SANDRA RUBY WITCH
Sandra was a jungle babe who lived
close to nature much as her ancestors, the Amazon Women, had done a thousand
years before. A seventh generation witch of immeasurable power and cunning, she
was a feared lady who could manipulate to get her way when she desired to, backed
up with spell work in light and dark magic with her full intent behind it. She
had never yet failed in any magical practice. Would success always be Sandra’s?
Her fighting talents were equal to any man where her slim lithe size let her
down; her advantage was a skilled eye, good hand to eye co-ordination and
excellent talents across the board overcoming any bigger opponents. With flame
red hair and green eyes, Sandra was always noticed when she popped into town
for provisions when she wasn’t able to find what she needed in the forest. This
was a rare event. Her world of trees gave her most things, everything except
strong men. A trip into town was necessary to ensnare a few men from the local
logging firm who were intent on stealing her trees. It was time for a bit of
feminine pay back. Her flaming temper matched her fiery hair; she was a panther
waiting to strike and never missed her target when it was in her sights. Nor
was she ever defeated; she was a ruby girl who had a simple weapon separate
from her skills and power – her sexuality. Every man fell for this; she knew it
wouldn’t fail her again. There was something about being born in July that gave
her a huge amount of magical power and closeness to the natural world.
Walking into town Sandra looked around,
taking in the surroundings. It wasn’t much of a town, just a store for provisions,
a bank, some wooden storage huts, several shops, two hotels, a dozen
dilapidated shacks where the inhabitants lived and a single bar. This is where
she traipsed in, barging through the twin wooden doors like she owned it. Here
the loggers worked hard and drank even harder. They didn’t like women in their
bar, only in the back room to fuck them and most of those were paid whores.
Three men glared at the witch, she in turn returned it. She picked her victim
and looked him up and down him. He snarled at her, “We don’t welcome bitches in
here, only in the back room. Go through and I’ll fuck you when I’ve had my
whiskey!”
“I will deal with you in the back
later, we’ll see just how much of a MAN you are, won’t we?” replied the flame
haired witch. She held her hands out and turned around, her gaze sweeping the
room and the unkempt figures. All eyes were on the woman who dared to challenge
the basic rule of man in this rough bar. She took charge in a single
sentence:
“Right barman, give this lot a double
shot of your strongest whiskey and don’t put any ice in. I wanna see the twats
down it in one. And give me two!”
One man got up to challenge the woman
but his mate firmly placed a hand on his colleague and gave him a stern look –
let’s see what this bitch wants then we can sort her out! He sat back down and
swore under his breath. The witch downed one glass of spirit and then picked up
the other glasses and took them over to the men. She placed a single glass in
front of each man and then her own on the table, “Don’t mind a woman joining
you, do you?”
Stern gazes met her own but no words of
refusal were offered. Good, this was a positive result. The men would never
turn down free liquor even if a woman bought it. They drank it quickly and
without emotion. Loggers were a tough breed of man who hit first and asked
questions later.
“I see my booze is good enough for you
then? Right come on then! We can go into the back room now so you can fuck me
like a whore, if you still want to?” Sandra announced, baiting the man who
wanted to fuck her, would he refuse or go along? If he backed down his respect
was gone forever in the eyes of his friends. He nodded and downed his drink,
“I will fuck you good and hard bitch
just like a two bit whore. Lets do it then, I’m sure you know the way to the
back room!”
“I know the way but I’ll follow you,
right? Do you trust your back to a woman?”
“No funny business or my mates here
will shoot you down dead and rape your corpse, won’t you boys?” shouted the
unshaven man, getting up to lead the way into the room, his eyes on Sandra. The
sound of two large pistols being clicked and placed onto the rough table backed
him up, their threats were obvious but she was smart girl. She would defeat
them in her own time and in her own way.
“No trouble lads, I promise. I just
want to be fucked by your friend, no more, no less.”
“Good then lets fuck,” nodded the man
leading the way. The woman followed, in turn all eyes were on her. Both men
fancied their own chances with the strange woman, they were both used to
getting their own way, no matter what it took. When their mate and woman were
out of sight they returned to their whiskeys and planned quietly amongst
themselves how to rape her. Would she go along with them or was force needed?
Turning to the barman one ordered some more whiskey.
In the room Sandra faced the man, she
looked him up and down; he was tall about 6ft 3 with a rugged weather beaten
face slightly tanned. Muscles fought to escape under his sweaty blue shirt,
half an ear was missing from some previous bar fight or accident and his grey
cold eyes missed nothing. He was definitely one to watch but she had a lot of
skills just for a man like this, still she liked a challenge. His hands moved
to her waist and he brought the witch towards him, she didn’t resist. She would
get her revenge upon this logger who chopped down her trees and harmed her
Goddess Mother Nature; her own brand of justice would be done without mercy.
