beckoned Rey over to her. Rey looked down into the darkness. A musty smell rose from the hole.
“Offer the chicken first, it must be hungry. Then offer it this peach. It likes those. It likes the juices. Here, put the ladder down.”
A sturdy wooden ladder, just a bit taller than Rey could reach to the top rung. It reached up to the attic. Multifunctional.
“Right.” Rey lowered it into the hole, climbed down into the dank space, that opened into a corridor, it was dark.
“Light?”
“Yes of course, dear. Here.” Rey climbed back up so the witch could hand her a lit lantern. “Don’t bring it too close, the kylo hates the light. And here, the jug.”
“That’s a big jug.”
“Fill it if you can. It keeps for a while. Very nutritious.”
Rey climbed back down, careful to not drop anything. She had the peach in her pocket.
The witch threw the chicken into the hole. Rey scrambled to catch it. The trap fell shut. “Have fun!”
“Fun,” Rey grumbled. She picked up her tools as best as she could and moved forward into the dimly lit darkness.
The walls trickled with moisture, a mold grew on them. One side was lined with shelves, where more boxes and bottles were piled haphazardly. A rat, scurried away from her light.
At the end of the corridor, in a relatively clean space — but for a neat pile of perfectly clean chicken bones beside it — was a black and red chest.
The Kylo chest? It was about three feet tall by three feet deep and four feet wide. A big chest.
From where she stood, now only a few feet away, Rey saw the lid lift just a crack.
A musky smell, almost sweet, wafted to Rey’s nostrils. The chicken must have smelled it too, because it clucked once and went perfectly still.
“There, there,” Rey pat the doomed bird, as much to reassure herself as the animal, “I’m sure it won’t even hurt.”
She advance another few steps, trying to see inside the coffer, but the lid closed again.
“Right. ‘The Kylo hates the light’.” She hooked the lantern on a hook on the shelf framing, and resumed her advance.
Her body made spooky shadows on the ground in front of her, creeping towards the wooden chest strapped in metal bands before her. It looked well kept, even clean.
“A toad,” Rey remembered. Those are clean animals. I just have to… to feed it and then… What? What do I do?
The chicken squawked as Rey put it down before her and pushed it forward. It turned back towards the light. Rey pushed it again, but it wouldn’t go near the chest. And Rey wouldn’t move any closer either, until she saw what kind of toad lives in a big wooden chest and could lift up that lid. She pat her pocket: the peach was there, but something told her keep it as a kind of reward for after… after it gave her its seed.
In her other pocket, grain. A miller always had grain somewhere on them, in their pockets, shoes, bags, sometimes caught between her breasts, though she shook out her dresses as best as she could. She offered some to the chicken, and the voracious bird quickly pecked the grain out of her hand.
She threw the rest towards the coffer, hoping the chicken’s gluttonous nature would betray it and it would blithely approach it. And maybe that would lure it out, instead of having to lift the lid herself and put the bird in. Maybe it’s not that big, she thought, and I’m just being chicken about—
Said chicken had wandered near the wooden box, clucking with each peck. Rey observed the lid lift again. More, more… and then, a flash of purple and the chicken was…
Gone.
Rey shrieked and ran back to the ladder that seemed impossibly far in the dim light of the abandoned lantern; she climbed up and pushed against the trap door and climbed up and was about to run out of the house screaming when she tripped on a heavy rug and fell headfirst into a wooden post, knocking herself out.
...
When she woke, she saw the cat smile at her and call out: “She’s awake!” and the witch came to her side with a bag of ice (ice? in the summer?) to put on the top of her head. Memory flashed back.
“What the hell is that thing?”
“That’s the kylo. It took the chicken?”
“Yeah, it took the chicken alright. It fucking snatched it up like a—
—like a toad?”
—like a… yeah, like a toad. You could have warned me!”
The witch sat there, not laughing, but smug, waiting.
Rey suddenly felt foolish.
“Here’s some tea, dear. I should have offered some to you before, make you relax.”
Rey took a swallow, it was warm, not hot. Sweet, with some mysterious spice in it that coloured it orange. More questions popped to her mind: “How big is that thing?”
“Oh it’s not big enough to swallow you, dear, if that’s what you’re worried about. I wouldn’t let it anyway.”
“But—”
“Did you see any teeth?”
“Any… teeth? No…”
“The worse it can do is gum at you for a while, maybe lick you. Not much else. But you have to tame it. Do you still have the peach?”
