4- The Sorceress Series -A Witch in Time by JB57

[JB57]

Hello Board! Here is a new story, based heavily on part 2 of Kingofdapirates' story "Darkness Reborn." I found the encounter between Eve and Olga in that story to be especially stimulating and exciting. This story is heavily based on that one, especially parts 1 and 2. However, parts 3 and 4 will be much different than the original. The story is almost finished and I will post one part a week for the rest of the month.

In terms of my own stories, this fits as part of the "Sorceress" series and I have labeled it as such.

Enjoy!

JB57

A Witch in Time, Part I

Esme’s head cleared slowly. As the fog lifted, she became aware that she was lying on her side on the rough mattress of a bed that was not her own and in a room that she could not identify. She also realized that she was completely nude under the thick, soft sheet covering her lush body. The young sorceress rolled onto her back and willed her mind to clear more quickly. She did not feel that she was in danger and she knew that this confusion was a natural side-effect of the powerful spell she had used to bring her to this dimension, place and time, but that did not make her situation any less precarious.

Esme sat up in the bed and looked around, taking in her surroundings, knowing this would speed up the process of memory-recovery. The room was small, containing the large bed she was on, a sitting chair, an ornate, full-length mirror hanging on the wall, and a wash basin on a chest by the window. Sunlight streamed in the window, which was slightly ajar to let in fresh air. She could tell the time was the late afternoon, maybe early evening if she was in a northern region.

As her mind slowly settled, the door to the room opened and a young girl stepped in. The girl was thin and gawky, with straw-colored hair and light blue eyes. She started when she saw the naked woman sitting up in the bed.

“Oh! You’re awake!”

The girl was carrying a pile of clothes. She placed the pile on the chair and approached the bed tentatively. Her eyes were shy but also avid with curiosity.

Esme was grateful for the translation spell she was using. She recognized the girl’s language as a multiversal variant on German. Good, she thought to herself. This confirmed that she had probably ended up in the place and time she was targeting.

“How long have I been here, fraulein?” Esme asked.

“A bit less than a day. My father and I found you last evening, on the side of the road, just outside town. You were naked and we could not see any signs of baggage around or anything else on you. Father carried you here and called the doctor. He said he could not find anything wrong with you. You’ve been resting ever since.”

Esme nodded. The spell was performed in the nude and clothing could not survive the multiversal journey anyway. That explained her nakedness upon arrival. Another side-effect of the spell was that it put its users into a deep, deep -almost coma-like -sleep. She had protective spells placed on her but they would only activate if she encountered someone or something with hostile intent while in her vulnerable state. The people who had found her and helped her obviously had no such intent. Still, she would have preferred she had not been found. Now, it was impossible to conjure the clothing, money and other necessities to make her way in this world and create a plausible covering story. She decided her best course of action was to pretend she had amnesia -which wasn’t entirely untrue. That should forestall any difficult questions until she had a better grasp of the situation.

“What is your name?” she asked the girl.

“I am Gerda.”

“Thanks so much to your father and you, Gerda,” Esme smiled. “It is always wonderful to meet such kind, good people. I must have been attacked by bandits while I was traveling but I admit that I have no memory of it. It may come back with time.”

The girl nodded, wide-eyed. She gestured to the pile of clothes. “I brought you some clothing and some towels. My Mama picked them out. She thinks they should fit. There is also a brush and a teeth cleaner.”

“Thank you again.”

“I will tell my parents that you are awake. They will send for the doctor. He should look at you.”

“Please, don’t send for the doctor. I will be fine. However, please tell your parents. I would like to thank them profusely for their kindness.” Esme paused, then continued. “I cannot recall where I was going. What is the name of this place?”

The girl looked worried, but she replied quickly. “You are in the city of Fossen, miss. That’s about a two-day carriage ride from the capital, Reitgart. You are in a room at the inn called “The Princess and Boar.” The girl hesitated. “Are you certain that you don’t wish to see the doctor?”

“Thank you the information, Gerda. I promise that I will ask to see the doctor if my memory does not fully return soon.”