His body smelt of stale sweat and cigarette smoke, with one hand he took a fag
out of his packet of smokes and lit it with a cheap throw away lighter in a
smooth movement. Would he be able to fight as well? Breathing deeply the logger
blew the smoke out of his nose and placed the crumpled packet on the table by
the dirty single bed. He didn’t offer the woman a smoke. She would have
refused.
Standing on her tiptoes Sandra kissed
the dirty logger, his breath tasted of stale booze and nicotine. He took a long
drag of his fag and kissed the woman before him again, his free hand moved
slowly down her back to her arse. Grabbing it he thrust her towards him and
rubbed his crotch against hers, his cock was hard poking through his dirty
trousers. It was obvious what he wanted. He finished his cigarette and threw
the glowing stub onto the bare wooden floor, not caring if the boards caught
fire, it wasn’t his bar and not his problem. Sandra kissed him and inched him
over to the dirty bed, nodding her intentions. He gruffly commented, “Yes bitch
you know what I want now don’t you? A good hard fuck with you. Right now.”
“Yes we will. Take your clothes off
then and we can get on with it, show me what you’re packing. I wanna see how
big your cock is. Do you like my tits? I bet you do, yes?” Sandra replied,
stepping back from the man and taking her top off. Her purple blouse fell to
the dirty floor. Wide-eyed the logger smiled, his grey eyes sparkling with
lust. With one hand he removed his jeans and underwear. Stepping out of them he
grabbed Sandra’s black lacy bra and forcibly removed it, breaking the fastener.
Her slightly tanned tits flopped out, each one standing proud with a nice
nipple and aureole. He bent his head and sucked her boobs, biting her nipples and
making the witch swear, this drove him onwards to claw her back and stomach
with his dirty nails. Red lines marked his roughness, again he did it drawing a
thin line of blood and sucking her tits. He moaned under his breath and forced
the woman over to the bed, finding her jeans button he removed them in an
awkward effort to reveal her shaved legs and bushy pussy. He left his stinking
top on and pushed the girl onto the bed and whispered, “Now I’m going to fuck
you good and hard!”
“Come on then don’t just boast about
it. My legs are open and my cunt is wet and waiting just for you!” she offered,
looking at him seductively.
“Here we go then you bitch! When I’ve
fucked you my two mates can, think you can handle us one after the other?” he
retorted. Like a caveman, he slapped his chest.
“Bring it on you slag,” boasted the
woman, now playing her role of seducer and warrior woman. This was a war and
she would win. When the loggers were dead they would fell no more trees. She
was the forest’s protector.
“That’s the spirit! You know us men are
the boss, eh? We cut the trees down and fuck whom we want including you. That’s
right, guide my cock up your tight cunt!” ordered the brown haired logger,
smiling cunningly. His cock was five inches long and slightly bent, it slid up
Sandra’s cunt and he thrust savagely away fucking her cunt enjoying her
wetness. She was quite tight and groaned, moving with him giving him what he
wanted, a quick fuck in a dirty bed in the backroom of a dingy spit and sawdust
bar in a remote logging town.
Enjoying each thrust Sandra nailed his
back to drive him on and claim his life; already he was her’s, his salvation
was far too late. His small cock pumped into the red haired woman who he took
for a whore, not a witch of the forest, a warrior of nature fighting to defend
the trees and natural world. Roughly he kissed her his stubble rubbing her face
and stinging her smooth skin, she bit his lip and snogged him hurriedly. Driving
on he fucked her, pumping her deeply and swiftly, coming onto his orgasm rising
up in his body giving him another notch on his bedpost.
Sandra closed her eyes and invoked her
Great Mother Goddess in her mind and ordered her to take the life of this mere
mortal man who was now fucking a witch and who had killed thousands of little
trees. His spunk flew forth up her cunt, the logger groaned and screamed in his
native language of Spanish. She had her orgasm not wanting to be left out. Moaning
and groaning Sandra bit the man, drawing a big line of red blood and it was
warm, tasting coppery. He shouted and muttered, then slapped the witch savagely
leaving a rosy imprint on her cheek. She bucked and matched his moves till
their sex was over; he breathed in deeply and took his last breath collapsing
into her arms – dead. Shoving the lifeless body off her she quickly stood up.
She had claimed her first victim and planned the next one, the logger’s comrade
who drank in the bar but which one? The quiet one would do, decided Sandra. From a necklace around her neck she withdrew
a single small ruby crystal from a skin pouch. Holding up the small rock to the
light that came through the dim window she looked at the crystal, it shone and
glittered like a demon eye of a monster. Fastening the pouch, Sandra rolled the
dead logger’s body over and looked at his lifeless face – he looked like he was
sleeping. Opening his mouth she put the small crystal inside underneath his tongue
then quickly put him under the small single bed, out of sight and mind.