Rey pat her pocket, miraculously, the peach was intact, if bruised. Juices seeped from the bruise.
“It loves this fruit. Lure it out again with the smell. Here, bring a second one, don’t let it have it in one bite! Hum to it, a lullaby or something. And pet it, it likes that.”
“Pet it.”
“Yes, pet it. Make it trust you. If you’re gentle, it will let you pet its… what should I call it?”
“Pe— the cat supplied, trying to help, but the witch interrupted them.
“Proboscis. Yes, that the word.”
“Probo… what’s that? Toads don’t have… whatever you said.”
“Well, I said it was ‘like’ a toad. It has a big mouth and tongue, it lives in dark, humid, places. It eats pests... It reproduces when it gets a chance.”
“The ‘seed’.”
“That’s right, Rey. And to get it, you have to get it to give it to you.”
“Oh.” Oh.
“Can you do that? You can’t be that innocent, if you’re here asking for a ‘Love potion’ to trick Lord Solum’s son into getting you pregnant and marrying you.”
Said like that, it sounded almost devious.
“Now, are you willing to try again?”
The things I’ll do to get ahead in this world. “Yes.”
“Good. Now go get it, girl.”
Back in the underground, Rey crept towards the creature that would give her the last ingredient needed for the potion…
When she came close, she saw where the jug had fallen and picked it up. She gave herself a shake: who was the human here? Who was the dominant species?
Me, that’s who.
She brought out the peach, held it out before her. “Here, kylo kylo kylo. I have some sweet peach for you…”
The lid crept open again, just a little bit. Rey held the fruit closer, gave it a little squeeze. Juice oozed out, trailed down her fingers. And then a thing happened. That purple tongue that had flashed and snatched up the chicken appeared again, just shyly on the edge of the chest.
Shiny, slimy, rubbery. Rey could see its tip was nimble, could see it spread to a rather large appendage. She crouched forward and presented the fruit again, expecting the creature to snatch it out of her hand.
It didn’t. I seemed… sluggish?
It’s digesting that chicken. It may not even care for desert. How do I make it interested? She touched the edge of the chest, found it to be covered in rubbery flesh, like lips.
This creature… it’s part of the chest, not just ‘in it’. Like… a clam?
She rubbed the fruit on the lips. The tongue moved to meet it, and the tip licked at it.
“There,” she made soothing noises, “that’s it. You can have this peach, if you let me… you let me pet you.”
Pet where? It’s tongue? Rey squeezed more juice onto the tip of that organ, slowly. The cover lifted a little more… When a second, thinner appendage reached out, Rey’s heart jumped a little, surprised, but she stayed put. She had come this far, the witch would not betray her, the creature was not dangerous — to creatures of her size, anyway. Maybe it would lick her a bit, like animals do.
Rey could see a little further into the chest-like box: there was still a lot of shadow, but the inside did look a bit like a clam, now. A big, purple clam. With funny tentacles, and there, near the back, off to one side, was a dark, cylindrical protrusion. There was no doubt as to what it was.
“It’s a penis!” Rey whispered. “Why, that tricky witch!”
The ‘proboscis’ lay on the bottom of the box, dark and fat and soft. Totally content to just rest there. Meanwhile, the new tentacle was still reaching out for the promised fruit.
Rey thought it was being rather nice about it. Like it knew it should wait… and then she realized the thing had most probably been trained to be patient.
Gods above — and below — what a creepy thing to keep in one’s basement. Now what do I do?
Give it some fruit, piece by piece, she remembered. No knife: Rey took a bite of the fruit and brought it near the tentacle.
The thing’s tip could invert, and it suctioned onto the offered bite, and brought it to its main tongue, and dropped it in. The chest rumbled, a pleased sound. Rey took another bite, offered it again.
The tentacle reached blindly, found the underside of her hand, where juices ran, and sucked gently on her skin — kisses seeking the fruit — until Rey inverted her grasp to touch the rose flesh to it. Again, it grasped it, and brought it into its mouth. The tongue licked along its lips, coating them with a sheen: saliva. It rumbled again.
From above, at the limit where wooden planks met earthen cavern walls, she heard banging. A stick or a cane, and the voice, asking:
“How’s it going in there? Is Kylo responding? Or is it sleeping?”
Rey shouted back: “It’s awake! It’s interested.”
“Good, good. Well, have fun!” The steps walked away.