After the girl left, Esme slipped out of the bed and used the basin and a wash cloth to wash herself off. After she finished, she examined her gorgeous body in the full-length mirror, to be sure she was not sporting unseen injuries. She was a tall, black-haired beauty of 25, in the prime of her youth. Her heavy, perfectly shaped tits hung imposingly from her chest. Despite their great size and weight, the meaty glands needed no support. Thick, brown nipples crested the succulent flesh. Her abdomen was well-defined with ridged muscle centred around a deep, narrow navel. Her womanly hips curved out from her narrow waist, giving her a perfect hourglass figure. Her ass was thick, round and taut. Her legs were sculpted with muscle. Her crowning glory was her fat-lipped, clean-shaven pussy.

Esme was a sorceress. She had cast an elaborate spell to take her to a time, place and dimension in the multiversal realm where she could find a particular, powerful mystical artifact. The spell had brought her here. She was in a version of medieval Europe, in one of the many German-speaking principalities of the time, but she could sense it was a place with many differences along with similarities to the place she knew from her world.

Esme examined the clothing that Gerda had left for her. She pulled on a pair of brown traveling shorts that fit snugly to her firm butt and wide hips, and a white blouse that she buttoned up low enough to leave considerable cleavage. Her tits shifted enticingly under the rough-spun cloth. She had no undergarments. For her feet, the girl had left her flat shoes that slipped off easily. She made a mental note that she would need to find heavier boots for traveling.

Esme used the primitive toothbrush to clean her teeth and the brush to smooth out her thick black hair. Her hosts were being very solicitous.

There was a tentative knock at the door. She opened it to find Gerda standing on the threshold.

“My parents have asked that you join us for dinner. It is served in 30 minutes. Would you agree to be our guest?”

“It will be my pleasure and honour. Please give your parents my deepest appreciation. I look forward to meeting them.”

“Miss, do you remember your name?”

Esme paused for a moment, putting on a bit of an act. “Yes,” she said, “Yes, I do. It is ‘Esme Baier.’” She gave herself what she knew to be a common German surname. She almost used her real name of “Dumont” but realized she could not be sure of what the history was between this kingdom and the equivalent of France in this new world. There was a good chance that relations were tense.

Gerda excused herself and Esme went back to her bed for a brief nap, knowing that sleep was the best cure for her spell-induced memory-loss and tiredness. Traveling in time and space was always hard on the mind and body and she knew she would not be fully herself until she had another good night’s sleep.

A half hour later, Esme left her second floor room and walked to the end of the corridor, where a wooden staircase descended to the tavern below. Esme stopped at the top of the staircase and examined the big, bustling room below. Supper hour patrons were crowding in. Esme noted that all of the people in the bar, men and women, were unusually attractive, far moreso than they should be in a medieval world. She wondered if this was a strange quality of this world and dimension.

As Esme walked down the stairs heads turned and eyes lit up as the patrons took in the delicious body and beautiful face of the mysterious traveler. Esme felt the immediate attraction, the growing lust, that greeted her appearance. Inwardly, she smiled, but she avoided making eye contact with any of the lustful glances directed at her. She wanted to get a better feel of this place before she began to indulge her own desires.

Four bar maids served the crowd, all of them dressed in traditional German serving wench outfits. They were all pretty and filled out their dresses nicely, but one particular blonde woman was the standout attraction. The woman was gorgeous. Her lightly tanned flesh glowed and golden curls and flashing green eyes drew attention to her beautifully sculpted face. As she moved around the bar with trays laden with beer and heavy meat dishes, flashing an appealing smile, her bountiful chest bounced and quivered and her voluptuous hips swayed enticingly. Esme’s brown eyes followed those quivering glands and swinging hips. She licked her lips as she imagined what that succulent, meaty flesh might taste like in her mouth, what those tits might feel like, pressed tip to tip and mass to mass with her own thick rack.

An older woman approached Esme as she stood at the foot of the stairs. The woman was beautiful and voluptuous too. She seemed to be in her mid-40s. Her arm was linked with that of a handsome man of about her own age. The man sported a bushy, grey-flecked mustache and a chiseled jaw. Gerda trailed the couple.

“Welcome to our inn, Frau Baier,” the woman said to Esme in guttural German. “I am Marta Muller, the innkeep. This is my husband, Samuel. He and our daughter, Gerda, found you on the side of the road. You’ve already met Gerda, of course.”

Esme bowed low to the family. “I am Esme Baier. I am endlessly grateful to you and Gerda for rescuing me, Herr Muller, and bringing me here. I hope I can reward your kindness in some way. Until then, please accept my heartfelt gratitude.”

