Models: Veronica Leal & Raul Costa

There were plenty of reasons why Heather loved Halloween. For a start, there were the costumes: as a witch herself, she always found it amusing to dress up in the stereotypical pointy hat and gothic attire people expected her kind to wear. For another, there was the fact that there was no limit on how naughty said costumes could be: as a mean girl once said, ‘Halloween is the one day a year when a girl can dress up like a total slut and no other girls can say anything else about it.’ And, of course, Heather was just as partial to a good party as any other twenty-something.

However, what Heather enjoyed the most was the fact that All Hallow’s Eve was the one night when everyone actually wanted a supernatural experience. For the rest of the year a witch like her had to be careful what magic she used, what spells she cast, what potions she brewed – after all, even if she could easily lure any man into her arms, it wouldn’t do to have his angry girlfriend outing her as a sorceress.

Tonight though, all the angry girlfriends were off cheating with other guys; all the overbearing parents were out of town avoiding their delinquent kids; and all the revellers were hoping against hope they might run into a mysterious stranger who genuinely turned out to be a sexy vampire, or werewolf, or mummy.

Or, in Heather’s case, a witch.

This particular witch was waiting. Lounging alone in the room, she admired the seasonal décor. Someone had gone to great lengths to achieve the right ambience for their Halloween party, including lining the walls with creepy or gruesome portraits, stamping the floor with bloody handprints, and draping curtains of cobwebs speckled with plastic spiders from the ceiling. The place had been packed when she entered, but a wiggle of Heather’s fingers had been enough to give everybody the idea simultaneous idea that there was more fun to be had elsewhere in the house.

Now she sat patiently on the leather pouffe, her black silk costume reflecting the soft lights. The bust was just low enough to allow a glimpse of her areolas, while her stockings made her legs glossy as marble, twice as flawless, yet infinitely more supple.

Heather was just running her fingers along the rim of her pointy black hat when she felt it: someone had activated her spell.

In her mind’s eye she could see him holding her enchanted mask. It was a Guy Fawkes mask, the face fixed in a perpetual smile as if the mask itself knew what would happen when somebody put it on. Heather had slipped it amongst a display of severed body parts on the windowsill in the conservatory.

The man holding it was hardly a man at all. Gangly, wide-eyed and pale enough that he needed no makeup to look the part of the vampire he was dressed as, he was clearly far outside his comfort zone at this party. Heather didn’t know him – she didn’t know anybody here, though nobody had thought to ask if the pretty girl in the silky witch costume had actually been invited – but it was clear to her that whoever he’d arrived with hadn’t bothered to stick with him and now he was adrift in a sea of sexy outfits and underlying lust.

Fortunately, Heather’s magic mask was more than willing to soothe his nerves. Drawn in by the enchantment and without quite knowing why the man slipped it into place.

Closing her eyes, Heather watched him transform in her mind.

In a matter of seconds he was several inches taller, his limbs elongating to assume the right proportions for his new height. As they grew, they also swelled, sinews and tendons and muscle fibres all piling atop one another to fill out his skinny frame. Though his new physique wasn’t the burliest in the room (that title went to a slab-faced jock dressed as Frankenstein’s Monster), the new man was visibly athletic even through his outfit, which had restitched itself into a more flattering fit.

The man’s messy mop of hair was trimmed and snipped by unseen hands, the top swept over into a slick oiled quiff while the sides were shaved to barely a shadow. That same shadow quickly spread across his jaw in the form of fine stubble where he was previously clean-shaven. Though his face was hidden beneath the mask, the way it shifted slightly informed Heather that his features were changing too and her mind danced with ideas of what handsome face was now concealed beneath.

Heather didn’t need any magic to hear the cry of pleasure he gave as his crotch swelled. His orgasmic bellow rolled up the stairs, signalling that the mask had gifted him with an extra punch in his boxers – more than enough to satisfy a certain mischievous witch, in fact.

Finally, as if to emphasise just how dramatically different the man had become, his outfit reformed too. The frilly white tunic, long cape and poorly-fitting leather trousers were soon gone, replaced by a crisp black shirt tight enough to boast his impressive physique beneath, equally complementary dark jeans that emphasised his ample bulge, and a pair of slick patent dress shoes. Whereas before the man looked like Dracula’s son trying on his dad’s clothes, this new figure was sleek and sophisticated and swathed in an air of enticing mystery.

Despite his increasingly erotic groans, nobody else in the room even spared the man a second glance. Like oil on water, the sight of his transformation never seemed to penetrate their thoughts; their eyes simply rolled over him as if they didn’t know he was there.

Now they saw him though. His metamorphosis complete, he stood breathing heavily while every female eye in the room (and a few of the men too) turned to admire this tall, stylish stranger. Lips were bitten, thighs were squeezed together and stomachs flipped as they fantasised about just a few seconds in his arms.

But the new man wasn’t interested in them. There was only one woman on his mind. Drawn irresistibly to her side, he strode from the room and into the packed hallway.

With a devious smile on her lips, Heather allowed the image in her mind to fade. Sinking to the floor, she crawled across to kneel in front of the white leather armchair opposite the pouffe. There she waited.