’Have fun’ again. I should just hurry up.
But she didn’t see how she could just reach into the kylo’s body and grab its cock to stimulate it. That would be a little rude.
So she bit off a third bite of the fruit and offered it. A second tentacle rose from apparent slumber, and reached for her hand. The tip was flattened; it licked at her fingers, caught the piece, and disappeared with it. The first one, however, replaced it and continued to explore her hand. More kisses.
Rey suddenly realized she was feeling hot. She knelt before the coloured chest, but her knees protested the hard-packed ground. She removed her apron to put under her knees, for her comfort. Still uncomfortable. Then she removed her cote, and put it over her apron to keep it clean. There. Better.
With the next proffered bite, she tentatively reached to caress the tentacle that was touching her. It liked that, and the whole chest rumbled again. Rey ran her fingers along the lips, let the large tongue lick her hand. A new tentacle reached out and softly grasped her wrist, and stroked it a few times before releasing it and sucking on her fingers.
Now Rey felt a blush creep up her throat. She looked down into the fleshy folds of the kylo, thought the coal-and-cream-mottled cock had swelled a bit. She wasn’t quite ready to stick a hand — indeed her whole arm — in there to reach it.
Pet it. Be gentle.
She squeezed the rest of the pulpy fruit in her hand over the maw that had slowly continued to open, where that huge tongue trembled with pleasure at the taste and lapped it up, and dropped the rest of the fruit into it, where it was folded away inside the creature. Two more tentacles reached to her, and Rey chose one and stroked it. It stiffened for her, stabilizing its position so Rey could give it some good pumps. With her other hand, she continued to pet the large purple tongue and its rubbery lips, and they detached from the wooden sides, revealing they were more mobile than she thought.
They moved under her caress, trembled slightly, and the rumble became a purr.
With both hands occupied, Rey watched as one approached her face, and when it kissed her chin where juices had run, she understood its intentions, but didn’t welcome that intimacy, she pushed it away, and it fell back to find one of her hands, to wrap around it, tip flattening out, and now slithering into her sleeve.
Rey didn’t much like that either, so she took off her gown. Now she was in her sleeveless shift.
That made the tentacles very excited, and they caressed her, her arms and her back, just as she caressed them, and wrapped around her, but Rey felt strangely safe, maybe a little slow, a little numb. Relaxed.
The tea, she thought briefly, then resumed her creep towards the attractive cock within the kylo’s maw.
Tentacles reached her head, pulled on her hair to lose it, strands fell into her mouth and Rey brushed them away, spreading slime on her lips doing so. She licked her lip reflexively.
Oh, this is sweet! Like the tea she served me. She must have had just enough for an infusion, not enough for the potion.
A Love potion.
Rey’s body was hot, breaking into a sweat, the tentacles were reaching further under her clothing, and Rey, in a soft daze, let them. Two found her breasts. They caressed them, their tips flattening out to rub her nipples until she felt them harden. Then they changed to suckers again and that was a very pleasant sensation.
“Good Kylo,” she murmured, understanding the exchange. The tentacle she had been stroking was starting to exude a thick liquid, and Rey tasted it from her fingers. Yes. This was the same substance… but it was not ‘the seed’ if the stiffening black and now rose-mottled cock was her goal. She continued to stroke the one in her hand, and it continued to leak, and Rey decided to taste the slimy liquid right from the source and licked the tip. It kissed her tongue, and Rey, already half-drunk, opened her mouth to suck on it in turn.
Sweet, sweet nectar, a slow leak, a trickle. Pumping it didn’t increase the flow, but the tentacles on her breasts were sucking them in earnest now, sending delicious shivers to her core.
And the fourth one finally found something to do. It slithered under her long-shirt, up her thigh, and found her folds.
Slick was pooling within her folds, not just the kylo’s slime, and Rey was feeling more and more aroused and willing to let the creature caress and kiss her, and lick and suckled on her body. The tentacle between her legs rubbed forcefully back and forth against her folds, pushing up, up until Rey understood she was to stand.
The lid flipped completely open, the flesh within filled the bottom half of the chest, slime glistened within it. The tentacle she had been stroking and sucking moved to coil around her hand, and invited her to step into the chest proper. The other tentacles moved back to wait.
“Like a bath,” Rey attempted to reason, failed, took off her boots and longshirt, and stepped into the kylo’s mouth, careful not to crush it.
She knelt down in it, and the chest purred against her body, thrilled with her collaboration.