The handsome man smiled. “Please, call me ‘Samuel’. We did only what any decent person would do on finding a distressed traveler.”

“Please, join us,” the woman said, gesturing to a table near the center of the room. The table was already set with a hearty meal of meat and potatoes and summer greens. The party sat, Esme facing Marta and Samuel, with Gerda off to the side. A large jug of wine was on the table and Samuel filled everyone’s mugs. Even Gerda received a half mug of wine.

The older woman gave off a powerful matriarchal energy that made Esme feel at ease.

“We are glad that we were able to help you,” Marta said. “Do you remember what happened to leave you beside the road?”

“I cannot remember the details. I know who I am and why I was traveling but I can’t recall precisely what led me to be left naked at the roadside. I don’t have any indication that I was abused, though it seems strange for brigands to strip me of my clothing and yet not take further advantage.”

Samuel nodded. “The doctor said the same thing. It is good that you were not harmed, of course. But why were you traveling by yourself? Do you remember enough to tell us? It is dangerous to be a woman traveling alone, especially on the back roads.”

Esme hesitated. The cover story she had prepared before she left began coming back to her. “I am a scholar from the university in Leiden. I study local folklore and customs. I was traveling to Reitgart. I was planning to spend a few days here, doing my research, before I continue on.” She decided to tell a creative lie. “I recall leaving Leiden on a carriage, but I have no memory beyond that. When Gerda told me I was in Fossen, it sparked my memory and made me realize that this had been my temporary destination. I am glad I made it.”

Marta nodded. “If you are traveling to Reitgart, you may be linked to the Countess. That may account for your strange situation. The Countess has some strange…habits.” The blonde woman looked troubled for a moment, but then her eyes cleared and she smiled suggestively. “Well, you certainly seem like the kind of woman the Countess would like to meet. She has always been a very… intellectual woman. Very serious about her studies. She works very hard. She plays very hard too.”

Samuel smiled. “Oh yes. Back in the day, Marta spent some time…’playing’ with the Countess.”

Marta smiled at Samuel, a decidedly flirtatious grin. “The Countess is a remarkable woman. She taught me a great deal. I have done my best to pass on her lessons.”

“The Countess is so lovely!” the girl, Gerda, suddenly interjected. “I have only seen her one time when she passed through the city and visited with Mama, but she was so beautiful!” The girl appeared a little breathless as she remembered. Her eyes cleared as she looked at Esme. “But you are beautiful too, milady! Maybe as pretty as the Countess!”

Esme smiled at the compliment and decided to probe further. While her memories were still hazy, she knew that what she was looking for likely was possessed by a local sorceress and this Countess may well fit the bill.

“What’s your impression of the Countess? I’ve never met her myself.”

“Oh, she is beautiful!” Gerda repeated. “She must be quite old, yet she looks no older than you!”

“Gerda!” Marta snapped, her eyes flashing. The girl looked chastened and ducked her head. “You know you must be more careful in what you say!”

Marta looked at Esme carefully. “It is true that the Countess is …remarkably well-preserved. However, this is not something we speak of with strangers.”

Esme nodded, but she did not need to hear more. The Countess was now at the top of her list as a possible witch.

The conversation turned to other things and Esme learned as much as she could about the town and its surroundings. She knew that any bit of information could help her find the artifact she was after. The conversation could help jog her memory about important facts that she might have forgotten.

Esme allowed herself to relax, to laugh and drink and joke with the others. She enjoyed the warmth and the wine. Marta and Samuel were gregarious and excellent hosts. They were clearly well-suited for their chosen professions. Gerda was charming, too. Esme frequently caught the girl stealing shy glances at her and she realized she may have acquired a fan. The girl did see her body naked and Esme suspected that was part of what the youngster found so intriguing about her. The girl was certainly old enough to have a sexual awakening and Esme idly wondered how this experience might affect her.

As more drinks were consumed, the party’s tongues loosened even more. Around them, the din of the tavern increased as the patrons became more drunk and the dinner crowd gave way to the people coming in for a night of drink and good cheer.

Marta looked at Esme speculatively. The older woman’s cheeks were ruddy, showing she had imbibed maybe a bit too much alcohol.

“You know, a woman who looks like you could do very well in this town. But if you meet with the Countess -oh, that should be good.” She leered a bit. “I think you and the Countess are going to have a great deal of fun, indeed.”