Music and laughter tumbled through the door as he entered. The eyes of everybody in the corridor were on him, bright with lust, but he ignored them all and a heartbeat later he’d shut them all out, silencing the pulse and chatter of the party with them.

Turning to face him, Heather gave the masked man an impish smile. ‘Good evening, handsome. I’ve been waiting for you.’ She patted the seat of the armchair. ‘Come sit down here next to me. You have something that belongs to me.’

Heather wasted no time showing the man what she considered her property.

Almost before he had sat down all his lower garments were around his ankles. His stiff cock swung up into Heather’s waiting hand and she cast him a sultry smile while running her fingers up and down his shaft.

‘I gave you this, you know,’ she said, her voice alluring as a siren’s song. ‘This face, this body, and especially this dick, they’re all born of my magic. And since my spell transformed you, every inch of your deliciously handsome new form belongs to me.’ Her smirk was distilled mischief. ‘And since you’re so yummy I think I’ll have a taste.’

With that, her tongue was on his dick.

Heather had waited long enough for this, so she didn’t bother pacing herself. Though her strokes were steady and sensual she was still driven by pure self-satisfaction. Licking soon led to kissing, which in turn led to suckling, then she had his dick buried in her throat muffling her horny groans as she feasted. Her lips glided up and down, her whole body rocking with the motion so that the tip of her pointy hat quivered as if it felt the same excitement whirling through Heather’s insides. All the while her delicate fingers clasped the base of his shaft – a gentle but potent reminder not to move away.

Unsurprisingly, the man never bothered testing Heather’s patience. Breathless gasps and long moans slipped through the mask and Heather smiled as she imagined the intense pleasure contorting the man’s unknown features. She could see his eyes – ice blue yet melting with arousal – and she never broke his gaze; with every lift and fall of her head as she swallowed him deep her pretty brown eyes were fixed on his.

It was impossible to tell how long she went down on him: time was meaningless in this room.

Eventually though she pulled away, her pink lips glistening with precum-infused saliva. She made a show of licking them clean before slinking across to the pouffe again.

By now her lover was slumped in his armchair, chest heaving and gleaming with sweat (Heather had taken the liberty of unbuttoning his shirt so she could caress his abs while blowing him). He was completely and utterly hers: any echoes of the man he’d once been had faded once he saw Heather, and now she had worshipped his cock until he was so close to orgasm it was almost painful not to cum he had truly fallen for her.

When he finally looked up he found her watching him with eyes like diamonds of concentrated lust.

‘I think it’s time we take things up a notch, baby. After all, Halloween is when a witch’s powers are the strongest, so I say we make the most of the magic while we can. I could even seal you in this body permanently if you wanted. Most witches prefer an animal as their familiar, but personally I prefer to get more… well, familiar with my familiar.’ A smile worked its way over her lips. ‘But that’s a role you’ll have to earn. Don’t go thinking you’re worthy of my affections just because you were drawn to the mask: it’s what you do with this body now you have it that decides whether you get to keep it or not. The real question is…’

She paused for a moment. Reached back. Pulled up her dress so it bundled around her hips. She was wearing nothing underneath, her tanned ass bare and her twinkling pussy just visible amidst the shadows between her thighs. Heather looked back at her man as she finished her sentence. ‘Do you think you’re up to the challenge?’

Unwilling to disappoint her, the masked man didn’t leave her waiting. He closed the distance between them in a single breath; his broad hands found her hips, tattoos showing across his knuckles. Holding her in place he pressed the head of his cock against her flushed wet folds, the shaft twitching when she let out a breathy moan.

On all fours, she titled her ass up towards him a little and faced him over her shoulder. ‘Go on, baby. Show me what you’ve got. Prove to me that the mask chose the right man and I’ll make sure you never want for pleasure ever again.’

Without a word, the man obliged. From the moment he plunged into her tight pussy, Heather knew she’d keep him as her familiar: the mask had conjured up a truly extraordinary stud the likes of which she could never bring herself to put back in the bottle.

Of course, she didn’t tell him that. Better to let him think he still had to prove himself – especially if it meant he would continue fucking her like this. Because his invading cock went in balls deep with every rock of his hips, the base stretching her sex as far as she could handle while the tip probed so far her belly bulged. Heather’s sensual sighs and giddy giggles danced through the air as he fucked her, meeting and coalescing with his horny grunts to fill the room with a thick atmosphere of lust.

Before long words failed them and they sank into a state of mindlessly erotic desire. Driven by carnal urges, they allowed the world around them to fade away. And while their colliding skin clapped a steady beat, Heather’s mind swirled with all the fiendish spells she could cast on him before the night was up. First on the agenda: a kink for spanking his lovers…

Thanks for reading!

I must be honest, I feel like this one is a bit long-winded and could have worked just as well if it was a bit shorter. That said, when I was editing it I couldn’t bring myself to shave it down, so while this final product is admittedly longer than I’d like I’m still happy with the end result. Particularly because the model in this, Veronica Leal, really makes the scene pop in my opinion. I’m going to try and keep things on the shorter side moving forward if I can just to make sure I’m not struggling for time to get them finished, but I hope to intersperse those stories with longer ones as and when I can.

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