It was Monday, the first day of October. It was a beautiful fall day. The air was crisp, the leaves in full color. Salem is such a simple but fascinating place. It still has a very old-world, colonial feel. Walking through town, the old shops and restaurants are quaint and fascinating. That Puritan and witch theme is still used for people vacationing in the area. I own a coffee and doughnut shop, The Witches Brew. I know; pun intended. In my off time, I am a witch. I dress the part at the shop to my patron's admiration. So, I guess it is a double pun.

I belong to a coven of thirteen witches. We meet about twice a week. With Halloween coming up, activity in our group has intensified, and everyone is so excited for the end of the month. We have been decorating our supreme witch's house inside and out. Caldrons and potion books have been brought out of storage. Her house, our coven meeting place is very old and beautiful. She inherited the house from the last supreme witch when she passed away.

We consider ourselves to be good witches. We have not turned anyone into a newt or anything like that. Honestly, I don't think we could if our reputation depended on it. There are three of us that are quite a bit younger than the other ten. We are all in our young thirties, while the others are sixty or above. Their experience and devotion are so wonderful for our small group's unity and bonding.

Every year we prepare what potions and spells we are going to cast and accomplish. A lot of the potions will be sold throughout the year by my friend's shop, Potions and Knick Knacks. Love potions are a crowd favorite. I think most of them are bought by husbands to give to their wives.

Potions for getting thin, looking younger, and getting rich were also popular. Mariea was one of our elder members; she owned a bookshop that she has had for years. From time to time, she will get old books from estate sales. She had purchased a large volume of books from an old and very rich family. The parents had just passed away due to a tragic accident. Their children had no interest in their parents' keepsakes.

The books were numerous, and some were very old. They had no idea what they had. First editions and other rare books were among the many boxes that we unloaded. Some of the books contained material on witch history and the famous Salem witch trials. This was going to be wonderful for the bookstore and the coven.

I was cataloging our great finds when I came across a book that had an old leather binding and a locked buckle There was no title or verbiage of any kind on the binding and there seemed no way to open the book's buckle.

"Mariea, look at this."

I took the book to her. The look on her face was that of concern.

"We need to show this to Tichaba; she should see this."

"I will bring it at tonight's meeting. What is giving you such worry?"

"It is very old and very secure; why is that?" Mariea pondered.

The book felt a lot heavier than it should have. I took the book home, placed the book on my bookshelf, and went back to my shop for the afternoon. Evening rolled around. I walked home, as I usually did, at the end of the day. I dressed for our evening meeting and grabbed the book, strolling down a very familiar path to my destination.

When I arrived, Mariea met me at the door.

"Did you bring it?"

I produced the book, and we went to Tichaba.

She examined the book very closely, at first, not saying a word. "The book is very old and could be very dangerous."

She placed the book in a locked drawer in her desk.

The family that had the book was not known for having any witches or warlocks in their family history.

"I wonder how long they have had this book in their care."

We proceeded to go about our Halloween preparations. As we did the mood became festive, and we got into the Halloween spirit.

It was Halloween, the shop was a madhouse in the morning. I sold more pumpkin spice doughnuts and coffee than I thought possible. I closed the shop early and went to the coven's house to prepare for the trick-or-treaters. The house is a way off the beaten path, but the little goblins and witches made a special effort to see our house every year. We love having the children come to see us and get the best holiday experience in Salem.

We started on our plans for this holiday. In the back room, there were three large tables that we used for making our potions and talismans that we would sell throughout the year. Some of us were casting spells for our town. Gretta, one of the younger witches was trying to cast a spell on a hot, new gentleman who had opened a new store next to Mariea's bookstore. The evening was winding to a close when discussion of the book had piqued the curiosity of all.

Titchaba went to her library desk and retrieved the book. The book was passed around with many questions and no answers to them. The clock started to strike twelve. A latch was now clearly visible on the book strap. Samantha, the last of our younger members, pulled on the latch as Tichiba was screaming, "no!"

The book flew from her hand. It floated in midair, pages going back and forth. The book glowed an eerie red as the room went completely black. It was not as if all the lights had gone out, it was as if all life had been sucked out of the room. A horrible, black figure appeared, holding the book. He was huge, maybe eight to nine feet tall, and his body was chiseled. He was beautiful. Then, he lowered the book away from the front of his face. His eyes burned red; his face was an ever-changing mask of evil. He stepped out from behind the desk, his legs and feet were that of a powerful, cloven-hoofed animal.

The older ladies were frozen as I glanced back and forth between my friends and this horrible apparition. The three younger girls ran to each other, holding on for dear life. The older ladies turned to us, in unison, and in a voice that was not theirs.