The sensations that covered her then would be hard to describe. Pleasure, certainly, and a kind of gentleness, even affection, as the tentacles suckled everywhere they reached, and now the tongue could lick at her too, the sensitive tip nudging at her folds, rubbing licking, inquisitive, while Rey continued to caress the ones on her breasts and at her mouth, sucking the heady nectar like honey, moaning and humming on it, responding to the stimulation.
She also caressed the sides of the vessel, and further into the fleshy maw, making it quiver with its own pleasure, until she reached what she had come here to milk: the ‘proboscis’. The cock. It was big now, and firm, and its pointy head pulsed while she stroked it with both hands, trying to get what she needed from it.
“Benjamin,” she vaguely reminded herself why she was here, and continued to stroke the thing that was as long and thick and her forearm. It leaked from its morphing tip: a rose, pearl-coloured thick liquid. Just a drop or two.
Rey saw the jug on the floor; it was at least a pint to fill. Stroking the organ more firmly only coaxed a few drops at a time. Inefficient. To not waste them, she licked them.
Oh, yeah. This is the stuff.
Heat surged in her body, pleasure tingling all over, tension mounted. The kylo was going to bring her to climax, it wanted this as much as the peach. And while the tongue continued to lave at her core, a tentacle suctionned its way to her clit, latched on, and Rey was sucked over the edge.
It was a moment before she came back to herself, panting, disoriented.
But the jug was still empty.
“Good Kylo,” she praised it, a bit at a loss. What was she supposed to do? What did the creature need? “What do you want?” she asked it.
The thick tongue retreated, making way for the cock.
Of course, Rey thought. It nudged at her entrance; only the very tip could fit, probing. But it’s too big.
“It won’t fit.” Would it force her to take it? Rey shuddered, suddenly terrified: would this adventure end in her being raped by an appendage as big as a horse’s cock?
“Don’t hurt me!” she cried, trembling.
The cock moved away. A tentacle replaced it, they were much thinner. Rey, recovering from her fear, accepted the smaller intrusion, the penetration. Slimy, it thrust into her, inch by worm-like inch. Flexible, it rotated inside her, wiggling, pumping and Rey felt how fucking really was as pleasurable as her aunt had told her.
“Oooh, gooood Kylo,” she moaned, and the kylo was thrilled with the praise. But it wanted her to change position again, and the tongue and tentacles pushed and pulled at her until she was on her hands and knees inside the chest, one arm resting on the side to keep her balance while the tentacle continued to thrust into her. Was it swelling? She could feel her cunt stretch.
She panted, bitch in heat. She canted her hips. A second tentacle slipped into her cunt and thrust into her, alternating with the first one at first, then in sync, stretching her more, and Rey panted and relaxed herself, knowing the end of this exercise could only be her taking the huge horse-like cock into herself. She pictured a rose garden, on the grounds of a mansion, she imagined eating a choice of meats and fruits and deserts, having a choice of dresses to wear. Bathing everyday.
A third tentacle pushed into her, and Rey gasped a little, breathing through her nose. She fumbled around in the fleshy maw until she found the fourth one and brought it to her mouth to suck some of that narcotic serum out, to help her take both the pain and the pleasure that was surging again. She sucked on it, and it softly moved into her mouth, enjoying her throating it, squirting the soothing serum down her throat then sliding over her tongue, a kiss, a deep kiss with the monster.
Under her, the real tongue had been rolling from one breast to the other, licking her entire underside, purring in appreciation of the offered flesh. The cock swung between her legs, knocking at her, and Rey reached down to stroke it some more. Bumps and ridges trilled under her fingers.
“Soon, I think,” she told it, “I don’t know that I can stretch anymore anyway.”
And now, the fourth tentacle slipped from her mouth, and Rey knew she would discover her limit. It squeezed inside her along the other three, and all of them stilled to let it in. The abundant slime had eliminated friction, the only resistance the muscles of her cunt, who pulsed in protest, then relaxed in surrender. The last one in slid in and out while the others waited. Pulse, then relax. They’d done this before. A second tentacle started moving again. Pulse, then relax.
Rey’s groans turned into moans. A third tentacle resumed thrusting. They moved in alternation, so she was constantly filled, but could still feel their pumping motions. The tongue’s sensitive tip teased her clit. Then the fourth one slid out and they all coordinated their movements into one monstrous ram.