The jug of wine on the table was empty. Marta raised her mug and the blonde, buxom barmaid that Esme had noticed earlier came over to fill it and to refill the mugs of everyone else at the table. Up close, the woman did not disappoint. Her body was every bit as luscious as Esme had thought. The woman’s dress was held up entirely by the swell of her pendulous tits, leaving her smooth, muscular shoulders bare. The dress dropped low on her cleavage, exposing a great deal of her impressive breasts. The heavy load on her chest shifted deliciously. The women’s golden locks bounced like her boobs. The bar maid’s green eyes sparkled and she shared friendly glances with the innkeep’s family. When her eyes locked with Esme’s brown orbs, however, the smile faded from her beautiful face.

The two voluptuous young women gave each other obvious stares of desire and confrontation. At this distance, they were close enough to show off their impressive chest to the other. The blonde leaned forward, her massive tits almost spilling out of her dress, the garment staying in place only by hanging on the blonde’s thick nipples, leaving a hint of areola. The blonde gave Esme a challenging eyeful as she refilled the black-haired woman's mug. The blonde definitely won the cleavage display. This did not stop Esme from thrusting out her own chest enough to roll her massive tits under her blouse. She could feel her hard nipples pushing at the rough cloth.

The standoff lasted only a few seconds before the barmaid moved on to the next table. There the men knew her and Esme watched as they panted like dogs at the blonde’s big breasts and shapely, firm ass as she took their order and filled their mugs.

Marta had watched the spicy encounter between the two buxom young vixens with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, it looks like you and Ilse have noticed each other. I knew you would, the moment I saw you coming down those steps! Like calls to like. Ilse is one of my proteges. She works for us in the bar at night. As you can see, she is very popular.”

Esme could certainly see that. Her hungry eyes followed the blonde’s rippling ass, which was so tightly gripped by her dress. Esme knew the hunger she was feeling was directly connected to her identity as a witch. Ever since she had been inaugurated into the sorcerous rites, her appetite for intense sexual pleasure had increased significantly. She could sense the same kind of needs in the blonde barmaid.

“I wonder which of you could pin the other?” Marta continued with a salacious grin. “I bet it would be a great little match.”

The barmaid glanced over at Esme and Esme returned the stare. She loosened another of the buttons on her blouse and leaned forward, allowing the blonde beauty a more generous view down Esme’s shirt, to see the heavy, meaty rounds of her tits. Esme wanted to make sure that Ilse knew there was another big breasted woman in town. Marta noticed the little taunt and smiled.

“I’m sure my customers would enjoy that show. But I think it would be best for you to retire for the night. You’ve had a tiring, stressful day and you need more sleep. Don’t worry, I’m absolutely positive that Ilse will be happy to ‘talk’ it out with you later.”

Esme glanced at Marta. The older woman was right. No matter her hunger now, Esme had a difficult day. She needed more rest and she needed to finish healing. The chesty blonde barmaid could wait for later. She did not want to ‘talk’ things out with the woman when she was at less that one hundred percent.

Esme excused herself and said her ‘good nights.” She decided to ignore the intimate challenge that was building between her and this ‘Ilse’, at least for now. As she made her way up the stairs to her room, Esme and the barmaid exchanged final, defiant stares. She could feel the blonde’s heated gaze following her up the stairs. She put a bit more swing in her ass, giving the woman something to see. The tingle between Esme’s legs spiked and her nipples tightened and throbbed. She smiled secretly to herself, her erotic hunger becoming ravenous just for a moment.

In her room, Esme stripped down and washed herself using water in the basin. She cleaned her teeth and used the brush that Gerda had left on the chair to smooth out her long, thick black hair. As she brushed, her eyes lighted on the locked room door. She had a brief vision, a spike of anticipation. If she unlocked the door, she had the distinct feeling she might wake up sometime that night to find the barmaid in her room, naked and dripping, ready to mount her and fuck her and fuck her and fuck her…

Esme grunted and pushed the image out of her mind. As much as she wanted it, especially at that moment as her sexual hunger raged like a fire in her loins, she knew that she was not ready to take on the blonde bitch. She needed her sleep. But tomorrow – well, tomorrow was another day altogether.

Esme settled onto the bed and pulled the sheets tight around her. She drifted off, falling into a deep sleep. She did not stir when the doorknob turned late in the night, after the tavern had closed, or when the lock rattled gently, or hear the gentle footsteps walking away.

To be continued: