The Swamp Witch Marked Me That Night in the Forest

Adrián was the typical library guy: skinny, quiet, one of those people who would rather read an old novel a thousand times than go to a party with strangers. That was why, when his supposed friends convinced him to go camping in the Valduerna mountains, he should have suspected something. He didn’t. He trusted them, as always.

They left him in the middle of the forest, laughing through the window as the car disappeared into the dust. They had given him an address written on a crumpled piece of paper. An address that didn’t exist.

—Relax, it’s just an adventure! —they had told him.

Adrián kicked a stone and cursed under his breath.

Idiots. How could I have believed them again?

The sun was sinking slowly, and the forest was filling with long shadows. He knew he was lost, but what really made his skin prickle was the silence. A silence too thick, as if the trees were all holding their breath at once.

Then he saw her. Among the undergrowth, a figure moved with an agility that didn’t seem human. She was kneeling beside a patch of mushrooms that gave off a faint glow, plucking herbs with long, precise fingers. Her black hair, tangled like roots, fell over her shoulders, and her skin had a weak greenish sheen in the last light of dusk.

Adrián held his breath. She was real.

She lifted her head, as if she had smelled his fear. Her golden eyes pierced straight through him and a slow smile spread across her dark lips.

—Well now… a little gift from the forest? —she murmured, rising in one fluid motion.

Adrián backed away, but tripped over a root. Before he could get up, she was already on top of him, her skirt of moss and cobwebs brushing his legs.

—Stay still, little one —she whispered, leaning in until her breath, warm and faintly bitter with herbs, stroked his face—. I was only gathering ingredients. But it looks like I’ve just found something much more interesting.

A hand with long, dirt-stained nails brushed his cheek. Adrián felt a shiver that was not entirely fear.

—W-what do you want? —he managed to stammer.

She laughed, a deep, wet sound.

—Call me Nerith. And for now I don’t want anything terrible. —Her fingers slid down to the boy’s neck and stopped over his racing pulse—. But the forest is dangerous at night, and I’m much kinder than the other things that prowl around here.

Adrián swallowed. He knew he should run. Something in those eyes kept him nailed to the ground.

—Come —she said, tugging him with impossible strength for her slender frame—. My cabin is nearby. We can negotiate your way home.

He wasn’t sure what kind of negotiation that implied, but the hungry glint in her gaze told him it wouldn’t be paid for with money.

***

Adrián’s cry was swallowed by the air when Nerith, with a strength that didn’t match her curves, hoisted him over her shoulder like a sack of straw. Her cold, slightly damp skin stuck to his as she strode forward with firm steps, indifferent to his feeble struggles.

—Put me down, damn witch! —he protested, pounding her back with his fists.

She only let out a mocking laugh that echoed between the trunks.

—How sweet. You think that hurts me.

The cabin was taller than it looked from outside, with crooked walls covered in glowing moss and vines that pulsed like veins. The door opened by itself with a creak, revealing an interior lit by greenish tallow candles. It smelled of wet earth, fermenting herbs, and something else, something almost animal.

Without ceremony, Nerith dropped him onto a worm-eaten wooden table. Thick roots burst from the floor and coiled around his wrists, tightening.

—Don’t move, little mouse. You wouldn’t want them to tighten any more —she warned, running a dark tongue over her lips.

Adrián gasped as the bindings pulled taut against his skin.

She leaned over him. Her breasts, barely contained by a bark-and-cobweb corset, brushed his torso. Her breath smelled of blackberry wine.

—Now… what do I do with you? —she murmured, sliding a hand over his chest until it stopped over his pounding heart—. I could keep your fear. Or maybe you’d rather give me something of your own free will.

—W-what thing? —he stammered.

Nerith smiled, showing sharp teeth.

—That’s for you to decide, human. Your blood… or your obedience.

***

The fireplace burst to life with a roar and bathed the cabin in a reddish glow that danced over the twisted walls. Nerith untied the laces of her moss dress and let it fall to the floor with a damp whisper.

Her body was a mix of threat and temptation. Skin greenish like old moss, yet soft, crossed by ancient scars that glowed with marks he couldn’t decipher. Wide hips swayed with every step. Heavy breasts swung over her torso, crowned by dark nipples. Adrián, still tied up, swallowed. Fear and desire wrestled inside him, but his body had already chosen a side: his cock throbbed traitorously beneath his clothes.

—Looks like something does want to play —she said, and ripped his clothes away with one swipe.

The cold air brushed his bare skin, but the real shiver came when the witch’s mouth descended on him. Nerith didn’t suck like a woman. She devoured. Her tongue, longer than normal and rough like a cat’s, wrapped around him in serpentine motions. Her cold lips created an electric contrast against his burning skin, and when Adrián moaned, she sank her fangs lightly into his thigh, savoring that blend of fear and pleasure.

—Mmm… sweet —she murmured, while one hand raked his belly and left red marks that glowed faintly.

Adrián arched his back, trapped between terror and ecstasy. He knew it was dangerous. He knew she could tear him apart. But when she looked at him with those golden eyes full of dark promises, he understood there was no turning back.

The roots released him and she dragged him onto a bed of moss and furs that creaked beneath their bodies. Nerith settled over his face, her heavy hips demanding.

—Lick, human —she ordered, her voice thick with menace—. Or you’ll regret it.

At first he obeyed with disgust, the tip of his tongue barely brushing that skin that smelled of earth and sage. But then a sweet taste, like honey mixed with spiced wine, flooded his mouth. It was addictive. Too addictive. Adrián moaned against her, sinking deeper, his hands, once trembling, now clutching her hips as he served her with a devotion he didn’t recognize in himself.