Rey cried out, and they eased their pressure, slimming just a bit, but it was because they were leaking more lubricant inside her. Then they slid out, one by one, the last one teasing at her ass.
Rey’s head jerked up. Would it?
“Why not? Go ahead.”
And that last one out was the first one into her ass, where a new sensation was visited within her. The others resumed suckling on her breast, the tongue tongued at her now empty cunt, pushing further in now that it could, and Rey resumed feeling the pleasure of it.
And between her legs, lying on a slimy bed of purple flesh, was the well-trained cock.
Rey picked it up and squeezed it: soft squishy flesh with a stiff core. She stroked it, using two hands to tame her slowly receding fear of it.
Just as she was nearing another climax, the large tongue left her, and her now-empty cunt was pulsing with want.
Ugh!
Rey brought the giant cock to her folds, aligned the slippery, rubbery head with her core, and then let herself drop down onto it. The pointy tip pulsed within her, the shaft was squishy, and both their fleshes yielded to the other, though Rey still grunted with the size of it, resting every few inches, panting. The lips washed closer to her, caressing her flanks, encouraging her, affectionate.
She took it in as far as she could, with a few inches to spare. The one in her ass, had moved further inside her, testing rings of muscle inside her she didn’t even know she had, adding to the sense of fullness.
And now, she had to move, to bring this ‘toad’ to a — hopefully generous — climax.
Slowly at first, Rey rose and lowered herself onto the monstrous cock, feeling every bump and every ridge, hands holding on to each side of the wooden chest; the kylo rumbled under her, letting her know she was doing the most pleasurable thing to it, and she was pleased to please it.
Up and down, juices running from her folds down her thighs, the giant tongue caressing them, her breasts fondled and suckled, and she would die, and didn’t even care because this was heaven and she was in it and it inside her.
Again, pleasure surged, and she resisted it, wanting the moment to last, to last forever.
But her resistance was moot, and she felt the first throbs of her orgasm squeeze the air from her lungs, pulsing, pushing up into her, into one long, loud cry.
The giant organ seemed to swell inside her, pulsing with its own pleasure, and finally, she felt it stream inside her, a hot torrent, jets of hot seed shoot into her, exploding her orgasm into something so intense she thought she really would die.
She almost fell over, she maybe passed out for a few seconds. The kylo held her up, thought it was itself shaking and quivering, continuing to fill her with its seed, and Rey had to wonder how she would manage to transfer all that to the jug to carry it back up to the witch to make her damn Looove potion for that stupid boy who had resisted her advances for being ‘improper’.
If he saw me now, she thought, he’d know just how ‘improper’ she could get. The tentacle in her ass slid out, and she would remember that sensation too.
The kylo’s cock gave a little shudder, and Rey realized she had to move quickly before it deflated and she lost the precious liquid and had to come back to get more…
Ugh! She reached over the side to find the jug, realized the handle was low and the opening was narrow and smooth, and knew how to transfer the seed.
This witch is living the life!
And Rey placed the jug where she could straddle it, then raised herself, up and up, until the whole ‘proboscis’ popped out with its head flared almost to the side of a fist, and Rey had to unceremoniously impale herself onto the jug, and feel the thick seed flush from her core into its intended recipient. She flexed muscle to close the gape.
There it was done. She stepped back out of the living chest, saw the kylo was all soft and sleepy now, and she gently closed the lid so it could rest. On shaky legs, she gathered her clothes, felt the second peach in a pocket and dropped it into the chest, that made no sound but gave a little rumble. Then she grabbed the filled jug, the lantern, and stumbled her way back to the surface world.
The trap door opened and the witch helped her up, rubbing sleep from her eyes,
“Here’s your fucking ‘secret ingredient’,” Rey exhaled.
The older women offered her the use of the washbasin and some towels. Rey washed the slime and ooze from herself and got dressed while the witch prepared the potion, and then sat down to wait. Petting the cat and watching the owl take off into the sunset sky to go on its own hunt.
The phial she received seemed tiny, for all the effort she had put in to get the secret ingredient and the amount she had collected.
“Oh, I told you, it’s very nutritious too. I make a fertilizer from it. I’ve nursed a few animals back to health, too. Poor things, abandoned, starving.” The cat meowed, like it was a normal cat.
Rey took the vial, thanked her, and went back to her thatched home on the meadow.
A week later she was back. The witch opened the door to her, surprised.
“Fuck this guy. Do you need an apprentice?”
~THE END~