Page 57 of A Foster Fling

“I didn’t put you under a spell,” I try to reason with him. “Please let me go and leave my house.”

He rips my dress open down the front, exposing my wet bra and goose pimpled flesh.

“Stop!” I shriek, but he’s too far gone. My words are no longer penetrating the fog he’s slipped into.

“My wife and I have suffered at the hands of a witch. Her curse has stayed with us for years. I’ll be damned if I become victim to another.”

“No, no, no…” I struggle, I fight, but in the end, it does nothing to save me from the wrath of this man.

I’m thrown to the stairs, the sharp edges biting into my back, and I scream out from the sudden pain. I barely have time to recover before he’s on top of me, his teeth sinking into the swell of my breasts.

I can feel blood beginning to trickle down my torso as he rips my bra off my body. My eyes drift upward, staring at the spiraling stone interior. I drift away as I feel him lift my skirt up over my waist. My body goes completely numb, the limbs dangling limp along the stairs. I can’t stop him. I’ll just have to endure it.

One, two, three, four … I count the stones as I hear him shuffle out of his pants, then the warm, hard feel of his cock. This right here is what mother enjoys. A large, hard cock. The thought has me blinking out of my numb state, and I lift my head to find Abbe lining his cock up with my entrance.

If mother enjoys it, why can’t I?

His eyes meet mine as he pushes into me. It’s uncomfortable, but not entirely unpleasant. I can see shock flit over his face with the change in my attitude. I want to have a cock I enjoy as well. So I spread my legs more, giving him room to push his way in.

“You are a witch,” he says on a groan. “So tight.”

There’s a sharp pinch of pain, and I gasp as it radiates outward, but he doesn’t stop. Once he’s all the way in, I drop my head back to the stairs, my pussy feeling stretched and full. I feel myself clench around him, making him hiss and grind into me. I begin to feel the same tingling sensation Pearl gives me, and I smile slowly.

A cock is something I can enjoy.

“I need to break the spell, I need to break it now,” Abbe is mumbling above me as he thrusts roughly in and out of me. “It feels too good.”

The pain increases, but so does the pleasure, and just before it’s about to explode, Abbe’s face appears over mine.

“You aren’t supposed to be enjoying this, witch.” His teeth grit together, giving him a sadistic appearance. “You aren’t supposed to strengthen the spell.”

I open my mouth to tell him I’m not, but his fingers sink into my thick bun on top of my head, and he lifts my face to his. I can see the anger shining clearly, but it’s the lust that’s most prominent.

Then, with little warning, he slams my head against the stone stair, sending me into a black void.

——

I’m so cold.

My body trembles with the chill of a breeze, and I groan because I must’ve left the window open again. I try to turn in my bed, but my cheek hits a sharp stone, making me gasp with pain. Slowly, I open my eyes, and find I’m lying on the cold stairs of the tower with the iron door standing wide open.

I struggle to push myself to sit, and that’s when I see the blood on my dress, which is ripped from my breast to lower torso. My bra is also ripped in the center, and my breasts are exposed to the cold air coming in through my open door.

Wait.

I stare wide-eyed out into the darkened night. The thick iron door is left ajar, and the sounds of crickets are loud through my silent tower.

The room sways, then spins as I stand, then pain hits me in agonizing waves. Between my legs has a stabbing ache, my breasts smart and throb, and the back of my head… That feels like I took a sledgehammer to the skull. I take two steps, then bend over to vomit what little I had for dinner because I was waiting for…

Then it all hits me in stunning clarity. There was a storm… Abbe showed up without his horse… He attacked me… His cock was between my legs … inside of me… I wanted it … just like Pearl… Then it’s all black.

Abbe thinks I’m a witch.

I touch the back of my head and wince when I feel the large lump. He smashed my head into the stone step. My fingers pull away, stained red with my blood. He was afraid I put a spell on him.

Could I have?

My fingers find the cold iron of the door, and I use all my strength to push it shut, then fall against it as I turn each lock into place.