"You have been chosen; you are mine."

We stared at each other in both total fear and an overwhelming, horny state of arousal. It was as if we knew that, no matter what, our most carnal desires were going to be fulfilled

The other sisters moved to us, guiding us upstairs. Our clothing was removed, and each of us, in turn, was washed and showered under the supervision of this black demon. As I got out of the shower, the demon grabbed me and pulled me to him. Then, this demon ran his tongue around my breasts to my revulsion and delight. His tongue was several feet long and forked. He then stepped back and stared at my body.

We were each given tee shirts that looked like Tichaba used them as dusting rags around the house, twenty years ago. They did not really cover us up. The demon looked at Marie. She came over to me, with no expression on her face. She grabbed the neck of the shirt and ripped it down almost to my navel. She had a wicked sneer on her face as my breasts were basically exposed.

We were pampered for three days by the older witches, kept in a constant state of needy heat. I hated to be around them, as they were under a spell, making them almost robotic, but the pleasures they bestowed upon us were addictive. Out of nowhere, a look of pure evil would run across their face as they would stare at you, a look of pure lust at other times.

On the evening of the third night, the witches that were under his possession started to chant. "You have been chosen. You are the chosen."

We did not say anything, but I knew what each of us was thinking. That we would be sacrificed as a part of some strange, sexy ritual. We were all three placed on our knees surrounded by what was once our dearest friends.

Samantha was chosen first, she started to cry in urgent need as she was led into the room where we would, every year, mix our potions. The door was shut behind her. Gretta and I were trying to be brave, but fearful tears streamed down both our faces, mixing with our liquid arousal. We kneeled there, wondering what was going to happen to us, and in the back of our minds, we feared the worst but anticipated the glorious passion that we somehow knew was in store for us.

Sounds started to come from the room. At first, it sounded as if Samantha was in deep pain. Then, it sounded as if Samantha's moans were building toward an orgasm. Then, it sounded as if she were having an orgasm. Her screaming was very audible through the door. Her screams continued, then all went silent.

We waited in our position for about ten minutes. Then, the door opened. Several of the elder sisters helped Gretta to her feet. She looked back at me pleadingly but sated. . They led her into the room.

I heard her wail, "Oh my God, no, yes! YES!"

Then there was silence. After a bit, I started to hear the same sounds, as if a woman was starting to have an orgasm. The moaning started to build, and then there was what sounded like a huge orgasm, part pleasure and part pain. Then there seemed to be one orgasm after another. Then, there was silence. I knelt there, not knowing if my companions were all right or not.

I dared not move, then the door opened. They guided me into the room. My friends looked to be alive. They were lying on the tables, naked. Their legs were bound, lifted into the air. Each of their asses was covered in semen. which had dripped onto the table.

I was guided to the last table as this figment of evil made his way over to me. He grabbed my shirt ripping it from my body. I stood there naked in front of him. He bent down looking me in the eye as his massive tongue worked its way around my breasts.

He pushed me onto the table grabbing my ankles and spreading my legs. His tongue slithered down my belly to between my legs. His massive tongue caressed my inner thigh and pussy lips. The sensation caused me to gasp. I then noticed the rest of the coven had made its way into the room. His tongue pushed its way between my lips, heading deep within me.

"Oh my God," I gasped. My trepidation disappeared, replaced by lust.

His muscular tongue pushing past my cervix caused me to moan. I arched my back, wanting it but trying to pull away, but I was going nowhere. He pulled back and stood between my spread legs, and he removed his sarong, exposing his cock. It was the size of a large, hooved animal. He leaned over, licking my mouth and cheeks, he was revolting but so arousing.

He pushed his animal cock into my gaping, wet pussy. I felt as if I was going to pass out. How did Gretta, and Sam survive this? Then his spirit entered my head and my soul. He wasn't just pleasuring my body; he was pleasuring my soul.

Now I only craved his punishing of my pussy, begging him to fuck me deeper. I came hard, orgasm after orgasm, as I felt him enter deep into my womb. He flooded me with his cum as I had one last, explosive orgasm. He pulled out. I did not want him to leave my wanting cunt.

Two of the sisters pulled my legs together, bound my ankles, and hoisted my legs and ass into the air.

"The masters' seed must not leave you," they all said in unison.

We returned to our lives, I to my sho,p and the spell upon the rest of our coven disappeared. The elder witches remembered nothing of the book or what had happened.

It has been six months, It is springtime here, in Salem. The three of us are very pregnant. The three of us are very fearful of what we carry inside us. The older witches are very protective of our growing bellies and do not question at all how the three of us are pregnant together even though none of us has a husband or a boyfriend.