Nerith did not waste time. With expert fingers and tongue she tortured his cock: licking, nibbling, sealing her mouth around it and sucking hard, as if she wanted to rip his soul out through there.

—That’s it… good human —she whispered between caresses, digging her nails into his thighs to keep him still.

Adrián was no longer thinking of escape. His body burned and only begged for more.

—P-please… —he moaned, drunk on that sweet torment.

She laughed, dark and satisfied.

—Please what? —she asked, squeezing his throat with one hand while the other quickened its rhythm on him.

***

With a growl, Nerith spat into her palm and prepared herself before looming over him. Her monumental hips dropped in one sudden motion and took him all the way inside.

—Aaah! —Adrián’s cry broke into a choked whimper, his nails digging into the furs of the bed. It was too much. Too tight, too hot.

She didn’t wait for him to adjust. Her hips slammed into him with a ferocious rhythm, each thrust accompanied by a wet, obscene sound. Inside, she clenched around him with impossible precision, milking him without mercy. Her breasts swayed in the air as she leaned down to sink her fangs into his shoulder.

—Damn… witch… —he gasped, but his body was not lying: he lifted his hips to meet hers, desperate for more.

—Yes… admit it —growled Nerith, sinking deeper—. You’ve never felt anything like this, have you?

He couldn’t deny it. Nothing in his books had prepared him for this. Each time she came down to the hilt, a wave of heat wrapped around him, as if a thousand tongues were licking him from the inside. When she rose, his body refused to let her go. And then he felt it: a pressure that wasn’t natural, growing, dragging him toward the edge.

—You’re going to come, human… and you’re going to do it for me! —she roared, squeezing his throat.

Adrián had no choice. With a shattered moan he exploded inside her, each spasm more intense than the last, while the witch laughed and kept riding him, prolonging his agony.

—Mmm… delicious —she murmured, rubbing against him to wring out the last drop.

But when Adrián, panting, thought it was all over, she smiled, showing all her teeth.

***

Nerith stood up and walked to a corner full of jars and hanging bundles. She tore up a handful of plants: a root that seemed to whimper when touched, petals that glowed with a purple shine, something soft that throbbed in her hand. She chewed them with delight, green juices dripping down her chin while he watched, terrified and hypnotized.

—No… wait —he tried to protest, but she was already on top of him, gripping his jaw hard.

She passed the mixture to him with her tongue and forced him to swallow. The taste was bitter, spicy, electric. Adrián coughed, feeling the brew burn down his throat.

And then his body reacted. A liquid fire ran through his veins. His cock, which had only just begun to relax, hardened again, but this time differently: more sensitive, throbbing with an almost painful need.

—Now, my little toy —she whispered, closing her hand around him—, let’s see how much you can take.

This time there was no preamble. She impaled herself in one leap, her insides even hotter than before, as if they had molded themselves to her shape. Every movement was calculated to torture him: slow to the point of agony, fast to the point of dizziness. When he closed his eyes, she dug her nails into his chest to force him to look.

—Look at me when I break you, human —she roared, speeding up until the bed creaked beneath them.

Adrián couldn’t take it anymore. The brew had multiplied his pleasure, but also his limit. Each thrust pushed him toward the edge, and she would not let him fall. Not yet.

—P-please… I can’t —he begged, tears mixing with sweat.

Nerith smiled, wickedly.

—Of course you can. And you will.

***

Hours, or perhaps days, passed in a whirl of flesh, magic, and forced ecstasy. When the sun filtered its first rays through the cracks in the cabin, Adrián woke alone. His body ached, but there was no blood. His mouth tasted of herbs and sour milk. And on his chest, a black mark pulsed softly, in sync with his heart. He didn’t remember everything, but something inside him knew: Nerith had let him go. For now.

Days later he managed to find his way back to civilization. Despite his gaunt appearance and the bruises poorly hidden under his clothes, he reported his friends for leaving him behind.

—It was just a prank! Look, nothing even happened to you —they defended themselves, laughing awkwardly while he stared at them with cold eyes.

But he knew the truth. He couldn’t explain it, though something inside him had changed. The nights felt endless, and his mind kept wandering back to the forest, to the hidden cabin, to her.

When the holidays came, Adrián packed a backpack with the essentials: a flashlight, a knife, canned food. He didn’t tell anyone where he was going. The forest welcomed him like an old acquaintance, the trees bowing like accomplices as he advanced, his heart caught between nerves and longing. That black mark guided him like a magnet to the only place where he was no longer the library mouse, but something else.

Through the fog the cabin appeared. Nerith was there, hanging freshly hunted rabbits from a beam, her claws stained with dried blood. She did not turn when he approached. She only smiled.

—Slower than I expected —she murmured, while Adrián’s trembling hands closed around her waist and his face buried itself against her body, which still smelled of herbs, sweat, and power.

She laughed, a deep sound that made the air vibrate, and stroked his hair with bloodied fingers.

—You liked my little gift, didn’t you? —she whispered, referring to the mark burning on his skin.

Adrián did not answer with words. He closed his teeth gently over her flesh, a gesture halfway between submission and defiance. The witch growled, satisfied.

—Good. Now come. I have things to show you.

Come back whenever you want… or when you can’t help it. That was what she had whispered to him one night, running a finger over his swollen lips. And Adrián always came back. Because the forest was no longer his escape, but his home.